arkham
09-30-2002, 7:27 PM
This is called: A Peeper's Paradise
I found it on: http://1hotfootfetish.com/fmarlise.htm
I'm not sure who the writer was, but it is called: "marlise's story"
If posting this is against the rules or anything, let me know.
I have two problematic compulsions. One, I like feet. Two, I like peeping in windows. I moved to Maine a few years back in an attempt to control these compulsions. Let’s face it, there are not very many outlets for foot fetishism in New England. Plus, it is difficult to peep in windows where I live – my closest neighbor is half a mile across the lake from me.
This proved an equitable arrangement for at first. It is cold up here most of the time, so I do not see too many women walking around barefooted. Plus, that closest neighbor across the lake was an old geezer that I could have cared less about. The problem was that old geezer kicked the bucket last month, and left his cabin to his niece from somewhere in the southwest. Her name is Marlise, and she is a cutie! She has dark, lush hair; deep, sensual, brown eyes; vibrant, olive-toned skin; and a killer body that brings on involuntary erections at the most inopportune moments.
Example: She came over to my cabin the first day after she moved in. I do not get many visitors so was not prepared to meet her. When she knocked on my door, I answered wearing only sweat pants with no underwear.
"Hi," she said, innocently. "I’m Marlise. I just moved into the cabin across the way." She extended her hand out to me, but I did not take it. In fact, I said nothing at all. I just stood there looking dull-witted because her beauty and sex appeal had over rode my response mechanisms. She looked at me peculiarly at first, then her face turned into a grimace of disgust, and she turned away rather quickly, walking back towards her own cabin. Confused, I looked down at my person, and there, to my disgrace, saw my dick pointing forward like a flagpole trying to bust through the fabric of my pants. I quickly pushed it down, but it was too late. The damage was done, and permanent. Whenever she would see me in town (it’s a small town), she pretended like she didn’t know me, and when I waved to her from across the lake she ignored me. As a result, I devolved back into my ugly habit of peeping into windows.
It started again about two weeks ago. Every morning she would work out in her garden. I peered at her through my window – I did not have the guts to openly come out and stare. Like I said though, she lives about a half mile away, so I could not get a good look. So I bought a pair of binoculars. That worked better, but I could not see her feet very well because of foliage and other obstacles. This was excruciatingly frustrating because she would usually go out bare foot. That much I could tell from my vantagepoint when she would come out her door.
One night I became really desperate, and decided I could not take it any more. I had to have a closer look at those peds of hers. So I snuck outside and crept over to her side of the lake. I came upon her cabin, and to my delight, saw she had no outside lights on, but her entire house was lit up on the inside. A peeper’s paradise.
‘Excellent,’ I thought jittering with excitement. I slinked my way up to her window. She had the drapes closed, but there was a crack in the middle where they did not meet. I peered in. There, on the sofa, she lay, bare foot, reading a book. She had on a tank top and tight cycle shorts, exposing her long, tanned legs. Her feet were unbelievable. Slender, delicate, with a curvaceous arch that seemed perfectly sculpted. I began sucking air. I watched her thus for about an hour, the crickets chirping in the woods around us. She did not have the slightest clue that I was out there. After a while, she got up, yawned and stretched, turned off the light, and padded into the hallway towards the bathroom. I quickly slunk my way over to that section of the cabin. There were no drapes there! I arrived just in time to see her pull down her shorts, and step naked into the already running shower. I gasped for breath!
Five minutes later, she stepped out of the shower, and toweled herself down. She put one foot up on the bathtub at a time, as she dried those lovely feet of hers. She was meticulous about them, first drying the heel, then getting in between her toes. She then wrapped the towel around herself, sat down on the tub, her black hair hanging silkily down her shoulders, and began dusting her feet with baby powder. After that, she massaged the powder into them with her fingers, all the while flexing her toes and rotating her ankles back and forth. It was too much for me to handle. I let out an audible moan. She stopped rubbing her feet and looked up at the window. My heart stopped, but my legs automatically picked up and started running.
About halfway to my house I thought:
‘Shit.’ I should have never started running. There was only one person it could have logically been standing outside her window, and she would know it. This caused me to slow down my pace, and walk over behind a tree to see what was happening back at her cabin. All the lights were on outside now, and she was walking around with a flashlight. A few minutes later, a patrol car pulled up into her driveway. This got me to running again. When the cop came to my house – as I knew he would – I knew I had better be there to answer the door.
The cops came by my place about an hour later. I pretended like I had just gotten out of bed. When they asked me if I had seen or heard anything strange that night I answered in the negative. Seemingly unconvinced, they left me with a warning to lock my doors and windows. There was an edginess to their stares and tones that told me they did not buy that I had not "seen anything," though.
