This week, the first week in August, has been just blazing hot, pushing 100°, (37° C), almost for 9 days so far. Here in NJ anything above about 85F is uncomfortable this time of year because the humidity is usually above 90% as well, so it was just miserable and everyone was irritable.
Tuesday morning (yesterday as I write this) was no different and I was soaked by the time I got on the train. Tracy wasn’t in much better shape when I found her scowling in one of the back seats. With a look like that on her face it was no surprise that nobody tried sit next to her..Even though the AC was on it couldn’t keep up with the heat. She had on white stockings with her brown boots, a very short skirt (which she’s making me mention because her legs looked amazing), and a somewhat skimpy tank top. I could see small patches where she had sweat through them behind her knees when she stood up to slide into the window seat.
“Why are you wearing stockings today? If there was ever a time to take to option of going bare legged, this is it. If I had the choice I’ll be wearing shorts right now.”
She agreed, but was very curt. “I know, I just prefer wearing something over my legs”
“That fine with me” I said. “You know how I feel about stockings so I’ll never argue if you want to wear them, not that I have any right to have a say in it. But don’t let the heat get to you so much, you look like you’re about to kill someone.”
She gave me an angry glare and then just deflated, her appearance changing from a mug shot to a kid who dropped her ice cream in a matter of seconds. “It’s not that. My parents decided that it’s too expensive to stay here and are going to move to North Carolina. They’re putting the house on the market next week”
“Oh man, that sucks. I’m so sorry.”
She thanked me, and then went on to explain that her folks had her in their early forties so we’re older and already retired. Although they accepted that she’s gay, they never really accepted it as part of their lives, pretty much just saw it as how she lived when she was out on her own. Needless to say, her relationship with them was strained. It’s not that they fought about anything, they just swept everything under the rug and hardly ever talked. She would sometimes go four or five days without even seeing them, even though they lived in the same house. I felt really bad for her, I had no idea.
She thanked me for being a good listener when we got to the city and we said our goodbyes for the day.
Late afternoon I got my first ever text from Tracy, just saying “can you wait at the station, I need a drink”.
Of course I would wait for her.
So after work I sat at the train station bar with a beer until she showed up. I started to order a Cosmo, but she wanted a cold beer. She had istanbul travesti a really bad day at work, the mess with her parents house was grating on her, and was in a rotten mood. The Hoboken train station is open air, so there’s no air conditioning except in a small lobby. There’s a long covered walkway with stores and the lobby on one side, the other has the train platforms running out from it and is open to the elements. The bar is at the end of the platform and has big, shutter style windows that are opened for circulation when needed, but they just don’t help in weather like this. We hung out there, sweating while she unloaded about her day, had a couple of drinks, and got on a later train. Tracy had calmed down a bit and even started to joke around
“Good thing for you it’s Tuesday and not Wednesday, huh?”
I knew what she meant, and could almost hear the grin on her face as she said it, but tried to play dumb and just said “huh?”
She laughed and gave me a shove, saying “like you haven’t thought about it with this heat.”
I just shrugged and grinned at her a little. She didn’t say anything for a while, then gave me an evil smirk and said “Sooo… since the customer is always right, and since I’m your only customer, I think you should accept special appointments on Tuesdays”.
My breath caught in my chest, but I managed to tell her that it’s open whenever she needs it.
Tracy gave a quick nod and stared at me for a minute with a victorious look on her face, then started laughing. “Oh… if you could see the look on your face! My feet are so wet they’re swishing around in my boots, I don’t think even you would want to be near them.”
Of course I did, well probably. The thought of the smell burning my nose that one time she had her boots on for a long day flashed into my mind, and that was in the spring when it was a lot cooler. I was torn, being both concerned and excited about the state her feet would be in after a day this hot in those boots. I was totally flustered and couldn’t come up with a smart ass answer, so I just mumbled “it would definitely be challenging” and a weak laugh. Tracy burst out laughing at my discomfort and told me that it was so much fun teasing me.
My head was still swimming a few minutes later when we pulled into my station. She had changed the subject and was saying something about work. I really don’t know what she was going on about, but I had the feeling she was just babbling because she knew I was distracted. I got up as the train was slowing down, glanced at Tracy and mumbled something along the lines of “see you tomorrow”. I was a little shaky and just wanted to get off the train without the bulge in my pants being noticed, but the strap was snagged on the seat. I reached back to istanbul travestileri get it free, that’s when I felt Tracy’s hand holding it.
