Author Topic: Aunt Liz  (Read 7002 times)

Offline atgirlfeet

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Aunt Liz
« on: January 15, 2023, 10:00:03 AM »
First foot massage

The first foot massage I ever gave was to my aunt Liz. I remember it well. Liz was a hairstylist and she spent long hours on her feet, working hard as a single mother to my two cousins, Brad and Christie. I really respected her for her financial independence.

Liz was very good looking in her own right. If I had to pick a celebrity for comparison sakes, I’d say she resembled Jennifer Aniston. But she was perhaps a slightly smaller package, standing at only 5’2” and probably never weighing more than 115 lbs. More than her physical qualities, there was something about the way she carried herself that I found even more attractive. She was very confident in herself and didn’t need anyone’s help…except perhaps her nephew’s.
 
One day, Liz, visiting me and my mom. Liz and my mom were sitting in recliners in the living room while I was seated on the living room floor, playing video games—I was sitting closest to my aunt. Out of nowhere, Liz slid out of her Birkenstock Gizeh sandals and started gently rubbing her bare feet on my arm and shoulder. Although I hadn’t discovered my foot fetish yet, I enjoyed the feeling of her feet sliding across my skin. Her soles were incredibly smooth and I found my eyes drawn to how her bright pink nail polish contrasted with her bronze tanned skin. My heart began racing and I could feel my face turning red as she continued. I didn’t want to let on that I was excited by her actions.
 
When I asked her why she was doing what she was doing, she said because her feet were sore after working all day and it felt good to rub them on something. I guess I was “something”. She then went on to suggest that I could rub her feet for her so she wouldn’t have to do the work herself. It was a bold request. Especially right there in front of my mother and cousins, and I found it peculiar that she was targeting me. I wondered if she had caught me looking at her feet before. I politely rejected her request and asked her kindly to stop rubbing her feet on me. It was a catch 22 for sure. I didn’t really want her to stop, but I was too embarrassed to allow her to continue.
 
Liz pulled her feet away and went on making conversation with my mom. But not long after, when my mom left the room (I think to talk to my dad on the phone who was on a business trip), Liz again put her feet on me. This time, as I had switched to laying on my stomach, she crossed her ankles and used my upper back as her footrest. While there was a part of me enjoying her playing with me like this, I also felt humiliated by it. Again, I asked her to please take her feet off me. But this time, she ignored my request.” Feeling more and more humiliated, I turned my head to her and pleaded, “If I rub your feet for you, will you stop?” She was absolutely giddy with my offer!
 
As I repositioned myself to sit in front of her and wrapped my hands around her pretty foot, I realized I had no idea what I was doing. My technique was horrible to start but she coached me along, instructing me on how to use my thumbs to knead her soles. Before long, she was oohing and ahhing. It was so gratifying to be pleasing her. I continued until my mom came back into the room. Needless to say, my mom was surprised to see me rubbing my aunt's feet, and when she said something about it, Liz made it sound like I had just casually volunteered. It embarrassed me, so I squeezed her foot hard, and told her I was done. I didn’t actually want to stop as I feared I may never get the chance to rub her feet again, but my fear of being perceived as weird, even by my own mother, overpowered my desires.
 
As they left, Liz thanked me for the foot massage, and without thinking, I responded, “You’re welcome, my pleasure.” When I said it, she got a big smile on her face and gave me a wink.
« Last Edit: October 24, 2023, 06:24:50 PM by atgirlfeet »

Offline femaleworship

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Re: Aunt Liz
« Reply #1 on: February 01, 2023, 01:30:56 PM »
nice

Offline atgirlfeet

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Re: Aunt Liz
« Reply #2 on: October 24, 2023, 06:25:29 PM »

