Crazy For Feet Forum

I used to be in the "strictly new" camp. Smell isn't a trigger for me, more of a turn-off. And new shoes suggest someone who cares for her shoes, someone who doesn't wear her shoes enough to wear them out, or someone who has enough shoes so as not to wear any one pair too much. But I've st...

It's not just being bare; it's looking as good as possible while being bare. Most women seem to want to avoid having pale white legs; they're more comfortable when they have a little tan, a little color. What's in fashion has a lot to do with it. Fashion heavily favors opaque, colored tights or a le...

When I was in high school in the late '90s, it seemed like every girl had a pair of these black heeled loafers. Sometimes they were worn with jeans and white socks; other times they were paired with dress pants and trouser socks. Many times, they accompanied a knee-length skirt and black or white ti...

My first thought was "Lora, dear, where did your shoes go?" Then I reconsidered and said "It's okay, just leave them there, you're fine without them." Wow!

This lady dips almost everytime she leans.... [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZBw3PZ7qzIE&list=PLTwRjbIqRhHGw6mL89ch_ghP8SqcXLga7&index=52&t=554s[/youtube] This might be one of the hottest candid videos I've watched in a while. I've only seen a couple legit dips, but it's defin...

Well, I didn't realize that the post got cut off - I suppose it was kind of likely! Here's the little bit that got missed. Thanks to tb600 for bringing it to my attention!

---

At the sofa, Ryan set two glasses on the coffee table. He turned on a movie before picking up the wine bottle and uncorking it. Erin crossed her feet at her ankles, sliding close to Ryan on the leather couch. Ryan reached for a wine glass, but at the last second, he instead grabbed Erin’s empty left pump.

“That’s my shoe,â€￾ Erin said, laughing.

“I’ve always wanted to try this,â€￾ Ryan said, pouring some wine into Erin’s black shoe.

“Oh, my God,â€￾ Erin said through laughter.

Ryan set the bottle down on the coffee table and held up the shoe. “To cousins,â€￾ he said, pretending to toast, then he lowered the shoe to his lips, taking a sip of wine from the heel of Erin’s shoe.

Erin was amused and flattered and embarrassed. “Ryan,â€￾ she managed, still laughing at the absurdity.

Ryan set the shoe down on the coffee table. “Tastes like pleather,â€￾ he said, laughing. “No, really. Maybe it’s your feet, but I think it’s better this way.â€￾

Erin was curious and picked up her shoe, tipping the heel to her lips and taking a sip of wine. Erin liked moscato, but Ryan was right; from her pump, the wine tasted bettter. Maybe it was just the thrill of the forbidden. “Maybe we should get another glass,â€￾ Erin said, sliding her right leg up onto the sofa.

“Maybe you just want out of that extra shoe now,â€￾ Ryan said, reaching down and slipping Erin’s other pump off her foot.

“Pretty much,â€￾ Erin said, trembling as her right pump dropped to the floor. “I kept taking them off at dinner, but I didn’t have your feet to rub on.â€￾

Erin and Ryan shifted on the couch, trying to settle on a position, at last just sitting close to each other, with Erin rubbing her feet up and down Ryan’s legs. Erin felt relaxed and comfortable, and toward the end of the movie, she felt herself nodding off. During the credits for the movie, Ryan got up, returning with a glass of water for Erin.

And there they sat on the leather sofa, as the credits rolled on the TV in front of them. Erin folded her legs onto the sofa, flexing her stockinged toes and brushing Ryan’s thigh, as if to beg for a foot rub.

“When do you go back to school?â€￾ Ryan asked hesitantly.

“Tomorrow,â€￾ Erin said. “I guess I’m sort of looking forward to it.â€￾

“It was nice having you in town,â€￾ Ryan said.

“It was nice being here,â€￾ Erin said, grinding her toes into Ryan’s thigh, wiggling one foot into his pant pocket.

“So where do we go now?â€￾ Ryan asked.

“What do you mean?â€￾ Erin looked over at Ryan.

“Well, you’re going to be back at school,â€￾ Ryan said. “I’m gonna be back here.â€￾

“I can send you pictures,â€￾ Erin said, twisting her legs to wiggle her feet into Ryan’s lap.

“I know,â€￾ Ryan said. “But pictures are a tease. I kind of want these instead.â€￾ He began kneading Erin’s feet.

“Aww,â€￾ Erin said. “Me, too. I mean, I want your massages.â€￾

Erin and Ryan sat in silence as Ryan rubbed Erin’s feet. At last, Erin said, “Ryan, we are cousins.â€￾

“I know,â€￾ Ryan said. “I like having you in my life, too.â€￾

“Me, too,â€￾ Erin said. “I just feel bad stringing you along.â€￾

“You’re not stringing me along,â€￾ Ryan said. “I know what I’m doing.â€￾

The mumble of the television and the sound of Ryan’s hands on Erin’s tights were the only noises in the room. Erin felt like they both knew what had to be said, and they both knew what response they would have, so there was no need to ruin the moment.

At last, Erin got up and gathered her shoes. She slipped on her right pump first, then her left, her sole feeling cool and moist as the few drops of moscato in her shoe soaked into her tights. Erin disliked having wet feet, but the feeling this time made her smile. As Ryan walked her to the door, Erin gave her cousin a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,â€￾ she whispered.

“For what?â€￾ Ryan asked in a hushed tone.

“For this,â€￾ Erin said as she stepped into the hallway.

Ryan smiled wistfully as he eased the door closed.

Erin took a few steps from the door, then paused. She went back to Ryan’s apartment door, slipped off her pumps, and left them at the door. And then Erin padded down the hall in her black tights, ready to drive home.

…

Erin smiled as she rubbed her feet together. Ryan deserved so much more than a thank-you. Erin and Ryan kept texting after she returned to college, but Ryan lightened up a little on his flirting, and Erin only sent the occasional photo of her shoes and feet. They were cousins, after all.

In many ways, though, Erin was a changed woman. Her attention to her wardrobe, and particularly her shoes and hosiery, was Ryan’s lasting legacy. It probably did not help that as a graduation gift, Ryan had sent her a pair of expensive Wolford stockings, her first Wolfords (and, she thought as she rubbed her right foot in the arch of her left, certainly not her last). And she had had success at finding boyfriends who would indulge in her shoeplay habits, though Brady fell short on that list. Erin was growing bored with his lack of interest. Love her, love her feet, she thought.

Erin looked over at Ryan’s girlfriend Lilly in the chair next to hers, as Lilly played with her white-stockinged feet. She was smart, sweet, and shoeless. Ryan had deserved a girl like her, and at last, he had one. He was the happiest he had been in a while, and Erin could see why.

“He’s only a little more discreet now,â€￾ Lilly continued, laughing. “We were at my nonprofit’s holiday party. I was wearing these four-inch heels and the insole started to come apart, and my feet were killing me. So naturally I started complaining to him.â€￾

“Well, that’s unfair to him,â€￾ Erin said. As she said that, she glanced across the room, where Ryan was talking to Brady. Ryan looked over at just the right time. Erin flexed her toes back and forth, and smiled at her cousin. Erin knew a little something about being unfair to Ryan.

Ryan’s eyes met Erin’s for the slightest instant, and he smiled back.

---

As always, comments are welcome!

A little scroll down the page, there's another story of mine I finished last year: "An Easter Lilly In Bloom," in which one of my characters spends an Easter afternoon with her boyfriend's family (and spends most of it playing with her shoes). At one point, she's talking with her boyfriend's cousin Erin, who admits that she knew her cousin had a thing for feet.

So how, exactly, did she figure that out?

"All In The Family" dives into the complexities of two cousins, one with a foot fascination and one who slowly learns that she's encouraging it. I figure many of us have encountered someone who's "off-limits" for one reason or another.

I've been writing this for the better part of a year now, and it is admittedly a long story. I've tried to edit some out, but that leaves unsightly gaps, and this is prose, not a research paper. Besides, it's descriptive, so you can imagine a young lady's stockinged feet the way they were first imagined.

Enjoy!

---

Erin Sullivan studied her feet in the sunlight, as she rubbed her toes up and down the arch of her sore right foot. Her stockings shimmered as she stretched her legs along the length of the lounge chair. In a matching chair, her cousin’s girlfriend Lilly reclined similarly, her long legs stretched out, her toes stretched against her left heel as if she were trying to pry a shoe from her foot. Like Erin, though, Lilly was shoeless, the two girls carrying their dressy shoes up to the sunroom after Easter dinner. Lilly was wearing opaque white tights, and Erin was the slightest bit envious.

Lilly was explaining what shoes she usually wore with white tights, though when they had met over an hour before, Lilly was socializing in her stockinged feet. Her boyfriend, Erin’s cousin Ryan, was retrieving her shoes from wherever she had left them. Erin was jealous at first, but as the two women kicked their shoes off under the dinner table, they bonded over conversation. And now, here they were in a sunroom overlooking the ocean as they continued to chat.

Erin watched as Lilly rubbed her white-stockinged feet together. “Ryan just loves them,â€￾ Lilly said, explaining her choice of hosiery.

Erin rubbed her sore feet together, scratching the arch of her right foot with her toes. “Brady’s indifferent,â€￾ she said with a sigh. Erin had only been dating Brady for a few months, and he was nice, but he was quirky. She had discovered he had an aversion to feet, never taking his shoes off in her presence, and always acting uncomfortable when she took her shoes off around him. Earlier in the day, he had chastised her after church, because she had taken her heels off late in the ceremony.

And Erin was quite aware that not only would Ryan be comfortable with Lilly’s shoelessness, but he would encourage it. “But I always figured Ryan was a foot guy,â€￾ she added, glancing across the room where Ryan was talking to Brady. She hoped he had not heard her, and at the same time, she sort of hoped he had.

“How did you know?â€￾ Lilly asked, rubbing her ankles together and wiggling her crisp white toes.

“We were at a family wedding,â€￾ Erin said, thinking back.

…

It was a family wedding, and an early fall wedding. Erin had had to make a special trip home from college for the ceremony. She had remembered her new dress, but in her rush to pack after class, she had left her best pair of pumps at school, a few hours away.

Fortunately for Erin, she still had a lot of her wardrobe at her parents’ home, and she was able to find a pair of stunning silver heels in her closet. They were the same pumps she had worn to her high school prom, but she had not worn them in three years, and they were far less comfortable now than Erin remembered them being then. Combined with the fact that Erin mostly wore comfy, flat shoes around campus, it made for a very long day.

By the reception, Erin’s feet were killing her. Her shoes were pinching her toes, the heels were uncomfortably high, the seams of her nylons kept sliding under her toes, and the reception hall was stifling hot, so her feet were sweating in her shoes. Erin had wanted to take her shoes off at dinner, but imagined she would never get them back on her feet for dancing afterward. As she walked back to her table with a cocktail in hand, she thought now might be the time. There were stray shoes left under every table already. No one would notice.

Erin sipped her drink as she leaned against her chair, arching her right foot to pop her heel from her shoe. A couple tables over, she noticed one of her cousins, Ryan Baker, standing by a table with a beer in hand, chatting with someone still sitting at the table. Ryan and Erin were not terribly close. She tried to remember who his parents were; technically, they were second cousins or something in that ballpark. He had graduated college four or five years ago, making him something like 26 or 27. They had probably talked one or two times at a family gathering, if that.

But he was glancing in her table’s direction now.

Erin waved and smiled as Ryan nodded back, acknowledging her. He was still in conversation at the other table, so she eased into a chair, crossing her right leg over her left. Sitting down was an improvement, so Erin took another sip of her drink and watched her family out on the dance floor. Every so often, she glanced across the room at Ryan’s table, where he was still in conversation, but glancing back in Erin’s direction all the same. Erin looked down and realized she had let her heel slip from the shoe completely, dangling the silver pump from her toes. She reached down and rubbed the exposed arch of her foot.

A few minutes later, Erin was still rubbing her arch when she heard someone approaching the table. She sat up and pulled her right shoe back on as she looked over to see Ryan closing in. “Hey, Erin,â€￾ Ryan said, still holding a beer in one hand.

“Hi, Ryan,â€￾ Erin said. Ryan may have been Erin’s cousin, but she had to admit he was handsome, tall and clean-shaven and well-dressed in a dark suit and coordinating shirt and tie. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since Clara’s wedding.â€￾ Their cousin Clara had gotten married two years before. It had been a while.

“That’s probably about right,â€￾ Ryan said, sitting down in an empty chair and setting his beer bottle down on the table. “I think you were just finishing your freshman year.â€￾

Erin nodded as she took another sip of her drink.

“How is that going, anyway?â€￾ Ryan asked. “You’re a senior this year, right?â€￾

“Yeah,â€￾ Erin said. “It’s actually going really well. I did an internship this summer, so that was really good.â€￾

Erin noticed that Ryan kept his gaze cast downward as they spoke. Erin tried to see what he was looking at, but the only thing in his line of sight was her bouncing right foot, her shoe once again dangling from her toes. Finally, Erin asked, “Is something wrong with my shoe?â€￾

Ryan’s gaze snapped upward. “Oh, no,â€￾ he said, almost stammering. “I was just thinking, my last girlfriend had a pair of those. I was trying to think where she got them.â€￾

“Oh, I’ve had these for years,â€￾ Erin said, reaching down and taking her dangling shoe off to check the insole. “Honestly, I think these came from Walmart. I wore these to my high school prom.â€￾

“And they’re still comfortable?â€￾ Ryan asked.

Erin laughed. “I don’t think I’ve worn them since,â€￾ she said. “They’re terrible. I had to sit down because my feet are killing me.â€￾ She cradled the empty shoe in her hands, then went to slide it back on her foot.

