I raced through the terminal as they called the "final boarding" announcements.

"Crap, I can't miss this; it's the last flight of the night," I thought to myself with every fast step taken.

Thankfully I made it to the gate, they scanned my boarding pass and took a quick breath of relief. I walked down the empty, fluorescent light-flooded jetway, and imagined a full flight of eyeballs staring at me in disgust, wondering why the flight was delayed. So you can imagine my relief as I crossed from the jetway into the aircraft and saw a nearly empty plane. This was only a short hop from Charlotte, NC to New York LaGuardia airport, but I appreciated the extra room this late at night.

My assigned seat was in the second row; however, it was already occupied by a woman reading a book. She appeared to be young and attractive, but from my vantage point, all I could see was the top of a fabric baseball cap, some wavy dark hair, and a bit of knee skin showing through the rips in her jeans. Even though she was in my assigned seat, the rest of the row was empty, and I could have asked her to kindly move over. However, the entire first row in front was also completely empty. I didn't want to bother her, and knowing that I was the last person to board the plane, I just settled into the aisle seat of the first row, diagonally opposite her.

The flight attendants prepared the plane for takeoff, securing items and turning off the interior lights. I started to mindlessly scroll through Instagram and without even really noticing it, I hit a string of posts from the various foot fetish models I follow. One photo after the other were showing close-ups of their sexy feet, with stretched-out toes, close-ups, and other poses that highlight their feet and toes. Since no one was next to me on either side I didn't go out of my way to hide it.

The captain alerted the crew that we were next to depart, so I stowed my phone, and we raced down the runway and into the sky. Within a few minutes, the aircraft leveled out, the fasten seatbelt sign was turned off. However, the lights were remaining off for "the comfort of others." It wasn’t long after that announcement that I felt a tap on my aisle-side shoulder from behind.

I turned my head and saw the woman who was sitting in my originally assigned seat leaning forward toward me.

“Excuse me,” she said quietly, looking over the thin wire-framed glasses she was wearing to read her book. “I didn’t mean to pry, but I noticed what was on your phone before we took off.”

My mind tried to rush back, but I drew a blank, completely forgetting about the Instagram feed.

She continued, “I feel really weird asking,” she dropped her tone even quieter, “but are you, like... one of those foot fetish guys?”

I froze, somewhat horrified, but more shocked as I had never been asked the question so bluntly. I never really went out of my way to hide my fetish but had never been open about it either. 

She unbuckled and shifted to the aisle seat across from me in the first row. She continued, “I’m sorry, I just happened to glance at your phone while putting my book away before takeoff and saw the photos you were browsing. My girlfriends and I were literally just talking about different fetishes this weekend, and... well, I’ve never known anyone who... you know... um, likes that.”

It took me a minute to process her comment, but I composed myself and leaned over to match her in the middle of the aisle.

Answering her question, “Yeah, yes, guilty, I guess.”

With no one else around and being caught red-handed, there was no use hiding it.

“I am attracted to women’s feet... among other things. Is there anything you were particularly interested in knowing about it?”

She relaxed a bit from the casual nature of my answer and shifted her weight on her elbow.

“Well, I don’t know,” she quietly replied, pushing a strand of her long, curly black hair behind her ear. “I... I just don’t think there is anything sexy about feet... or even my feet for that matter.”

I looked down at her legs, finding them hidden behind a pair of jeans, rolled up to the high ankle and finished off with a pair of black combat boots.

“Excuse me for saying this, but it’s hard to let your feet be sexy when they are buried inside those heavy boots,” I said with a bit of a humorous tone.

“But that’s my style,” she replied.

“I know, and it works,” I responded. “But have you ever let anyone massage or pamper your feet?”

“Eww, no!” she countered, shifting a bit back into the seat.

I didn’t say a word in response. Instead, I unbuckled my seatbelt, lifted the armrests, and slid back across my row so my back was against the window. With my hands, I motioned for her to come over and sit in the seat I was previously in. She looked at me strangely, so I motioned again, this time a bit more animated. She looked slightly confused but got up and slid herself into the aisle seat in my row. I then motioned for her to put one of her feet up on the seat.

She appeared timid but eventually did it, lifting her left leg up and placing the heel of the boot on the seat between us. I reached for the laces and slowly unlaced them, gently loosening each row from its eyelet. When it was sufficiently loosened, I wrapped my hand behind the thick heel and slowly pulled the boot up and off of her foot. She was almost paralyzed in a mix of disbelief and intrigue but didn’t stop my actions. I placed the boot on the floor and lifted her foot in my hand. She had a foot that was slightly longer than most, but I could see it was very well-shaped even though it was still wrapped in a thin, light-colored sock.

She jerked slightly as I cupped it with both hands. I calmed her down with a reassuring glance and a soft “Shhh” sound. She returned my gaze through those cute round glasses tucked under the brim of that hat. I sized up her whole face, slightly rounded with a pointy chin. Her long, curly black hair emerged from below the hat and went in multiple directions before falling down across her shoulders. Her skin was tanned, with a Latin complexion, and I could see that she was slightly biting her neutral-toned lower lip in anticipation of what I might be planning.

I returned my attention back to her foot, pressing both thumbs deep in the middle of her foot and upward, making undulating moves from heel to toe. Her socks were warm and slightly damp from being inside such a heavy boot for so long on this summer day. I alternated pressure from my thumbs to my palms, slightly squeezing the outside edge of it. I worked my way up to just below the footpad, and with a deep final push upward, pressed on a spot that spread her toes outward. I heard a slight gasp from her as her leg relaxed slightly, and her knee slumped against the seatback.

