Pedicure Therapy

If you are a male then you need to keep reading this paragraph. Females can skip to the next one since they already know what I am about to divulge. There is a well-kept secret that men should be aware of; it is called a nail salon. A visit to one of these establishments can change your life. If you ask a man if he has ever had a pedicure he will most likely either not know what one is or he will say that they are for women. The truth you need to discover is that they are for any living being with feet. The following story is my personal testament to just how much of an impact a pedicure can have on your life.

Every two weeks my wife Eileen goes to a nail salon to have a manicure and a pedicure. She does this as fervently and religiously as a devout Muslim makes pilgrimage to Mecca. She has been doing this for as long as I have known her and unless some catastrophe precluded her going, she never missed her appointment.

We had joined a gym to stay more active and my usual shoes for exercising were in the washing machine when I was looking for them to go work out. I found an old pair in a closet and wore them to the gym. During my exercises I began to feel a pain in my big toe but ignored it and continued my full hour routine. When I got back to the house and removed my shoes and socks my big toenail was extremely discolored and bruised. Eileen saw it and examined it closely.

"I'm not surprised. Your toenails are in terrible shape. They are too long, a couple of them are ingrown and your big one may need medical attention."

"So much for getting healthy at the gym." I muttered dejectedly.

"Don't blame the gym for your lack of care for your feet. You need to do two things: get a good pair of shoes to work out in and come with me to the nail salon and see if one of the technicians can do something with your damaged toenail."

The following day I accompanied my wife to her biweekly nail appointment like a recalcitrant schoolboy being taken to the principal's office. Eileen informed the receptionist that she had brought me along to have a pedicure. I was uncomfortable being in this female sanctuary and received a few stares from the other patrons that were clearly meant to convey their resentment of my presence. The staff however made me feel welcome and guided me to a large chair with a basin attached to the front.

I took a seat next to the one Eileen was in and was immediately flustered by what to do with my feet since I still had my shoes on and obviously couldn't put them into the basin, which was now filling with water. I was saved by the arrival of my technician. When I looked up to see her I was immediately astonished by this angel that had suddenly appeared in my view.

She was not much more than five feet tall with a perfect body. I had never seen such a harmony of body parts on anybody, male or female. She had long jet-black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her face was pretty but not what I would call classically beautiful. I probably thought this because I had a western conception of what a beautiful woman looks like and she was clearly Asian. In addition, I had a dismal history with short women. It wasn't a prejudice but an accurate evaluation of all the women I had known both intimately and socially. Short women and I never seemed to get along. The cutoff point was about five-six. I'm six feet two inches tall so that may have something to do with it.

It was obvious that I was completely absorbed in ogling her. She knew this of course and was dressed precisely to elicit this reaction. She was fully covered but her body could not have been more provocatively displayed. A blue skintight boat-neck t-shirt showed enough cleavage to demand attention. The straps of a lacy black bra showed ever so slightly when she bent over. Her hips and legs were covered in white leggings that left nothing to the imagination. Her pussy and ass were detailed so clearly under the sheer fabric that they became more erotic than if she were naked. I saw no evidence of panties. Her dainty feet were enclosed in little black Chinese slippers.

Women seem to have a built in digital timer that goes off at the exact second when they decide that you have spent enough time staring at their charms. Thank god for this, otherwise I would have begun to drool. She knelt beside the chair as smoothly as a gymnast and picked up my left foot.

"Please sir, allow me to remove your shoes."

Allow her? I would have begged for her touch anywhere on my body. Even through my sock I felt an electrical current making my ankle warm where she held it. She gently and efficiently removed my shoe then slowly pulled my sock down starting at the top. I swear she used her fingers to caress my lower calf in a way that left no misunderstanding that those fingers could do the same to more intimate parts of me. She carefully placed my shoe next to the chair and folded my sock to put inside it. My heart leapt for joy when I remembered that I had another foot.

