It's the first Tuesday of the month, which means it's time for another off-season discussion. My mind is always running as to how I can become quite innovative in preperation for the established celebrity fantasy league that make its return for a new season next February. One way to do this is that I'd fuigure to entertain everyone and celebrate our never-ending fascination for our foot fetishism.
What better why than to indulge that than by reading erotic material from the creative mind of the National Femme Famosas?
----
This story you're about to read features one of the girls who will make her return next year. Her name is Kate Beckinsale. For those not familiar with how she looks like, here she is:
Without further wait, here is the story for you to enjoy.
----
National Femme Famosas' Cinema Erotica.
Kate stepped out into the brisk night air, clutching her coat around her. Her defining, long hair glowed under the street lamps, helping to showcase the night skies above. Her fingers, toes, and lucious pout were painted in deep scarlet in sharp contrast to her cream-like skin. Dressed in a flimsy chemise, sheer, black thigh-high stockings, a garter belt, full-cut panties and a bra undrerneath, she felt exposed yet powerful.
Her mundane duties as a waitress had kept her on her gorgeous gams all day long. The job forced her to wear an unflattering, shapeless skirt that hid her stems from appreciative eyes, and sensible shoes that oppressed the high arches of her delicate, white feet. While working, she watched the influential corporate types having powerful breakfast and lunches, taking conference calls via cell phone, wheelin' and dealin'. Kate didn't plan on being a waitress forever; she had aspirations of Park Avenue living.
By night, Kate Beckinsale donned a fetishistic ensemble to tap into her alter-ego, more of a seductress and vamp extrodinaire.
Stepping into an interior of her '62 Lincoln Continental -- a hand-me-down gift form her suggar-daddy admirers -- Beckinsale removed the coat, stretched her leggy frame and lounged languidly, enjoying the way the smooth, cold seat felt against her almost bare-ass ckeeks. Even with the leather's crack and signs of wear and tear, Kate would never trade it for a newfangled import. She'd always had a fondness for vintage things, from clothing to cars to wine. Like the old-fashioned panties and stockings she wore, classic cars had a kind of charm and sophistication she found lacking of this day and age. She would never forsake her wheels for a new car, the way so many men abandon old pussy for young.
Her previous car had been far too cramped for her legs, not allowing much room to maneuver at all. She had a predilection for fucking in big American cars dating back to her early high school days. Maybe it was the possibility of being discovered; perhaps it was all the power under the hood that reeved her motor. In any case, this ride was more her style.
Rivulets of freshly fallen rain streaked the window panes, catching the glare of overhead street lights as Beckinsale cruised down the boulevard on her way to a rendezvous with her boy-toy. He was a successful and wealthy CEO who frequented her establishment several times a week, looking immaculate and always leaving a generous tip. Beneath his conservative exterior, however, lurked a frenzied foot fiend. Kate discovered this the afternoon she caught him staring at her feet as she rubbed her aching soles while on a break outside; she noticed than an obvious bulge had sprouted his custom-tailered pants.
They'd gotten better acquainted in his limousine, and as their relationship progressed, thier toe-sucking trysts had become a regular occurance. Although he had many women at his disposal, they were too availible, and too eager to please. During his time off, he liked to have the tables turned, to be manipulated and maddeningly teased to the brink of insanity -- to be humiliated, and to grovel at the feet of a beautiful woman. He bacame one of many slaves to worship her feet.
Ms. Beckinsale always insisted on driving to pick him up. This way, he was completely at her mercy. Arriving at his office, she discreetly ushers her fare inside. She begins slowly crossing and uncrossing her legs, taking pleasure in the swishing sounds the sheer fabric makes against her legs.
Straddling the steering wheel, she plants her five-inch patent-leather heels on the dash, caressing her milky-white thighs and cupping her breasts. The tease began as she slowly removes her blouse and shoes, pausing the lick the heel of one. Sprawling across the length of the front seat, she wiggles her stocking-clad toes invitingly in the air, but wears a knowingly stern expression as if to say, Ah, ah, ah --- look, but don't touch! Rolling onto her back, her legs extended, she explores the texture of the worn upholstry and the cold metal of the various controls with the soles of her feet. She drapes herself across the seat back to treat her john to her fine, high rump and her legs dangling in the air. But the driver's seat is where she really belongs.
As she unsnaps her bra, her pale globes are set free. She then proceeds to slowly peel the gossamer fabric of her stockings from her legs, flinging the soiled undergarments in his face. He inhales its rich, musky odor deeply, growing lightheaded and delirious with desire. Coquettishly, she licks and sucks each one of her ruby-painted toes. "And this little piggy cired whee, whee, whee all the way home," she taunts with her English accent, lingering on her little toe.
She won't let him lick her tasty tooties. However, she will design to paw at his throbbing cock with her pristine peds. Flexing and pointing her toes, she rubs them back and forth against his crotch, the curves of her arches hugging his pulsating erection. "Enough for now," she says abruptly, sitting upright and starting the ignition.
Dropping him off in front of the building that houses his penthouse suite, she presses $50 into his pants. "This is for you, you filthy slut," she hisses. Kate can afford the gesture. Soon she'll quit her day job and spend her days in the lap of luxury and her nights in the underbelly of sin. Degrading a man of his stature is certainly $50 well spent, she smiles to herself with smug satisfaction. But that look in his eyes was priceless.
----
One more thing before I go. Most of you already know which girls will return for next year's contest. And you know of five of the 16 new girls who will join the ranks next year. Well now, let me introduce you to another new girl who will participate next year.
She is quite underrated, or rarely talked about, in the admiration of us foot fetishists, yet she is one of the foundations at she is recognized for. Someone sent me a private message to make a recommendation that I put this girl in for the new season. I gave a LOT of thought to this one, and decided that if there's any contest that will best immortalize her, the National Femme Famosas will be her calling card.
Here is a clip of her on youtube on what she's been up to lately. The clip isn't foot fetish-related, but you should appreciate what she has done.
posted
Nice story you got there, National. Just thought I'd chip in my two cents here. It was well put together. Nice to see some foot fetish erotic material on Wus.
I'd just wish I was the one in place of that guy by having, what seemed like, countless opportunities to worship Kate's feet.
The teasing aspect was cool as well. The way everything was described didn't miss a beat. It was like a blueprint of how our fantasies are motioned.
The story was great, and so was that new addition to your game next season. Of all new girls I thought you'd put in, she wasn't one of those who ever ran through my mind. That was an ingenious selection who will make the game quite interesting.
Thanks for the story.
Posts: 33 | Registered: Jan 2008
| IP: Logged |
UBBFriend: Email this page to someone!
Printer-friendly view of this topic
