Toes a la Mode (Ma Cheri)

The past year for Cheri had been about as boring as a year could get.
She couldn't even find a guy who wanted to go see SUNSET OF THE LIVING
DEAD with her! "I mean," she sighed, "I thought ALL guys liked these
scary flicks. Or is it just me they don't like? Maybe it's because I
keep insisting that they rub my feet for me. Oh, sure, they're all
ready and willing to rub other things...but my feet? Oh, GOD FORBID!"
She sighed, taking the soda from the man behind the counter and
throwing entirely too much money at him for it. She got her ticket
torn and walked back to the screening room, still bemoaning her less
than satisfying personal life.

Work had been pure hell, and she was tired and aggravated. She'd worn
a brand new pair of shoes to work and had paid the price for not
waiting until they were properly broken in first. The shoes seemed to
have teeth...gnawing on her delicate feet for eight nonstop hours. All
she wanted to do was drown her sorrows in soda and zombies. It was a
little too early to eat, though, so the soda would be enough until
after the movie. That was the beauty of coming to the theater directly
from work. She could see a great horror flick and then pick up some
fast food on the way home. Great entertainment, and no dishes to wash.
Couldn't be any better. Well,...unless she had a man to share this
coup with, of course. She smiled as her brain added, a man who'd maybe
rub her sore feet while she watched the movie. She sighed. What were
the chances of finding a decent guy at all, let alone one who'd be
willing to pamper her achy feet for her? She mentally slapped herself,
telling herself she needed to come back to reality.

Inside the theater, the usual boring ads were screening...the usual
pleas to buy the theater's popcorn and candy at ridiculous prices. She
ignored them as she chose a seat several rows up and near the center.
She plopped into it, tired and feeling a bit down, despite knowing
that she'd soon be watching a movie she'd waited months to see.
Exhausted from the day's stress, she sunk deep into the seat, a soft
sigh escaping her lips. She took a quick sip of her soda, then placed
it and the napkins in the convenient cup holder in the arm of the
seat. Now it was time to get down to business...to get comfortable
once and for all on this otherwise crappy day.

Putting toe to heel, she grunted and strained to get her right shoe
off. It resisted. She persevered, and finally got the evil shoe to
slip off her foot, though not without a fight. It was a good thing she
was wearing thigh highs, as the silkiness of the nylon helped her foot
to slide free of the stubborn leather. The shoe was pushed free of her
foot with a loud "whoosh"ing noise - the sound of silky nylon
rejecting cloying leather - after which it clunked to the floor,
landing somewhere in the darkness beneath her seat. It's evil twin
soon followed.

Cheri noted that the theater was empty, and that the movie was due to
begin in only minutes. Figuring most people were still at work and the
theater would probably be empty throughout the movie, she felt secure
enough to lift her legs and rest them on the seat back just in front
of her. She stretched and wiggled her toes, spreading them to see what
the gossamer nylon looked like with the light of the movie screen
peering through it from behind. There was still enough light in the
room for her to see her blue toenails, even through the sheer nylon.
For some reason, blue nail polish always seemed to make her toes seem
even cuter.

She admired her toes. She'd always thought her feet were pretty, which
is why she couldn't understand why men didn't want to play with them.
"What's wrong with my feet?" she thought, and then answered herself,
"Not a damn thing. Those are two cute feet ya got there, Cheri. Men
are just too focused on other body parts to appreciate them, but those
feet are damn sexy. If men can't see that, to Hell with them...every
last tit-groping one of them!"

She took another look at the nylons. Nope...her feet weren't
comfortable enough...free enough. They needed total comfort...and they
deserved it, after the day she'd had. So, lowering her legs, she
crossed her left calf over her right knee and removed the stocking
from her left foot. Changing legs, she repeated the nylon removal on
the other foot. When she had removed both, she simply dropped them,
letting them drift softly to the floor to join her rejected shoes.
Ahh...now her cute, neglected piggies were totally free. Back up over
the seat back they went. Again, she admired her feet, the blue-painted
toes even more attractive wiggling free of the nylon. She stretched
her legs as straight and far as they'd go, and fantasized some cute,
attentive man holding them by the heels and romantically pleading to
kiss her lacquered toes, asking sweetly with puppydog eyes if he could
pretty please massage them for her. She smiled and sighed, even though
she knew it was all just a sweet, impossible dream. Men! Damn their
selfish hides!

