“Stretch them out,” Asher said. “Here, I’ll sit to the side and do the same. That way we can both be comfortable.”
“Alright,” I said. I shifted to the side and he moved the opposite way, then we both put our legs straight out in front of us.
And, to my surprise, Asher took one of my feet in his hands. He moved it into his lap, then began massaging my calf, easing away the tingling sensation. I gasped, caught off guard, but he only smiled at me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Shhh,” he said.
His fingers! My God, he had an amazing touch. And, well, obviously, right? He brought me to climax only yesterday in a matter of minutes with them, though I thought maybe some of that had to do with the situation and my excitement of who exactly was doing such a thing to me. But, no, even with something relatively innocent, he could work magic with his strong hands.
In a few seconds, my calf felt delightfully relaxed. Still a bit tingly, “waking up” as it was, but better. I stared at him, rapt, watching him work so intently on massaging away my pain. And then I got an idea.
He had my foot in his lap, which of course gave me access to his crotch. Not exactly, and this was probably not in his initial plans, but I gained a certain amount of satisfaction by ruining what he had in mind. Only a little bit of ruining, I thought. Just enough.
I rolled my ankle, letting my foot move in a circle, presumably stretching it while he massaged my calf. And then, as if by accident, I curled my toes so that they touched the crotch of his pants. I saw it, or I thought I did; a faint hint of a startle on Asher’s face. But then it was gone, and he acted as if nothing was amiss.
I frowned a bit. Not one to give up so easily, I pressed my toes to his crotch again, more firm this time. I wore no pantyhose, opting for bare feet and panties instead, so the skin of my toes touched directly on the cotton fabric of his dark blue suit pants. I caressed him with my foot, feeling a twitch of interest from the masculine object hidden under his pants.
While I stared, intent, at my foot in his crotch, I didn’t notice Asher had stopped massaging my calf and was now looking at me.
“Jessika,” he said with a growl.
“Yes?” I asked, feigning innocence.
He pulled my leg, removing me from my comfortable spot on the seat cushion. My rear slid forward under the table, and my back moved down so that my head rested where my shoulders used to be. Asher grinned at me, some devilishly delicious expression, before placing his black-socked foot—just so—right between my legs. I gasped as his big toe found the cleft of my sex, wriggling up and down along it.
“Asher!” I said, half whisper and half gasp.
“Yes?” he asked. His feigned innocence came as more of a predatory snarl.
My fucking God, I thought. What kinds of buttons was I pushing, and then what kinds was he pushing back? Never would I have expected this to happen. In fact, I was quite certain it wouldn’t. I don’t know why I started it in the first place, but now that he’d continued it I had no idea where to go from there.
And, this time wasn’t a punishment, was it? It could be, I told myself. Who knew? His toes tweaked at my panties, moving the fabric against the arousal of my slick folds, making me squirm in his grasp. In an attempt to pull myself away, to reciprocate and return his action, I guided my foot up and down his crotch again.#p#分页标题#e#
He was going to get me off with his foot and I couldn’t even understand how. It was so strange, entirely new, but I wanted it so badly. I writhed in the chair, grinding my pelvis against his foot, silently pleading with him with my eyes.
Just as things were getting good, someone knocked on the wooden sliding door. “I’ve brought the lover’s special to start, and the rest will be available shortly,” our waiter said.
Disheveled and completely undone as a person, I somehow managed to return to my sitting position. Asher did the same, though much more elegantly than I could have ever imagined. Once we were both sitting somewhat normally, Asher opened the sliding door and smiled at the waiter.
The man glanced at us oddly. My hair, I realized. Asher wouldn’t have to worry about much, except maybe a crease in his suit coat, but when he’d pulled on my leg and made me fall backwards, he’d mussed up my hair. I struggled to fix it while the waiter and his assistant placed plates, the lover’s special, and various saucers of sauces on our table.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” the waiter said with a nod. Then he left.
Asher promptly closed the door again.
“Jessika,” he said, hesitating.
“Yes?” I asked. No more innocence this time. I really didn’t know what he wanted, but I was so pent up, orgasm lost, and I desperately wanted to continue where we’d left off.