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CHAPTER SIX:
As usual, Aunt Hillary rinsed her feet in the basin
of warm water while watching television. Then she placed her feet on the sofa
and mopped them dry with the terry cloth towel. She did it with great
difficulty only using her Right hand while holding her bruised Left hand up. After
drying her feet she lay back on the sofa instead of creaming and massaging her
feet as she usually does.
—You’re
unable to massage your feet today, isn’t it Aunty?” I asked her pumping all the
courage I could gather. She gave me a helpless look.
—Yah!
Though my feet desperately need a massage today it’s practically impossible.
This hand hurts a lot when I touch anything with it yet. Just can’t do it with
one hand˜ she said in a very sad
tone. I approached the sofa and stood beside it.
—Can
I be of any help Aunty? I never have given anyone foot rubs. But I can give it
a try if you want˜ I
asked concealing my anxiety.
—Oh;
Darling! How sweet of you? But how can I ask you to? I mean, you have been such
a help to me all day and you also must be pretty tired tonight” she paused.
“Are your
sure you don’t mind rubbing my feet a bit for me? I’ve noticed that you have
always paid a keen interest in the way I self-massage my feet. So? I think
you’ll be able to handle it alright. You are more than welcomed if you are
willing to do so. Because my feet are desperately in need of a rub tonight”
Aunt Hillary said with a dainty smile. She pulled her legs back and made room for
me to sit at the edge of the sofa.
Aunt Hillary placed a cushion on the sofa partly
over my lap, and placed her feet over it. Then she handed me the tube of foot
cream. I took it with a trembling hand. She seemed to realize that I was
anxious and uneasy.
“You
are a kind of ‘foot person’ aren’t you?” she asked calmly. I gave her a blank
look.
“It’s
okay. I’ve seen you starring at my feet since the very first day you came here.
I happen to notice such guys early because I have been living with one of them;
my late husband Bill of cause! He was a serious kind of ‘foot-person’. Don’t be
shy. It is my experience that people who are interested in feet are often very
good at giving foot-rubs. The start is always difficult. Are you feeling uneasy
right now?” Aunt Hillary asked in a very kind tone as to make me feel at-ease.
Though it was now evident that Aunt Hillary knew I was spying on her while she
massaged her feet, her words also gave me courage to go on.
—Nop s!” I answered with difficulty. She
knew I was lying and that I indeed was uneasy.
“That’s
all right. Don’t worry. First let’s get my feet creamed. Just get a bit of
lotion into your palm and apply it on my feet with your fingers. Hold on to my
foot with a firm grip and rub the cream hard in to my skin. Take one step at a
time. I’ll guide you as we go on˜
she said in a firm and re-assuring voice.
Those
words encouraged me further. I adjusted myself on the sofa rotating my hip a
bit and turning to torso towards Aunt Hillary. Then I did as she said; taking a
bit of moisture-rising lotion in my hand and applying them hard into the skins
of her feet. I first started with her insteps; from her ankles and then went on
to her soles. Though I had been dreaming my entire life to actually touch and
feel a pair of beautiful female feet such as Aunt Hillary’s, all that desire
suddenly felt so distant from me. I found myself in a great discomfort and
found myself socked in sweat. My hands were trembling.
Though
for months I had secretly been watching Aunt Hillary’s feet and masturbating
thinking of them, when I actually got the chance to touch them and feel them,
all my sexual feeling got suppressed in excitement. My fingers became stiff,
cold and partly frozen as I tried to apply foot cream on Aunt Hillary’s feet.
—You better rub your fingers a bit harder
into my skin. If not I could feel ticklish. Here, first hold my Left foot with both
your hands and place your thumbs across soles. Now squeeze and rub your thumbs
sideway from top to bottom˜
Aunt Hillary instructed me lifting her Left foot up from the cushion.
.
—Okay! There you go. Now you’re getting it,
aren’t you? Please do my toes too. Just pluck them with your fingers. Squeeze
and pull them a bit˜
Aunt Hillary said wiggling her toes.
By
then I was more relaxed and had even started to get an erection. I was glad
that the cushion was placed on my lap so that my erection went un-noticed down
under it. I was a bit worried though; that I would end-up with a wet-patch of
pre-cum on the sarong I was wearing.
I
knew that I made a bit of mess trying to give my first ever foot massage. But I
was relieved that Aunt Hillary was kind enough to generously admire my efforts
and encourage me.
—Thank you so much darling. May God bless
you! It felt so relieving. I was really in need of that foot massage tonight.
You know? You have a good pair of hands. With a little more practice you could
turn up to be a good masseur˜
she said with a smile removing her feet from my lap and placing them on the
floor. She was now sitting upright on the sofa beside me. I made sure the
cushion remained on my lap.
“There were some foot massage manuals in the study
room. Probably they are stacked in one of those card-board boxes placed on top
of the racks. If you could try and find them, they would give you some useful
tips to catch on with it. Even Harry was the same as you when he first started
to give me foot rubs. But he very soon mastered the art very well. All you need
is to develop confidence in your ability˜
Aunt Hillary told me. For some reason I felt my penis tingle under the cushion when
I heard that Aunt Hillary’s son Harry also had given her foot rubs. For some
reason I found it a bit erotic.
—Really?
Has Harry massaged your feet? ˜
I couldn’t help asking. I felt that it was none of my business and very inappropriate
to have been asked. But I was glad that Aunt Hillary didn’t get mad of me
asking so.
