by AfroerotiK
There's nothing more exhausting than going on a book signing tour and living out of a suitcase. More than physically draining, it's emotionally draining to live out of a suitcase and drinking out of those little glasses with the paper sanitary cover gets old real quick. My agent and I were like little lost souls trying to find the good places to eat that weren't overpriced and mediocre.
We settled for eating at the hotel restaurant. The Hyatt Regency was like every other hotel restaurant I've ever been to . . . overpriced and mediocre. While we were casually chatting, Jessica stopped in mid sentence and whispered to me that I had an admirer. At the appropriate time, I discretely glanced around to notice a guy sitting at the bar, apparently lost in fantasy, staring intently at me. I didn't even need to worry about being discrete; he wouldn't have noticed me looking at him unless I was 12 inches tall. His gaze was openly in admiration of the lower portion of my body.
We giggled like high school girls. He was within earshot and our laughter apparently snapped him out of our trance. He swallowed hard and turned nervously away. We went back to our girl talk but there I was constantly aware of my admirer. From his seat, he had the perfect vantage point. Jessica, feeling bold in her strange surroundings, she signaled for our friend to join us. He kept pointing at himself and mouthing the words, "Me?"
"Hi, I'm Eric," his voice squeaked as if he was going through puberty. Clearing his throat, he said, "I recognize you. You're Zane, aren't you?" Jessica and I burst out laughing. We realized it made him uncomfortable so we calmed ourselves down and made the proper introductions.
I was feeling like a flirt so I crossed my legs let my shoe dangle from my toes and tap against his leg. His eyes couldn't stay focused and he was disoriented as we made casual conversation about the weather places to see and visit in Boston. that didn't include some reference to Cheers or the Boston Tea Party. I let my shoe fall to the floor at his feet. "Eric, would you be a dear . . . ?" He knelt to one knee. His hands were shaking and I could tell he was in a trance. I wiggled my perfectly pedicured toes near his face and watched as I could tell his fascination for my feet was causing him to lose focus.
"We see you have a foot fetish, Eric," Jessica blurted out. I'm jealous. I want someone to pay attention to my feet. She slid around in her chair and positioned herself so that he could gaze upon her tootsies as well. I swear I could see his dick lurch in his slacks. While I was caramel in complexion, Jessi was deep chocolate. Her silver toe ring and cowry shell anklet complimented her feet perfectly, in my opinion, and I don't even have a foot fetish.
I winked at Jessi, giving her the secret code that signaled that we were going to have some fun with this guy. "Come Eric, I think you need to be the object of a future story." I threw some cash on the table and paid for our salads and we both grabbed a hand and pulled him to the elevator. Once the door closed, we were like cruel and relentless teases. We both whispered in Eric's ear about how we needed our feet massaged and pampered. We dragged him into our suite and closed the door behind him and he was our erotic prisoner, to tease and torment as we wished. "Sit!" He followed orders well and sat at the edge of bed patiently waiting while Jessi and I went in the bathroom. We came out wearing plush white bathrobes with the gold HR embroidered on them and sauntered out in our bare feet.
We sat on the sofa next to one another and called Eric to us. We instructed him to kneel at our feet. I stuck my foot out first and put it just inches from his face. "You've been fascinated with feet since you were a kid, haven't you Eric?" His nod of affirmation was the only way he could communicate. "You can't get off unless you fantasize about a Black woman's feet, can you Eric?" More frantic nodding. "What size foot do I have, Eric?"
"Eight," he said determined and correct
"Would you be a dear and massage my feet Eric," calling his name to reassure him he wasn’t having a dream. His hands were expert at gently caressing the soles of my feet. He stroked the tops of my feet tenderly and massaged each toe. Feeling bold, I took my other foot and placed it in his crotch. His erection was like steel. Jessica started tormenting him and she started rubbing her feet over his chest and shoulders. He was moaning out of control.
I tossed him a bottle of hotel lotion and told him to do Jessica's feet. He poured out the vanilla scented lotion and rubbed it in his hands to warm it. My partner in crime decided to step up the stakes and let her robe casually fall open so he could see her pussy. I had to giggle because I couldn't tell which vision had him more aroused, the cum colored lotion that was sliding around Jess's toes, or the slight detection of arousal that was forming between her legs. I was rubbing one foot against his dick and the other I let dangle close to his lips.
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Copyright 2004 AfroerotiK
