Disclaimer: The following story contains words. Uh-oh. 
Sometimes in this story these words make sentences that may 
possibly have something to do with sex. Uh-oh. If you are 
under the age of 18, or are otherwise offended by words 
that may mean sexual things, don't read this story.

Attention: This is my first story for asstr.org. Please 
send all comments, concerns, compliments, complaints, and 
any other words that start with "co-" to 
sadclowninvelvet@yahoo.com. I would really appreciate it.

PS: This story involves a man with a foot fetish and 
depicts footjobs in action. I understand that this may not 
be everyone's bag, but please read the story anyway. You 
just may like it.

PPS: This story is copyright Jingo 2003. Any similarity to 
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. If such a 
coincidence were to occur, I would like to meet the people 
involved and shake their hands, after they washed them. As 
Kurt Vonnegut often says: the names have not been changed 
to protect the innocent, as God Himself protects the 
innocent as a matter of Heavenly routine.

The Lifeguard Fetish
	(MF, Mf, oral, feet)

To whom is may concern:
	As the time of this writing, I am 31 years old. I am 
6'7". I weigh 147 pounds. I work out 4 times a week. My 
wife says she loves my body. But I'm getting ahead of 
	This is a story about my fetish.
	Back 17 years ago, in middle school, I had been on 
our championship-winning swim team. It was in there that I 
first became aware of my fetish. 
	Our school was poor. They couldn't afford separate 
changing rooms for the swimmers, so we all had to change in 
the girl's bathroom. There weren't many boys on the team, 
so it didn't matter much. Anyway, being the horny young 
teen that I was, I naturally tried to sneak as many peaks 
of my female teammates as possible. They were wary of me, 
of course, and usually changed in the stalls. This is where 
my fetish bloomed, I think. You see, I was still able to 
see the girl's feet. I soon gave up trying to snatch a 
glance of a breast, ass, or vagina.
	I've seen thousands of bare female feet since then 
and to this day, I can truthfully say that the girls on my 
swim team had the most beautiful feet I'd ever seen. When I 
would masturbate, I wouldn't think about a fucking the 
brains out of the latest blonde bombshell, or getting a 
blowjob from the head cheerleader, I would think about 
those beautiful feet.
	I've only experienced my ultimate fantasy, a footjob, 
five times. None were as satisfying as they were in my 
dreams. It's hard convincing women to do it, and when they 
finally do it, it's a half-hearted attempt. "Come on, I'll 
just suck you off, baby," they would say. Not once have 
they let me come on their feet. It seemed that the women 
with the worst feet were always the most enthusiastic about 
	One girl, Cindy, had the best feet I had seen in 
years, second only to the girls on the swim team. I begged 
her to do it. She refused, saying it was "unclean." Yeah, 
but she had no problem with anal. Anyway, I was determined 
to fuck those wonderful feet. I woke up before her one 
morning, quietly got the baby oil from the bedside drawer, 
and slowly lubed her feet. She stirred; I paused, then 
lubed some more. When her feet were shining with oil, I 
grabbed her ankles and pressed her soles together on my 
throbbing cock (an impressive 8 inches erect, if I do say 
so myself.) I masturbated myself with her beautiful soft 
feet. I was in heaven. 
	She murmured slightly, and her eyes opened. Her face 
expressed pure hatred. She kicked her feet free of my grasp 
and drove her left heel right into my balls. I toppled to 
the floor. Without at word, she cleaned the oil from her 
feet and got dressed, putting on her high heels. She 
reached a sympathetic hand down, helped my back up. Then 
she nailed me right in the nuts again, and spit on the 
ground next to me. I can still feel that one. Anyway, I was 
*this* close to coming. I don't count that as one of the 
	When she came by later, to pick up her things, she 
wore flip-flops. She wiggled her cute little red-painted 
toes, just to taunt me. 
	I didn't bother going to college. I knew at the end 
of high school that I would be a lifeguard. I got my first 
job when I was 19, and I was in my late twenties when I 
became the head lifeguard out on Makinio Beach. The pay 
wasn't much but I helped people, which was more rewarding 
in a way. Plus, there are plenty of beautiful feet to look 
at. There's a lot of down time. 
