I met Ekater in college. She and I are attending the same classes. She is not French: Ekater left her native Bulgaria to study in France. It is a pretty young girl of 20 years with beautiful shapes, long brown hair, sexy hazel eyes, and especially a small accent to crack.



But the first day I saw her, it was mostly her feet that I noticed. She had to make the 36 or the 37. Small feet in sandals, revealing her toes made up of black varnish. I imagined their taste, and it must be delicious.

Soon, Ekater and I became close. Chating for hours on Facebook or talk on the phone. We did not say anything exceptional, not yet intimate confidences, we spoke mostly about our studies and our student life in general.

That night, while it was still mild for late September, we decided to take a break on the beach. There were not many people. Ekater wore a skirt, leaving her legs bare, and a pair of white converses on her feet that she decided to remove to make herself more comfortable.

I enjoyed the show. Loved the varnished feet, a little blushing, seemed to suffer from the heat and the walk.

We stayed a good ten minutes on this beach to enjoy the Indian summer before walking a bit together and then return to our homes.

All night, I thought back to that moment. I was angry at myself for not daring to tell her anything about her feet — something quite innocuous, like asking her if she was in pain or giving her any compliment.

This vision pushed me to want to discuss this subject with her. I wanted her feet. Touch them, smell them, discover their taste.



A few days later, as usual, we go back together. We live a few blocks apart. That night, as I had to give her a book, I invited her to come to my house. This was the first time she comes to my home. She settled on the sofa while I serve her a drink.

– “Will it bother you if I take off my shoes? My feet are a little tired, ” she said.

Even in my most twisted fantasies, I would never have hoped for so much.

– “Of course, go ahead, put yourself at ease.”

She then delicately removes her converses, then her socks. Her feet are there, naked in front of my eyes. The nails were always nicely varnished.

I bring her his glass of water, and, at the same time, I imagine a multitude of scenarios all crazier than each other. This time my state of excitement is such that I start without overthinking.

– “Your feet hurt you? I said, a little hesitantly.

– “Yes …”

– “A massage? ”

It remains a surprise. She probably did not expect such a proposal.

– “Do you want to give me a foot massage? It’s not a little weird …? ”

Why would that be weird? If it can do you good! And you know, I’m a good masseur. ”

– “Oh, ok, then.”

It’s there, and it’s now. Barely a month after our meeting, it is already the moment when I am about to touch her feet.

Ekater now lies on the couch, I sit down and take her feet on my lap. I can smell their sweet perfume delightful. They are still a little hot, hardly sweaty. Strangely, it’s not to displease me.

– “Sorry for the smell,” she told me shyly.

– “What smell? I do not feel anything at all, “I said, beginning my massage so as not to upset her.

I would have liked to tell her that this smell, on the contrary, made me even more inclined to approach my face with her plants.

I perform my massage as if nothing had happened, and this situation was perfectly normal. I love to put my hand on her feet.

– “You have pretty feet.”

– “Oh well, you think? They are ugly, though.”

-” I do not agree. They are cute! ”

She thanked me but seemed surprised by me.

I’m going for it.

“You know, there’s something I need to tell you. You’re going to find it weird, but it must come out. ”

– “Ah? Well, tell me.”

-” huh … But here, I love the feet. ” It is said. No more backtracking possible. My heart is racing and must pulsate to 150.

– ” That is to say? ”

-” That is to say that it is a part of the body, in girls, which excites me a lot … It is called a fetishism “.

She has already heard about it. At least, that’s what she tells me.

– “And you mean that there, my feet …” I do not let her finish her sentence.

– ” Yes. I like them a lot. ”

Ekater looks at me, shocked. I continue.

“You know, I would not have said that to any girl. But I feel that with you it’s different. We say a lot of things, and I thought you could understand my quirk. And, indeed, I have always noticed your feet. They are perfect.

– “Oh, Well, thank you then,” Ekater tells me. “I understand your fetishism, and it does not disgust me if that you feared.”

Here I am reassured and relieved to have been able to tell her of this massive secret.

– “Does it tell you to go on and try other things? I said, stroking her feet.

– “Why not, That can be funny.”

Ekater offers me her feet. I can finally feel them more closely, immerse myself in their perfume. I put one on my face, then two. It’s sweet, and it’s so good. I take one, take it to my mouth to drop my tongue. Then the second. The taste is divine.

I totally lose myself in front of what surrounds me, and I do not even know the reaction of Ekater, I only see her feet. My tongue now literally cleans her plants from heel to toe. I will spend hours there.

A telephone ring suddenly interrupts this intense moment. I have to give up her feet; she gets dressed while telling me that she apologizes for this call.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling on the doorstep, no doubt embarrassed by what had happened.

The state of frustration in which she leaves me is total but leaves me the hope to imagine a continuation of our adventures. And the memory of an unforgettable experience.