You would probably think a scare like that would be enough to knock some sense into me, but you have never seen Marlise’s feet. They are to die for. That next night, I went back over to her place. To my surprise, there were no differences in her set up. I assumed after the night before she would have all kinds of deck lights on outside, lighting the place up like the 4th of July. It was as dark and accessible as the previous night, though. My skin blushing with anticipation and excitement, again I slunk stealthily to her living room window to peek inside. Once more, she was on her couch, barefooted, reading a book. After about five minutes of reading, she got up and stretched out her body. She then turned as if she were going back into the bathroom. I started to make my way back there as well, but then the door swung open.
"Freeze," she warned. She was pointing a double barrel rifle right at me. I reflexively put my arms up and stood stock-still. She considered me for a moment there in the darkness, then started to laugh. "I figured it was you," she said sarcastically. "I also figured you’d be back again tonight." I was deathly silent, scared to death about what she might do next. "Did you at least where some underwear this time?" I could not answer. "Answer me!"
"Yes," I stammered. Satisfied by my fear, she shrugged and said:
"Good. Take them off." Did I hear her right? "Take off all your clothes. Now." Out of fear and excitement, I pulled my clothes off frantically and stood there, in the cool, night breeze, stark naked. "Lay down on your back," she ordered, the gun still on me. I did, and she walked and stood over me. "Spread ‘em," she said, and indicated my legs with her gun. When I did, she smiled at my now totally exposed cock. "Not bad. Do you know what I like to do?" I shook my head from the ground. "I like to trample men’s genitals with my bare feet. Do you think you could handle that?" I nodded my head yes. I could not believe what was happening at this point. She walked on top of the area around my genitals, and started mashing my cock and balls with her feet. If I thought her feet were pretty before, ohhh how I was not prepared for how they felt! She slid her arch expertly and deliberately over my testicles. Her toes, I discovered, were slender and well defined. They were almost as flexible and coordinated as fingers, too as she demonstrated by grabbing my penis with them, and flicking it to and fro. For about ten minutes she trampled me thus, sometimes daintily, other times heavily. After I could take no more, I exploded in a white wash of cum all over the ground and on her feet.
"Ooohhhh," she grimaced in disgust. She backtracked off of me then, and began to wipe my own semen off her feet and on to my legs. Then she began giggling. "I guess you must have had a lot of tension stored up in there. I never saw anyone explode so hard before!" She then shrugged, and walked back into her cabin. I remained on the ground, naked and cum soaked, not knowing what to do next.
(to be cont)
I found it on: http://1hotfootfetish.com/fmarlise.htm
I'm not sure who the writer was, but it is called: "marlise's story"
If posting this is against the rules or anything, let me know.
I have two problematic compulsions. One, I like feet. Two, I like peeping in windows. I moved to Maine a few years back in an attempt to control these compulsions. Let’s face it, there are not very many outlets for foot fetishism in New England. Plus, it is difficult to peep in windows where I live – my closest neighbor is half a mile across the lake from me.
This proved an equitable arrangement for at first. It is cold up here most of the time, so I do not see too many women walking around barefooted. Plus, that closest neighbor across the lake was an old geezer that I could have cared less about. The problem was that old geezer kicked the bucket last month, and left his cabin to his niece from somewhere in the southwest. Her name is Marlise, and she is a cutie! She has dark, lush hair; deep, sensual, brown eyes; vibrant, olive-toned skin; and a killer body that brings on involuntary erections at the most inopportune moments.
Example: She came over to my cabin the first day after she moved in. I do not get many visitors so was not prepared to meet her. When she knocked on my door, I answered wearing only sweat pants with no underwear.
"Hi," she said, innocently. "I’m Marlise. I just moved into the cabin across the way." She extended her hand out to me, but I did not take it. In fact, I said nothing at all. I just stood there looking dull-witted because her beauty and sex appeal had over rode my response mechanisms. She looked at me peculiarly at first, then her face turned into a grimace of disgust, and she turned away rather quickly, walking back towards her own cabin. Confused, I looked down at my person, and there, to my disgrace, saw my dick pointing forward like a flagpole trying to bust through the fabric of my pants. I quickly pushed it down, but it was too late. The damage was done, and permanent. Whenever she would see me in town (it’s a small town), she pretended like she didn’t know me, and when I waved to her from across the lake she ignored me. As a result, I devolved back into my ugly habit of peeping into windows.
It started again about two weeks ago. Every morning she would work out in her garden. I peered at her through my window – I did not have the guts to openly come out and stare. Like I said though, she lives about a half mile away, so I could not get a good look. So I bought a pair of binoculars. That worked better, but I could not see her feet very well because of foliage and other obstacles. This was excruciatingly frustrating because she would usually go out bare foot. That much I could tell from my vantagepoint when she would come out her door.