“Oh!
Yes. It became a part of his daily chores especially when his father was not around
at home. Of cause when Bill was around I didn’t have to bother Harry. But if
not, he never got the chance to escape from me while watching TV˜ she said with a perky smile.
I
waited for a while till my erection went down and excused myself to rush back
to my room. Luckily the pre-cum patch on my sarong was not so visible. It was a
night with sweet dream for me. I masturbated several time that night.
From
that day onwards it became a part of my daily chores to give Aunt Hillary her
evening foot massage while watching television. I also searched through the
boxes of old books stacked away in the study room and found the foot-massaging
manuals. There were several of them. Aunt Hillary’s late husband had been an
expert masseur. He had even followed a short diploma course in foot therapy in
Thailand. I found his certificate in one of those boxes.
Also I found the book titled —The
Sensual Body˜
edited by Lucy Lidell which had been gifted to Aunt Hillary by Uncle Bill. I
took the book to my room so that I could read it leisurely. There were a pile
of ‘Debonair’ Indian men’s magazines there too which I found interesting to read.
Eventually I become a regular reader of ‘Debonair’
and even sent some of my sketch drawings to the magazine. Some of my sketches
alone with one of my quarries to its sex advisor got published in the 1995
September Debonair issue; under a false name of course.
As usual, my mother and aunt chattered over the
phone every now and then. The day after the accident Aunt Hillary mentioned how
helpful I was to her when her hand got injured. She told mom how I took her to
the doctor, how I prepared food for her and took good care of her. She even
casually mentioned that I gave her a relieving foot massage too.
I felt a bit uncomfortable about my parents knowing
about me rubbing Aunt Hillary’s feet, thus I kept silent about it. I was kind
of embarrassed and afraid that they would think it to be inappropriate. Mother
after a few days casually asked me “So? I heard you are giving Aunty Foot
rubs?”
I replied saying “I was just helping her because her
hand was bruised”
Probably Aunt Hillary too sensed that I was
uncomfortable with mom knowing about it. Though we didn’t come into any open
agreement about it, it became an unspoken pact between Aunt Hillary and me to not
highlight the topic about me giving foot rubs to her, when briefing our day’s
events with mom.
When Aunt Hillary’s hand was healed she once told me
that I no longer require to continue rubbing her feet and that she can now take
care of it on her own. But I insisted in continuing with it, claiming it
improved my skills in massaging. It definitely was good practice for me. With
the help of the books I was reading and the continuous opportunity to practice
what I learnt, I had turned out to be a much better masseuse than I was in a
very short time.
Aunt Hillary was very generous in praising me and
appreciating my improvement. She was also kind enough to allow me practice new foot-massage
techniques I learnt and evaluate them. I was very careful to do my job as
professional as possible, even though I lusted for Aunt Hillary’s beautiful
sexy feet. I was very patient while massaging her feet and later masturbated
thinking about them.
The year-end annual dinner dance party of the FKC
society for that year was scheduled to be held on the Saturday, 15th
of December 1990. As the vice president of the society, Aunt Hillary had been appointed
head of the event organizing committee. The location selected for the function
was a small isolated hotel in Moratuwa; in the outskirts of Colombo which faced
a beautiful lagoon.
Aunt Hillary was very busy with the organizing work
during those last few days leading to the event. On the day of the function I
drove aunty to the hotel early in the morning. She wanted to make sure that
everything was well planned. She gave final instructions for the hall
decorations, seating arrangements, foods and beverages, the band and sounds and
all the other such matters. It was almost noon when we left the hotel.
On our way Aunt Hillary wanted me to drive her to
her beautician’s saloon to get a few professional touch-ups. It was about 2.30 pm
when we finally arrived home. As the party was scheduled to start at seven, Aunt
Hillary suggested we leave home around 5.30 pm expecting to be at the hotel
half an hour early. It left me three hours in which I even had time for a quick
nap before getting dressed. I chose a black pair of silky trousers and a white
long sleeved shirt for the party. I also put on a black tweed overcoat and
placed a red handkerchief in my shirt pocket. My black pair of shoes was well
polished. Fully dressed I locked my room and waited in the verandah for Aunt
Hillary. At exactly 5.30 pm Aunt Hillary came out into the verandah. I felt my
jaws drop and my mouth open. I stood there completely dump-found.
She had cooped-up her raven hair into a high bun
above the back of her head. She wore a pair of white stoned silver dangling
ear-rings and a matching necklace. Her luscious lips had been given a crimson color
with a touch of purple. The lip line was highlighted in black. Her eye shadow
was silver blue. She wore a strapped knee-length figure-hugging black dress
that just showed a bit of cleavage. A see through black silk shawl was wrapped
ground her bare shoulders. A silver bracelet was on her wrist. And she was carrying
a small silver purse in her hand.
As usual my eyes eventually stopped at her beautiful
feet. Aunt Hillary was in a pair of three inch stiletto heeled black strapped
sandals. It was a pair that had a single cross-strip across the instep and an ankle
‘T’ strap. The shoe straps were shiny black with a silver line at the center.
Her toe nails were freshly polished in crimson red as same as her finger nails.
Her fully exposed toes and most parts of her creamy feet were visible well in
contrast to the black straps of her sandals. She looked really sexy and was
absolutely stunning as a whole.
“Wow!” I finally managed to say still as if in a
dream.
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