Aunt Liz, My Queen
 
As I got older, I spent less and less time at my aunt Liz’s house, resulting in giving her fewer and fewer foot massages. Ever since my cousin Brad had gone to live with his dad, I just didn’t have as much reason to go over to her house. Consequently, the only time I really saw Liz alone, or at least without my mother present, was when I would get haircuts from her. On one such occasion, I was her last appointment of the evening and we were the only ones left in her hair salon. She had already worked all day and I felt bad she was staying late to cut my hair. “Thank you so much, Auntie Liz. You should really let me pay you for this cut,” I offered. “Oh Sweetie, I could never charge family. But thank you for being such a gentleman by offering,” she replied, kindly. I knew she’d decline money but there was another form of payment I knew she wouldn’t likely refuse. “Well, your feet have to be killing you after such a long day. The least I could do is give you a foot rub—it’s been awhile!” Her demeanor completely changed, as she excitedly answered, “It has been awhile! That would be wonderful!”
 
Liz continued cutting my hair, and just before finishing, she requested, “You don’t mind rubbing my feet here in the salon, do you? I have some things I need to wrap up before I can leave.” Although we were alone, the inside of the salon was fairly exposed to those walking by outside. It made me a little uncomfortable but I didn’t want to disappoint her. “Sure, no problem,” I agreed. “Okay then, why don’t you help sweep up and then you can rub my feet while I listen to my voicemails,” she suggested. Not only did I sweep up my own hair, but I swept the entire salon, and then took the trash to the outside dumpster.
 
When I came back inside, Liz had taken a seat in one of the salon chairs. She was wearing a long yellow sundress and jewel-studded, black leather sandals. In that moment, I remember thinking she looked like a queen sitting in her throne. The only thing that was missing was a gold crown on her head. That said, she did have a lot of gold jewelry on, including an ankle bracelet and toe rings, bringing even more attention to those pretty feet of hers. She was already listening to her voicemails with the phone held to her ear and notepad in hand as I knelt in front of her. Without even being asked, I removed her sandals and briefly held them to my nose before setting them aside. Although she didn’t comment, her smile told me she appreciated my gesture, no doubt remembering it was how she had taught me years before. The scent of her sandals was mild compared to what it would have been had she worn flats, but I still loved it.
 
Without further delay, I proceeded to massage her feet. It really was amazing how soft they were considering her job required her to be standing all day. I concentrated hard, trying to make it the best foot massage I had ever given her. As a side note, whether it was Liz or Becca, I always aimed for each foot massage they received from me to be better than the last. Normally I got gratification from Liz’s trademark moans, which I would take as praise, but she was obviously very pre-occupied with her messages. Her ignoring me, combined with her seated so high above me in the salon chair, felt incredibly humbling. The feeling only intensified my desire to please her.
 
Finally done with listening to her messages, she said, “Mmm, this is such a nice way to end the day. I think I’ll have to start cutting your hair more often.” I smiled at her as I responded, “Well, I’m sure you’ve given me a lot more haircuts than I’ve given you foot rubs, so guess I have some catching up to do.” “I guess you do! So then, when is the next time you’re rubbing my feet? I want to put it on my calendar,” she joked. “No reservation needed, Auntie Liz--I’m happy to rub your feet whenever you like,” I offered generously, perhaps sounding more eager than I had intended. “You’re such a sweetie,” Liz praised. I continued massaging her feet for probably another 20 minutes before she suggested she should get home. I slid her jewel-studded, black leather sandals back on her feet and gave them a lite pat to signify the end of my service.

Offline atgirlfeet

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Re: Aunt Liz
« Reply #3 on: October 24, 2023, 06:26:04 PM »

Show and tell

After giving me another haircut, Liz had me rub her feet again. Only this time, she had me do it for her in front of her colleague, Sandra, and Sandra’s client. Of course, they were surprised when I got down on my knees on the salon floor and began removing Liz’s shoes for her. I remember she was wearing navy-blue flats that displayed amazing toe cleavage. As I started in on the massage, the others made comments, such as, “Wow, what an angel you have there.” It made me blush, but for the most part, I took their comments lightly. There was however one comment in particular that really stood out. Sandra suggested to Liz that they could hire me to give foot massages to their clients while they did their hair. Liz teased that it was a great idea, and then Sandra’s client suggested, “Why not have him start now?” I knew they were joking, but in my head, I imagined what it would be like massaging different women’s feet all day, every day. If all the women were as pretty as my aunts, with feet as nice as theirs, it would be a dream job. But the harsh reality was that there would be old, ugly women with crusty feet as well.
 