One night I became really desperate, and decided I could not take it any more. I had to have a closer look at those peds of hers. So I snuck outside and crept over to her side of the lake. I came upon her cabin, and to my delight, saw she had no outside lights on, but her entire house was lit up on the inside. A peeper’s paradise.
‘Excellent,’ I thought jittering with excitement. I slinked my way up to her window. She had the drapes closed, but there was a crack in the middle where they did not meet. I peered in. There, on the sofa, she lay, bare foot, reading a book. She had on a tank top and tight cycle shorts, exposing her long, tanned legs. Her feet were unbelievable. Slender, delicate, with a curvaceous arch that seemed perfectly sculpted. I began sucking air. I watched her thus for about an hour, the crickets chirping in the woods around us. She did not have the slightest clue that I was out there. After a while, she got up, yawned and stretched, turned off the light, and padded into the hallway towards the bathroom. I quickly slunk my way over to that section of the cabin. There were no drapes there! I arrived just in time to see her pull down her shorts, and step naked into the already running shower. I gasped for breath!
Five minutes later, she stepped out of the shower, and toweled herself down. She put one foot up on the bathtub at a time, as she dried those lovely feet of hers. She was meticulous about them, first drying the heel, then getting in between her toes. She then wrapped the towel around herself, sat down on the tub, her black hair hanging silkily down her shoulders, and began dusting her feet with baby powder. After that, she massaged the powder into them with her fingers, all the while flexing her toes and rotating her ankles back and forth. It was too much for me to handle. I let out an audible moan. She stopped rubbing her feet and looked up at the window. My heart stopped, but my legs automatically picked up and started running.
About halfway to my house I thought:
‘Shit.’ I should have never started running. There was only one person it could have logically been standing outside her window, and she would know it. This caused me to slow down my pace, and walk over behind a tree to see what was happening back at her cabin. All the lights were on outside now, and she was walking around with a flashlight. A few minutes later, a patrol car pulled up into her driveway. This got me to running again. When the cop came to my house – as I knew he would – I knew I had better be there to answer the door.
The cops came by my place about an hour later. I pretended like I had just gotten out of bed. When they asked me if I had seen or heard anything strange that night I answered in the negative. Seemingly unconvinced, they left me with a warning to lock my doors and windows. There was an edginess to their stares and tones that told me they did not buy that I had not "seen anything," though.
You would probably think a scare like that would be enough to knock some sense into me, but you have never seen Marlise’s feet. They are to die for. That next night, I went back over to her place. To my surprise, there were no differences in her set up. I assumed after the night before she would have all kinds of deck lights on outside, lighting the place up like the 4th of July. It was as dark and accessible as the previous night, though. My skin blushing with anticipation and excitement, again I slunk stealthily to her living room window to peek inside. Once more, she was on her couch, barefooted, reading a book. After about five minutes of reading, she got up and stretched out her body. She then turned as if she were going back into the bathroom. I started to make my way back there as well, but then the door swung open.
"Freeze," she warned. She was pointing a double barrel rifle right at me. I reflexively put my arms up and stood stock-still. She considered me for a moment there in the darkness, then started to laugh. "I figured it was you," she said sarcastically. "I also figured you’d be back again tonight." I was deathly silent, scared to death about what she might do next. "Did you at least where some underwear this time?" I could not answer. "Answer me!"
"Yes," I stammered. Satisfied by my fear, she shrugged and said:
"Good. Take them off." Did I hear her right? "Take off all your clothes. Now." Out of fear and excitement, I pulled my clothes off frantically and stood there, in the cool, night breeze, stark naked. "Lay down on your back," she ordered, the gun still on me. I did, and she walked and stood over me. "Spread ‘em," she said, and indicated my legs with her gun. When I did, she smiled at my now totally exposed cock. "Not bad. Do you know what I like to do?" I shook my head from the ground. "I like to trample men’s genitals with my bare feet. Do you think you could handle that?" I nodded my head yes. I could not believe what was happening at this point. She walked on top of the area around my genitals, and started mashing my cock and balls with her feet. If I thought her feet were pretty before, ohhh how I was not prepared for how they felt! She slid her arch expertly and deliberately over my testicles. Her toes, I discovered, were slender and well defined. They were almost as flexible and coordinated as fingers, too as she demonstrated by grabbing my penis with them, and flicking it to and fro. For about ten minutes she trampled me thus, sometimes daintily, other times heavily. After I could take no more, I exploded in a white wash of cum all over the ground and on her feet.
"Ooohhhh," she grimaced in disgust. She backtracked off of me then, and began to wipe my own semen off her feet and on to my legs. Then she began giggling. "I guess you must have had a lot of tension stored up in there. I never saw anyone explode so hard before!" She then shrugged, and walked back into her cabin. I remained on the ground, naked and cum soaked, not knowing what to do next.
(to be cont)