Cheri sipped her soda, smiling as the cool air of the air conditioned
room soothed her bare feet as they dangled and wiggled in front of
her. Her feet, once hot from the suffocating shoes, were now being
nicely cooled by the moving air. She could even feel the cool air
moving between her toes when she spread them apart. She giggled at the
feel of it. As she saw the light sneaking between her spread toes, she
sighed. The imaginary man who'd begged to rub and kiss her feet was
now smiling wickedly at her...leaning forward...opening his
mouth...sticking out his tongue...slipping it between her toes. She
squirmed in the seat, feeling a burning itch begin between her legs.
The itch intensified when she saw the dashing fellow slowly take her
toes, one by one, into his mouth and suck them, licking the underside
of each as he did. Her pulse quickened and she sighed heavily, feeling
the urge to slip a hand between her legs and play in her sweating
honeypot.

So intense was the erotic flood of sensations tingling every inch of
her body as she fantasized in greater and greater detail about her
attractive foot admirer, that her vision got blurry. She could barely
see her wiggling feet, her now hormone-jazzed toes dancing, curling
and flexing madly. The lit screen beyond those toes almost didn't
exist at all, except as an aid in illuminating and highlighting her
feet. She didn't sip her soda,now, but gulped it, hoping the icy
liquid would go through her body all the way to her burning sex and
yearning toes to quench the growing flames of desire searing ever
hotter in both locations.

It was just as she was humorously pretending she could see steam
rising from her feet and from between her legs thanks to the flame
extinguishing soda, that light flooded one side of the theater.
Someone else had entered the dimly lit room and was walking toward the
rows of seats. "Damn," she thought, "another few minutes and I
could've had myself one heck of an orgasm right here in my seat!" In
the darkness, she scowled at the newcomer who made her imaginary foot
lover disappear.

The silhouette walking toward the seats slowly took more distinctive
shape. It was a man...by himself. "Oh, wonderful," she thought, "just
what I need. Some loser without a girlfriend who skulked around
watching horror movies all by himself." But, then, she realized that
except for gender, she was doing the exact same thing...and she
definitely did not consider herself a loser. "Oh, okay," she conceded,
"maybe he's not a loser. But, still, he'll probably be grossed out by
me putting my feet up on the seat in front of me. He might even ask me
to take my feet down. Well, screw him...I'm comfortable, and he
doesn't have to sit anywhere near me. We're the only two people in
here, so he has lots of far away seats to choose from. If he DARES ask
me to put my feet down after the day I've had, I'll show him how my
feet can turn his balls into earmuffs!"

The man walked slowly - his eyes possibly adjusting to the dim
lighting? - deciding where he wanted to sit...and then made a beeline
for Cheri, walking to the row of seats in front of hers. He seemed to
hesitate at first, but then continued. Sure enough, he headed down
that aisle, walking ever closer to her cool, comfy feet. She tensed
for a confrontation. She pictured his balls wrapped around his ears,
warming them nicely. The thought amused her greatly, and she prepared
her litany of exotic threats should he even mention the word "feet" in
anything but a pleading-to-kiss-them manner.

Slowly he walked past seat after seat. Along the way, he spilled some
of his popcorn. Oh, great, Cheri thought...just my luck...a clumsy,
nerdy loser. Her luck, she feared, was running true to form. She
watched him advance down the aisle, bumping into seats and depositing
puffed kernels of popcorn onto the sticky floor for the hired help to
clean up later. Finally, only three seats from Cheri's comfortably
propped feet, he sat down, still seeming awkward and uncoordinated.
When he looked her way, she smiled at him. He WAS cute, after all, in
a klutzy sort of way. He smiled back pleasantly, if a little shyly.
Still, she made no move to take her feet off their perch. In fact, if
anything, they wiggled and danced more than ever...perhaps defiantly.
She giggled to herself, wondering if she wasn't subconsciously hoping
to tease and entice this stranger into desiring her feet...to the
point where he'd fall on his knees and beg just to kiss her big
toe...fawning away at her feet. But then reality slammed her back down
to earth, and she realized that was a hopeless fantasy. Her swoony
smile reverted back to gritty defiance. And just that quickly her
thoughts went from pussy-moistening reverie to "If he doesn't like my
feet up like this....TOUGH!!"

After sitting down and seeming to settle into his seat, the man
unexpectedly got up and slid smoothly to his left, moving yet another
seat closer to her. Cheri only assumed that the floor was extra sticky
in front of his original seat, or that the cup holder was broken, or
some such. She thought nothing much of the move, but again tensed for
a confrontation should he ask her to move her feet.

