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By Anonymous

"There are times when you have to turn off your mind and think with your balls," Michael thought idly.
Eight years of blissful, loyal marriage had not stymied his vivid fantasies of making love to other women. Even the joys and rigors of parenthood had not dampened his intense imagination. He had gone through phases where he actually thought about other women while making love to his wife. In spite of his fantasies, he still had deep feelings of personal contentment as well as pride in the fact that he had never even touched another woman in the ten years since he met his wife.
"Enjoy your meal sir."
The turbaned waiter who slipped a menu on his dish interrupted Michael's introspective reverie. Sitting in the Indian restaurant browsing the Tandori dishes on the twelve-page menu, he couldn't help stealing glances at his soon-to-be sister-in-law. She was without question one of the best-looking women he had ever seen. She noticed his peeking over his menu and smiled playfully at him.
A fashion model-turned stewardess, Karen had received a lot of attention from many different men in her 22 years. She had exquisite, long legs, a near perfect figure, large, wide-set, dark eyes, and short well-kept black hair. It was her grace, posture and grooming, however, that set her apart from most other girls. Tonight she was wearing a stunning black evening dress, a bit too much makeup and some gaudy sparkling jewelry.
Michael's in-laws were celebrating Karen's engagement to Marshal. Marshal was Michael's body-builder brother-in- law, the obnoxious younger brother of Michael's wife. Somehow the seating arrangement had placed Karen opposite Michael at the foot of the table against the wall. It's interesting how such random circumstances can sometimes lead to high adventure.
Michael shifted positions in his chair to concentrate on the menu. His foot accidentally touched Karen's under the table and he looked at her with a startled, embarrassed expression. Her eyes twinkled, and a faint smirking smile crossed her mouth but she didn't meet his apologetic gaze. Her legs were extended and her feet remained in harm's way under his chair. When the appetizers arrived, Michael turned to feed his two-year-old son. Again his foot brushed Karen's. Again she ignored his startled glance.
The dinner went on with good food, and even better conversation. The wine flowed, and the lights dimmed. They were all having a great time, and Michael began to enjoy the occasional touches that kept 'happening' under the table with Karen. She kept ignoring his glances when they occurred, but then picked up the conversation just after a contact, and seemed to be very interested in anything he had to say.
Michael had drunk more that his share of wine, and his wife had pointed this out to him, to his annoyance. Karen bad just about kept up with him glass for glass, and was rubbing his shin with her foot in an unconscious way as they discussed the earth-shaking event of the day.
In a fit of blind, drunken betrayal to his ten years of fidelity, Michael carefully took off his shoes and put one stockinged foot on Karen's instep.
Without hesitation, she took another fork full of salad and continued her cheerful conversation with her fianc‚e. Her feet remained squarely parked under Michael's chair.
Michael timidly put his other foot on Karen's, hesitated a few seconds, then slowly and carefully, with both his feet, removed her shoe. He manipulated her foot up onto his own chair then slowly and gingerly slipped his right foot along her left leg, up under her dress to her thigh. It was only then that he noticed she was wearing stockings and garters instead of panty hose.
His foot hesitated several seconds on her bare thigh. Her demeanor, conversation, and outward appearance betrayed nothing of their little "footsies" game under the table. Michael, on the other hand became quite pale. His heart was pounding and he had a very hard erection.
"Oh my god!" he gasped to himself. "This can't be happening to me!!"
Then Karen took the initiative. She put her left foot squarely on his erect penis and simultaneously slipped forward in her chair, maneuvering her vagina under Michael's foot. Michael quickly moved the tablecloth to cover his lap.
Karen began stroking his penis, sliding her foot up and down in his lap. Michael burrowed his foot between Karen's legs and began manipulating his toe in an area he hoped contained her clitoris. She helped him find her hot spot with slight movements of her thighs and pelvis.
They sat stroking each other's genitals, while outwardly ignoring each other for several minutes.
As the dinner progressed, Karen became more aroused. Michael noticed her cheeks flush and saw her occasionally inhale sharply. Her foot on his penis became sloppy. Soon she stopped stroking his crotch entirely and pushed herself harder against each stroke of his foot. His foot manipulations and her pelvic movements merged into an almost coital rhythm.
Michael was afraid her increasingly strenuous movements were going to give them away, but his hypnotic fascination by her intense beauty and blind, hot sexual arousal made him continue manipulating his foot in her lap.
Karen started shivering and lost the rhythm of their mutual masturbation. She held her breath for a few seconds, then sighed softly once, twice, and again. During her final heavy sigh, she shuddered deliriously and relaxed her legs completely.
Then she started chewing her food again, gave an appreciative, loving glance at Michael, and began manipulating his penis through the material of his pants in earnest. She could feel his erection and began to massage him with both of her feet. Back and forth, up and down, manipulating his hard-on, and all the time smiling at him with a sparkle in her eyes.
Now his pleasure had her full attention, and she seemed to know a lot about how to please a man. She alternated between massaging the head of his cock with her toes and stroking the entire length of his penis down to the root with the ball of her foot. She applied just the right amount of pressure. Michael started smiling, caught himself, and made small talk with his two-year-old son.
Karen slowly increased the pressure and tempo of her movements and Michael knew he was going to come in his pants. He slipped his cloth napkin into his lap, and nonchalantly - undercover of the napkin - opened the fly of his slacks, reaching down and pulling his engorged penis out around from the elastic leg band of his underwear, all the time looking interested in the general conversation.
Karen's eyes widened as she felt his hot pre-come slicked bare flesh against the soles of her nylon stockinged feet. At the same time his left hand stroked Karen's calf gently and lovingly, trying to put love and gratitude into the smile he flashed at her.
Karen settled into a steady rhythm, stroking the length of Michael's shaft with the entire sole of her foot. She glanced at his face every few minutes to gauge how she was doing.
Finally, Michael could not hold back any longer. Turning his head away from the others, so they wouldn't see the contortions of the consuming pleasure playing across his face, he shot his load into the napkin in five unbearably intense strokes. Karen felt the semen flowing through Michael's hard, hot penis and broke into a faster, harder pumping action with her foot.
His sperm had messed his pants and Karen's nylons Michael was sure that everyone could smell his seaman, knew that the must -- but only Karen seemed interested in what had just happened to him.
In spite of all the bizarre circumstances, it was one of the most intense orgasms Michael ever had. As the last after-shocks washed through him, Karen reduced the pressure, speed, and intensity of her foot manipulations, softly milking the last drops of semen from Michael's still-erect cock.
Michael again put his hand under the table and stroked her calf appreciatively, then manipulated her foot back into her shoe.
Two months later, Michael learned that Marshal had broken off his engagement. Michael never learned the exact details or reasons and never saw Karen again.