After only 10 minutes in, Liz decided she’d prefer to have me massage her feet at home since it was the end of her work shift. With the opportunity to escape the discomfort of having others watching me rub her feet, I was happy to oblige her request. Liz had me follow her to her bedroom to chat while she changed out of her work clothes. She sat on the edge of her bed and I immediately offered to remove her shoes for her. I knelt down and again admired the way her feet looked in her flats before taking them off. “These shoes look great on you, by the way,” I praised. She smiled nicely, and extended her feet out to me, “Aww, so sweet of you to say. But I’m ready to be out of them.” As I slid the flats from her feet, I briefly held them to my nose and gave them a quick sniff. “Wow, I can tell you worked extra hard today, Auntie Liz,” I commented, referencing the strong scent of her foot sweat mixed with the distinct smell of leather. She again smiled by my gesture. “Would you like me to put them away for you,” I asked, already crawling towards her walk-in closet. “Good luck finding space in that mess. I desperately need a maid,” she joked. Seeing it as an opportunity to have some alone time with her shoe collection, I quickly volunteered to clean it for her. “Oh? You want to be my maid, do you? I bet you’d look pretty cute in one of those black and white uniforms they wear,” she teased. I simply laughed off her suggestion but told her I was serious about my offer. “Only if you let me pay you,” she offered in return. I told her it wasn’t necessary to pay me and that I could do it while she was at work the next day, if she liked. She happily accepted but wouldn’t take no for an answer on paying me. I then knelt in front of her again, placed my hands on her feet, and said, “I guess it’s my turn to pay you at the moment.” She smiled wide looking down at me, “I can hardly wait! Let’s go into the living room though. It’s more comfortable in there.”
 
We came out to the living room, Liz responded, “I know, I’m lucky, aren’t I?”  “I should say so. My kids always act repulsed by my feet.” Liz smiled, and stated, “Well, my nephew here doesn’t seem to mind mine. He rubs them for me all the time.” Liz’s comments left me feeling embarrassed as I was sure the mother questioned if I had a crush on my aunt or something.
 
After some time, Liz stated that she needed to take a shower but didn’t want the foot massage to end. Aiming to please as always, I offered to stay longer and continue to rub her feet after she was out of the shower. “Really, that would be amazing,” she replied, very happy with my offer.

 
Liz was laying on her bed, wearing only a silk robe when I entered her bedroom. She looked extra beautiful with wet hair. I started to kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed before she invited me to sit on the end. I picked up her feet and placed them on my lap. She asked if I was tired and suggested that I lay back while I massage her feet. I really preferred to stay upright to keep my eyes on her pretty feet, but I always took her suggestions as instruction. So, I laid back, keeping Liz’s feet in my lap and proceeded to rub them.I would have been content to continue with the massage and stay at their feet all night, I knew I needed to get home to keep my parents from worrying. 
 
I told my aunt that I needed to leave. She thanked me for the foot massage and reminded me to kiss them goodnight before I left. It was customary in our family to give hugs and a kiss on the cheek when we said hello or goodbye. But rather than kiss Liz’s cheek, I boldly bent down and planted a quick kiss on the sole of her foot, and said, “Goodnight, Auntie Liz. Sleep well.” 
 
