Between Karyn's Toes Ch. 01

The young girl was stunningly beautiful. She had breezed on into the room right at the point where my attention span was at its dimmest, igniting it again with her very presence.

"Dad?" she said, addressing the man in whose house I was now sitting, and also my employer of four months.

"Karyn, I'm working," he said, barely looking up from the tablet computer in his hands.

I certainly looked up. The girl was delectable! I hadn't ever heard him talk about his daughter before. She looked to be around nineteen, but only just. She was tall, perhaps 5ft 8", with a beautifully athletic, sleek figure which still curved and bulged in all the right places. Her blonde hair cascaded just slightly past her shoulders as she flicked it back, stepping fully into the room.

I felt my pulse quicken slightly as she entered, my five senses suddenly fully awake at the sight of the girl. Instinctively, my eyes began to wander downwards, admiring her gorgeously-long, smooth bare legs, her splendid thighs bordered by tight, white shorts. I could scarcely believe what my eyes were seeing as they drifted down those fabulous legs, legs which belonged to my boss's daughter.

She was barefoot. My throat suddenly felt dry as I tried to swallow.

"But..!" the girl said, insistently.

"No buts," George interrupted, raising one hand and still peering down at the electronic copy of the month-end stats. "Whatever it is, it'll have to wait. I'll be done in an hour or so, so you can talk to me then."

I was lost in a daze, reverentially studying and adoring the girl's intensely stimulating and incredibly sexy bare feet. I found it impossible to look away from them for any length of time. Firstly, I observed that her feet had an exquisite breadth to them; not remotely slender or skinny, and certainly not too wide or masculine looking. Their shape and dimensions were, for lack of a better word, perfect. Her toes I found particularly alluring; the shape of each perfect toe thrilled me as I stared longingly at them, one by one. Plus, I had never seen such incredible toe cleavage before on a female foot such as there was on this girl. Her delectable, unpainted toes had the same satisfying aesthetic as does a pair of surgically-enhanced breasts with just the correct width of space between them. Between her toes were perfectly spaced little 'V's of naked, pink cleavage, like four smooth, miniature pussies dividing each of her incredible toes. The tip of my cock started tingling as I gazed longingly at her toes, my balls throbbing as my imagination started broadcasting high definition footage of my wet and excited tongue slowly exploring each of those incredible little inlets.

"Hello," she suddenly said. I quickly looked up. She was addressing me directly.

"Hi," I replied, giving a wave and a smile more nervous than I'd intended. Surely she'd just caught me staring at her bare feet?!

Suddenly I saw George look up, clearly irritated by her presence. He was quickly denied the opportunity to berate her any further, however, as she had quickly exited her father's study, intuitively avoiding his raised voice.

"Apologies," he said, "my daughter doesn't understand the concept of 'work'."

Staring at the girl's feet had given me an erection, and it was becoming more tightly compressed inside my underwear. I crossed my legs and shifted position uncomfortably in my chair, sitting a mere eight or nine feet away from my boss.

"I didn't know you had a daughter, George," I said, looking over at him. There was probably tons of mundane, everyday stuff I didn't know about my boss. Problem was that he didn't really 'do' small talk or levity when he was around, which wasn't often. This suited me just fine. In fact, after a week or two of working for him, I was happy to discover that he pretty much left me to do my job in peace while he took care of most of the travelling and entertaining of clients. This in itself, however, puzzles me, as he possesses a crushingly uninteresting, flat, battleship-grey persona. I discovered this on day one when he interviewed me for the job four months ago.

"Yes, Karyn," he replied, "Just turned eighteen. Going to college in a couple of weeks."

Eighteen, I thought. Wow.

"Wow," I said, nodding. "I had no idea you had a daughter?"

"Well, I've never had good reason to mention her before, have I?" he said dryly, with a tone bordering on defensive.

"What a beautiful girl," I commented.

As an unhappily married thirty-seven year old male, I was a master adept at noticing beautiful girls, especially their beautiful feet. I only hoped her father took the comment as off-the-cuff, and not because my dick was now hard from staring at her truly magnificent, youthful toes.

"Thank you," he replied, as if the compliment was aimed at him instead of his daughter. He wasn't really listening to me though; his lips moved silently before and after he spoke, reading something to himself while he studied the screen of the tablet computer in his lap.

