Ask & You Shall Receive


Sometimes, although rarely, I feel like the open eye of God is upon me. Which is curious because I have been called an atheist many times. If I were more energetic, I would refute this vehemently. I am a deeply, deeply spiritual person.

Just because I like to spend my money ( or other people's money) on ephemeral pleasures like a fine meal, fresh flowers & perfume does not make me shallow. Maybe just the opposite. I am all too aware of the transitory nature of life.

Through the course of my third session, I came to meet & befriend Boris, a Russian physicist who lived in Cambridge. By his own admission, he was a bit of an elitist regarding his own self indulgences. He was an erotic aesthetic & civilized atheist. As so many of them are. Soft spoken and a connoisseur of fine furniture,food and art, Boris taught me many things. He was the one who stressed the importance between real silk stockings & mere nylons. Because of him I own a modest but careful array of rare silk hosiery & vintage fripperies. He was a godsend. You can't imagine how costly these things can be.

He also had a passionate desire for a woman's foot. What can I say? It's a niche. He had stressed to me however, that he was NOT a submissive but simply a man with a sexual focus on the foot. This would call for a different energy altogether. This particular scene seemed more sexual to me, than the others had and I wasn't sure why yet. I figured that I would just play it by ear.

I met him at his ivy covered brownstone. There were slabs of stone steps leading up to a glass & wood vestibule. His apartment contained very little but what he had was superb. There was a very large, 200 year old Italian desk that he worked off of & well worn Persian rugs. His coffee table was an ancient marble door laid across the top of an old trunk. On it he had laid out with great precision a bottle of Taylor's 30 year old tawny Port, room temperature Stilton cheese & pepper crackers. The glasses were squat & gleamed dully in the low over head lights. He even had some & sexy house music playing in the background.

He nodded toward the sofa. I took a seat carefully as I was wearing one of the most elegant, erotic, unusual & uncomfortable things that I owned. While I was at the fair I had selected a hand made corset. It had been created out of old textile fabric & the print was of geisha's bathing. Under it I had on a sheer black long sleeved jersey. The corset cupped my breast from underneath. I wore a black wrap skirt(bare legged upon request)& sexy suede boots. On our first meeting, he knew that I was wearing the scent Joy. After speaking with him on the phone several times, it was evident he was a man who would appreciate such things. No point casting pearls before swine.

Boris handed me a cracker slathered with cheese & a tumbler full of port. He told me it would taste of butterscotch & it did. He had a gift for me. They were a pair of Falke thigh highs of the twenties series. Boris told me this breathlessly as he leaned forward. He was intently watching as I unwrapped the stockings. They were really fine fishnets. They were filmy as spider webs & sooty black. Beautiful. Boris asked if he could unzip my boots. I nodded silently as I sipped my port. He did so reverently & kissed the inside of my ankles. He then with great skill & delicacy pulled the stockings up & over my leg. They went as high as my thigh, where he lingered as he fastidiously straightened them.

We both stared admiringly at my leg. It was encased in the finest of silk & it just looked so....right. Boris sighed in pleasure, lost in some private & sensual reverie of his own. My own heart quickened when I glanced over at the side table. On it were three more luxurious packages. I could tell they were also Falke stockings. I had quickly acquired a taste for both the silk pretties & the port.

Still, I was nothing if not a quick study. I arched my foot in sheer delight & ran my toes softly across his lips.

He looked up & smiled.