“Well, don’t put a painful shoe back on,â€￾ Ryan said. “Take them off.â€￾

“You’re right,â€￾ Erin said, setting the silver pump on the floor. She uncrossed her legs, using her right toes to push her left shoe off her heel, then slipped her foot from the shoe altogether. “Ooh,â€￾ she said as she recrossed her legs, folding her left foot under her chair with her toes touching the carpet. “That is better.â€￾

“Why do you think there are so many shoes under the tables?â€￾ Ryan asked.

“Yeah, good point,â€￾ Erin said. She curled her toes and stretched her feet, the hot inside air feeling cool against the moisture of her soles. She wished she had taken the shoes off hours ago.

Erin and Ryan talked a while longer, returning to the bar for new drinks and even walking around the reception hall. They caught up on Erin’s internship adventures, Ryan’s new job in the city, and all the family gossip each of them had heard that the other had not. Erin had felt a bit detached from the family through college, and it was oddly comforting to know that one of her cousins felt the same way.

As they returned to Erin’s table, Ryan said, “It’s a shame we don’t keep in touch better. What’s your cell number?â€￾

Erin gave Ryan her number as she found her own phone tucked into her tiny purse. “We should definitely try and catch up more often,â€￾ she said as she programmed Ryan’s number into her own phone.

“I’m going to go roam the tables again,â€￾ Ryan said. “I’ll catch up soon.â€￾

Erin settled back into her chair, where one of her high heels remained upright next to the chair, and the other lay on its side. She propped her feet up on the rung of the chair Ryan had been sitting in, and she watched her family dancing. Erin was an introvert, and she enjoyed the people-watching as much as others preferred participating. Every so often, Ryan would glance back in her direction, smiling if they met eyes. Erin was amused. If anything, it took her mind off her sore feet.

The wedding came and went, and on Monday, Erin was back to the normal college routine, the wedding weekend just another weekend away. Despite the phone-number exchange, Erin had not heard anything from Ryan, though even if she had, it wasn’t as if she had the time to do much about it. At best, maybe they could catch up over her Christmas break.

And then, one Thursday afternoon as Erin wrapped up her classes, her phone buzzed in her purse. She found the phone and saw Ryan’s name flash across the screen. She flipped open the phone anxiously. “Hello?â€￾ she said with a lift in her voice, even though she knew who was on the other end.

“Hey, Erin, it’s Ryan,â€￾ Ryan said. “What’s going on?â€￾

“Just got out of class for the day,â€￾ Erin said. “What about you? Isn’t it work time?â€￾

“Sort of,â€￾ Ryan said. “I’m on my way to a conference tomorrow, but I’m passing by your school in like an hour. Want to grab some dinner?â€￾

Apparently Ryan had been sincere in his hopes to keep in touch. “Sure,â€￾ Erin said. “Where did you want to meet?â€￾

“Campus is fine,â€￾ Ryan said. “Maybe you can show me around.â€￾

“Sure,â€￾ Erin said. “Do you know how to get here?â€￾

“I have my GPS,â€￾ Ryan said.

Erin gave Ryan the address for the main campus. “There’s a sign for parking,â€￾ she added. “Just give me a call when you park and I’ll come meet you.â€￾

“Okay, sounds good,â€￾ Ryan said. “Bye.â€￾

“Bye,â€￾ Erin said, flipping her phone closed.

Erin felt excited as she walked back to her dorm. She rarely got visitors on campus, and it would be nice to see Ryan again. At the dorm room, she kicked off her worn-out black flats and decided to upgrade her drab college-student outfit. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a college t-shirt, so she swapped the t-shirt for a white long-sleeved top, layering a blue cardigan over it. She hurriedly brushed her hair, then applied new lip gloss and freshened the little makeup she usually wore.

As Erin opened her closet to find a better pair of shoes, she wondered why she was preening so, especially given she was only meeting a family member. But of course she was preening, she told herself. Ryan was a college graduate. The last thing Erin wanted was for him to look at her like she was a lazy college student, dressed in a sweatshirt and leggings or pajamas like half her classmates in an early-morning lecture. Erin was not above wearing pajamas to a lecture if it meant sleeping in another half-hour, but she did not need to broadcast that.

And Erin finally found the shoes that seemed to fit her current outfit best, a pair of dress loafers with silver buckles across the front and a modest inch-and-a-half-high heel, far removed from her abused black flats. Erin slipped into the loafers and felt a little more confident about herself, no matter who awaited downstairs.

Erin’s phone buzzed a few minutes later, and she flipped it open as she pulled on her charcoal hooded peacoat. “Hi, Ryan,â€￾ she said.

“I just parked,â€￾ Ryan said. “So where do I find you?â€￾

Erin rushed downstairs and walked briskly to the parking lots, where she saw Ryan walking over from the far end of a lot to the walkway. Erin waved, and Ryan waved back. At last, the two met on the walkway, with Ryan leaning down to give Erin a hug. “This is a gorgeous little campus,â€￾ he said.

“Imagine what it’s like in spring,â€￾ Erin said. “Or in the daylight.â€￾

The two cousins caught up with conversation as Erin showed Ryan around her college campus, pointing out the academic buildings, the athletic fields, the campus theater. Erin enjoyed playing tour guide, and Ryan was quick with comparisons to his own college. The two stopped for a coffee on their walk to keep warm, before winding up at the student union building’s sub shop for dinner. They took their dinner on the road, Erin finding more facets of campus to show off to Ryan under the lights.

As they found a trash can for their sandwich wrappers and napkins, Erin asked, “Where is your big conference?â€￾

“Stamford,â€￾ Ryan said. “I have a hotel room down there.â€￾

“Ooh, OK,â€￾ Erin said, nodding. “That’s not too far.â€￾

“No, about another hour,â€￾ Ryan said.

“I just didn’t want to keep you too late,â€￾ Erin said.

“No worries,â€￾ Ryan said, smiling. “Though is there a bathroom nearby?â€￾

“We can just head up to my dorm,â€￾ Erin said. “That’s probably the easiest.â€￾

Erin and Ryan headed up to Erin’s dorm room. Erin unlocked the door and stepped into the suite. She and four other girls had private bedrooms that opened into a shared living room, kitchen and bathroom. Ryan ducked into the bathroom while Erin tidied up some clutter on the coffee table. She sort of hoped the tour was coming to an end; as much as she enjoyed it, her loafers were not the right shoes for the adventure, and her toes had been sore for a while.

Ryan emerged from the bathroom as Erin set some mail down on the table. “So which one’s your room?â€￾ he asked.

Erin motioned to the door closest to the kitchen. “That’s mine,â€￾ she said. “Room three. Want to see?â€￾

“Sure,â€￾ Ryan said, walking over. “I feel like I’m in the inner sanctum.â€￾

“It’s just a dorm room,â€￾ Erin said, laughing as she unlocked her door. “Just probably smells prettier than a guy’s room.â€￾

Erin swung the door open and Ryan stepped in. Erin momentarily wondered if she had left anything in plain sight that should not be, but she was always cautious about that anyway. Not that there was much room in the tiny bedroom for clutter to gather.

“It’s small,â€￾ Ryan said after a pause. “Kind of tiny.â€￾

“Perfect for me,â€￾ Erin said, leaning against the doorframe. She popped her right heel from her shoe, but it did little to relieve her cramping toes.

The tour was indeed over, but Ryan had some family gossip to share, tidbits from the wedding that Erin had not heard. As he told the stories, Erin stood in the doorway of her room, struggling with her sore feet. She thought about just taking her shoes off, but felt awkward about doing so. Instead, she reverted to her usual habit, balancing on her left foot while she slipped the right foot from her shoe, wiggled her toes, and slipped her shoe back on. Her sheer nylon socks made the shoes slide off and on easily, and the cooler air was relieving on her hot, tired feet.

Erin dipped in and out of her shoes, taking turns and taking care not to tap her heels on the threshold as she dipped out of each shoe. It was a little relieving, but her toes still hurt, and she felt an itch on the sole of her right foot, so as she slipped her right shoe off the next time, she scratched her sole against the buckle atop her empty loafer. As she did, she realized Ryan’s words had slowed, and she also noticed that his gaze was cast down, watching her rub her pale nylon foot against her shoe. So much for discreet, she thought.

“I’m sorry,â€￾ Erin said, slipping her foot back into her loafer.

“Sorry?â€￾ Ryan asked, snapping up to look at Erin. “Why?â€￾

“My feet hurt,â€￾ Erin said, bending her left knee so she could pop her heel out of her shoe.

“Why didn’t you say so?â€￾ Ryan asked, stepping back into Erin’s room. “You should sit down and take your shoes off.â€￾

Erin stepped into her room and closed the door behind her. Ryan’s suggestion seemed rather eager, but he was right. “Okay,â€￾ Erin said, sitting on the edge of her bed. Ryan sat down next to Erin as, one by one, she slipped off her loafers. The heeled shoes fell softly on the rug next to the bed, and Erin felt relieved as she stretched her toes and feet.

“Is that better?â€￾ Ryan asked.

“God, yes,â€￾ Erin said. “I’ve been walking around all day and my feet are hot and itchy and tired, and oh my God does that sound awful. Don’t look at my feet.â€￾

“Why not?â€￾ Ryan asked, with sudden alarm in his voice.

“Because they’re probably gross and sweaty,â€￾ Erin said.

“I think they look fine,â€￾ Ryan said.

Erin looked down at her own feet. Her feet felt sore and her soles felt moist, but at least from where she and Ryan were sitting, they still looked clean and presentable. She had not painted her toes in a month, but the chipped and worn polish was masked by the reinforced toes of her nylon socks. “Well, thank you,â€￾ Erin said, laughing. “I’m glad you think they’re cute.â€￾ She crossed one leg over the other, dangling one tired foot in Ryan’s direction.

Ryan laughed nervously. “You weren’t wearing those loafers all day,â€￾ he said inquisitively.

“No,â€￾ Erin said, impressed that Ryan recognized her shoe style. “I wear my flats pretty much everywhere.â€￾ She reached to the floor and picked up one of her black flats, holding it up so Ryan could see. Erin preferred to call her beat-up flats “well-loved.â€￾ The flat she was holding showed all the scars and scuffs of being worn almost every day for two years. The finish was worn from the tips of the shoes, and the backs of the heels were worn and cracking where the sole was attached. Inside the shoe, the floral pattern of the insole had been worn away and the fabric was stained tan, the result of hours of Erin’s often-bare feet being trapped inside. While Erin found some comfort in her worn-out flats, she also realized it was probably time for some new shoes. She tossed the shoe back to the floor from where she’d picked it up.

“It’s better than flip-flops,â€￾ Ryan said.

“It’s too cold for flip-flops,â€￾ Erin said, laughing.

After a few more minutes of conversation, Ryan realized it was getting rather late, and he had a hotel reservation an hour or so away. Erin slipped her flats on to walk Ryan toward his car, and they both bundled up in their coats again. At the car, Ryan gave Erin a big hug, and they vowed to talk soon.

When Erin got back up to her room, one of her suitemates, Brianne, was painting her toenails on the sofa. “Who was that?â€￾ the suitemate asked.

“That was Ryan,â€￾ Erin said, kicking off her flats as she curled up onto the opposing sofa.

“New boyfriend?â€￾

“My cousin,â€￾ Erin said.

“Oh,â€￾ Brianne said, capping her bottle of nail polish. “That’s too bad. How close are you?â€￾

“Not very,â€￾ Erin said. “We’re just trying to get back in touch.â€￾

“No, I mean,â€￾ Brianne asked, “how close are you related?â€￾

Erin had to think for a moment. “His mom and my dad are cousins,â€￾ she said. “So I guess that makes us…second cousins?â€￾

“Well, that’s better,â€￾ Brianne said, getting a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Better?â€￾ Erin asked, reaching down and rubbing her feet.

“Well, at least you’re not first cousins,â€￾ Brianne explained. “Second cousins, that’s a little fuzzier.â€￾

Erin was a bit confused, but she could see where Brianne was going. “We seriously aren’t going to start dating,â€￾ Erin said.

“Well, can I date him?â€￾ Brianne asked. “He’s hot.â€￾

“He’s like twenty-seven,â€￾ Erin said. “He lives a couple hours from here.â€￾ She paused. “He is handsome, though.â€￾

“So date him,â€￾ Brianne said. “I mean, don’t have sex with him or anything, but he can still treat you and hang out with you and all. Maybe he has cute mature friends.â€￾

“Maybe,â€￾ Erin said, getting up and picking her flats up off the floor. “I guess we’ll see how much I hear from him.â€￾

The answer seemed to be, at first, not much. Erin was busy with end-of-the-semester assignments and projects and the nerve-wracking emotional rollercoaster of being a graduating college senior, so whether or not her cute cousin was going to call her or come visit was low on her list of priorities. But at times, she would wonder why she had not heard anything new from Ryan. The radio silence continued as she moved back in with her parents over winter break, and through Christmas.

It was just after the new year that Erin, feeling bored on a Saturday, texted Ryan herself. She was going through her closet trying to get rid of some old clothes when the phone buzzed in response. Erin ran to the phone across the room, excited for Ryan’s response. “Hey,â€￾ Ryan had texted back.

“How was your Christmas?â€￾ Erin texted Ryan.

“Warm, some friends and I went down to the Keys,â€￾ Ryan replied. “We just got back last night. You?â€￾

That explained the latest bit of silence, Erin thought. “It was nice, spent with my folks,â€￾ Erin typed. “Feeling kind of cooped up though.â€￾

Erin returned to her chores, but her heart leapt when she heard the phone buzz in reply. Ryan had texted back: “Want to go get a coffee?â€￾

For the next couple minutes, Erin was glued to her phone as she and Ryan quickly made plans. Erin once again preened, trading her sweatpants for some jeans and pulling on a fluffy pink sweater over her t-shirt. She almost grabbed a pair of boots when she instead slipped her bare feet into a pair of glossy black ballet flats with shiny black bows atop each toe. She slipped her feet back out, quickly added some nylon ankle socks, and slipped the flats back on. And with a quick good-bye to her parents, she was out the door and to the car.