	I dated a few of my fellow lifeguards. The last one, 
Kelly, had bigger tits than anything you'd see on 
"Baywatch." That didn't interest me much, of course. She 
gave me my most recent footjob. I managed to convince her 
on our second time in bed. We broke up soon after. She quit 
her job as a lifeguard, too. She was in last month's 
"Penthouse." Her feet were cropped out of every picture.
	Anyway, the most significant event of all my 
experiences as a lifeguard, of my life even, happened when 
I was 28. It was a hot summer, I remember, and the beach 
was packed.
It was near the end of my shift. I fidgeted in my 
seat, checked my watch, fidgeted some more. Suddenly, a fat 
woman in a red one-piece yelled, "My daughter is drowning! 
Someone save my daughter!" Sure enough, there was young 
girl, about twelve or thirteen I guessed, flapping her arms 
like a baby bird, trying to stay afloat. 
	I jumped out of my chair and hit the ground running. 
I blew my whistle and the swimmers cleared a way before me. 
I felt like Moses. I dived in the water and swam as fast as 
I could. I reached her in no time. She was unconscious when 
I arrived. I lifted her small body through the whole in the 
life preserver and pulled her ashore. People cheered. They 
usually did. My job wasn't done though.
	I laid her down on the sand, out of the reach of the 
tides. I pressed a finger to her wrist. She had a pulse. I 
put an ear to her mouth. She wasn't breathing. I started 
doing mouth-to-mouth. Nothing. I pushed on her on her 
chest, doing the oft-repeated motions of CPR. If I felt the 
desire, I could have easily copped a feel of her budding 
tit and no one would have been in a position to complain. I 
would be lying if I said the idea hadn't flashed through my 
perverted mind. I started mouth-to-mouth again. She coughed 
and I pulled my mouth away. She continued to cough, 
spitting up a few ounces of seawater.
	She slowly opened her eyes, then smiled. I grabbed 
her hand and pulled her up. My hand around her shoulder, I 
guided her back to her mother. 
	"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," the 
girl's ugly mother squealed, "you saved my daughter's 
	"Just doing my job," I said. That's was I always 
	The fat mother pulled her daughter up the hill to the 
parking lot, yelling "what did I tell you about waiting 
after you eat!?" The young girl turned around as she walked 
away and smiled at me. It was only then that I noticed her 
feet. I may be a pervert, but people's lives come before my 
	Anyway, the moment I saw her feet I couldn't look 
away. They were perfect, better than the swim team by a 
long shot. They were small, perfectly proportioned, pale 
peach things. Her toes were painted a beautiful light blue, 
my favorite color. I wouldn't be surprised if God Himself 
had crafted this angel's feet. When she had walked too far 
away, I looked down at the perfect footprint she left. I 
sighed. I was in love with the feet, and by association, 
the young girl attached to them.
	There is an interesting coincidence here that I would 
be foolish to not discuss. I was in love with this girl, 
for all intents and purposes, I was a pedophile. Now, in my 
earlier, more naive years, I thought that pedophile meant 
"foot-lover," "ped" as in "millipede." Thank goodness I was 
too shy about my fetish back then to say anything.
	Of course pedophile means "lover of children," "ped" 
as in "pediatrician." But with this girl, this little angel 
with perfect feet, it didn't matter what meaning I used.
	I continued to stare at the heavenly prints in the 
sand below me, until Jill, my second-in-command, walked up. 
She was clapping. "Well handled, boss," she giggled, her 
big boobs bouncing in her skimpy top, her nipples poking 
out obscenely, "I hate these kids who think they're Olympic 
swimmers. Anyway, it's closing time. Wanna go get something 
to drink?"
I looked around. The beach-goer were gathering their 
things, preparing to leave. Jill stepped closer, getting 
her boobs as close to me as possible. She'd been flirting 
with me for months, but it never went anywhere. She had 
terrible feet. "I'm tired," I said to her, "I think I'll 
call it a night." It was only 7:00 PM.
"Are you sure?" she asked. She pressed her boobs to my 
chest. I had to admit it felt good.
	For a moment, I wonder why I couldn't just be normal. 
Here was a girl who would do anything for me. I could fuck 
her tits, fuck her cunt, fuck her ass, come on her face, in 
her mouth, and she would beg for more. She would do 
anything for me, except fulfill my fantasy. 