For another two hours I sat with George in his study, going over page after tedious page of company performance bullshit. It was the least productive two hours of my life. All I could think about was Karyn, who was also somewhere in the house. I dreamily savoured thoughts of her delectable feet and legs while her father drearily talked, ad nauseam, about KPI's and targets I couldn't honestly have cared less about .

Those incredible teenage bare feet! The remarkably arousing spaces between the girl's beautiful toes! My pulse had spiked during the brief time Karyn had been in the room. I watched her as she stood with one naked foot up on tiptoes, the perfect ball of her flexed right foot pressed tightly against the hardwood floor, every sweet, youthful curve and wrinkle of her smooth flesh exposed and exhibited for my lecherous delectation.

My wife, Melissa, has never enjoyed looking at or playing with feet, although, in the early days when we were dating, she would very occasionally let me indulge my love of feet by sucking each of her toes while we were fucking. She always complained that this was torture for her, as, she claims, her toes are extremely sensitive and having them sucked and licked makes her squeal, and she'll squirm like crazy until I stop. Upon discovering her uncomfortable reaction, I, naturally, went out of my way to get her toes into my mouth as often as possible; her nervous writhing and bucking on the bed only adding to the stimulation of my cock deep inside of her. Sometimes, when she was on her period and we were unable to have full intercourse, and after much cajoling from me, she would wrap her bare feet around my hard dick, and slowly stroke and tease me with her toes and soles until I came all over them. Being a runner, she possessed a fine set of firm, fit calf muscles, and I loved firmly kneading and caressing each of them in turn, kissing and licking her toned legs while she slowly stroked my cock with her bare soles. I particularly enjoyed the sight of my sperm streaked across the tops of her feet and all over her pretty toes, however she was always in too much of a hurry to clean it off. I, on the other hand, secretly wished she would leave it, letting me smear it all over her feet with mine as we lay in bed together afterwards; a beautiful mess of my warm, sticky spunk on both our bare soles and between our toes.

I could hardly compare my wife's feet to Karyn's, though. As pleasant as my wife's were, or at least had been years ago, the teenager's feet were straight out of my filthiest foot fantasies. I couldn't believe those incredible, deep valleys between her fabulous toes! How did those silky, fleshy nooks smell? Did she always wander around the house barefoot? Had she ever enjoyed a probing, attentive tongue as it lovingly explored in-between each of her delicious young toes? Had they ever felt the heat from a truly appreciative, fully-erect cock?

My erection was really getting painful. I forced myself up and out of the sweet, sensual foot reverie and tried to focus on George's drivel. He was lost in percentages and compliance outcomes, which, as I had hoped, took the edge off my painful priapism sufficiently.

Suddenly, George's phone rang.

"Hello?" he said, answering.

He said nothing for the next couple of minutes, a concerned look growing on his face.

"Everything ok?" I asked as he ended the call a few moments later.

"Unfortunately not," he said, quickly standing. "That was Marcus. It seems we've had a pretty serious breach of security down at the office. I need to go right now and figure out what's going on over there."

"That's terrible," I said. I couldn't really have cared any less.

"Listen, see yourself out, won't you?" he said, heading for the door. "I'll drop you an email tonight and we can maybe continue this tomorrow."

"Sure, George," I replied. "Let me know if there's anything I can do."

He was gone in a flash, leaving me sitting in his office.

Momentarily, before I even had the chance to tidy away my notepad, I heard footsteps, as if someone was coming downstairs and, latterly, approaching the room.

It was Karyn.

"Dad?" she said, her golden blonde hair swooshing around her as she entered the room.

I was pleased to note that she was still wonderfully unshod.

"Sorry, he just got a call from work and had to leave," I said. "I'm Dean, I work with your father."

"Yes, I know," she said. "I'm Karyn, hi."

The girl outstretched her hand to me, and I, standing, looked into her big, pale blue eyes and shook it. Her skin was warm and inviting to the touch, not to mention silky smooth.

"Firm grip," she commented, smiling and gripping back.

"Hey..OW!" I joked, pretending she was crushing my hand.

She laughed, flashing me a brilliant, dazzling-white smile and looking straight into my eyes.

"So," she said, our hands together, "would you like..uh..a coffee? My father isn't the greatest host, so he probably hasn't offered you one yet."

I smiled at her, our hands finally releasing the clinch.

"That would be great, and no, he hasn't."