Erin told her parents she was meeting someone for coffee, but left out that the coffee shop was a half-hour away. The drive felt like three hours. Erin was nervous with anticipation as she got out of her car and saw Ryan’s silver BMW in the parking lot. Erin walked into the coffee shop and saw Ryan sitting at a table already. He smiled and she felt his eyes study her, from her red hair to her shiny black shoes. “Hey, cousin,â€￾ he said.

“Hi, Ryan,â€￾ Erin replied as Ryan stood up and followed Erin into the line to order their drinks.

The cousins ordered their coffee separately and returned to Ryan’s table, where Erin draped her peacoat over the back of her chair. “So how were the Keys?â€￾ Erin asked, crossing one leg over the other as she sipped her latte.

“Gorgeous compared to here,â€￾ Ryan said. “We stayed in Key West for New Year’s Eve. It was absolutely wild. But the weather was great.â€￾

“I could use a beach day,â€￾ Erin said.

“How have you been?â€￾ Ryan asked.

“Bored,â€￾ Erin answered. “I spent all afternoon so far organizing my closet.â€￾

“And that’s the best you found in there?â€￾ Ryan teased.

“Shut up!â€￾ Erin said. “I was picking out old stuff to donate. I have plenty of cute things in my closet.â€￾ Erin stretched her crossed leg out to the side. “I found these shoes today.â€￾

Ryan looked down as Erin rotated her ankle, showing off her shiny flat. “Those are kinda cute,â€￾ Ryan said.

“I know,â€￾ Erin said, smiling. “I forgot I had them. Now I have to start wearing them again.â€￾

“Where did you get them?â€￾ Ryan asked.

“I forget,â€￾ Erin said, reaching down and slipping one shoe off. Unlike some of her shoes, the brand name was still readable on the insole. “I think Walmart,â€￾ she said, slipping the shoe back on.

As their conversation meandered along, Erin recalled why she had worn the shiny flats sparingly. Erin rarely wore socks or stockings when she bought the shoes, and as they were uncomfortable to her, they wound up in her closet at home. Since then, she had taken to wearing nylons with most of her shoes. Erin’s sheer nylon socks improved the feel of the shiny ballet flats, except that they now slipped uncontrollably from her heels as she sat. As Erin swung her crossed leg, her shoe popped from her heel and dangled from her toes. Erin would try and flex her foot to get the shoe back on, but within a minute, she would feel the back of the shoe slip down her silken heel and fall free. Sometimes she struggled to get her shoe back on, and she would reach down to pull her shoe back on.

And Erin had noticed that Ryan was aware of her shoe dilemma. He had shifted in his seat, and while they talked, he would glance down around the table, particularly when she reached down to her foot. Erin chalked it up to distraction. It certainly did not interrupt the flow of the conversation; Ryan and Erin had a lot in common, and Erin liked having an older, stable relative she could bounce things off. She wished they had been closer when they were younger.

As they wrapped up their coffee rendezvous, Ryan walked Erin to her car. “I don’t know about these shoes,â€￾ Erin said, looking down as they walked. “They’re cute but they don’t stay on well.â€￾

“They are cute,â€￾ Ryan said. “Maybe you just need to break them in.â€￾

“Maybe,â€￾ Erin said. “I’ll give them another chance. Talk soon?â€￾

“Sure,â€￾ Ryan said. “Call me anytime.â€￾

The next two weeks were hectic as Erin moved back to college, settling back into her suite. When she had time, she texted Ryan, who usually texted right back. He was dating someone new, and she found herself oddly jealous of Ryan’s new flame. But they were an hour and a half apart on a good day. Ryan was a businessman, Erin was a college student. And they were cousins. Erin convinced herself her jealousy was rather misplaced.

And then came an afternoon in the student union building, after a particularly dull psychology lecture. Erin had stopped in for a coffee, and found herself at a table killing time before her next class began. And as she killed time, she found herself texting to Ryan. Erin was a bit surprised Ryan had texted back so quickly.

“Hey, cuz,â€￾ Ryan said. “How’s school?â€￾

“Good,â€￾ Erin replied. “Between classes, drinking a coffee. How’s work?â€￾

“Work’s quiet,â€￾ Ryan answered. “Still wearing those cute flats?â€￾

Erin smiled. Ryan remembered their coffee-date conversation. But Erin was not wearing the shiny shoes. Erin was wearing a navy cardigan adorned with snowflakes atop a white turtleneck. Instead of jeans, she was wearing khakis. Instead of sheer nylon socks, Erin was wearing blue socks knitted with white snowflakes. And instead of her shiny black flats, Erin was wearing brown clogs with an ivory fur lining and two-inch block heels. “Not today,â€￾ she texted back. “I’m wearing clogs.â€￾ Erin’s toes traced the stitching around the heel of the backless shoe. Wearing was a technical term.

It was a minute before Erin’s phone beeped back. “Clogs?â€￾ Ryan replied. “I need to see this to believe it.â€￾

Erin leaned back from her table and looked down at her feet. Her left foot was only half in her clog, so she hooked the top of the clog with her toes, swung it out around her right foot, and dropped the empty shoe on the floor. Sitting up, she tucked her left leg underneath her on the chair. With a clearer view, she angled her phone just right and snapped a picture. “Believe it,â€￾ Erin typed with a smile as she sent the photo of her empty clog to Ryan.

Ryan finally replied: “I thought you were wearing them.â€￾

Erin laughed: “My foot is hot.â€￾

Ryan countered: “Hot in those nylons?â€￾

Erin shook her head as she typed: “No, wore socks today.â€￾

Erin finally slipped her clog back on to head to her next class. But she and Ryan continued to text back and forth at her next lecture, and at Ryan’s insistence, she sneakily snapped another photo of her socked feet, empty clogs between them, as she stretched her toes under the chair in front of her.

So it went for the next week or two. Ryan would send a teasing text asking Erin about her shoes, and Erin would discreetly snap a photo of her shoes to send to her cousin. The only day Ryan seemed uninterested was the snowy day where Erin had worn boots to class. Erin found it amusing; Ryan would tease her about her socks, and she would tease him back. Or he would chastise her for taking her shoes off in a lecture hall, and Erin would fire back that she had never done that before he asked her.

One morning, before class, Erin was chatting with her suitemate Brianne. The two girls were flipping through Erin’s photos on her phone when they came across Erin’s shoe photos. “That’s a lot of pics of your shoes,â€￾ Brianne said.

Erin laughed. “It’s my cousin,â€￾ she said.

“The hot one?â€￾ Brianne asked.

“Yeah, Ryan,â€￾ Erin said. “He was teasing me about college girls wearing Uggs to class all the time, so I started sending him photos of my cute shoes, to prove him wrong.â€￾

Brianne was studying Erin’s photos closely. “Does your cousin have a foot fetish?â€￾ she asked.

Erin had no idea what Brianne meant. “A foot fetish?â€￾ she repeated.

“Yeah,â€￾ Brianne said. “Some guys are turned on by feet. Or shoes. Or both.â€￾

“I’ve never heard of that,â€￾ Erin said.

“Really?â€￾ Brianne said. “It’s pretty common.â€￾

“I’m a prude, I guess,â€￾ Erin said, laughing nervously. Erin had gone to all-girl Catholic schools, complete with plaid skirts and saddle shoes. College was Erin’s first exposure to co-ed classrooms, cable television, and so much else. Even dating was a new experience, one that she felt woefully unprepared for. Now, she was learning that apparently, her feet could be a turn-on. She felt suddenly silly for thinking she was modestly dressed when they met up.

For most of the day, Erin was distracted from her lectures and classwork, pondering instead what Brianne had suggested. It all sort of made sense. She had seen Ryan at the wedding months ago. She was talking to him when he got distracted by her shoe. He had asked her where she got them.

And he told her she should take them off. Just like he did later, in her dorm room.

Erin was conflicted. Every time Ryan texted her, it brought a rush of excitement. He was her cousin, as she reminded herself every time, but he was interested and he was flirtatious and she felt like someone was noticing her. Now, she wondered if she was just a pair of feet to him. Was there such a thing? Was that how it worked? Erin wanted to ask him outright, but she doubted he would just open up like that.

It was two days, two long conflicted confusing days, before Erin heard from Ryan again. Erin had stopped in the student union between classes, and she was opening a book when she heard her phone buzz. She flipped her phone open to see a new text: “Hey Erin, what’s going on?â€￾

Erin felt excited and nervous all at the same time. Her thumbs could barely work the tiny phone keys fast enough. “Not much, between classes as usual,â€￾ she texted back. She added, “My feet are hot.â€￾

Ryan’s response came quickly after her second text: “Too close to the heater vent?â€￾

Erin laughed. “No,â€￾ she texted back. “I’m wearing Uggs.â€￾ She reached down and petted the sueded boots. In classic college-student fashion, she was wearing them pulled over her jeans to mid-calf. They were ugly, but they were warm, and admittedly comfortable.

“You should have worn thinner socks,â€￾ Ryan replied.

“I’m wearing them barefoot of course,â€￾ Erin texted back.

There was a short pause, long enough for Erin to rethink whether she was going to get any classwork done on this break. At last her phone buzzed with a reply. She flipped it open to read Ryan’s text: “Erin, for shame.â€￾

Erin was caught off-guard. Ryan seemed truly disappointed. “Uggs are meant to be worn barefoot,â€￾ she replied.

“I think they look better with tights,â€￾ Ryan replied.

“I’ve never worn mine with tights,â€￾ Erin replied.

“You should try, it looks cute,â€￾ Ryan said.

Ryan and Erin went back and forth a little longer, but Ryan never asked for his usual picture. Erin was intrigued. After talking to Brianne, she was convinced that Ryan was a foot fetishist. But the mention of her bare feet left her cousin clearly disappointed. She had even repainted her toenails that morning, anticipating wriggling out of her cozy warm boots for a photo. Now, she looked down at the ugly tan boots, and she felt unwanted, unattractive.

Erin moped to her next class, and only halfheartedly took notes, just trying to get through the afternoon after Ryan’s snub. Later that evening, she paged through her text messages, feeling distraught as she rubbed her bare feet against the comforter. It was only then, though, that she caught two of Ryan’s messages. “I think they look better with tights…you should try, it looks cute,â€￾ he had suggested.

Was it possible? Was Ryan suggesting she try tights with her new boots for fashion’s sake, or was he suggesting it for his own interest? Erin glanced at her phone’s picture collection, mostly photos of her shoes and feet that she had sent in the last few months. In every picture, Erin was wearing socks or hosiery. Never had she shared her bare feet with him. Maybe that was it.

The next day, Erin dressed as if she had an interview. She started with a clingy light pink sweater and a pair of gray dress slacks. She agonized, though, over her choice of hosiery. Erin looked at a few different pairs of trouser socks before settling on a pair of nude knee-highs. She pulled on the stockings and looked down at her pale, almost-white stockinged feet. It was a look that had captivated Ryan before. She hoped it would catch his attention again. She considered wearing her black patent ballet flats, but when she slipped them on, they almost seemed too cute. She slipped them back off, and took out another pair of black flats with pointed toes. She saved them for special occasions, and today, she justified, was such a day.

Erin only had one morning lecture, which went past without incident or fanfare. When she got back to her dorm, she excitedly checked her cell phone. No new texts awaited her. Erin sighed as she slumped down in her desk chair. She had hoped to see something. She read through Ryan’s texts again. At last, she typed, “Just so you know, I’m not wearing my Uggs today.â€￾ She took a deep breath, then hit send.

Erin went about cleaning her apartment, when she heard her phone buzz at her desk. Erin rushed to check her messages. Sure enough, Ryan had responded: “Oh yeah? What are you wearing?â€￾

Erin smiled. He had taken the bait. She quickly slipped her flats back on and took a picture, then sent it as a response, without text.

Ryan’s response barely took thirty seconds: “What are you up to this afternoon?â€￾

Erin smiled, kicking her flats off and folding her foot into her desk chair as she sat down. “Studying,â€￾ she said. “Not much else.â€￾

“I’m free this afternoon,â€￾ Ryan replied. “Want to catch up?â€￾

“Sure,â€￾ Erin replied. The only question was where; her room was messy, and the common area was too awkward if anyone came home. There were, however, a couple study lounges where she could meet Ryan. “I was headed to the union, should I meet you there?â€￾

“Works for me,â€￾ Ryan said. “I’ll be there in 2 hours.â€￾

In an hour and a half, Erin was waiting anxiously at the student union for Ryan’s arrival. She had staked out one of her favorite study nooks, a padded bench along one wall near the union’s fish tank. Her classwork was set off to the side, to suggest that she had actually been studying all that time. The truth was that Erin had been messing with her makeup and pacing frantically in her dorm room, but Ryan had no need to know any of that.

Erin was going to open a book when she noticed Ryan walking into the union building, smartphone in hand. He was wearing a wool coat over his suit and tie, and he looked like he had just left work. Ryan glanced around nervously, and when he looked in Erin’s direction, she waved to catch his attention. Ryan’s smile lit up and he headed in her direction.

“You’re here early,â€￾ Erin said, standing up for her tall cousin.

“I drove fast,â€￾ Ryan said, laughing. “Coffee?â€￾

The two walked across the room to a coffee bar, each ordering a drink. “So you had this afternoon off?â€￾ Erin asked.