	I stood there, and I felt her rub her nipples across 
my abs. "Maybe another time," I said. She sighed and her 
boobs jiggled. I gathered my things and left the beach. 
Tomorrow was my day off.
	As soon as I got home, I jumped into bed and pulled 
my cock out. I thought about the perfect feet I had seen 
today and began to masturbate. I would have given anything 
to seen her, and her feet, again. It occurred to me that I 
quite possibly would.
	Almost every person I had saved, too many to count 
now, had come to my house to thank me. Some bring cards, 
some bring food, most just say "thanks." 
Oh, and I remember now. One woman thanked me with 
sex. Please excuse me, reader, while I digress from my 
point to tell this anecdote. This story is too good to not 
commit to print.
	I had been a lifeguard for about 5 months when it 
happened. A bald, Italian, Sasquatch-looking man ran up to 
me and said his "woman" was unconscious. He said that she 
had been under the water for a good 3 minutes. He had 
dragged her back to land.
	I ran over to her as quick as I could. She looked to 
be in her early forties. She was fairly attractive, a bit 
chubby, and her feet were nice. She wore swimming glasses 
and a vertically striped swimsuit. I noticed all this in a 
split second as a knelt down before her and took her pulse. 
It was strong. She wasn't breathing though. 
	30 seconds of mouth-to-mouth and she began to cough. 
She hacked and spit up almost a quart of seawater. She 
opened her eyes and said, in a whiny voice, "my hero!"
	"Just doing my job," I said, pulling her to her feet.
	The hairy man grabbed her by the wrist and dragged 
her away, saying "You always do this to me, Audrey, you 
always embarrass me. This is why we don't go out anymore." 
She turned around and smiled widely at me. Her teeth were 
artificially white.

	The next day was a Sunday, my day off. The doorbell 
rang while I was eating lunch. I opened it. Before I said 
anything, Audrey stepped into my house.
	She wore a flowery dress and tennis shoes. She took 
at seat at my kitchen table. She didn't say anything for a 
while; she just looked around. After a long pause, she 
squealed, "nice place you got here!"
	"Is there something I can do for you?" I asked.
	"Of course, of course. I came by to thank you." She 
paused, and then added, "personally."
	"Mrs. Um, Mrs..."
	"You can call me Audrey."
	"Audrey, um, as I said I was just doing my job."
	"Yes! Of course!" she said. I don't think she was 
listening to me. "Listen," she whined, "where I come from, 
it's customary that if a man saves a woman's life, then 
that woman owes the man a, um, favor."
	I was tempted to ask where it was that she came from. 
She looked like she was part Greek, part Chinese, part 
	"So, what'll it be, big guy?" she asked.
	"Excuse me."
	"Here, sit down." She pulled out a chair for me. I 
sat. "How 'bout this, big guy?" she said. She grabbed the 
hem of her dress and lifted it up. She wore nothing 
underneath. She pulled the dress over her head and let it 
fall to the floor.
	Her tits were pretty big, as were her nipples. They 
sagged a little. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed.
	"So what'll it be?" she repeated. She stepped very 
close to me and began to rub her tits. "You want my pussy, 
or my ass?" She did a 360 to illustrate that, yes, she had 
a pussy and ass.
	"That really won't be necessary," I stammered.
	"Nonsense. Wait! I know what you want!" She didn't, 
of course. "You want me to go down on you!"
	"Um," I said.
	I decided that letting go was easier than fighting. 
Besides, I might end up enjoying it. She unzipped my pants 
and fished out my cock.
	"My! We are well endowed, aren't we?" she squealed.
	She grasped my shaft at the base with her right hand, 
clutched my balls with her left. She smiled up at me with 
those bleached teeth, then lowered her lips to the head of 
my dick. She stared up at me as she did it.
	She pursed her lips and kissed the crown. Her tongue 
teased the hole. She slurped up and down the shaft 
moistening it with her saliva. Her head descended lower and 
took one of my balls in her mouth, swirling it around with 
her tongue.
	She lifted her head again, opened her mouth as wide 
as she could, and took the head inside her wet opening. Her 
head lowered again, and I felt my dick slip effortlessly 
down her throat. Her head lifted, then lowered, the lifted 
again. She continued to bob her head, to hump my dick with 
her lips, all the while licking and drooling all over my 
	I had to admit it felt good. I closed my eyes and let 
my head fall back. I even put my hand on the back of her 
head, letting her know I appreciated it.
