This choice: Her boyfriend, post-third date, visiting her house for the first time • Go Back...Chapter #4Her boyfriend, post-third date, visiting her ho... by: Joker   With a tiny click, Daisy unlocked the door to her loft above the gym and the door swung open.
"My two sisters have the same arrangement. We used to just treat the entire third floor as one big house for all of us, but then we started bringing guys home, and...well, this works out better." Daisy commented as she stepped in.
You stepped in behind her, not believing your luck. Sure, you had things going pretty well for yourself. You were a top 20 trainer in the Kanto region, you made good money off your victories in tournaments, and seemed to always be reasonably popular amongst the ladies. But to be going out with THE Daisy Waterflower was something else. Current heir to the massive Waterflower estate and legacy, a prestigious family with an official Kanto Gym to their name. Recently ranked as the 2nd most beautiful woman in Kanto by The Ladies of Kanto magazine, the issue of which featured her doing a memorable six page bikini spread that found a home in the bedroom of just about every teenage male around. And here you were.
"I can't imagine Lily was too happy about coming in 17th in The Ladies of Kanto last month," you quipped, chucking awkwardly.
"She's young," Daisy replied dismissively, stepping to the left side of the door as you entered. "Her body hasn't filled out all the way yet. Right now she's just cute. She'll be fine." She slipped her feet out of her red flip-flops. You couldn't help but watch this action closely, your mind getting excited at the prospect of seeing her barefoot up close for the first time.
Ever since the Sensational Sisters had started their shows a couple years ago, you had made a point to see as many of them as you could. Not for the swimming antics. No, there was more to it than that. You had always been simply captivated by Daisy Waterflower's feet. Feet had always been a point of attraction to you. Who knew why? A crossed wire or some childhood experience perhaps, but even as a child there was something about feet you liked more than anything else.
Daisy's feet in particular drew you in. One of the reasons she was such a fantastic swimmer, no doubt, was the pair of built-in flippers she had on her feet. Her feet were massive. Yet not in an ugly, man-feet sort of way. Even though her feet were huge, perhaps a size twelve or thirteen, they were not at all unattractive. They maintained their femininity and seemed very well taken care of, and you always kept one eye on them during shows. Whenever she did a photo shoot for something, you picked up a copy of the results in the hopes of seeing her barefoot, and she hardly ever disappointed. Her bikini spread the previous month had been like Christmas for you, but for different reasons than most other people.
"Make yourself comfortable," she instructed as the lights on the ceiling flickered on and she strode across the red carpet towards the kitchen on the left side of the lounge room. "I'll get out some wine." You couldn't help but notice her red-toenail paint matched perfectly with the carpet.
"Should I take mine off too?" You asked dully, pointing down at your shoes. Daisy turned around to look at you. "Do you...do you do the Japanese thing?"
Daisy shrugged. "I don't care." She turned back and walked into the kitchen.
You took in a deep breath, then decided it would be polite and kicked your black dress shoes off. A few weeks ago, you met her at the Indigo League tournament during an after-party, and she was wearing white heels. She had been quite impressed with your performance in the tournament and wasted no time with subtly when flirting with you. And yes, part of your mind did recognize how pathetic it was that you could even remember her footwear, or had even bothered to think about it, when she was hitting on you so viciously, but fetishes are fetishes.
You sat yourself down on the couch, mind still racing with thoughts of feet. The first date had been to a particularly fancy restaurant, she wore brown ankle boots. The second date, a history museum, platform sandals. And tonight, finally, your patience was rewarded with a pair of flip-flops for a beach stroll. You snuck glances whenever you felt you could, but clearly you were doing something right. After all, you were here now.
"Red or white?" Daisy called from the kitchen.
"I don't know, I don't drink," you said, leaning back against the back of the couch. "What do you want?"
"I don't drink either. I was hoping you would know."
"Why do you have wine then?" You asked, smirking to yourself.
"I dunno. It seemed like a good thing to have." She paused. "I have grape juice. Isn't wine made from grapes? What's the difference?"