“I took this afternoon off,â€￾ Ryan said. “We didn’t have much going on.â€￾

“Lucky you,â€￾ Erin said, smiling. Did Ryan ditch work because of a picture of her shoes?

“You’re the one without class this afternoon,â€￾ Ryan replied.

“I’m full of class,â€￾ Erin said. “Look, dress slacks, new shoes.â€￾ She stopped at the bench, turning one of her legs out and lifting her pantleg to show Ryan the shiny black flats she had chosen.

“Those are cute,â€￾ Ryan said. “Are they new?â€￾

“I’ve had them,â€￾ Erin said, sitting down on the bench. “But I save them for interviews and presentations and fancy stuff.â€￾

“So what did you have today?â€￾ Ryan asked as he sat down in a chair next to the bench.

“Just a lecture,â€￾ Erin said. “I just didn’t feel like wearing jeans today.â€￾

“You look really nice,â€￾ Ryan said. “You should dress up more often.â€￾

Erin smiled. “Thanks,â€￾ she said, feeling tongue-tied. “I might.â€￾ She rocked her feet in her shoes slightly. The flats fit well, but she wanted them a bit loose for later.

“Maybe I’m spoiled,â€￾ Ryan said, unbuttoning his suitcoat. “But I find it way more attractive when women dress nicer.â€￾

“Well, we are,â€￾ Erin said, grinning. She had wanted to string Ryan along, but she couldn’t wait. Without a word, she shook her shoes loose and slipped her feet out of the flats, then folded her legs under her and sat on the bench cross-legged, her pale stockinged feet exposed.

Erin looked up at Ryan. His attention was fixed on Erin’s feet as she wiggled her toes ever slightly, his mouth slightly open. He said nothing. Erin wondered if he could. After a minute of sitting there, Erin smiling, Ryan staring, Erin asked, “Is something wrong?â€￾

“No, nothing,â€￾ Ryan said. “Do you study here a lot?â€￾

“A fair bit,â€￾ Erin said. She felt a bit guilty as she curled her toes, thinking how Ryan felt seeing her shoeless. She wondered if, for him, it was the same as a girl being topless in public. For a moment, she wondered how many other men across the room were also staring, and she felt exposed. But only for a moment. College girls took their shoes off all the time, especially in the union building.

“Do you always take your shoes off?â€￾ Ryan asked.

“Not always,â€￾ Erin said. “If I feel comfortable, I do.â€￾ She rubbed her right foot with her left hand, flexing her toes back and forth. “Or if my shoes feel uncomfortable.â€￾

“So which is it now?â€￾

Erin thought. “Both, I guess,â€￾ she said with a shrug. “I don’t love these flats.â€￾

“They look very formal,â€￾ Ryan said, reaching down and picking up one of the shoes.

“And they pinch my toes,â€￾ Erin said. “I should have worn my bow flats.â€￾

“Why didn’t you?â€￾ Ryan asked, putting Erin’s empty shoe down.

“Because you liked the picture I sent you of these,â€￾ Erin said, smiling at Ryan.

Ryan’s face flashed hints of surprise and joy, and confusion at which one to share. Once again, she had caught her older cousin speechless.

“Besides, you’ve seen me wear my bow flats,â€￾ Erin added.

“Only once,â€￾ Ryan said. “And they kept slipping off your feet.â€￾ Ryan had noticed, and Ryan had remembered.

“So which is better?â€￾ Erin asked, curling her toes and arching her folded feet. She leaned forward and batted her eyelashes.

“This is less of a tease,â€￾ Ryan said.

Erin unfolded her right foot, reaching out and picking up one of her shoes with her toes. “I could tease you with these, if you prefer,â€￾ she said in a serious tone.

“That’s okay,â€￾ Ryan said. “Besides, that’s the wrong shoe.â€￾

Erin dropped the left shoe back to the floor and used her foot to nudge herself back onto the bench before folding her leg back under her. Ryan inched his chair along the floor, getting closer to Erin. Erin smiled. She had his full attention.

“How did you know?â€￾ Ryan asked in a hushed voice.

Erin considered talking about her roommate, but this already had the potential to be awkward enough. “I guess I wondered why you always wanted my shoe pictures,â€￾ she said. “Except for the day I went barefoot with Uggs. And then I remembered you watching me play with my shoes in my dorm room, and when we went out for coffee.â€￾

Ryan’s face was a bit red. “I didn’t realize I was that obvious,â€￾ he said.

“Me, either,â€￾ Erin said. “Until you were all sad about my Uggs, and then it dawned on me that every time we’ve met since the wedding, I’ve been wearing nylons.â€￾

“And in most of your pictures,â€￾ Ryan added.

“So is it my shoes, or my feet?â€￾ Erin asked, leaning closer to Ryan.

“I think you have pretty feet,â€￾ Ryan said. “And I like that you’re always wearing nylons.â€￾

Erin was flattered. Sitting atop her padded bench in her stockinged feet, she felt like the prettiest girl in the world. “Thanks,â€￾ she said. “I just like how they feel in my shoes.â€￾ She paused. “And how they feel when I take my shoes off,â€￾ she added.

“When you send me your shoe pictures, I imagine you taking your shoes off,â€￾ Ryan said. “Like you did in the dorm that night.â€￾

“My feet were so sore,â€￾ Erin said. “I wore those shoes for you, and they hurt my toes.â€￾

“You wore them for me?â€￾ Ryan asked.

“Well, yeah,â€￾ Erin said. “You’re sophisticated, and I didn’t want to look like a frumpy college girl. So I wore heels for you.â€￾

Ryan smiled. “Is this outfit…?â€￾ he asked, his voice trailing off.

Erin nodded. “Now I can take my shoes off for you instead,â€￾ she said, unfolding her legs and stretching out her pale nylon feet.

“You’re adorable,â€￾ Ryan said, laughing.

Erin blushed. She felt suddenly self-conscious, flaunting her stockinged feet in front of her cousin. Ryan was sitting there enthused, but Erin felt guilty. “Ryan, I’m your cousin,â€￾ Erin said as she rubbed her feet together. The sound of nylon rubbing against nylon seemed loud in their quiet corner.

“Second cousin,â€￾ Ryan said. Clearly he had this on his mind, too. “But we’re not dating.â€￾

“Well, no,â€￾ Erin said, crossing one leg over the other. Her pantleg rode up high on her crossed right leg, and she rubbed her silky ivory ankle.

“So as long as we’re not dating or kissing or anything, I don’t think that’s out of line.â€￾

“I guess not,â€￾ Erin said, flexing her dangling foot as she rubbed her ankle and calf.

“But I like hearing from you, so we should talk more,â€￾ Ryan said, pulling his chair closer to the bench.

“And I should send you pictures of my shoes, so you can tell me if I’m dressing well,â€￾ Erin said, pulling her pantleg down and tucking one foot under her on the bench.

“Does that mean you’re going to wear fancier shoes?â€￾ Ryan asked.

“Maybe,â€￾ Erin said, wrapping the toes of her free foot around the leg of Ryan’s chair. The cool metal felt soothing against her stockinged toes.

“That could hurt your feet,â€￾ Ryan said. “Maybe I should visit to make sure your feet get massaged every so often.â€￾

“That would be very responsible,â€￾ Erin said, smiling as she stroked the chair leg with her foot, up and down.

“It’s just the right thing to do,â€￾ Ryan said, reaching down and rubbing Erin’s toes.

Erin had expected the coolness of the metal, but the warmth of Ryan’s fingers touching her toes was something she was not prepared for. Erin gasped in surprise, but the feeling of Ryan’s fingers kneading her little toes was comforting. She let Ryan guide her foot away from the chair and into his hand, into his lap, where she felt his suit pants under her soft heel as Ryan kneaded her foot. Erin had never had her feet massaged before. But she understood why other women loved it. She unfolded her other foot and reached down to the floor, rubbing the ball of her foot into the carpet below. The sensations between her two stockinged feet were nothing short of ecstasy.

Erin and Ryan sat there for minutes, Ryan rubbing Erin’s foot in his hands and Erin stroking the floor with her free foot. The two met eyes, and Ryan shifted his body to nudge his chair closer to Erin. Erin stretched her free foot toward Ryan, rubbing her toes on the tip of his dress shoe before sliding her foot into his lap. The wool suit felt smooth and soft in contrast to the rough carpet below, and Erin fanned her toes as she pressed her sole against Ryan’s thigh. Ryan’s eyes grew wide, and Erin smiled as she curled her toes tightly. Ryan switched one hand to Erin’s other foot, and pressed his thumbs against the ball of each foot as he massaged her two feet one-handed. The soft fabric under her heels and the pressure against her soles felt so good, and Erin felt short of breath.

“We’re in the student union,â€￾ Ryan whispered as he brushed his fingers across the top of Erin’s feet.

Erin nodded as her eyes darted around. They were in the student union. And while she had picked a quiet corner for their rendezvous, people were passing through the room in the background, some glancing in their direction. It was one thing while Erin sat there shoeless. It was another story as she sat there with both of her feet in her cousin’s lap, getting a foot massage. “Maybe we should go back to my dorm,â€￾ she whispered with resignation.

Erin and Ryan both stood up, Ryan nudging his chair to the side and Erin packing her notebooks into her backpack. She threw on her peacoat, then looked down at the floor and her still-empty flats. She looked back up at Ryan. “I have to put my shoes on,â€￾ she said, frowning.

“Not for long,â€￾ Ryan said, smiling as Erin stepped back into her flats for the walk back to the dorm.

Ryan left shortly after dinner that night. Erin had offered to cook something for her visiting cousin, but the two ended up at a tavern instead, sharing a loveseat and sipping wine as they shared stories. Erin curled up against one arm of the loveseat, her flats on the floor and her stockinged toes curled around the edge of a cushion as Ryan played with her feet with his free hand. Amid the stories, they drew a line for their relationship. Their liaisons were to stay quiet, so as not to concern the family. Their intimacy would remain limited to Erin’s feet. That, the two of them could agree on.

The next few weeks were the high point of Erin’s senior year. Erin wasted no time in upgrading her wardrobe; jeans and college sweatshirts were set aside, and her skirts, dresses and dress slacks went from interview and presentation attire to daily wear. Erin’s Uggs and sneakers were nudged to the back of the closet to make way for her rarely-worn heels and her fancier flats. “Another interview?â€￾ Erin heard over and over between classes and leaving the dorm. She just smiled, nodded, whatever she could do to dodge the question.

And at first, it was not without its awkwardness. A girl all dressed up stood out on campus. In the dining halls and her classes, Erin felt like everyone was staring, critiquing her skirts and her shoes and hosiery. In her dorm, she felt like people doubted the sincerity of her excuses for her new look. And Erin felt especially tense the first time she posed in front of a mirror to snap a photo of her new style to send to Ryan. She hesitated as she wrote out her email. It was what they had agreed on, but it was still her cousin.

But with time, it felt more natural. Erin felt more and more confident in her skirts and dresses. She would steal away to the union or the library, and take some photos to send to Ryan. She loved teasing Ryan by sending photos of herself in shoes first. Ryan would always respond: “Cute shoes, but what about your feet?â€￾ Erin would often tease back (“But these shoes are comfortable today!â€￾), but she would always relent, sending a photo of her stockinged feet from her bed, or in a couch in the student union, or tiptoeing around the library.

By spring break, Erin was at ease, both in her new style and out of her shoes. For all the flirtation with Ryan, he had been unable to visit her on campus, so she looked forward to seeing him on her week off. She did wonder how she would explain her new sense of style to her parents, but fortunately, “I like dressing upâ€￾ was adequate reasoning enough for most dress choices.

Erin played it safe the first couple days, but on the third day she was home, she was meeting Ryan for a dinner date, so she had an excuse to dress up. She had a new dress she had bought for a spring night out; it was a form-fitting short-sleeved white dress patterned with black and red flowers. Erin added some opaque black tights and a little black shrug. She tied a black ribbon around her waist for a belt, and added a black bow to her red hair. Erin twirled in her bedroom mirror a couple times, satisfied with her new look, before picking out her shoes. Her shoes, too, were brand new: a pair of black peep-toe wedges. They gave her a couple inches of height, but compared to her usual heels, they did not hurt her feet in the first few steps. Even so, she carried the shoes through the house, only slipping them on before she left.

Ryan was meeting Erin at a sushi bar, and he was waiting outside the front door as she walked up. Ryan looked stunned to see Erin. “You’re beautiful,â€￾ he said, hugging his younger cousin. “And taller.â€￾

“I’m wearing heels for once,â€￾ Erin said, hugging Ryan back. For all the photos and text messages and emails they had exchanged, it was comforting to actually see him, to talk to him.

Ryan glanced down at Erin’s shoes as they separated. “Wedges,â€￾ he remarked. “That’s smart.â€￾

“They’re better than heels, so far,â€￾ Erin said as she walked through the door ahead of Ryan.

Erin and Ryan scooted into a booth by a window in the quiet restaurant. “I’m impressed,â€￾ Ryan said as the waiter left. “You’re really pretty tonight.â€￾

“Thanks,â€￾ Erin said, feeling her cheeks flush. “You’re handsome as always.â€￾

“It’s easy for men,â€￾ Ryan said. “I just left work like this.â€￾

“I had to explain to my mom that I had a fancy night out with friends,â€￾ Erin said, laughing. “She’s getting used to my new style.â€￾

“You don’t look twenty-one,â€￾ Ryan said. “You look mature now.â€￾

“That’s the point,â€￾ Erin said. “It’s helping with interviews, I think.â€￾

“How about dating?â€￾

“Well, I get lots of looks,â€￾ Erin said, smiling.