	Twice, she pulled my cock from her mouth, looked up 
at me and squealed, "everything good?" She sounded like a 
waitress at a trashy diner. I responded with a slow nod.
	She pulled my penis from her lips a third time. She 
began to ask me again, but before she pronounced the second 
syllable I pushed her head back down to my crotch. I 
couldn't help it. She didn't seem to mind.
	After a few minutes, I moaned that I was about to 
come. She lifted her head, keeping the head in her mouth, 
and began to jerk me off. She opened her lips wide so that 
I could see myself ejaculate. I didn't care too much about 
	I moaned loudly. The corners of her mouth curled up 
in a smile. I came hard, and her mouth filled quickly. She 
held my semen in her mouth, not swallowing, until I had 
finished. My come stream subsided and my cock began to 
	She looked straight at me, winked, and closed her 
lips. With a tremendous gulp, she swallowed my seed. It 
looked like her eyes were watering. She paused, and 
suddenly she grasped at her throat. She moaned, her eyes 
widening, then she fainted.
	My lifeguard instincts kicked in immediately. I 
crouched down before her, did the usual checks. Pulse, ok, 
breathing, negative. I pressed my lips to hers and began 
mouth to mouth. After a few seconds, I remembered that she 
had choked on my come. I slowed down my treatment, not 
wishing to tasting my own seed.
	I cough came from deep with in her throat. I propped 
her up and leaned her against the wall. She hacked and spit 
up almost a tablespoon of semen. It oozed out her mouth and 
ran down her chin. Her eyes flicked open and she stared at 
	"My, what thick sperm you have!" she said, 
nonchalantly, trying to sound like a porn star. She sounded 
more like my mother.
	I handed her a napkin and she wiped my come from her 
	"That the second time you saved my life," she said. 
"How about just a hand job this time?" She quickly grasped 
my limp dick and started to stroke it like it was a wounded 
	I pried her fingers from my shaft and said, "That'll 
be quite alright, Mrs. Um. Audrey. You've done enough."
	"But my culture dictates..."
	"Yeah, well, you can just bake me some brownies or 
	I reached and hand down and lifted her to her feet. I 
handed her dress to her. She let it fall back over her 
naked body.
	It was nice but I was thankful it was over.
	Suddenly, a loud car horn honked outside my door.
	"That must be Harvey," Audrey exclaimed, running to 
the door. I followed her. Outside was the man from the 
beach, leaning against a red Cadillac.
	"You done?" he asked Audrey.
	"What did you guys do?"
	"Well, Harvey, I gave him the oral sex."
	"Ha!" he said, now looking at me, "you missed out 
man. Audrey here ain't much, but she's got one sew-eeet 
pussy! You a homo or something?" He lifted her dress and 
pointed it out to me.
	"Harvey! Stop!" Audrey giggled and fixed her dress.
	"A blowjob! Jeez! Ha! All the more pussy for me 
	I suspect that if I had asked Audrey for a footjob, 
Harvey would have beaten the crap out of me.
	"Hurry up, Audrey! We got reservations at Giorgio's 
at 2."
	"Okay, Harvey!" She jumped into the passenger seat. 
"Thanks for everything!"
"...and after dinner Audrey...after dinner I am gonna 
fuck you so hard!"
"Oh Harvey!" She snuggled up against him, kissed him 
on the cheek.
"See ya later, homo!" He drove off.
	I was in no way expecting anything like that to 
happen with the young girl from the beach. She might be 
over tomorrow, but only to bring me brownies or a card or 
something. Her mom would probably be with her.
	I went to sleep rubbing my cock, thinking about those 
young feet.
	I woke up to the sound of the doorbell ringing. I 
checked the clock. It was 11.
	I put on a robe and walked to the door. I opened it.
	There she was, the girl of my dreams. 
Her face was made up; she wore dark lipstick and 
blush. I scanned down her body, hoping she would notice. 
She wore a tight white tank top, which accentuated her 
budding breasts. I think her nipples poked out a little. 
Her top stopped well before her skirt, exposing her 
wonderful light peach midriff. Her skirt stopped well 
before her knees and her creamy white legs seemed to go on 
for miles.