"Come through to the kitchen and I'll make it?" the girl said invitingly, leading the way.

I followed her from her father's study through to a large, well-lit, modern kitchen.

"Have a seat at the table," she said, pulling back a chair, "I'll get the coffee ready."

"Thank you," I said, sitting. "So, you're at a loose end today, is that it?"

She laughed, flicking switches and opening compartments on a large, aluminium percolator in the corner of the room.

"Something like that," she replied. "I came down earlier to ask dad if I could borrow the car later but, well, you saw how that turned out."

As she leaned over the counter, reaching for something from a recessed cupboard, I watched her go up onto her tiptoes once again, this time on both feet. From my vantage point, sitting behind her, I could clearly inspect both her beautifully wrinkled, pink, naked, teenage soles right from her curvaceous heels all the way up to the smooth balls of her feet. I instinctively licked my lips, savouring the sight of the fine little wrinkles which adorned the backs of her shapely young heels. I couldn't help but check out her charms higher up too, inspecting the backs of her toned, fit teenage legs, right up to that beautiful, curvaceous ass of hers as she leaned further over the counter. I found myself imagining how deliciously tight her beautiful, eighteen year old asshole must be, obscured only by a flimsy layer of white cotton. And, of course, her sweet, teenage pussy....?!

I swallowed hard, crossing my legs again.

"He can be hard to communicate with sometimes," she went on, "I bet you've found that too?"

"Huh?" I said, paying no attention as my eyes lustily wandered from between the beautiful girl's toned legs all the way down to her gorgeous bare feet and back, unable to acknowledge the joke I'd just inadvertently made with my grunted response.

"Very funny," she remarked, flicking her blonde hair again as she left the machine, sitting opposite me across one of the corners of the large, rectangular kitchen table.

"So, where are you off to tonight," I asked. "Got a date?"

"No, I wish," she said, crossing her arms and reclining in her seat while the percolator hissed and spat. "I was heading over to my friend Candice's place for a while, just to, you know, hang out."

"Candice?" I said, smiling at her. "Is she off to college with you too?"

"Yeah," Karyn replied, smiling back, "she is. She's my best friend. She's a very, very sexy girl. You'd like her!"

Sexy? Did she just say her best friend was sexy and that I would like her?, I wondered to myself. 'Like her' as in want to fuck her?! My heart skipped another beat.

"Are you married?" Karyn asked suddenly.

"Yes," I replied, smiling again. "Yes, I am. Almost nine years now."

"Then, can I ask your advice about something?" she asked, leaning more closely towards me across the corner of the table.

"Of course," I said. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, it's like this," Karyn began. "Candice is.. well, she's pretty wild."

"Uh-huh," I said. "Go on."

Karyn shuffled slightly in her seat, as if hesitant to speak.

"See, she's been.." she paused, glancing down at her arms, still crossed in front of her chest. "She's been having these...threesomes. With a married man and his wife."

Wait. What?! Back up. Did she really just say that?, I asked myself. The moment seemed too surreal. How did we skip the 'getting to know you' bullshit small-talk and end up at threesomes?! I decided to just go with it.

"Threesomes?" I said, almost as if I'd never heard the word before.

"Yeah," Karyn replied. "And they're getting pretty serious."

She put extra emphasis on the word 'serious', leaning even closer towards me as if to avoid being overheard, although to the best of my knowledge we were now alone in the house.

"Last time,'" she said, barely speaking above a whisper, "the wife fucked Candice with a strap-on dildo while the husband made her suck his cock!"

Ok, I thought to myself, this has got to be a dream. Can this girl that I just met five minutes ago really be actually saying these words? If so, then what a fabulous topic of conversation! I was so glad I had been denied the chance to bore her with bullshit like: 'so, what will you be studying at college?'. Besides, a mouth so naturally predisposed to filthy talk such as Karyn's would be utterly wasted on trivialities.

"Wowee!" I exclaimed, momentarily attempting to disguise my arousal as shock, but failing miserably. "And you're worried about her, is that right?"

"A little, yeah," Karyn said. "The husband keeps pestering her to let him film her doing all sorts of stuff. Do you think I should talk her out of it, or just stay out of the whole thing altogether and let her make her own decisions?"

"Well," I asked, keen to know the facts before passing judgement, "what sort of stuff does he want to film her doing?"

The percolator had fallen silent in the last few moments, the coffee pot now full.

