Under Her Thumb - Sex Stories

Under Her Thumb

... office, she has already hung up. ‘Is that the same cup you used the first time?’ ‘N-no, Ms. Saunders. I took a new one from the cupboard.’ ‘Good. Step around the desk. I’ll need a foot massage.’ The off-curriculum tasks are beginning to become clear to me. I think personal servant would be a better description. Yet I do not complain. Twelve hours ago, I was on the verge of being fired. Ms. Saunders swivels around and raises her left foot towards me as I come to her side. I get to my knees and place it on my lap. She is wearing a dress and no panties today. I remove her moccasin and am immediately engulfed in a cloud of sour foot odor. Ms. Saunders is on the phone again. ‘Sara, punch me through to Mr. Carrington.’ I start massaging the sole of her foot with my thumbs. A former girlfriend taught me. ‘Not like that. Use your tongue.’ I look up at her, dumbfounded, but regain composure quickly. I guess after yesterday, nothing should surprise me from this woman. The phone rings and Ms. Saunders starts talking with Mr. Carrington, the general manager and one of the senior partners. I lower my head towards her foot and start licking hesitantly. It is damp and hot and tastes of sour sweat. Without interrupting her conversation, Ms. Saunders shoots an angry look at me and kicks my nose with the ball of her foot, then thrusts it hard against my lips. I take it she expects more vigor, so I broaden my tongue and lap up and down her broad sole. By shifting the position of her foot, she ...

... guides me to the spots where she requires special attention. After a while, she withdraws it and wiggles her toes, then inserts her big toe into my mouth. I suck on it like a baby on his mother’s tit. With amazing dexterity, she snatches my tongue between two toes and presses them hard together. I slither my tongue to and fro between her toes, then pass on to the next. When I am done, she withdraws her foot and pushes the other one in my face. My tongue is dry and raw as sandpaper when I finally finish. Ms. Saunders has hung up and is reading through some mail on her computer. ‘You’re going to have to work a bit on your foot licking skills if you expect to last in my service. We’ll take that up later. Right now I need to go. Follow me.’ She gets up and steps through a door beside her desk. It is a bathroom with a closet along one wall and a washbasin, a toilet and a bidet along the other. Behind the glass door on the far end I make out a shower. ‘Kneel down on the floor behind the bidet. In time you will learn not to make a mess, but for now we’ll have to do it this way.’ I’m not sure what she is planning, but I wring my body between the wall and the back of the bidet. There is little space so I have the bowl of the bidet between my folded legs. Ms. Saunders straddles the bidet from the other side and gathers her dress around her waist. She is wearing white cotton briefs which go all the way up to her belly button, where the elastic band dents the white flesh of her enormous ...