When she had undressed my feet she then returned her hands to my ankle and began slowly sliding my pants leg up my calf. When she got to my knee she rolled the material up so it would stay in place above my knee. I don't know if it was wishful thinking or not but I got the distinct impression that those hands would have been very willing to slide much further up my leg. She then returned her hands to my ankle and picked up my foot to move it to the water in the basin. Then she repeated the procedure with my other leg.

She had been looking at my lower extremities the entire time but when both of them were submerged in the water she looked up at me and asked, "How is the water?"

I managed to stammer out "Fine" in a choking voice.

She then stood and walked away with my eyes locked on her gorgeous ass. A moment later she returned with a case full of bottles and assorted tools and a small stool, which she placed close to the basin. She then sat down on the stool with her legs spread wide and I knew where my eyes would be for the remainder of my pedicure. She picked up a small towel and placed it on the curved edge of the basin before reaching into the water to retrieve my right foot and putting my heel on the towel. She quickly evaluated my nails and announced, "Your toes are in dire need of my attention. When was the last time you had a pedicure?"

Before I could answer, Eileen, who I had completely forgotten about, said, "It's his first time but it won't be his last." She couldn't have been more right about that. Eileen then asked, "What is your name?"

The young woman said it was Judy.

"What is your Vietnamese name?"

Judy replied "Hunni, pronounced like the English word honey."

"That's a beautiful name. I hope you won't mind if we call you Hunni?"

"If it pleases you, I do not mind."

I finally spoke up and said, "Well it pleases me. So far you have been as sweet as your name and it suits you perfectly."

Eileen then said, "Hunni, this is my husband George. See what you can do with those toes even if you have to cut a couple of them off. He deserves it for neglecting them for so long."

Hunni looked at her and said, "I don't think such an extreme measure will be necessary if he will allow me to care for them on a regular basis. The damaged toe will need a long time to completely recover but I am sure I can restore it to health."

Her words were music to my ears. I wondered if I could get away with coming here every day. My musing on that thought was interrupted by Hunni asking me what kind of pedicure I wanted. My mind went blank. Eileen knew I would take several minutes to figure this out and said, "Deluxe." With that issue settled Hunni began to work on my feet.

Her first task was to wash my foot with a liquid soap applied with a small brush that had very soft bristles. This treatment introduced me to an entirely new concept of joy. My whole body relaxed and tingled as she delicately moved the brush over my foot. I wanted to close my eyes and lean my head back to bask in the sheer pleasure she was providing me.

The reason I didn't was the position of her upper body bent slightly over, affording me the glorious sight of her soft, supple, perfectly shaped breasts jiggling in synchronization with the movements of her amazing hands. You can try to imagine how intensely erection inducing this vision was if it could distract me from my hypnotic fixation with her pussy. It was truly almost impossible to differentiate the sensations she was producing in my brain from those of receiving a hand job. I wondered if I was going to make it through the entire pedicure without cumming in my pants.

My concern about unintended ejaculation increased when I remembered that everything she did to me was going to happen twice. When she was satisfied that my right foot was sufficiently clean she wrapped her hand under my heel and lowered it back into the warm water. Then lavished the same wonderful attention on my left foot. Each time she bent forward or reached sideways to get something from her case I got to see a different and enhanced view of her tits.

The cups of her bra were a little too small to contain her ample mounds, which afforded me increasingly revealing views of her tits depending on what she was doing and how she moved. I suspected she was fully aware of this and had become practiced in this intentional display. But you would never know it. She did it with so much attention to my foot that not a single telltale sign was visible that would indicate she was doing anything except her job. She was either as adept at multi-tasking as the most advanced supercomputer or she was missing her calling as an exotic dancer.

With great effort I broke out of my rapt attention to her to turn my head to look at the young woman working on Eileen. That's when I noticed there were actually two women working on her; one on her feet and one on her hands. When I looked at the woman doing her manicure Eileen turned her head towards me and said, "I usually don't get both treatments done at the same time but I don't want you to have to wait."