As Erin and Ryan caught up, Erin crossed her ankles under the table. To her dismay, the wood floor of the entryway changed quickly to carpet, and so her shoes failed to click on the floor the way they had down the sidewalks. On the other hand, the carpet muffled shoe sounds, and Erin always liked being discreet. She uncrossed her ankles, the soles of her wedges now flat on the floor. Erin slipped her left shoe off quietly, nudging it to the side with her stockinged foot. Erin rubbed her stockinged sole against the top of her shoe to scratch it, then slipped her right shoe off as well. She nudged the empty shoe off to her right, and rubbed her stockinged feet against the carpet, feeling more comfortable immediately. She wondered if Ryan had noticed. She sort of hoped he had.

Ryan had ordered a bottle of sake, and as it arrived, Erin felt Ryan sweep his foot across the floor under the table. Ryan’s shoe brushed Erin’s foot, and she pulled her feet back under her side of the bench, but she stretched her legs right back. As the waiter left, Ryan asked, “Did you take your shoes off?â€￾

Erin smiled. “Well, yeah,â€￾ she said. “Aren’t you supposed to take your shoes off to eat sushi?â€￾

“If you sit at those tables, maybe,â€￾ Ryan said, motioning across the restaurant to a set of low tables with mats.

“Oh, well,â€￾ Erin said, reaching out with one foot to find Ryan’s shoe. “I’m comfy now,â€￾ she said as she rubbed her sole over Ryan’s foot. The leather felt cool under her soles, and as she felt the shoelaces under her toes, she wished she could untie Ryan’s shoes for him. She tucked her other foot into Ryan’s pantleg, her toes kneading Ryan’s ribbed socks.

Ryan looked a bit surprised. “Have you been practicing?â€￾ he asked.

“Practicing?â€￾ Erin asked as she rubbed her arched feet around Ryan’s ankles and under his pantlegs. The sensation against her soles and toes was amazing. “I mean, I’ve been taking my shoes off in class a lot.â€￾

“No, I mean footsie,â€￾ Ryan said.

“Oh, no,â€￾ Erin said. “Usually I just rub my feet on top of my shoes. It feels really good.â€￾

“So does this,â€￾ Ryan said.

Erin beamed proudly. “Would you take your shoes off and footsie with me?â€￾ she whispered seductively, leaning into the table. She rubbed her toes along the edges of Ryan’s shoes, the shoelaces tickling her soles.

“No, not here,â€￾ Ryan said softly. “But what I could do…â€￾ Erin saw Ryan reach down, and then felt one of his hands closing around her right foot, gently lifting her foot into his lap, where his other hand began kneading her sole and toes. Erin leaned back in the booth, rubbing her left foot against Ryan’s ribbed socks and shoelaces, smiling at her cousin across the table.

The sushi arrived from the kitchen, and Erin noticed as the waiter set everything down at the table and glanced down at Ryan’s lap. The waiter was asking if they needed anything else, but immediately broke it off, mumbled “I’m sorryâ€￾ and left. Erin felt her face flush red. “Did he…?â€￾ she managed in a low voice.

Ryan nodded. “Don’t worry,â€￾ he said. “Women get foot rubs all the time.â€￾

Ryan was right, Erin thought. And how was a waiter to know they were related at all? For all he knew, Ryan was out with his girlfriend. “I guess so,â€￾ Erin said. “I’ve never been caught before.â€￾

“Sometimes it happens,â€￾ Ryan said, grinning as he picked up his chopsticks.

As they ate and talked, Erin rubbed her feet up and down Ryan’s legs, alternating between his hard leather shoes and the ribbed dress socks and his smooth suit pants. The textures were soothing on Erin’s soles. And while part of her wished he would take his shoes off too, there was something scandalous about being the shoeless girl at the table. A few times, Erin hooked her big toes in the loop of Ryan’s shoelaces. She almost pulled them loose, but decided it would be more fun if Ryan did it to her.

After dinner, Ryan excused himself to go to the bathroom. Erin returned her stockinged feet to her side of the booth, rubbing her silky feet together. For some reason, she felt more exposed sitting alone at the booth, so she swept one foot to the side, looking for at least one of her shoes to play with. When she felt nothing but carpet and air, she swept both feet in a circle around her, trying to find her shoes, but nothing was within reach.

Ryan returned to the booth at last, sliding into his bench. Erin looked across the booth at her cousin and smiled. “I can’t find my shoes,â€￾ she said quietly.

“Oh,â€￾ Ryan said, laughing. “I sort of kicked them out of your reach while I was rubbing your feet.â€￾

“Well, that explains that,â€￾ Erin said, reaching her feet out and resting them on Ryan’s shoes again. “I’d rather put my feet on your shoes anyway.â€￾

“I can tell,â€￾ Ryan said with a smile of his own.

Eventually, Ryan nudged Erin’s wedges back across the table, and she grudgingly slipped back into them before she and Ryan left the sushi bar. Ryan walked Erin to her car, where he hugged her and gave her a peck on the forehead. “Let’s do this again,â€￾ he said as he walked off toward his own car.

Erin was on cloud nine. The date night felt like a test, and Erin felt like she had passed. She checked her phone when she got home, and spent the next two hours texting Ryan, occasionally sending a photo of her silken legs and feet stretched across her bed. Ryan’s replies made Erin smile, and she wished there were more potential from their connection.

But there was still the week ahead. Erin met up with Ryan for lunch a day later, this time pairing the wedges with dressy gray slacks, a red top and a black blazer. Erin regularly spent hours lunching and studying at Panera, but as she and her charcoal-suited cousin took over a booth for their own, she felt like she had matured ahead of schedule. And as she felt Ryan’s shoes under the booth, tugging at the thick soles of her wedges and sliding them from her socked feet, she felt the same sense of anticipation that she loved about their dates. Long after their sandwich trays were empty, Erin and Ryan sat at the booth playing a clandestine game of footsie in the shadows. Ryan brought Erin back to his office for the afternoon; while he was in a meeting, Erin kicked her wedges off under his desk and traipsed around his private office in her jet-black trouser socks. The feeling of being shoeless in his office was thrilling; Erin stood at the door, wanting to stroll across the office to see if anyone noticed her lack of shoes, but she behaved, waiting patiently for Ryan to return. And when he did, he looked down at her black silken toes, barely visible under her slacks, and smiled as he closed the office door.

The day after that, Erin went shoe-shopping, sending Ryan pictures of her potential purchases for him to approve. She settled on a couple new pairs of pumps. She had hoped to meet Ryan for dinner that night, but he had a late commitment, so instead Erin walked around the mall, breaking in her new shoes. A couple hours into her shopping, Erin stopped for a cup of coffee and to rest her tired legs. As she crossed one leg over the other, she felt her new shoe pop from her stockinged heel. She stared at the dangling shoe for a moment, enjoying the sensation as the shoe hung from her toes. Erin took out her phone and snapped a couple pictures of her foot to send to Ryan.

Erin suddenly realized that the guy sitting across the coffee shop had stopped working, and was watching her shoe dangle. He was a little older than her, probably younger than Ryan, trying to focus on his laptop, but his focus had clearly been broken. Erin raised her crossed leg, trying to shift her shoe back onto her foot. Instead, the heel just dangled, and the guy across the coffee shop peeked up from his laptop screen. Erin bounced her foot lightly, making her pump swing from her toes. The guy kept watching. So did Erin. It was sort of mesmerizing, elegant.

Erin sat there finishing her coffee, dangling her shoe. She liked the feeling, but at the same time, she felt stressed, worried that her shoe would go flying off her toes. Erin curled her toes, and her new pump slipped free and landed on the carpet below with a thump. The guy across the room perked up at the thump of her shoe. Erin stretched her toes, and the guy watched, riveted. She could have just taken her shoe off and gotten the same stare.

“New heels,â€￾ Erin said, smiling in the guy’s direction as she reached down for her shoe. She slipped the heel back on, stood up, and gathered her things, returning to the mall for a little more shopping before dinner.

Erin had a family dinner out that Friday night. She wore a new teal-blue sweaterdress and opaque black tights with a pair of black heels, and her parents both complimented her on how mature and put-together she looked. At the dinner table, though, Erin slipped her heels off, and wished she had Ryan across the table to play footsie with her. When her parents left for a bathroom break after dinner, she texted Ryan, “I’m at the table and I took my shoes off. I miss you.â€￾

On the ride home, Ryan texted back: “I miss you too. Come to my place maybe?â€￾

“I could do that,â€￾ Erin replied. And so when they got home, Erin hurriedly made up an excuse about seeing some friends, rushed to her car, and took off for Ryan’s apartment.

Erin knew where Ryan lived, but she had never been to his place. And as she climbed the stairs, she felt a bit nervous. She stopped in the hall and made sure her sweaterdress was pulled down, that her hair was straight. At last, she was at the door, and knocked softly.

“Come on in,â€￾ Ryan said. “It’s unlocked.â€￾

Erin opened the door and walked in. She unbuttoned her coat and hung it up by the door. She was going to slip her pumps off, but she wanted Ryan to see them first. “Should I take off my shoes?â€￾ she asked.

“Nah, keep them on,â€￾ Ryan said.

Erin stepped out from the entryway into the living room. Ryan’s place was well-furnished for a bachelor pad, and surprisingly neat. He was reclined on the couch, alone, watching a hockey game on television. He was still in his slacks and dress shirt, his collar loosened and his tie missing. “Hey, Erin,â€￾ he said, sitting up and leaning forward.

“Hi,â€￾ Erin said, walking over and sitting on the couch. “I like your apartment.â€￾ She crossed her left leg over her right, pointing her foot at Ryan and tucking her right foot against the couch.

“Thanks,â€￾ Ryan said. “It does the trick for now.â€￾ He paused. “I like your sweaterdress.â€￾

“Thanks,â€￾ Erin said. “It’s brand new.â€￾

“And the heels?â€￾ Ryan asked.

“Not new,â€￾ Erin said, stretching her foot to model the simple pump for Ryan. “They just don’t get worn often.â€￾

Ryan reached down and cupped his hand around Erin’s calf, sliding down to the heel of her pump. “I wanted to take them off,â€￾ he said, pulling the shoe from Erin’s stockinged heel.

“Ooh,â€￾ Erin said as she felt her shoe slide from her foot. She wiggled her nylon toes. It may have been the sexiest thing Ryan had done yet. She wanted to slip her other shoe off, but Ryan clearly wanted to do it for her.

Ryan set the empty shoe on his coffee table, then got up and walked to the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?â€￾ he asked. “I have a bottle of moscato open in the fridge.â€￾

“Okay,â€￾ Erin said. She tried to peek into the kitchen from the couch, but her view was poor, so she stood up instead. Balancing on her left tiptoes, she walked one-shod to the kitchen, leaning against the wall as Ryan gathered two wine glasses and a corked bottle of white wine.

Ryan stopped as he closed the fridge, his eyes meeting Erin’s before darting downward to her feet. “That’s a good look for you,â€￾ he said.

“Up or down?â€￾ Erin asked, starting with her stockinged foot arched on her toes, then relaxing and landing her foot flat on the floor.

“As long as that shoe’s off, I think either way works.â€￾

Erin smiled. Walking around Ryan’s office in her stockinged feet had been an inappropriate thrill, but there was something exciting about only wearing one shoe. Just the walk from the sofa to the kitchen had been a challenge of grace. “I kinda like it,â€￾ she said as she followed Ryan with careful steps back to the sofa.

I've had to really give this some thought to think of who, in our combined circle of friends, is an honest-to-goodness shoeplayer. Someone who's pretty reliable, someone who you have to watch at any gathering. And I'm coming up pretty blank. A part of it could be that social gatherings rarely afford...

In Mr. Mike's defense...shoeplay is different now. I'm in my mid-thirties. I first became aware of my fetish, or at least what it meant and how there were other people similarly inclined, in the late '90s. At the time, you had guys like Johnny Nova chasing shoeplay scenarios on camera. Almost all of...

So as it turns out, I went to a wedding today. Casual affair, a small family gathering for a close friend of my wife. My wife wore black flats with her tights; unfortunately the reception was in a tiled church basement so she couldn't take her shoes off, though she told me after that she did slip he...

most of the other hosts have been doing it too but they been putting on socks over the nylons or barefeet :( Jane Treacy was on the other day with the massager with black tights but put on socks while getting that massage. she also walked around the studio in her socks. to be honest Jane has been a...

You know what's great about the segment? You never see her shoes. Most hostesses will remove their shoes during the segment, leaving their heels next to the chair, or maybe off to the side of the set. In this case, they're nowhere to be seen. Gotta wonder how long she's been roaming about the set in...

Thank you! Nancy's one of precious few who seem to have little problem baring their nylon feet these days.

It's a little sad to me that, as much as my wife loves the show, for all Jenna's cute skirt sets and heels, she doesn't play with her shoes, even slightly off-camera. On the other hand, in the episodes I've seen parts of, Erin (Ellie Kemper's character) has a few scenes where she's completely shoele...

There was one episode where Meredith had worn some kind of slides instead of her usual heels, and had one shoe off much of the time. I wish I remembered what precipitated it.

I can't say that I have. But I also don't have any close first cousins, nor am I a toe-sucker either. I have some similarly-aged relatives that, at best, would be second cousins. The one I'm closer to is about a year older than me. She used to fidget all the time with her feet and shoes, though rare...

Months back, I finished a late-for-Christmas Christmas-themed story with a one-off character. And I assumed that she wouldn't appear in another fictional work.

Then I spun off a character for that story for a seasonal follow-up, also a couple months late. And now, I've put the wraps on the third installment, featuring that character I didn't think had more story left in her.

Lilly returns for Easter dinner with her new boyfriend's family. This is a long one, longer than I'd first anticipated - but I felt odd cutting the "glue" that binds the story together. Otherwise it's just a few vignettes that have little reason to be grouped together. That, and I admit I had something of a direction for the middle of the story when I felt I needed to rework that altogether. The result is, well, it's a longer conclusion than I'd planned, but hopefully just as evocative as it needs to be. (No, Lilly is not available for dates to your real shindigs and family gatherings.)

