It was a long day at work, and I could hardly wait for it to end. Then came the two-hour drive on the winding country roads, but finally, I arrived. Driving up on the gravel driveway, I was very impressed with the cottage and the beautiful, lush gardens. I stopped the car, got my luggage out of the boot, and walked towards the front door.
It swung open, and a middle-aged woman walked out onto the veranda with a broad smile. She was stunning in her summer dress. Her makeup was immaculately perfect, her brown hair freely flowing onto her creamy white shoulders as it shone in the sunshine, and her brown eyes sparkled looking at me.
"Welcome to our home," she said, beaming.
"Thank you and hello," I said, walking up to her.
She put her hand on my shoulder and softly kissed my cheek, her perfume titillating my senses.
"I am Julie, your hostess," she said.
"It is lovely to meet you, Julie."
"Please follow me, Jim. It is Jim, isn't it?" She said, then walked to the front door, not waiting for my reply.
I followed her, and I just could not stop myself from checking her out in her summer dress that ended mid-thigh, showing off her shapely legs. She was wearing beige nylons and black stiletto mules.
"Oh, I love a woman in mules," I murmured under my breath as my eyes lingered on her feet.
I wondered if she had heard me. She did not show it, but she might have. I just could not tell. Entering the house, a long corridor lay in front of us. She walked to the first door on the right and told me that was my room for my stay. I walked into the room. Passing her, our bodies brushed against each other for a second. When I felt her soft curves against my body, my heart jumped a beat, and I felt the delicious feeling of arousal.
"Once you have settled in, join me in the living room if you wish," she said, and with that, she left, closing the door behind her.
I looked around the room. There was a huge white bed against the back wall, a white cabinet, and a white dressing table, all very stylish. In fact, all the furniture was white, making the room feel very bright. While I unpacked my luggage, my mind was on her. She was gorgeous, and the way she dressed was like the woman in my fantasies. I walked to the window. I liked how the white lace curtains were parted and tied to the sides, allowing a full, uninterrupted view of the front garden and the hills beyond.
"I will enjoy my stay here," I thought.
Turning around, I headed for the living room. It wasn't difficult to find. Knocking on the open door, I entered. It was just as stylish as my room, the roaring open fire made it feel cosy, and the soft music she listened to was soothing.
"Come in, come in," I heard her say.
She was sitting on the plush couch. Her dress was fanned out, and her legs and feet tugged under it. Her mules were in front of the couch, neatly side by side on the thick carpet. She was reading a book. Seeing me, she closed the book and put it aside. I sat in the armchair opposite her. I watched her intently, she was gorgeous in her yellow, floral summer dress with a V-shaped cleavage showing a considerable amount of her milky white breasts.
"Would you like to have some wine, Jim? I am having one of our local delights," she said, and I noticed the wine glass on the table.
"Yes, please. If it is no trouble, I will have some."
"I'll get you a glass."
Her feet and legs emerged from beneath her dress. I could not but look and admire. Her feet slipped into her mules, and she walked out the door at the far end of the living room. My eyes followed her until she disappeared behind the door.
A few minutes later, I heard her mules click-clacking on the wooden floor as she returned with a bottle, a glass, and a bowl of nibbles. She placed all of that on the table and filled my glass. I watched her without a word.
"Here you are," she said, handing me the glass, then she sat back on the couch.
She pulled her legs up, but this time she did not take her mules off, nor did she hide her feet under her dress. I was mesmerised by her, and she did not beat around the bush when she addressed me.
"You are a leg man, aren't you, Jim? I see how you look at me, your hungry eyes on my legs."
I felt the blood rushing into my face. I must have turned beetroot red, my face felt like it was on fire. I did not think I had been ogling her so obviously.
"I am busted. Yes, I love to see a woman's legs in heels and stockings, especially in mules."
"This is your lucky day, Jim. I love to wear heels. My favourite shoes are mules, and of course, I love the feel of nylons on my legs. In fact, I am wearing stockings right now."
"I will enjoy my stay here," I said, smiling broadly.
"The only drawback of wearing heels this high is that one's feet get tired and sore," she said, kicking her mule off and rubbing her toes.
I could not pass up the opportunity to offer her a foot massage, and I think she knew that too. She accepted my offer immediately. I put my glass on the table and sat at the end of the couch, slightly facing her. She put her feet on my lap and laid back on a pillow. First, I removed the other shoe from her foot and placed it on the floor, then I started to gently massage her soles, her toes, and her ankles. She had beautiful feet. Her toes were perfectly shaped, her red nails made them look so sexy, and her arches formed a sensuous curve.
I wanted to kiss and suck each of her toes and run my tongue under her arches. I could hear her soft moans of pleasure, and I felt my cock responding to the situation. I think she felt that too. Suddenly she took her feet away, got off the couch, and knelt in front of me, between my legs. Her hands were on my thighs, her fingertips touching my semi-erect cock. She looked into my eyes with uncertainty in hers.
"What I am going to say shocks me, but I want it. It just feels right. I hope I will not ruin your stay," she said with a nervous smile on her face.
"Tell me! I want to hear what is on your mind."