"I...well, I'm sure the process is a little different, and grape juice doesn't have alcohol in it." You said.
"I watched a thing on TV a couple weeks ago about how wine gets made. A bunch of grapes get put in a giant bucket and people stomp on them barefoot." Daisy came out of the kitchen, holding two bottles of grape soda in her hands.
You bit your lower lip. Could...could she...no, how could she know? There was no way. It was a coincidence. Still, you started to sweat a little bit and could feel yourself getting riled up. You needed a topic change, fast.
"I thought it looked sort of fun, but that's weird, isn't it?" She sat down heavily next to you, handing you one of the bottles, crossing her legs underneath her. "I mean, it's really kind of gross. When you're drinking wine, you're drinking something that someone had their feet in." She twisted the cap off her bottle and took a sip. "Well, they probably have rules. I hope you have to clean your feet and take good care of them to do something like that."
"Yeah...yeah, I'm sure they do." You smiled nervously.
And then, she stuck her right foot straight out in front of her towards the large TV in front of the couch, flexing it around and wiggling her toes. "I have nice feet, don't I?"
You groaned slightly. This wasn't fair. This was cruel. Your could feel your libido rising, but didn't dare look away from the sight of her wriggling foot. This sort of thing didn't happen all the time.
"Yes," you choked out, nodding.
"I take good care of them too-"
"So! How's swimming going...lately?" You blurted out, desperate to steer the conversation away from feet.
"Oh, really good, although...Violet did break my lap record a couple days ago." Daisy took another sip from the bottle. "Had that record for months now."
"Well, I'm sure you'll get it back." You took your own sip from the grape juice bottle, trying to relax your body again.
"I give her a hard time, tell her she's cheating." Daisy giggled.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, she has webbed toes." Daisy smiled.
Okay.
What the hell.
"W-webbed toes?" You repeated, face going taut as you lowered the bottle from your lips.
"Yeah, you know?" She swung her right foot back onto the couch, resting it just a few inches away from your thigh, and spread her toes out wide. As you watched in rapt fascination, she bent her body forward and pointed at the small flap of skin between her big toe and second toe. "She's got a little bit of extra skin right here, it goes up a little further, so they're a little more like flippers. She has them all the way down her foot." She pointed at the spaces between all of the toes on her right foot. "Both feet. It looks pretty weird, but-"
"Okay okay! You win! I surrender!" You jumped up, face going red, hands nervously playing with the bottle. "You win! You got me!"
Daisy went slightly red herself, a blank expression on her face. "I win what?"
"You did it! You got me more wound up than a music box! My motor is running on all cylinders!" You responded, reaching up to tug at the collar of your dress shirt to release some heat. "I can hardly remember my brother's name right now!"
She continued to blink dimly up at you, saying nothing, a look of concern on her face.
"Yes, I have a foot fetish, and yes, your feet are mesmerizing! I don't know how you figured it out, but you got me cracked like an egg!" You shouted. "...sorry, sorry! It's just...that was mean!" You plopped back down on the couch. "It's one thing to see them in magazines, but to be a couple feet away from them? I...damn, my head is spinning!" You took in a deep breath. "So is this the part where you kick me out?"
"You...you like my feet?" Daisy asked, glancing down at her large, red toenail-painted left foot.
"They're amazing," You muttered. "Breathtaking. Just like the rest of you."
"So you would be in to...worshipping them?" Daisy raised an eyebrow. "Like kissing them? Sucking on my toes?"
Your mouth fell open slightly and you looked over at her. "What?"
"Well?" Daisy crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you?"
It took a moment for you to process the question, and you finally croaked out the answer. "Y-yes."
"Well..." she swung both her legs out from under her and planted her feet on your lap, laying back on the couch. "Let's not beat around the bush!"
You gaped down at her massive, spectacular feet, than looked up at her smirking face.
"You have a lot to learn about women. Here's a tip: Most of us love the idea of having our feet worshipped by a man. Now, don't disappoint." She wiggled her toes back and forth again.
You...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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