I returned the next day around noon to begin the task of cleaning Liz’s closet. It really was a mess with piles of clothes on top of piles of shoes. I made quick work of putting her clothes on hangers and folding them to leave more time for her shoes, which were the real reason I had volunteered to clean her closet. I decided I would organize the shoes according to style and line them up along the baseboards. I would also put the boots and closed-toe shoes towards the back and sandals towards the front since it was still summer. I fought the urge to smell them as I went along, but I wanted to get them organized first. There were a few pairs of boots which she wore regularly in the winter months but were currently buried at the bottom of the heap. Two pairs were work boots, nothing special, but there was a white pair which always reminded me of the ones worn by the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders. Then came her high-heeled pumps. I was surprised she only had a couple pair, but given that she was a hair stylist, standing on her feet all day, high heels really weren’t the most practical for her. Next were her flats, which included the navy-blue pair she had worn the previous day, and a pair of ballerina style slippers that she liked to wear around the house. I couldn’t wait to bury my nose in all of them.
   
 
After getting all the shoes organized, I went along the line and began smelling one after another. I fantasized about her standing in them and bowed down to them, pretending to kiss her feet. At one point, I noticed a scuff on one of her flats, and said out loud, “Would you like me to clean them for you, Your Majesty?” I began licking the outside leather, polishing the shoe with my tongue. Then, imagining that she had instructed me to do so, I licked the insoles as well. My tongue tingled with the taste of her foot sweat (and likely dirt). It was Heaven. I continued down the line to her sandals, and again imagined her wanting me to clean them for her. I stuck out my tongue and lapped at the insoles. I must have gotten through several pair before I realized that Liz may take notice to her shoes being cleaner. I thought I had better stop unless I wanted to be subjected to questioning. I did some final tidying and ran the vacuum quickly, just in time for her to arrive home.   
 
Liz was very happy with the job I had done on cleaning her closet. She kept praising my work over and over. Then, sure enough, she noticed what I hoped she wouldn’t. “Wow! Did you even shine some of my shoes? You deserve a bonus!” Fortunately, she didn’t question how I had cleaned them. Instead, she continued to praise me, “You really are such a sweetie. You treat me like a queen.” Her words gave me goosebumps. It was the perfect opening to offer myself to be her slave. But the situation was different with Liz. I really wasn’t sure how she would respond. Throwing caution to the wind, I got down on my knees in front of her, and just bow and kiss her sandaled feet, then phone rang. Liz ran off to grab the phone in the other room.
 
I couldn’t tell who she was talking to, but whoever it was, they were making her very giggly. I joined her in the front room just as she was hanging up the phone.

“Hey, before Mike called, why did you get on the floor and kissed my feet?” My heart immediately started racing as I scrambled to come up with an answer. “Um, I, ah, thought this is how queen should be treated.” She smiled wide, and replied, “Oh wow, I loved that.
 
 
Then Mike came to meet Liz, Liz and Mike went into the living room while I started washing the dishes. I heard Liz shout to me, “Hey, sweet nephew, you want to make us some popcorn while you’re in there?” Although I had bowed and kissed her feet in submission, in some ways, I was already acting like Liz’s slave. When I joined them in the living room, Mike was sitting on the far end of the sofa while Liz laid comfortably with her head against his chest and legs extended out resting her feet on the opposite end. I handed her the bowl of popcorn before assuming the familiar position of kneeling on the floor, down at her feet. While Liz barely paid me notice, I felt like Mike was staring as I wrapped my hands around Liz’s foot and began massaging. Within a matter of moments, Liz let out her signature moan and said to Mike, “Mmm, he’s such a natural.” While I generally loved getting her praise, her words only intensified my humiliation in this case. However, in reality, Mike wasn’t paying much attention to me. He was fixated on Liz. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him discreetly kiss the back of her neck. She was receptive to his advance and turned to kiss him on the lips. I kept rubbing her feet until I realized they weren’t stopping and their making out seemed to be intensifying. Quietly, I got up and started making my way to the door. Before I escaped, Liz came up for just enough air to thank me and say goodbye. Driving home, I thought about the words Liz had used to describe my foot massaging skill, calling me “a natural.” In other words, I was born to massage feet. I couldn’t agree more.   

 

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