I stopped breathing for a second and turned my head to see her grinning up at me, and then she said “What, not up for the challenge?”
My insides turned to jello and I felt my chest shaking, and said “I am if you are.”
She looked surprised, and I thought that maybe I had called her out on a bluff, but then she said “great!” and popped off the train with her pony tail bouncing in front of me.
The drive to my house was only a few miles, but it seemed to take forever. I was a mess of worry, anxiousness, and excitement, and would have been sweating even if it was below freezing. Tracy didn’t help at all. She knew she was driving me mad so talked about her day at work, mixing in how hot and wet her feet were, just really pouring it on just to watch me squirm. We got inside, made a couple of drinks, and she started making small talk, basically dragging out my discomfort for as long as she could. Finally she said “so, about that massage…”
I was relieved that the tension was over and sat on the floor in the usual spot between the couch and the coffee table. She stood next to me looking around; close enough that her boots were touching my legs and I could feel the heat coming off her legs. I forced myself to ignore the visions of my face being squeezed between her white nylon covered thighs from my mind. I asked what she was looking for, and she said she was hoping to find a little bit of wallspace that I could sit against.
Tracy explained that she couldn’t get any leverage when I was sitting on the floor, she wanted something I could rest my head against so she could push on my face like she did in the car. My house had a big open floor plan with floor to ceiling windows on two sides of the living room, leaving very little open wallspace. I took my chances and lay down between the couch and coffee table with the top of my head just her feet, staring up at her legs stretching up above me and her smiling face looking down. “How about like this? You can push as hard as you want”
I thought I heard a little excitement in her voice when she answered “Ooh, that’s perfect!”
She then hopped onto the couch and dropped her booted feet on my chest. I don’t know if I could really smell her feet through her boots or if it was my imagination, but I was loving every second of it. My attention was brought back when I felt Tracy tapping her right foot on my chest. I looked up and she was staring at me.
“I know you said you don’t mind my boot on your chest, but are you going to take them off or just lay there?”
In my excited daze I must have taken too long to answer, because she pulled travesti istanbul them off and dropped both feet across my face, one on my mouth and one across my eyes. The smell instantly filled my nose and made tears come to my eyes. It took a few seconds for me to realize that my face felt wet, and that it was because the stockings on her feet were actually wet. More than just damp… literally wet. Like if she had spilled a shot glass of water in her boots, but from the smell I knew that this definitely was not water. I involuntarily squirmed and arched my back.
Tracy lifted her feet, giggled, asked “too much?” and without waiting put them right back on my face. In that brief instance before they pushed back down I saw that the bottoms of her feet were wet enough for me to see the pink of her skin through the white nylon stretched across them.
I could feel her legs bouncing a little as she laughed to herself, and she asked if I was going to start rubbing or if she had to do her own cheekbone massage. I must have again not answered fast enough because she shifted enough to put her feet on either side of my face, heels on my mouth and my nose between her arches. I was still in shock from the intensity of the smell and the fact that her stockings were soaked through with sweat when I felt her push her feet into my face and start rubbing them, saying “ok, I guess it’s self serve.”
I don’t know how long she kept that up. It felt like forever but may have only been a few minutes.The smell, the feeling of her wet stockings grinding on my face, the realization that my face was probably getting coated in her foot sweat, everything just overwhelmed me and I zoned out in a state of total bliss. If she wanted to do this for an hour, a day, a week, forever… I would have gladly lay there and let her.
The cool, fresh air shocked me out of my daze when she lifted her feet again and asked if I was still alive. The only thing I could say was “holy crap!” She asked if that meant that I wanted more, and I basically yelled out “hell yes!”.
She giggled and pushed her feet back onto my face, a little harder this time, and I could feel that she was trying to work out some sore spots by using my chin, forehead, and cheekbones. I was instantly right back in my state of bliss.
“Too hard?”
It took a minute for me to realize that she was asking a question, and all I could say was “huh, what?”
Tracy found that hysterical, and when she stopped laughing said “You’ve been kind of squirming and gasping the whole time but you just stopped. Am I pushing too hard?”
I told her absolutely not, that I was just in ecstasy and she could press as hard as she wanted. She smiled and plopped her feet back down, resuming her self service massage. A little while later she stopped rubbing her feet and pushed down a little, saying “as hard as I want?” I just mumbled “mhmm”, not wanting to be broken out of my state of bliss again.
Through my haze I heard Tracy say “great!”, and felt the pressure on my face quickly increase a tremendous amount.
To be continued…