Enjoy!

--

Lilly Preston leaned close to the mirror as she secured a purple flower in her hair. She was usually a fan of a plastic clip or maybe barrettes, but the flower seemed like a proper accent to make a big impression. And she certainly wanted to make a big impression. The delicate lavender petals matched just perfectly with the floral print of her dress, just as she had planned. Lilly smiled.

A phone buzzed softly in the kitchen. Lilly assumed that meant that Ryan Baker was outside her apartment, waiting patiently in his handsome blue BMW. Ryan worked in accounting for one of the companies that sponsored the charity that Lilly worked for. Lilly had met Ryan at their holiday party a few months earlier, after months of working together by e-mail. There was a certain spark that evening, and the following nights had confirmed it.

Suddenly, the proudly-feminist, perpetually-single Lilly had a boyfriend. And she admitted to herself that she enjoyed her new role, enjoyed the dinner dates and the dressing up and being Ryan’s arm candy at parties and social events. It felt reassuring to have companionship beyond her salsa dancing and yoga classes.

Ryan had asked Lilly to join him for Easter dinner at his family’s house. Lilly thought it sounded marvelous. And then the details started coming out. That Easter was a big family gathering for the Baker family. And that the Baker family was pretty wealthy in their own right. And that the Baker family Easter gathering was at a big estate they owned on the coast. None of it was a deception by any stretch; Lilly knew Ryan had money, but she had just assumed it was all self-earned. Lilly, by contrast, was not from money, and the thought of meeting Ryan’s wealthy parents freaked her out a little.

Hence Lilly’s desire to make a big impression.

Lilly had deliberated over the perfect Easter dress, and settled on a white dress adorned with purple and pink floral blossoms. The dress had a modest neckline and little sleeves, which she would hide with a matching lilac-purple shrug with three-quarter sleeves. A classy pearl (or faux pearl, really) bracelet on her right wrist offset the five or six Alex + Ani bracelets on her left wrist, each with a medallion for some cause or charity or value. Below Lilly’s just-above-the-knee hemline, she was wearing opaque white tights. Lilly opted for the tights because they seemed Easter-appropriate, they looked innocent and conservative, and she especially liked Ryan’s reaction when she mentioned them to him a few days before. Lilly usually treated opaque black tights as her safety net for fashion, but the white tights worked well on Lilly’s long legs, and she could see why Ryan was so intrigued.

Lilly’s phone buzzed again as she sat on the edge of her bed and slipped her feet into a pair of lavender peep-toe slingbacks. The shoes had a vintage sensibility to them, with short-for-Lilly two-and-a-half-inch heels, graceful buckled slingback straps and a rounded toe cut out at the tip to reveal Lilly’s white-stockinged toes. Lilly adjusted the slingback buckles to fit tightly around her heels, then stood up and looked in the mirror. She looked like the matured version of a girl in her Sunday best.

Lilly grabbed her purse and her phone and a light spring coat, but through her scrambling, she heard the delightful click of her own shoes and thought, what if they spent time out by the water or on the grass? Lilly dreaded the thought of walking down a grassy hill in her heels, so she fished a pair of lavender ballet flats from her closet. They were a thrift-shop find, a pair of cheap ballet flats dyed to match a bridesmaid’s dress, and they probably sold for a hundred dollars because they were “bridalâ€￾ shoes. But at the thrift-store price tag, they were a perfect pair of springtime emergency shoes. Lilly tucked the flats into her purse as she rushed down to the door.

“Morning, Lilly,â€￾ Ryan said from the driver’s seat of his BMW M3 as Lilly pulled the door open.

“Morning, and Happy Easter,â€￾ Lilly said as she climbed in and slipped into the soft leather seat.

Ryan leaned over the console and kissed Lilly as she buckled in. “I was worried you changed your mind,â€￾ he said.

“I didn’t change my mind,â€￾ Lilly said. “But I wanted a change of shoes.â€￾

Ryan looked in the footwell at Lilly’s shoes. “I like those,â€￾ he said.

“Well, yes,â€￾ Lilly said. “But walking on grass doesn’t like them.â€￾ Lilly reached down and eased her slingback straps off of her heels, because she didn’t like wearing her shoes in Ryan’s car, either.

“So you brought spare flats,â€￾ Ryan said, pulling out of the parking space in front of Lilly’s building and joining the traffic on the main road.

“I did,â€￾ Lilly said, slipping her heels off and rubbing her feet on the carpeted floormats. The carpet felt brand new, and Lilly never had to question if the floor of Ryan’s car was clean. “You never know.â€￾

“It’s good thinking,â€￾ Ryan said, smiling. “You’re always prepared.â€￾

“Usually,â€￾ Lilly said, folding her right leg up and tucking her foot under her left thigh. Her soft white sole peeked out from under her dress, resting against the center console. Ryan enjoyed that, too.

Ryan took his hand off the shifter and wrapped his fingers around Lilly’s foot instead, kneading with his fingertips. Lilly curled her toes. She loved when he did that.

Ryan drove one-handed, his other hand massaging Lilly’s right foot as they rode in silence. At last, Ryan asked, “Are you nervous?â€￾

Lilly laughed, but there was no point in dancing around the matter. “Very,â€￾ she said.

“You don’t have to be worried,â€￾ Ryan said, petting Lilly’s foot with his free hand.

“Of course I do,â€￾ Lilly said. “I’m just this delightfully average girl from a modest family who dresses up so people think otherwise.â€￾

“That’s why I love having you around,â€￾ Ryan said. “You’re a breath of fresh air.â€￾

Ryan had said that since their first night out, when they left the Christmas party where they’d met to grab a coffee before heading home. Ryan was from a world of money and image and uptight socialites. He confessed this to Lilly, who was in her slinky, lacy party dress, black hose and a pair of ten-dollar satin slippers Ryan had given her because her feet hurt too much to wear shoes home. Lilly was, by comparison to the past women in his life, normal and unpretentious.

And Lilly felt like Ryan was far more “normalâ€￾ than the world he came from, even though he certainly lived the part of the money and image. The world of privilege had been a bit of a vacation for Lilly, too. She loved the date nights where she’d wear a designer dress and tall heels that she had paid a pittance for at some thrift store, and they’d follow up a fancy dinner and a bottle of wine with some dancing. It beat the casual splitting-the-check dates Lilly had become used to.

And here they were, the rich boy and the girl who merely looked it, headed off to a fancy Easter dinner. Ryan was wearing a shirt and tie, with his blazer on a hanger in the back seat. Ryan had even followed Lilly’s suggestion that he wear a tie to match the purple in her dress. And here she sat, prim and proper except for the fact that her shoes were off and one foot was getting a gentle massage as she rode along.

Lilly stretched out her left leg in the BMW’s footwell, pressing her toes into the carpet floormat, sort of wishing she could switch feet and get a massage for her left foot, too. Until they got to the house, this would have to do. Ryan was the first man Lilly had dated who confessed to having a foot fetish, and Lilly found herself enjoying it against her expectations. She had called Ryan out on it when they were at a play that winter. Lilly had worn her four-inch heels (cheaply but adequately repaired enough to get her through a night), and Lilly kept noticing Ryan glancing down toward her legs in the dark. “Is there something wrong with my legs?â€￾ Lilly had asked during an intermission.

“No, I’m just shocked you still find those shoes comfortable,â€￾ Ryan had replied.

“They’re not,â€￾ Lilly said. “They still kind of pinch.â€￾

“So take them off,â€￾ Ryan said in a near-whisper.

“Here? Now?â€￾ Lilly asked.

“No one’s going to notice,â€￾ Ryan whispered back.

They were alone in the row, and Ryan was right. So Lilly reached down and gracefully slipped her left shoe from her crossed foot, making sure to set the shoe on the floor silently. Lilly felt self-conscious, but the feeling of her tight shoe coming off was bliss, and she stretched her stockinged toes, curled them tight, then stretched and wiggled them. “Is that better?â€￾ she asked teasingly.

Ryan’s gaze was fixed on her wiggling left foot. “Yeah,â€￾ he managed.

And for the rest of the play, even in the dark, Lilly noticed Ryan straining to see her one stockinged foot. “Are you watching the play or my foot?â€￾ Lilly asked once.

“Both, sort of,â€￾ Ryan said, reaching his arm around Lilly’s shoulders.

Lilly stretched her shoeless foot toward Ryan, and slipped her stockinged toes under his pantleg. She started rubbing his leg, her toes finding the top edge of his dress sock. Ryan tightened his hug, and Lilly kept her foot there for the rest of the play.

Ryan and Lilly followed the play up with a visit to a wine bar, where they occupied one side of a booth, each with a glass of wine while watching a pianist at the front of the club. After the first glass of wine, Lilly had already been talked out of her left shoe. Her feet were in Ryan’s lap, and Ryan was rubbing her shoeless left foot, while gently tugging the heel of her right pump so the shoe slid on and off her stockinged heel. Finally, Lilly had asked, “What is it about my feet?â€￾

Ryan explained his love for feet, that he had been at least aware of his interest since grade school. Lilly listened intently, not even flinching when Ryan finally slipped Lilly’s right shoe off and set it on the table on its side. Lilly was well aware of the mechanics of attraction; she had always been a pretty girl, and she had learned how to use her wardrobe to showcase her figure and often her long legs. But despite a closet full of shoes, her feet had never even factored into that equation. She looked to Ryan’s end of the bench, where the overhead lights made her silken, stockinged feet shimmer, her blue toenails barely visible through the fabric wrapping her toes. She bent her right leg, sliding her right foot across Ryan’s lap so her toes could brush the seam above Ryan’s fly. She only barely needed to curl her toes to feel Ryan’s arousal through his dress slacks. And all it took to elicit that reaction, she thought, was wearing a pair of pantyhose and removing a pair of so-called sexy heels.

Lilly spent that night with Ryan, and she had spent the next two months adapting to her new knowledge. Mostly, it was little tweaks to her habits. Bare legs and boots gave way to hose and heels, with the boots only if it were too cold or snowy for heels to be practical. Instead of wearing her ballet flats barefoot with pants, she opted for knee-highs or cute trouser socks. When a sunny, warm spell popped up in mid-February, Lilly tried wearing some of her strappy sandals with nylons, a style that caught Ryan’s eye a few times. And when they were out on dates, Lilly had taken to playing footsie with Ryan, first nudging his foot or leg under the table, then eventually taking one of her shoes off and rubbing her foot under his pantleg.

And that was how Lilly had ended up in Ryan’s BMW with her slingbacks off under the car seat. Lilly never remembered taking her shoes off in other dates’ cars. But in Ryan’s car, she was invariably shoeless. Lilly flexed her right foot, curling her toes against the center console while Ryan tended to driving. And after Ryan was back up to cruising speed, his hand effortlessly slid from the shifter to Lilly’s waiting foot.

Lilly and Ryan chatted idly as they cruised along, crossing a bridge and tracing the shore toward the Baker family’s home. It was adequately warm for Easter Sunday, in the sense that at least it was not snowing, but it was hardly warm enough for tourists to be lining the beaches and seaside towns. At times, Lilly felt like she and Ryan were the only ones out there.

Finally, Ryan turned off the four-lane highway and onto some two-lane roads, and after winding past a winery, he slowed down for a driveway flanked by two tall stone pillars. A steel gate had been left open. “Here we are,â€￾ he said.

Lilly looked up the long driveway to see an enormous house built at the top of a crest overlooking the ocean. It was absolutely beautiful. Lilly felt all her apprehension of earlier coming back as she unfolded her right leg and felt for her slingbacks, slipping her toes into the shoes. “Wow,â€￾ she said.

“Don’t be nervous,â€￾ Ryan said. “They’re just people.â€￾

“People with money and class,â€￾ Lilly said, reaching down to fit her slingback straps back around her heels.

“You have class,â€￾ Ryan said.

“Says the boy with the shoeless girlfriend in the car.â€￾

“Still classy,â€￾ Ryan said, smiling and leaning over to kiss Lilly’s cheek as she adjusted her shoes, hunched forward in her seat.

Ryan parked his car, got out and walked around to the passenger side. He opened the door to find Lilly still buckling one slingback strap. “I’m ready,â€￾ Lilly said as she took Ryan’s hand and climbed out of the low-slung sports car.

Lilly’s feet landed on the gravel driveway and stones crunched under her shoes. She took a few steps and was surprised that such a fancy house had a gravel drive, though it gave the mansion more of a beach-escape feel. It also made Lilly’s steps very tentative, as she felt stones slipping under her heels and had to hold Ryan’s hand for balance. The walkway to the house was gravel laid around pieces of slate, and Lilly felt more at ease as her narrow heels landed well on the slate stones. At least Lilly’s balance felt more sure, as she still felt nervous as they approached the front door. Ryan knocked twice, then opened the door himself, stepping in first so as not to put Lilly on the spot. Lilly smiled, then stepped inside the house and pulled the door shut behind her.

The house inside was immaculate and elegant. There was the hushed commotion of activity somewhere else in the house, but the front foyer was mostly empty. Lilly heard footsteps coming in their direction, though. “Ryan, is that you?â€￾ a woman called.

“Happy Easter, Mom,â€￾ Ryan called back, taking Lilly’s coat to hang it in the closet.

Ryan’s mother appeared from a doorway, and Lilly thought she was about as she imagined: sophisticated and classy, self-assured, but maybe a bit warmer than she had expected. She hugged her son tightly and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Mom, this is Lilly,â€￾ Ryan said, motioning in Lilly’s direction.