I smiled at her to acknowledge her thoughtfulness. Helen, the woman doing Eileen's hands, saw me smile at her and she smiled at me as if to say she thought it was unusually sweet to see such a nice couple doing this together. Her smile was incredible, lighting up her entire face and convincing me that it was not just a programmed response like most people's smiles. I looked back at her to say I had noticed and appreciated it. Where did all these nice women come from?

My attention was drawn back to Hunni when she replaced my left foot in the basin and retrieved my right one to be placed on the edge. The next step was to trim my nails and work on my cuticles. Whenever I tried to do this I would invariably end up causing myself pain and accidental injury. Not to mention I was doing it all wrong. Now my toes were in the skilled hands of a master. I started to study what she was doing but quickly stopped because A. I didn't need to know and B. it was taking time away from looking at her body.

Her delicate fingers held my toes so lightly I could barely feel her touch while her other hand used several different utensils to cut, scrape, push and file my nail to get it precisely as it should be. One by one she moved from toe to toe working her magic on my sorely neglected digits. When she had completed work on my right foot she looked up and asked, "How does that feel?"

"Wonderful."

I made no attempt to disguise the fact that I was looking at her the way a hungry dog looks at a rare T-bone steak and it didn't seem to bother her in the least. She was one of those rare women who had this highly refined ability to discern the difference between a man looking at her in a way that said 'I want to jump your bones' and one conveying his appreciation of her talent and her obvious desirability as a woman. This difference was usually very subtle but she correctly put me in the latter category. She smiled at me. If I had thought Helen's smile was remarkable it paled in comparison to Hunni's. Despite its briefness it was beautiful, pleasant and warm.

She continued my treatment on my left foot with the same healing results. I was reassured that I would get to keep all my toes after all. She made a point of telling Eileen that she would cut a little bit of the side of my damaged toe each time I came in so it would eventually heal itself as it grew back out. This method was in contrast to what she said a doctor would do by cutting too much and having to wait several months and do it over again because it would become ingrown and cause me severe pain. She told me to be patient and rely on her judgment to heal it gradually and properly. Not that I put up any resistance to a lengthy process knowing I would get to see her often.

Now that the basic function of the pedicure had been fulfilled the 'Deluxe' part could commence. She repeated the washing of my feet but this time used an aromatic scrub that felt like sand. Instead of using a brush she did this with her hands and massaged my feet more than she washed them. This procedure ended with her using what I called a cheese grater on the bottom of my feet to remove the dead skin. My feet felt reborn by her caring touch. With both my feet in the basin she stood up and left to go to the back of the salon which afforded me another all too brief chance to view her fantastic ass in motion. Watching her walk made my mouth water.

She returned shortly with a small open box containing two towels that had steam rising from them. She told me to put both feet on the edge and picked up one of the towels with a stick and felt it to determine its temperature. "Tell me if it is too hot." She said as she lowered it down to my right foot. At first it was hot but before I could say anything it cooled enough to be tolerable.

"That feels really good."

She sat back down on the stool spreading her legs as she had done before and wrapped my foot in the towel. Then she wrapped the other foot the same way. Both feet were covered from my toes to half way up my shins. While my feet were steaming she busied herself with other items in her case. A couple of minutes later she unwrapped my right foot and poured a pink, fragrant lotion on the top of it. She then proceeded to rub it all over my foot and up to just below my knee. This lotion felt similar to the scrub she had used on the second washing but it wasn't gritty.

She scooted the stool forward a little by pushing it with her butt and spread her legs even wider to get closer to my foot. The folds and lips of her adorable pussy were now as visible as if she had taken her leggings off. She quickly glanced at me as if to make a determination of something unknown to me but would soon become very clear. Then she started massaging my foot. WOW! I had never felt anything so pleasurable in my life. This was better than sex. Primarily because it could last longer. Her eyes were closed as her hands moved over my skin and her fingers caressed my muscles and tendons in a way I couldn't believe could be done.