Then she noticed something that first took her by surprise, and then
started the gears turning in her head. Did she imagine it, or was this
guy actually sneaking peeks at her feet? Was he going to ask her to
move them after all (at his own peril)? No...she didn't think so. It
seemed he couldn't keep from looking at them. But the look on his face
when he did glance over was not one of disgust or even inconvenience.
No, he seemed to be...yes..he definitely was!...he was smiling!! He
even appeared to slink down in his seat so he could glance over more
discreetly...so she wouldn't notice him looking! Suddenly, Cheri was
getting warm all over.

Lifting her hand to her mouth, she tried to stifle an excited, giddy
giggle. She didn't do a very good job of it, and the giggle escaped.
She wondered if the man heard her, because he seemed to stiffen and
then slink down lower in his seat, as if he was embarrassed or
suddenly trying to hide.

The movie began. Clever opticals and special effects enhanced the
opening titles and credits. No name actors and actresses had their no
names emblazoned on the screen with blood dripping from each letter.
Eerie music sounded from the partially disguised speakers spaced along
the upper walls of the theater. Zombies roamed about a deserted
street, their only company wind-blown newspapers proclaiming the
"Zombie plague!" Symbolically, the sun in the background was setting,
the ever darkening sky becoming more and more blood red. SUNSET OF THE
LIVING DEAD had begun to strut its stuff.

Being a horror movie, there were very few scenes that were bright
enough for human eyes to see about the large screening room. But every
now and then, especially at the beginning of the film, a daylight
scene or interior scene with lighting did occur. And each one of those
scenes found Cheri stifling yet more giggles, and squirming in her
seat. She was sure of it now. Every time a brightly lit scene flashed
on the movie screen, the slumped down man would quickly look over at
her feet. Being slumped so low, he had to look to his left and then
upward at such an obvious angle that she knew he could only be looking
at her feet. He was apparently taking every possible opportunity to
admire them. Even during the darker scenes, if she wiggled her feet or
stretched her legs...almost any movement at all...his head would
swivel in their direction, even though he presumably couldn't really
see much. She thought he must indeed be attracted to her feet if even
such slight movements in the dark caught his immediate attention. It
was making her giddier by the second!

Feeling in her heart and mind that the man was definitely interested
in her feet, Cheri decided on a bold move. She took her feet off the
seat back. When she did, she could swear the man looked over, peering
intently in the darkness, trying desperately to see them again. He
sighed, and, to Cheri's pleasure, seemed disappointed when he
couldn't.

Not wasting an instant, Cheri repositioned her feet, this time
sticking them between the seats in front of her, on the side closest
to her apparent foot admirer, resting them between the seats. She was
eager to see what his reaction would be. She crossed her legs, one
foot over the other, and wiggled them about energetically, hoping he'd
see them and resume his visual fascination with them.

It worked...in spades. Even through the noisy din of the zombie battle
on the movie screen, she was sure she heard him sigh. He repositioned
himself in his seat, moving more to his side, trying to hunch down
below the seat back so as not to be seen. But that's the beauty of
stadium riser seats. Try as he might to hide, Cheri could see him
turning his head to stare at her boldly displayed feet. And she kept
up the pressure on him. She wiggled her toes with more energy than
ever. She rubbed her feet together. Occasionally, she'd raise the
upper foot and rotate it in the air, then lower it to repeat the same
actions with her other foot. She kept crossing her legs, first with
one foot on top, then the other. She even rubbed the sides of her feet
on the sides of the two seat backs on either side of them, ever so
slowly sliding her feet up and down along the soft material.

It was working perfectly. She could see the man squirming in his seat.
His head constantly swiveled to his left, his eyes locking on any
movement her feet made. It wasn't long before he was watching her feet
more than the movie. He wiped his brow several times. Once he even
slapped his cheek as if to divert his attention from her teasing
distraction....or perhaps to see if he was dreaming. She was ecstatic
that she was turning this rather cute looking fellow into a sighing,
squirming, sweating puddle of goo. His every move proved she was doing
exactly that. She had no doubt of it. A woman instinctively knows
these things anyway, but in this case it was a crystal clear "no
brainer". And not only that, but she was driving him nuts with her
feet...not her breasts or her ass or her legs or even her pretty
eyes.....but her FEET! And that was making her squirm easily as much
as he was.