"She told me he keeps going on about these...sex toys," she said.

"You mean like vibrators and stuff?" I asked, intrigued.

"Yeah," she replied. "Apparently, they've got dozens of them, big, realistic ones with veins and stuff all down them, loads of them, molded from, like, actual male pornstars penises! Big black ones too!"

I found this hilarious; a married couple spending their quality time together in a room stuffed with big, realistic rubber dicks of all colours, shapes and sizes, arranged neatly in rows of twelve on every surface, the whole room humming as they buzzed and vibrated in unison; a perverted choir of cocks.

"Don't laugh!" Karyn said, although grinning herself.

"So," I said, trying to compose myself, "let me understand this, he wants to film her using these dildos on herself?"

"That's what Candice told me," she replied. "Apparently, he has a real fetish for that type of thing."

I immediately thought again about the fabulously sexy teenage toes from my wildest foot fantasies which were mere inches from me under the table at which we now sat. Suddenly, I understood the married man and his teenage pussy dildo lusts perfectly.

"Well," I replied, "I say she's old enough to make up her own mind. Just as long as the guy doesn't turn nasty or anything, of course."

"That's what I keep thinking too," Karyn said, giving another beautiful smile. "Hey, you're pretty cool and easy to talk to for an old married dude!"

I laughed.

"Old?! Hey, I'm a spring chicken."

In a moment of silence, she looked at me, and a more serious glint manifested in her eyes.

"Truth or dare?" she said.

"Excuse me?" I replied. I had heard her perfectly well.

She grinned.

"Do you want to play Truth or Dare?"

Suddenly, the kitchen felt a little hot.

"I'm thirty-seven," I said. "Is it even legal to play Truth or Dare with a thirty-seven year old man?

"You're also married," she reminded me. "Would your wife, who isn't here, be cool with you playing Truth or Dare with me, more importantly?"

"No," I said with complete honesty, gazing into her blue eyes.

"All the more reason to take advantage then."

I wondered if she meant of her or of the situation. I could see in her eyes she clearly meant both.

"Ok," she said, seemingly forgetting the coffee she'd been so keen to make a short while ago. Not that I gave a shit, mind you. Not now.

"You go first," she said with a grin.

I swallowed. There was no backing out, not even if I'd wanted to.

"Truth or Dare?" I said.

"Truth," she selected quickly. I thought for a second.

"Ok," I began. "Do YOU own any dildos?"

Karyn erupted with laughter.

"Well," I pressed, "DO you?"

She settled, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes," she confessed, blushing ever so slightly. "I have two."

"Really?" I probed. I couldn't have been more interested. "Tell me more."

"They're fabulous," she explained. "Tommy - I named them both - is big, about eight inches, and he's all about the girth when he's inside me."

"Wow," I exclaimed. Her dirty talk was turning me on more and more. I considered exactly what 'inside me' meant. She might as well have said: 'inside my gorgeous, pink, tight, young cunt.' My cock throbbed as I pictured her on her bed masturbating, bare breasted, panting, sweating, her wonderful toes clenched tightly together in ecstasy, a large dildo deep inside that beautiful, palpitating orifice as she neared a mind-blowing orgasm.

"And the other?"

"Brad?" she replied, as if referring to an old school friend, "he makes me very happy because he's neon pink, he fucking vibrates like crazy and he can make me cum so hard in under five minutes!"

She noticed my jaw drop open as she said the word 'cum'.

"Does that turn you on?" she asked with another sexy little grin.

"Yes, very much so," I replied.

"Mmm," she purred, "I love cumming, don't you?"

Oh, wow, I thought to myself. The kitchen seemed to be getting hotter by the second.

"I love it too," I replied, wanting desperately to make this beautiful young girl cum right there in her kitchen.

"I bet your wife cums hard while you're fucking her with that big, married cock of yours, doesn't she?"

I couldn't believe the filth which dripped so nonchalantly from this young girl's lips. Neither could my rock-hard dick, which was straining agonisingly behind my fly.

"Truth or Dare?" Karyn said.

"Truth," I replied.

"Tell me something kinky about yourself, and it had better be good."

"Ok," I said, suddenly feeling the need to clear my throat. "I have a pierced nipple."

"Sorry," she tutted, "that's not nearly dirty enough. Tell me something filthy and exciting!"

I realised there was no way to prevent the confession I was about to make from escaping out of my mouth.