I'd had massages before but I was quickly realizing I hadn't had enough of them. I certainly had never had one as incredible as this one. And this was just my feet! My imagination short-circuited when I tried to consider what she could do to my entire body. Whatever we were paying for this was not nearly enough. Her magical hands turned my foot into my primary erogenous zone for the next ten minutes.

But wait! There's more. She had been working on my foot from my ankle down but then she moved to my calf. Now her angelic hands stroked my lower leg like it was a giant cock. Unbelievably, after doing this for less than a minute, she moved her upper body forward and placed the bottom of my foot on her breast. Each time her hands slid up my calf she would press her breast against my sole. Even through her bra and t-shirt I could feel the warm soft mound on my skin. I made no attempt to conceal the bulge growing in my crotch.

I knew if I kept looking at her pussy I would have a raging hard-on in no time so I forced myself to close my eyes and lean my head back on the padded headrest. That helped to keep my cock at half-mast while she completed her massage of my right leg. When she moved to my left leg I opened my eyes. Big mistake! There was now a fine line of moisture in the middle of the crotch of her leggings. The only thing that kept me from blowing my load when I saw that was the thought of my wife sitting by my side. Couldn't she see what was going on?

I turned to look at her and saw her in the same position as I was with her head leaning back on the headrest and her eyes closed. I glanced at Helen and the other woman who was doing her pedicure and they seemed to be working without the slightest notice of what Hunni was doing to me. Jesus, was this standard operating procedure for men's pedicures?

Oh well, when in Rome. I surrendered to Hunni completely and accepted anything she wanted to do to me. I was not disappointed. She did the same marvelous massage on my left leg as she had done to my right one with only one difference; she used the other tit this time.

I thought I might get out of this without creaming my pants but as soon as she finished my left leg she hosed down both of them and started all over again with another silkier lotion that smelled heavenly and felt cool on my skin. I got through the right leg without having an orgasm but again I opened my eyes when she switched to the left one. She looked me straight in the eyes and smiled. It totally overwhelmed me. When she had smiled before, it lit up her face, this smile lit up her entire being. A wave of warmth, eroticism, lust, admiration and affection hit me like a tsunami.

Nobody had ever looked at me like that before. I'd never even seen anything like it in a movie. It was breathtaking and it captivated me. Once I had absorbed all that it conveyed, I found myself looking back at her in exactly the same way. Time seemed to stop while our eyes exchanged something that happens only once in a lifetime, if you're lucky. I wanted to keep looking at her like that for the remainder of the massage but I didn't know if I could get up and leave if I did. I closed my eyes and let her continue. I was rewarded with ten more minutes of bliss.

When we were finished she moved next to the chair and put my socks and shoes back on me as reverentially as she had removed them.

"Thank you Hunni."

"You are very welcome sir. I look forward to seeing you again."

Eileen answered for me, "Oh you'll see him again Hunni. He'll be here with me every time I come."

We walked up to the front desk to pay and I saw the sign that said technicians should be tipped with cash so after the receptionist ran my credit card I gave twenty dollars to Helen and Mary, the woman who worked on Eileen's feet, and handed another twenty to Hunni."

"Thank you sir. That is very generous."

"What you did was the best thing anybody has ever done to me."

On the way home Eileen asked me how I had liked my pedicure.

"The only thing I didn't like was that you didn't tell me sooner how wonderful it was."

"Would you have listened to me if I had?"

"Maybe not but you've made a believer out of me now."

"Good. It was fun having you with me. We'll make it an outing when we go again and have a nice lunch after we've had our treatment."

I couldn't tell you how much I looked forward to our biweekly visits to the salon. Hunni got more and more intimate with me on future visits by doing things like going in the bathroom and removing her bra when she saw us come in. When the weather got warmer she told me to wear baggy cargo shorts and no underwear. She reserved a chair for me in the back of the salon that was in a little annex with only one other chair that Eileen used. Now in addition to removing her bra, she would change into a short skirt and take her panties off so I could look directly at her adorable little pussy while she worked on me.