Finally, I came to her feet. She wore flips-flops, oh 
God, she wore flip-flops. Her toes were painted the same 
light blue as before.
I stood there dumbfounded, just staring at her feet.
"Hello," she said, grabbing my attention. "Remember 
"Of course," I managed to sputter out.
"From the beach, you saved my life. Anyway. I brought 
you some cookies." She held up a plate of chocolate chip 
cookies. I had somehow missed them in my scan of her body.
Now was my chance, I thought. I coughed and muttered, 
"you wanna, um, come in and have some with me?"
	She looked around the inside of my house. She took 
one step inside and said, "sure!"
	She kicked off her flip-flops, oh God, she kicked off 
her flips-flops. She walked towards the kitchen. Her bare 
feet produced the cutest little sounds on my tile floor. I 
walked behind her in a trance.
	She placed the plate on the table, and sat down. She 
put her feet up on the table too. I almost came right there 
and then.
	"Um. I'll get some...uh...milk."
	I poured milk into two big glasses. I looked back at 
her, and spilled some milk on myself. Good thing my robe 
was white. I took the glasses over to the table and sat 
down across from her. She grabbed one, and crammed a few 
cookies in her mouth. I took one cookie and nibbled it. I 
didn't really need the cookies. Her feet were enough.
	She finished the last of her milk in one big gulp, 
then she looked right at me. "I walked all the way here 
myself," she said.
	"Um," I said.
	"It was a long walk."
	"My feet ache."
	My penis bulged against my boxer shorts. I thought, 
"I wonder where this is going." All I said was, "Um."
	"Could you give me a foot massage?"
	I felt the precome soak my underpants. I stuttered 
like a fool, but managed to blurt out "sure."
	She dragged her chair out so that it was right in 
front of me. She kicked her legs up, and her heels landed 
inches from by crotch.
	I reached out slowly, scared that if I touched her, 
she might disappear. My fingertips grazed her soles and she 
giggled. I sighed, and grabbed her left foot with both 
	The muscles were very tight. I rubbed her aches away 
with my thumbs. She groaned a very sexy groan, and moaned, 
"That feels good."
	I continued to caress her foot. Suddenly she giggled 
and pulled her foot from my grasp. She lifted her leg and 
pressed her big toes to my lips. Her foot smelled like 
strawberries. I looked at her. She smiled and nodded.
	I opened my mouth and took her big toe inside. I 
sucked and nibbled away at it. I grabbed her foot again, 
released her toe. I lifted her foot and kissed her heel, 
then licked my way back up to her toes. I sucked on each 
one for a few seconds.
	I looked up. I could see right up her skirt. Her 
panties were soaked. I looked at the girl. She was smiling 
widely and her eyes were closed. Her head lolled around. 
She looked like she was enjoying it.
	Suddenly, she opened her eyes.
	"Stand up," she commanded.
	I stood.
	With amazing dexterity, she untied the belt of my 
robe with her toes. She lifted her feet and pushed the robe 
off my shoulders. It fell to the floor. I was so anxious 
that I couldn't breath.
	She took the elastic of my boxers between her big 
toes and pulled down. My cock sprang free. It glistened 
with precome. She gasped.
	She composed herself, then brought her left foot up 
to my face. "Spit," she said. I spat on her sole. She 
rubbed her soles together getting them nice and wet.
	I moaned as I first felt her toes on my shaft. She 
started out by pressing her soles together around my cock 
in the usual position for a footjob. She moved her feet up 
and down, masturbating me with her feet. She giggled and 
removed her feet. I exhaled for the first time in minutes.
	With her right foot, she pressed my cock against my 
stomach. She moved it up and down. With her left foot, she 
tenderly caressed my balls. Her soft digits rubbed my sac. 
She ran her small, supple toes through my pubic hair.
	It seemed like her ministrations went on for hours 
and at the same time, was over in an instant.
	I felt my balls swell. An orgasm overtook me. It was 
the best orgasm I had ever had. I moaned loudly. The girl 
put her left foot in front of my dick-hole and continues to 
caress my cock.
	I came harder than I ever came before. My jizz 
splashed against her sole and ran down her heel. She moved 
her foot down so that the next shot landed on her sweet 
toes. My cock started to soften, but the come still came. 