She knew she had him. A slight, but growing, feeling of power washed
over her like a warm shower. She knew if she tried, she could get him
to touch her feet....probably massage them for her. And maybe...maybe
even get him to do more....much more. The fantasy of her toes sliding
into the warmth of a sucking mouth came back, with a vengeance. She
knew that she could probably get this man's mouth in just that
position if she played her cards right. So, she decided it was time to
do just that.

It was time, she thought, to reel him in...to drag him, sighing and
drooling, to her sorely neglected tootsies. Those feet were screaming
to her, "Now! Do it now! Get this guy rubbing and kissing us RIGHT
THIS MINUTE!" Cheri agreed, complying instantly with their urgent
pleas. It was definitely time to capture her prey. She trembled from
head to toe, both with nervousness and with expectation, as she leaned
forward in the darkened theater to make her bid. "It just has to
work," she thought as she opened her mouth, "It just HAS to!"

************

If there was one thing Mike was getting tired of doing, it was going
to horror movies alone. None of his friends liked scary
fare...especially if there was even a drop of the red stuff in it. He
had one female friend who liked horror movies, but her weightlifter
boyfriend was just a tad on the possessive side...not to mention
jealous enough to yank Mike's gonads up over his head and tie them
into knots...just for looking at her. And even his more adventuresome
relatives balked at any movie where the actors employed anything
stronger than harsh words. God, people could be so repressed! Wherever
the non-wussies of the world were hiding, he couldn't find them. And
why is it only one woman out of a million likes horror movies? What's
up with that?!

And so it came to pass that once again poor Mike was forced to go see
a scary movie by himself. He went straight from work, having just
enough time to get to the theater by showtime. Not only was the
theater conveniently just a mile or two down the road from his place
of employment, but the early showtime meant that the theater would be
mostly devoid of movie-goers. No giggling, smart mouthed teens to
listen to - and have to screech at - throughout the movie. No
restless, fidgety kids kicking the back of his seat. No nervous,
clingy girl clutching onto her boyfriend and yelping at every other
frame. No idiots with cell phones who just can't bear to turn them off
during the movie. Ahh....a nice, quiet, dark room with wall to wall
scary movie. No date, either...but it would have to do. Sometimes you
have to embrace the positives and try to ignore the negatives of life.

Mike paid for his ticket, making sure to get his "frequent movie-goer"
stub punched by the girl with way too much eye shadow who lurked
behind the great glass window. He stopped at the snack bar and bought
a microscopic popcorn (almost literally microscopic) and a small fruit
drink (ironically, big enough to fill the stomachs of a roomful of
Hulk Hogans), nearly having to refinance his car to do so. He handed
his ticket to the white haired man who collected them from the
customers, who promptly tore it in half and handed half of it back to
him. "Theater ten," the man mumbled disinterestedly, and that's where
Mike's tired dogs shuffled him off to.

Dim lights still partially illuminated the theater, and the pre-movie
advertisements were still rolling along when he entered. He looked
around. Hallelujah! No other patrons! His prayers had been answered!
He'd get to see SUNSET OF THE LIVING DEAD in a nice, quiet, dark
theater...all by himself. A private showing. How cool is that?!

Moving up to the fifth row of the stadium riser seats, he started to
enter the row. But, then he noticed something. He wasn't alone. Two
rows up, hunkered down low in her seat, was a woman. It was hard to
tell in the low light, but she looked to be about his age or younger,
and was sitting quietly slurping a soft drink, waiting patiently for
the movie. Oh, well, he thought, at least she seemed quiet. She was
alone, so she didn't have anyone to talk to or cling to while yelping
during the "cheap scare scenes". So, it was still good...if only she
had the common sense not to bring a cell phone, or at least keep the
damn thing turned off during the movie.

But then Mike noticed something that made him break out in a sweat.
Just as the final local ads were playing out their mostly
unimaginative come-ons, he noticed the woman, hunched way down in her
chair, her head almost obscured from view behind the seat back that
loomed in front of her, had her feet up on that seat back and those
energetic puppies were happily dancing and wiggling about. His eyes
focused on the splaying and scrunching toes as if his irises together
worked as one to bring the enticing image right up to his nose. His
eyes had instantly become very efficient biological binoculars.
Something almost immediately stirred in his sexual psyche. He felt his
breathing become a bit labored, and his heart was pounding out the
same kind of intense beat that he'd heard hundreds of times in the
thriller movies and cheap, "B" horror flicks he so enjoyed.