“Lilly, we’ve heard a lot about you,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said, giving Lilly a hug of her own. “We’re glad you could make it. It’s so nice to meet you.â€￾

“Aww, thank you,â€￾ Lilly said. “I’m glad I could be here, too.â€￾

“I like your dress,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said. “You accessorize well, too.â€￾

Lilly blushed. “Thank you,â€￾ she repeated, still expecting to hear some criticism about how she was not quite up to the Baker family’s standards.

“Can we get you anything to drink?â€￾ Mrs. Baker asked.

“Maybe some water?â€￾ Lilly asked.

“Sure, right this way,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said.

Ryan led Lilly through the halls back to the kitchen, which overlooked the ocean and the house’s expansive backyard. A fancy patio opened out to the grass, which stretched as far as the beach and then dropped away into sand. “I’ve got this,â€￾ Ryan said, pouring two glasses of water and handing one off to Lilly.

“You’re just in time for the Easter egg hunt,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said. “All the little ones get so excited for it.â€￾

“I can imagine,â€￾ Lilly said. “Easter used to be so exciting.â€￾ She stood next to Ryan at the island in the kitchen, as his mother stood across from them.

“We’re glad we have the kids here,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said. “Ryan’s sisters’ little girls, and the cousins bring their children too. These holidays are really for the children.â€￾

“They really are,â€￾ Lilly said. “Though I appreciate the occasion to play dress-up, too,â€￾ she added, laughing maybe a bit nervously. She doubted her small-talk abilities when she was on the spot, and she could not remember the last time she had met a boyfriend’s parents. Even though Mrs. Baker seemed pleasant enough, she still felt nervous.

“So what do you do for work?â€￾ Mrs. Baker asked.

Lilly sipped her water. “I’m a coordinator for a non-profit,â€￾ she said. “That’s how I met Ryan.â€￾

“I told her a little of the story,â€￾ Ryan said, moving closer to Lilly and putting his hand on the small of her back.

Lilly smiled through the small talk, but as they stood in the kitchen, Lilly’s lovely lavender slingbacks were growing uncomfortable. Lilly usually bought her shoes very wisely, but with a pair of purple heels, they needed to match an outfit more than they needed to be comfortable. Such were the lavender slingbacks. The height was as comfortable to Lilly as walking barefoot, but the shoes were cut just a bit narrow for her feet, and so her toes felt cramped inside as the shoe forced them toward the peep-toe opening. The other part was her own doing; she had questioned in the car whether she left the slingback straps too loose for comfort, and so she tightened each one a notch before getting out of Ryan’s car. It only took a few steps to realize she had overtightened them, and it would be difficult to correct that without sneaking away somewhere. Classy women didn’t adjust their shoe straps while meeting a suitor’s parents.

As Ryan and his mother talked, Lilly leaned into the conversation. She raised her right leg behind her, and with her right hand, she gently nudged her slingback strap down her heel, being very careful not to snag her tights. She also did not want to nudge the strap so loose that her shoe fell off. Lilly lowered her foot, carefully setting her heel down on the tile floor, then arched her foot, feeling the strap give way just enough. Lilly clenched her toes and slipped her shoe off, planting her soft foot on the tile and spreading her stockinged toes wide against the cool floor.

After a few minutes, Lilly slipped her toes back into her pump, resting her heel atop the slingback strap. She wondered if she could successfully loosen her left shoe’s strap with her stockinged toes, and slipped her right foot free again, this time planting her stockinged toes atop the leather heel strap of her left shoe. She was trying to nudge the strap inconspicuously when Mrs. Baker stood straight up and took a few steps around the island. Lilly slipped her right foot back into her pump, glad she had not been successful.

“You know, we should go out and see the kids finish the egg hunt,â€￾ Ryan said, once again wrapping his arm around Lilly’s back and planting his hand atop her hip, as if to guide her.

Lilly looked up innocently as she reached down, raised her right leg ever so carefully, and tugged the strap back over her right heel. “Sure, I’d love that,â€￾ she said.

“So you like children?â€￾ Mrs. Baker asked.

Lilly laughed nervously. She hated the question because it was an impossible answer, especially meeting someone’s parents. “Kids can be fun,â€￾ she said. “But I’m not in any rush to have my own family. I want to get my career in order first.â€￾ She looked up at Ryan, who had a nervous look of his own on his face. He clearly disliked where the small talk had gone.

“It’s important to have priorities,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said. “These days especially, there’s really no need to rush.â€￾

“I’ll remember you said that, Mom,â€￾ Ryan said, laughing nervously as well.

“I mean, I do tell Ryan we’d love to have grandkids,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said, opening one door to the stone patio outside. “But first things first, naturally. Plus we already have a couple grandkids running around.â€￾

Lilly stepped out onto the patio with Ryan and his mother, her heels clicking on the patio blocks as she left the house behind. The true beauty of the scene was only partly visible from inside the house. The patio stretched most of the length of the house, with a gated inground swimming pool set off to one side, not yet open for the summer. The patio opened onto a spacious lawn, showing hints of green despite the early Easter and the cold winter in the rear-view mirror. Just beyond the lawn, a sandy drop-off led to a beach along the ocean. The sea breeze was cool, but the sun felt warm and inviting on Lilly’s forearms. Above the patio, on a porch on the second floor, Lilly saw a couple men smoking cigars and motioning out toward the water. She guessed they were Ryan’s father and brother-in-law.

The patio was not vacant, either; there were a couple women sitting down at one end, and a few kids milling about. “I think Lilly needs to sit down for a few,â€￾ Ryan said, steering Lilly toward one of the tables. Mrs. Baker took a seat on one side of the round table, and Ryan sat next to her, so Lilly took the other seat to Ryan’s right.

“I like seeing Ryan so protective,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said, laughing. She then motioned to the adjacent table, where two women were sitting. “That,â€￾ she said, gesturing to the closer woman in a blue dress, “is Ryan’s sister Mary. And that,â€￾ she continued, gesturing to the other woman wearing a black-and-tan dress, “is their cousin Emily.â€￾

Lilly nodded. Mary, in the blue dress, looked a little older than Ryan, with the same classy air of their mother. Emily was a few years younger, and very pretty, prettier than Mary even. Lilly loved the dress she was wearing, and thought she had tried it before, hoping to find it again one day on clearance. Emily appeared to be bare-legged, though, wearing a pair of black pumps with ankle straps and four-inch heels. Mary was wearing sheer nylons and blue pumps that matched her dress. Lilly was conflicted; suddenly, in her cardigan and white tights, she felt years younger than them.

All of a sudden, three little girls rushed up to Mary and Emily, each dressed in some form of Sunday best, carrying little Easter baskets. Lilly looked over as the two mothers plucked a few Easter eggs from each basket, then preened their little girls, adjusting headbands and sweater sleeves and dress hems.

“How did you do, girls?â€￾ Mrs. Baker asked from her tables.

Suddenly, the frenzy of girls had surrounded the table where Ryan and Lilly were seated. Not only did Mrs. Baker have the full attention of her granddaughters and great-niece, she also had her own daughter and niece making introductions. “Mary, Emily, this is Lilly,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said, gesturing across the table. Lilly smiled and introduced herself, shaking hands with Mary and Emily. In turn, Mary and Emily introduced their daughters.

Mary’s daughter Marisa was especially excited to meet Lilly. “Miss Lilly, you have purple shoes,â€￾ she said, as if it were a tremendous discovery.

Lilly laughed. “Yes, I do,â€￾ she said. She did like how little kids were fascinated by the simplest things. “I like your shiny white shoes, though.â€￾ Marisa blushed.

“Do you want to come egg-hunting with us?â€￾ one of the girls asked Emily.

“That’s okay,â€￾ Emily said. “Aunt Mary and I can’t really walk in the grass in these shoes anyway.â€￾ She motioned to her black heels, which Lilly recognized had glossy cherry-red soles.

“What about Miss Lilly?â€￾ Marisa asked.

“She’s wearing heels too,â€￾ Mary said.

“Well, actually,â€￾ Lilly said, reaching for her purse. She took out her pair of backup flats and set the two simple lavender shoes on the patio in front of her. The little shoes were styled like ballet slippers, with some decorative stitching to give the flats definition and two little string bows atop the toes. “I did bring spare shoes.â€￾

The girls surrounded Lilly with their Easter baskets as Lilly reached down to unbuckle her slingback straps. She felt bad that the girls couldn’t convince their mothers to come out on the lawn with them. But this was also an easy way to impress Mrs. Baker, and a perfect way to get out of her uncomfortable pumps. Lilly slipped her right foot out of her slingback and into one of the flats, and then did the same with her left, tucking the shoes back under her chair. Lilly got to her feet and said, “Ready to go, girls?â€￾

Lilly was instantly grateful that she had brought the little flats along as the girls led her to the lawn. She missed the sexy clicking of her heels against the patio, but the backs of her heels were sore from the tight straps of the slingbacks, and as the group of girls reached the lawn, Lilly knew she would have plunged into the earth on her first step. She had had enough bad experiences walking in tall heels on grass to know it was a bad idea.

The three girls were wearing shiny and pretty dress flats, but they could have been wearing sneakers the way they attacked the lawn and the garden paths, targeting the parts of the landscaping where they had not yet looked for Easter eggs. One of Mary’s daughters and Emily’s daughter were the same age, so they teamed up ahead, peeking under hostas and looking along the shards of slate laid into the earth. Mary’s daughter Marisa, the older daughter, lagged back with Lilly.

As the egg hunt went on, Lilly found herself less and less enchanted with her thrift-store flats. She was wearing boots the day she found them, and there was no way she was taking her boots off in a Goodwill to try on a pair of cheap flats in her size. The flats were adorable. But they were narrow, and they squeezed Lilly’s toes uncomfortably. The soles were stiff, too, and every time she bent down to talk to the girls, her heels would pop out of the flats. Admittedly, Lilly was breaking them in, as she was pretty sure they had been barely worn before finding their way to the store. But she was quite happy that she had not been the one to buy them at full price.

At last, the girls had found their fill of plastic-shelled Easter eggs, and they came over to Lilly to show her their Easter baskets. Lilly once again crouched down, balancing on her toes so she could be at the younger girls’ level. She felt her heels slip from the flats and heard the shoes slap the slate stone below her. At last, Lilly stood up and followed the girls back to the patio. Marisa lingered back with Lilly as the two younger girls raced ahead. “Your shoes keep falling off,â€￾ she said.

“I know,â€￾ Lilly said, wishing they would fall off for good. “They’re not very comfortable.â€￾

“Mine either,â€￾ Marisa said. “Is that why they make little straps on them like your other shoes had?â€￾

“Pretty much,â€￾ Lilly said. “To reinforce good habits.â€￾

“So we don’t take off our shoes everywhere?â€￾

“I guess so,â€￾ Lilly said.

“So why do big girls take their shoes off all the time?â€￾ Marisa asked.

It was a kid’s question, but as Lilly thought back a few months, and as she thought to the uncomfortable shoes on her feet at the present, it was an interesting question. “Because sometimes, it’s just better,â€￾ she finally said, smiling as they reached the patio.

As the girls showed off their finds to their parents, Lilly circled around the table she had been sitting at, coming up behind Ryan’s chair. She was going to playfully give him a hug, but realized she did not want to seem too forward in front of Ryan’s mother. Instead, she leaned down with her hands on the back of Ryan’s chair. “Hi,â€￾ she said, smiling.

“Hey, Lilly,â€￾ Ryan said, looking up from his seat. “How did that go?â€￾

“It was fun,â€￾ Lilly said. “My feet hurt, though.â€￾

“Take your shoes off,â€￾ Ryan said, joking.

Lilly had already slipped her right flat off, resting her foot atop the leather so she did not have to stand on the patio. “I already did,â€￾ she said.

“I wish I could see,â€￾ Ryan said. “You’re cruel.â€￾

“Did your mom say anything?â€￾ Lilly asked.

“She likes you,â€￾ Ryan said. “She thinks you’re classy, and good with the girls.â€￾

“I should probably put my shoe back on, then.â€￾

“She was very impressed you came prepared, by the way,â€￾ Ryan added.

“Prepared?â€￾ Lilly asked.

“Your spare shoes,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said as she returned to her chair. “You could see how excited the girls got when you could go on the lawn with them.â€￾

“Well, I figured my heels wouldn’t work so well if we were out on the lawn,â€￾ Lilly said. She slipped her right shoe back on, hoping Mrs. Baker hadn’t seen her exposed stockinged foot.

“She’s very practical,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said as if speaking privately to Ryan.

Marisa suddenly appeared by Lilly’s side. “Miss Lilly,â€￾ she asked, “can I show you around the house?â€￾

Mrs. Baker was nodding in the background, so Lilly said, “Sure, I’d like that.â€￾ She leaned back down to Ryan and whispered, “I’ll be back in a few.â€￾

Lilly followed Marisa across the patio to one of the many sliding doors inside. Marisa chose a door to the living room, and Lilly helped her slide the heavy door open and closed again as they stepped inside. Lilly felt her steps sink a bit into the plush carpet as she surveyed the room. Like everything else she had seen so far, it was immaculate, everything shined and polished and clean as if no one had ever actually lived in there. The furniture was ivory leather, the carpets were almost white. Lilly felt like she and Marisa, in their white-and-purple ensembles, were the room’s sole pop of color.

The white carpets gave Lilly a moment of pause. She lifted one leg, noticing a few blades of grass on the heel of her flat. “I’m going to take my shoes off,â€￾ Lilly said, stepping out of her flats and into the carpet. As each foot landed in the carpet, she felt her toes and heels dig into the plush floor. It was soothing, relieving, and at the same time a bit revealing. Lilly realized that six months ago, she never would have taken her shoes off in this situation. She decided that six months ago, she had no idea what she was missing.