My orgasm subsided.
	I looked at her foot. Every inch of it was covered 
with my seed. She saw this too. All she said was, "wow."
	She grabbed her ankle and lifted her foot to her 
mouth. I watch silently for five minutes as she licked my 
hot sperm from her foot. She stuck each toes in her mouth, 
sucked the come away. When she was done, she smacked her 
lips and smiled at me. My cock was hard again.
	 She walked towards the door, put her flip-flops back 
on and smiled at me. "You should save my life again 
sometime," she said. Then she left. I sighed.
	Then I woke up.
	My cock had come loose from my boxers. It was 
standing at attention. It glistened with precome. I began 
to stroke myself thinking about that wonderful dream. I 
suddenly realized that my dream was a perfect reenacting of 
a porn movie I own, Fabulous Foot Fucks: Volume 1.
	The story behind this tape is interesting. I hadn't 
bought it myself. I'm too shy to buy porn. Cindy, the girl 
whose feet I raped, sent it to me a few months after we 
broke up, on my birthday. It came with a note, which said:

Happy Birthday,
P.S. No hard feelings.

	She sent me the rest of the collection by and by. One 
a birthday, for five years. They were in a shoebox under my 
	The doorbell rang. I put on my robe. I opened the 
door, and who should it be but the little girl of my 
dreams. Everything was different now, though. First, it was 
raining outside. She was wearing a raincoat, baggy jeans, 
and rubber boots, two sizes to big. Her bicycle was propped 
up against my mailbox. I gathered that she hadn't walked.
	It was never the same as it was in my dreams.
	"Hello," she said. She seemed nervous. She held up a 
plastic bag. "I brought you a gift. To thank you. For 
saving me."
	"Let me guess. Chocolate-chip cookies?"
	"Peanut butter." Never the same. "You must get these 
kinda things a lot."
	I nodded, the said, "would you like to come in and 
have some?" I expected her to say no.
	Maybe, just maybe things would turn out different, I 
	She walked inside, making no attempt to remove her 
muddy boots. She left dirty footprints on my kitchen floor. 
She sat at the table. I pour two glasses of milk.
	We dined on cookies. They were very good, just like 
mom used to make. I watched her closely as she ate. She 
drank the last of her milk and put the glass down. She had 
a milk mustache.
	"You got a little, um..." I pointed at her face.
	"Oh," she said. She licked her lips with a small, 
pink tongue. I thought dully that she might give me a nice 
blowjob in lieu of what I really wanted.
	She placed her glass in the sink, then walked over to 
me. I inhaled and held my breath. She leaned down and 
kissed me on the cheek. I came in my boxers. "Thanks," she 
	She left without another word.
	I ate lunch, then pulled a shoebox out from under my 
bed. I took out Fabulous Foot Fucks: Volume 1 and popped it 
into the VCR. I fast-forwarded through the opening 
dialogue, stopping when the man, a fat ugly man, started to 
lick the beautiful girl's feet. She looked about nineteen 
and was heavily made-up.
	I stroked myself, and stroked myself some more. Try 
as I might, my penis would stiffen. In fact, I didn't feel 
horny at all. I felt empty. I press the stop button right 
as the man was about to come.
	You might be wondering about my own feet. Well, I 
think they're fine, a little hairy perhaps.
	When I was just starting out as a lifeguard I started 
going out with Cheryl. One our first date, the conversation 
somehow turned toward fetishes. I was a little drunk and 
blurted out that I loved women's feet. She gasped and told 
me that she had a foot fetish too. We showed each other our 
bare feet right there in the restaurant. She said mine 
were, and this is a direct quote now, "the epitome of male 
	We had sex that very night. Well, not sex in any 
conventional manner. We had foot sex. We rubbed feet, 
licked feet, sucked toes. She caressed my shaft with her 
soles. I stuck one big toe inside her pussy; I rubbed her 
clit with the other. We had simultaneous orgasms.
	We got engaged only a week later. We had sex every 
	One day, I came back from work and she had left me a 
note. It said that she was sorry but that she had found 
someone new.
	I was invited to her wedding a few months later. It 
was on a farm in Michigan. The groom was a short, fat 
Samoan man. They both wore sandals, even though it was 
twenty degrees outside. I didn't get a good look at his 
	I went to work the next day. It was almost empty. 
