NOTE: All of the characters mentioned are over the age of 18.
Mom's Sexy Nylon Feet.
The fascination with My mother's feet started when I was 18.
As long as I can remember, she went barefoot from summer time to fall.
And Pantyhose from fall to summer. One day She arrived home from work.
She liked to have a some wine after a long day at work. As I approached her with wine she was set deep into the couch, eyes closed, feet up on an ottoman. "Here mom."
She took the glass with red nail polished fingers, and took a deep gulp. Sighing afterwards. "A glass of wine, then a nice hot bath. That's what I need." "You and your baths," I laughed.
Tell me all about the drama." She nodded, eyes still closed, and stretched fully into the couch. Head and shoulders pressed back, toes pointed forward, black skirt drawing midway up her sexy tan nylon thighs, wine glass never moving. As if her wrist had a perfect gyroscope that refused to even tilt the glass. I came back in to the mirthful call from my mom, "Oh, waiter boy!"
I smiled, "Yes mom?"
"It seems someone drank all my wine," she shook the empty glass at me.
"Oh no," I said and grabbed the glass, "let's hope there's more."
"I'm sure you can find some," she winked and then settled back into the cushions.
Another trip to the kitchen. I was the official bartender tonight. "So," I asked as I handed her a now full glass of wine, "how was your day?" "Bleh," she said, tongue flicking out, "horrible. They had me running ragged." While she spoke animately between sips of wine, she used her other hand to rub her nylon covered foot. Wine arm bent on the arm of the couch, leaned forward, cleavage pressed together, one hand caressing and kneading her foot. She switched from foot to foot, bending back her toes so her smooth prominent arch screamed at me. Pushing her red toes forward to rub her heel. Fingers twirling around candied toes.
I stared at the spectacle, taking in each moment. I would like to say it was the beer, but watching her massage her feet and legs had always been something I did. There was something sensual about the whole thing, even if she was alternating between speaking and drinking. I sat there for awhile, hot and hardened. The polyester of my shorts caressing my bulge.
"Excuse me?" she said breaking my eyes from her feet. "Did you go somewhere?"
"Oh," heat blossomed across my face, "sorry mom. I was lost in my thoughts but what she did not know I was wanting to massage her sexy nylon feet. She nodded as if accepting the answer, "Well," she shook the now empty glass at me. "Mommy needs another."
I was hard, knee up to hide it, blushing like I hadn't since I was sixteen. "Um... okay?" You know that awkward boner walk where you're trying to hide something that definitely can't be hidden? Yeah... that's what I did. Hips pointed away from her, butt tucked up, cock angled down, I sidestepped over to take the glass and scurried into the kitchen. Was it my imagination or did she look down and smile? She had to have seen it, right?
Before filling up her wine glass I headed to the bathroom to get my composure and allow my erection to diminish. "What is wrong with you?" I whispered to myself. "That is your mom. Plus, you've never been into feet!" Tits, ass, hair, lips, neck, legs, and everything else except feet. "Except your mom's." I wrangled with the discovery of a new kink, pissed when I stopped chubbing, and went to resume my bartender role.
"Here mom," I said, composure once again within my grip.