The two rows behind us were empty, and being in the front row, we had the bulkhead in front of us. I shifted one hand to the top of her foot, rubbing it slightly, while my other hand slid back down to her heel, letting the ball of it fall into my palm and kneading it in a rolling motion. My top hand explored the upper part of her foot, running across the line of her toes and tracing the outside edge back to her ankle. From there, I reached my fingers up and curled them over and into the top of her sock. I looked back at her silently, and from over her knee, she gave me a silent nod of approval. I instantly pulled the sock down, around her heel, and over her toes, revealing her bare foot.

I looked at it from all sides. It looked perfectly sexy to me, but then again I am a “foot guy.” It was indeed long and overall thin in shape, probably a size 9 or so. I honestly had yet to get a good sense of how tall she was, given that she had been sitting each time we interacted. Inspecting some more I found her toes to be long and thin, making up most of the extra overall length. They were generally straight, not curled or turned over, with deep gaps between them, which made for very suckable toes in my opinion.

The nails were neutral in tone, but I didn’t expect much color or anything special from someone who admittedly didn’t pay much attention to her own feet. Her Latin skin was even more evident now as the bottom of her feet was a shade or two lighter than the top. Overall, they had small cute wrinkles on the bottom and well-defined vein pathways on top.

Without wasting another moment, I resumed massaging her foot. This time, I paid a ton of attention to her toes and arch. I would press in that same spot with one thumb, making her toes spread even wider now, while catching each toe individually in my other hand and rubbing it from top to bottom and inside the gap. After tending to each one, I placed my hands flat on the top and bottom of the foot and rub it up and down like an envelope. I could notice her beginning to rock slightly on her hips, which eventually became more pronounced. This made me think that this massage might be affecting her in other places.

I reached down and blindly untied her other boot with one hand. She helped by sliding out of it for me. With that same hand, I rubbed up the side of her ankle, under the jeans, and pulled the sock clean off. Without direction, she shifted her hips and lifted the other foot up and onto my lap. Shifting my attention to her other foot, I made many of the same massaging motions. Looking up, I could see her eyes closed behind her glasses and a very relaxed and content look on her face.

Once I had paid adequate attention to that foot, I took one in each hand and pressed them together, touching big toe to big toe, heel to heel, and making a nice circle between her instep. Grabbing both heels in the palm of one hand, I began to work the fingers of my other hand in and out of all the creases of both feet, and ultimately around the space created by her instep. She began slowly wiggling her toes in response, still with her eyes closed and her hips rolling in a tight circle.

Like a hawk studying its prey, I watched as her feet begin to scrunch and expand in rhythm as I probed the various openings of her toes and arches. They opened once more, and I reached in and placed my lips over three of the toes on her left foot. I felt her jerk slightly in surprise, but it was soon followed by a sexy, soft moan as I felt the toes relax inside my mouth. My tongue licked under the tender topmost part of her toes and then swirled around and through each gap. I released them from my lips, but not without a bit of suction to finish them off.

Still holding them lightly in my hands, I looked up at her. Overall, the lighting was very dark, with just the small light from the reading lamp she left on a row behind her and the odd blinking light from the wings outside. But as dark as it was, I could see that her eyes were now open and staring back at me. We locked eyes for a second, neither saying a word before she raised her eyebrows and pushed her foot back into my face. I kissed the bottom of her foot, just under her toes. I could feel them wrapping around my face as I kissed and licked her.

I ran my tongue over and around her arch, putting a good amount of pressure on it as I licked. Then I swirled back up and around the inside of her big toe. As I reached the top, I engulfed it in my mouth, sucking on it with a gentle force. It filled my mouth well. The overall length of her toe felt as if it was almost at the back of my throat. She moved her other foot from my hand and placed it on my shoulder, pushing the instep against my face. I released her big toe with a slurp and turned to lick her other foot. She spread her toes wide for me, and my tongue explored the deep gaps between each delicious toe. I could feel her flexing her heel downward to get extra stretch on her toes, giving me more area to lick.

Once I had tasted each gap, I opened my mouth wide to take them all in. Apparently, she had been watching me because she scrunched her toes tightly together and allowed me to insert all five of them into my mouth at once. They barely fit but I made sure to suck and lick any part that was past my lips. Her other foot fell to my lap and I could feel her heel grinding against my hard cock. I grabbed the foot in my mouth with both hands as I continued to suck and lick around all five toes before pulling it out and diving back in on the outer three toes. Sucking on them, I let my tongue flick in and out of the gaps as if I was licking a clit. I could feel her body really moving now as I had to tighten my grip. I released those and immediately put her big and second toe in my mouth, only this time I sucked on them like they were miniature dicks with my tongue rubbing the bottom of them as if I was milking them. 

With that, the captain interrupted our fun by announcing that we were about to land. I released her toes from my mouth, and she let them drop to my chest. I massaged them some more, but we both wanted to return to normal seating positions before the flight attendants came around. I gave her socks and boots back, but she kept them off as long as she could enjoy being barefoot and teasing me with them. 

As we descended toward the ground, we made general small talk. I asked her if this was her final destination, as it was mine. But unfortunately, it was not. She was leaving this plane and heading to another gate to connect with an international flight, and the timing was already too tight for any more playtime between flights. We exchanged numbers as I joked about being able to tell her friends that she now knew a “foot guy” who could answer any of their questions, and we parted ways in the terminal. 

A few days later, I woke up to a string of photos via text. They were from her and included an image of her getting a pedicure with a sexy white paint job and another showing off her feet in what appeared to be newly purchased open-toed and strap heels. A simple text accompanied them, “I thought you might like these.”

She was right.