Summer was ending. I think I may have even dozed off a few 
	With half an hour left in my shift, I put up the "No 
lifeguard on duty. Swim at your own risk" sign and left for 
the lifeguard house.
	Jill was there. Just the girl I wanted to see. She 
had just showered. She was wrapped in a towel. She looked 
	"Jill, would you like to have dinner with me 
	She smiled the biggest smile I had ever seen in my 
life. I think her eyes may even have been watering. She 
composed herself.
	"Yeah," she said, trying to be nonchalant, "sure."
	"Great. I'll pick you up at seven."
	I pulled around the corner and there she was. She 
wore the lowest cut dress I had ever seen. Her cleavage was 
tremendous. Jill was not a subtle woman.
	We went to dinner. We talked, but I don't remember 
what about. She drank glass after glass of wine. I drank 
water. She was very tipsy by the end of the meal.
	"Do you know," she said, touching a finger to my 
nose," that I've always had the biggest crush on you?"
	"I had an inkling."
	She giggled. "Let's go back to my place." She smiled.
	I paid the bill and guided Jill to the car. She 
kissed my neck all the way home.
	I will not go into the details of that night. This 
story is getting pretty long. Besides, the sex was the best 
kind: boring to hear about, extremely fulfilling for those 
involved. Suffice it to say we kissed for a while, I 
inserted my penis into her vagina, we made love in the 
missionary position. Bush league stuff, very boring to 
read. It was, however, the best sex I ever had. Her vagina 
had been felt warm, had felt soft, had felt moist, but most 
of all, it felt *right*.
	 We lay in her bed, post-coitus. My left arm was 
around her shoulder. I slowly caressed her breast with my 
left hand.
	"That," Jill whispered very loudly, "was the best sex 
I ever had."
	I nodded in agreement.
We lay there for a while. I felt her hand on mine. 
Then she spoke up.
"Do you know what the first thing I noticed when I 
met you for the first time?"
"Your hands."
"Your hands...are perfect."
She unwrapped my arm from her shoulder, grasped my 
left hand in hers. She held both our hands up, pressed the 
palms together. Hers were three-fourths the size of mine. 
Without another word she began to lick my fingers, to suck 
and nibble on my digits. It felt nice. She licked my hand 
all over.
She held my index finger tightly and slid the tip 
down her body. She touched each of her nipples with my 
finger, touched her flat stomach. She poked it into her 
belly button. Finally, she brought my hand down to the 
dripping wetness between her legs.
"Please touch me," she whispered.
I touched her.
"It's always been my fetish," she whispered.
	Jill and I got married a few months later. I quit my 
job as head lifeguard. Jill took over. I'm studying to be a 
paramedic. On Jill's advice I've done some work as a hand 
model. I earn more than I did as a lifeguard many times 
	We've been married for two years. We still have an 
active sex life, a *very* active sex life. We do it almost 
every night. I've gotten so good at touching her that I can 
make her orgasm by rubbing her anywhere. I kid you not. In 
all two years of our marriage, I think I've only penetrated 
her a dozen times.
	We made love no less than half an hour ago. Jill went 
down on me. She gives *great* head. I simply rubbed the 
back of her neck. She came first and her moans and coos 
brought me off quickly.
	As I write this she sleeps beside me, her tremendous 
breasts pressed against my side. She snores like a kitten. 
God love her, she's given me an erection. I don't want to 
wake her. I grab her wrist and wrap her limp fingers around 
my shaft. I masturbate myself with her hand. She stirs and 
	"Sorry, honey."
	"Don't worry about it. Oh, what have we here?" I 
remove my hand. She brings me off all by herself, and it 
feels wonderful. She gathers my come in her hand, licks it 
up, and giggles.
	"How's the story coming?" she asks.
	"I think I'm almost done," I say.
	She puts her hand on my chest, rubs my pecks. She 
yawns. Her eyes drift shut, and she falls asleep again.
	I think I'm almost done with this story. I think this 
is the last paragraph. As my eyes slowly close I look down 
at the end of the bed. Jill's ugly feet stick out. Her toes 
are painted an especially unpleasant shade of purple. But I 
don't care anymore.