Marisa watched intently as Lilly wiggled her white-stockinged toes against the carpet. “Do your feet hurt?â€￾ she asked. Marisa was young but perceptive.

“A little bit,â€￾ Lilly said. “These aren’t very comfortable shoes.â€￾

“They’re cute, though,â€￾ Marisa said.

“Exactly,â€￾ Lilly said. “Comfy is important but cute is even more important. But sometimes cute hurts.â€￾

Marisa led the shoeless Lilly up the carpeted stairs and showed her the expansive mansion. With every exquisitely-furnished room, Lilly felt smaller and smaller. Ryan had admitted, grudgingly, that his family had money. “I don’t like to tell women at first,â€￾ he had explained.â€￾Then they’re just interested in hanging around for the money.â€￾ But he had never suggested that they had the money to buy a small country. Marisa, on the other hand, had grown up in the lap of luxury, so she never flinched as she pointed out each extravagance casually.

But if the mansion was extravagant, it was also comfortable, especially as Lilly walked about shoeless. She was accustomed to walking around her apartment or her office sans shoes, but the mansion’s carpeted floors were so luxurious and so seemingly untouched by comparison. Each step was a gentle massage on Lilly’s soles. When they stopped to look at a room, Lilly would knead her toes against the carpet, or brush her soles lightly against the floor, the fibers tickling her feet. She felt a bit spoiled.

“Are you going to marry Ryan?â€￾ Marisa asked as she led Lilly down another hall to a sunny sitting room overlooking the ocean.

Lilly laughed. “I don’t know,â€￾ she said. “We haven’t been dating very long.â€￾

“You’re the nicest girl he’s ever brought here,â€￾ Marisa said.

“Aww, thank you,â€￾ Lilly said.

“And you wear purple shoes,â€￾ Marisa added.

“Not right now,â€￾ Lilly said.

“Ryan’s other girlfriends never took their shoes off,â€￾ Marisa said.

“No?â€￾ Lilly asked as the girls entered the sitting room. There were two lounge chairs illuminated by the sunlight shining into the room. Marisa sat on the edge of one, her feet barely touching the carpeted floor. Lilly sat in the other, feeling herself sink into the plush chair as she swung her long, white-stockinged legs onto the chair. The warmth of the sun radiated on her pretty white legs and feet, and she wiggled her toes.

“Nope,â€￾ Marisa said. “Except for Marla. She was super nice, and she never wore shoes here. Ryan really liked her.â€￾

Lilly looked down the lounge chair at her shoeless white feet, her toes curling in the sunlight. She had a feeling she understood why Ryan liked Marla so much. Lilly had remembered to bring her purse, so she reached down, fished out her phone, and snapped a picture of her white-stockinged feet wiggling in the sunlight. She smiled as she texted the photo to Ryan, hoping he would be alone when he saw his phone. Then she considered Marisa, and hoped the inquisitive girl did not ask what she was up to. Or mention it later.

“Do your feet still hurt?â€￾ Marisa asked.

Lilly curled her warm toes. “Not really,â€￾ she said. “But I don’t really want to put my shoes back on when we go downstairs.â€￾

Marisa nodded understandingly.

Lilly heard footsteps coming upstairs, muffled by the carpet. “Lilly?â€￾ Ryan’s voice called from the hall.

“We’re in the sun room,â€￾ Lilly called back.

It was barely ten seconds before Ryan appeared in the doorway to the sun room. “Hi, honey,â€￾ he said, smiling.

“Did you get my text?â€￾ Lilly asked.

“I did,â€￾ Ryan said. “Some of the cousins are just pulling in so we’re going to get together downstairs in a few.â€￾

“Should I come down?â€￾ Lilly asked, sliding her right foot off the lounge chair so she could stand up.

“We have a few minutes,â€￾ Ryan said, walking over and kissing Lilly’s forehead. He sat down at the foot of the lounge chair. Lilly raised her left foot and Ryan scooted over on the lounge chair so her foot was resting in his lap. Lilly raised her right leg and slid her right foot into Ryan’s waiting lap as well. She had barely landed her heel on Ryan’s thigh before he had his hands on her soft feet, kneading them gently.

“Thank you for keeping Lilly company,â€￾ Ryan said to Marisa, who looked on with interest as he rubbed Lilly’s feet.

“You’re welcome, Uncle Ryan,â€￾ Marisa said. “She’s really nice.â€￾

Ryan laughed. “I know,â€￾ he said.

Lilly loved that Ryan was rubbing her feet, but Marisa’s intent observation left her slightly unsettled. “How did you know Lilly’s feet hurt?â€￾ Marisa finally asked.

“Because her shoes are off,â€￾ Ryan said. “If I rub her feet enough, she can put her shoes on again. But Lilly doesn’t want to tell everyone, so that’s a secret for the three of us. Right?â€￾

Marisa nodded solemnly. She was clearly mature for her age, but she was still prone to a child’s imagination, Lilly thought.

“Good,â€￾ Ryan said. “We’ll be right down, if you want to head downstairs. I think some of the cousins just got here.â€￾

“Okay,â€￾ Marisa said, nodding. She got up and bolted downstairs.

Lilly looked at Ryan, who was smiling as he rubbed her feet. “She’s very smart, but super trusting,â€￾ Ryan said. “And she likes you.â€￾

“She’s a sweetheart,â€￾ Lilly said. “But right now you’re mine.â€￾

Ryan smiled as he took Lilly’s right foot in his two hands. He lined his fingers up on Lilly’s sole, with the heels of his hands on the sides of her feet, and he rolled his hands down while pressing his fingers into Lilly’s soles. Lilly called it “foldingâ€￾ her feet, and she loved it. He repeated the folding motion a few times before switching feet and folding her left foot. Lilly leaned in and kissed Ryan without a word.

Lilly leaned back into the lounge chair, her feet still on Ryan’s lap. She rubbed her left foot against Ryan’s slacks, and she could feel his arousal. Ryan blushed, and Lilly smiled, wiggling her toes against his crotch. “I should wear white tights more often,â€￾ she whispered.

“Yeah, you should,â€￾ Ryan said. “How are your feet?â€￾

“Happy,â€￾ Lilly said. “Do you need a moment?â€￾

“Yeah,â€￾ Ryan said. Lilly sat up and swung her feet to the floor, cuddling next to Ryan. She dug her toes into the carpet.

“There had better be an encore,â€￾ Ryan added, looking down as Lilly wiggled her stockinged toes.

“Well, of course,â€￾ Lilly said, smiling. She wanted the encore to be right now, if their absence at the party would not go unnoticed. Instead she would wait until they got home. Or maybe to Ryan’s apartment. She remembered the first time he had taken her there. It had started with his hands working inside her peacoat, exploring her curves atop her short sweaterdress. Lilly had reflexively shed her pumps the way a snake sheds its skin, and when the elevator door opened the two awkwardly made their way to Ryan’s apartment door. Once inside, their coats fell to the floor and…Lilly smiled at the recollection. The only bad part was that no one found her shoes in the elevator, and the next morning, she had to pad home in the slippers Ryan gave her, conveniently hiding in her purse for such emergencies.

Ryan apparently had the same thoughts in mind as he stood up. “We should go see the family,â€￾ he said. “Are you ready?â€￾

Lilly nodded, standing up and following Ryan back into the main hallway.

As the two made their way down the stairway back into the living room, Lilly asked, “Ryan, where are my heels?â€￾

Ryan stopped in his tracks. “Um…they’re on the patio,â€￾ he said. “I forgot to bring them in. Where are your flats?â€￾

“Behind the couch,â€￾ Lilly said.

They took two more steps down, and both Lilly and Ryan saw there would be no discreetly finding a pair of shoes for Lilly. The family had started to filter into the living room, and a few had already noticed both Ryan and Lilly coming down the stairs. Lilly sighed. “Oh, well,â€￾ she said, following Ryan into the living room.

As Ryan exchanged hugs and handshakes with some uncles and aunts, Lilly stood quietly alongside, waiting for her introduction. She just hoped that, in the crowd, no one would think to look down. And for the first few “and this is Lillyâ€￾ introductions, she was fortunate. But as the family got more and more spread through the room, Lilly worried that people would be inclined to look down. And sure enough, as she shook an aunt’s hand, the aunt glanced down. “You’re quite tall, and dear, you’re not wearing shoes,â€￾ she said critically.

“We were out on the lawn earlier, for an egg hunt, with the nieces,â€￾ Lilly said. “And when we came in I didn’t want to track any grass on the carpet.â€￾

“That’s smart of you,â€￾ the aunt said, seeming to approve of Lilly’s excuse, before moving on. Lilly was relieved. She had an excuse she could fall back on. And a few times, she did.

But as Lilly followed Ryan around the room, the only girl in her stockinged feet, she still felt a bit awkward. At the holiday party, she was trying not to get caught playing with her shoes, and no one had caught her until the very end. Now, she was entirely shoeless, and people kept glancing down, hoping to judge her by her heels, and instead judging her by her adorable but improperly shoeless stockinged feet. But on the bright side, Lilly was comfortable, as the carpeted floors were soft underfoot. She imagined the other women, mostly in designer heels that cost more than Lilly’s entire ensemble, would regret their shoes by the time lunch was served.

Some of the family took seats on the sofas, and Ryan did the same, leading Lilly to a spot on a white leather couch. Lilly sat down and, figuring she had been exposed by now, crossed one leg over the other, arching her foot for an invisible high heel.

“I just realized,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said, sitting next to Lilly, “that you’re not wearing shoes, Lilly.â€￾

“Well, I didn’t want to risk tracking any grass or dirt on the carpet,â€￾ Lilly said. “So I left my flats at the door.â€￾

“Ryan has found a practical one,â€￾ Mrs. Baker said, giving Lilly a hug with one arm. “That’s what we have a maid for.â€￾ The rest of the room laughed.

While the family members caught up, Lilly listened in, leaning into Ryan a bit, rubbing her foot up and down her leg. She knew Ryan was watching, and as her eyes scanned the room, she could see some of the men glancing in her direction every now and then. It felt like the holiday party all over again, only with a bigger audience. Ryan’s sister Mary had joined the group, and as she stood by the couch, she eyed Lilly’s legs jealously, shifting her weight from side to side. Cousin Emily did the same, stretching her legs to keep her feet from going numb in her towering shoes. None of the Baker women looked comfortable in the least. Lilly felt uncomfortable being shoeless, but her feet certainly felt comfortable. She wondered why no one else dared take their shoes off.

At last, some of the family started getting up and wandering toward the dining room. Mrs. Baker got up to go check on the food, leaving Ryan alone with Lilly on their couch. “Could you do me a favor?â€￾ Lilly asked Ryan.

“Sure, Lil,â€￾ Ryan said.

“Could you go get my slingbacks from the patio outside?â€￾ Lilly asked.

“Sure,â€￾ Ryan said. He got up and headed straight for the sliding door to the patio.

Lilly uncrossed her legs and stretched them out, pointing her toes in and heels out as she rubbed her soles into the carpet. As she stretched, one of Ryan’s cousins glanced over. She was maybe a few years younger than Lilly, with reddish hair and a bright smile. “That is a really cute outfit,â€￾ she said.

“Thanks,â€￾ Lilly said. The cousin was wearing a pink-and-green Lilly Pulitzer dress, and she was either wearing shiny nude hose or she was an heiress to a lotion magnate. She looked cute in her own right, and she had probably even paid retail for the Lilly dress. “I like your dress too.â€￾

“I like the white tights,â€￾ Ryan’s cousin said. “It’s kind of daring but you make it work well. I don’t think I’m that brave.â€￾

Lilly was flattered. “Aww, thanks,â€￾ she said, looking down at her legs. It was a simple fashion choice, really. She wondered why more women didn’t give it a try. “Are those nylons?â€￾

Ryan’s cousin nodded. “Wolfords,â€￾ she said, slipping off one of her glossy tan pumps and wiggling her stockinged toes. “They’re so worth the splurge.â€￾

Lilly’s tights came from Kohl’s, but she knew of Wolfords. She could never imagine spending that kind of money on nylons. “They have a nice shimmer,â€￾ she said.

“I like the tights though,â€￾ Ryan’s cousin said. “It’s very youthful.â€￾

“It looks more grown-up when I have my shoes on,â€￾ Lilly said, laughing as she stood up.

“You really want these?â€￾ Ryan asked, setting Lilly’s slingbacks in front of her on the floor.

“No, but I should try and be a big girl,â€￾ Lilly said, laughing as she slipped her right foot into one empty slingback.

“Oh, of course you’d have matching shoes,â€￾ the cousin said. “Those are so cute. Where’d you get them?â€￾

Lilly slipped the other shoe on and sat down so she could buckle her heel straps. “I actually found them at a secondhand store,â€￾ she said. “There’s this little shop downtown that’s all vintage stuff and designer stuff that’s traded in. It’s the only way I could afford some outfits.â€￾ She buckled her first strap, leaving it looser than she had buckled them in the car.

The cousin slipped her shoe back on. “I’m Erin, by the way,â€￾ she said, finally introducing herself. “And this is Brady.â€￾

“And I’m Lilly,â€￾ Lilly said as she buckled her left heel strap. She stood up and arched her feet, feeling her heels barely rub the heel straps of her shoes. Maybe she had left them too loose this time. She could fix that later, she rationalized as she and cousin Erin and their dates walked to the dining room.

As Lilly walked, she wished she had stayed in her tights after all. The dining room was as plushly carpeted as the living room, and with her slingback straps so loose, the shoes were difficult to walk in. She did like that Ryan had put his hand around her waist to sort of guide her, and she felt ladylike and elegant despite her loose-fitting pumps making each step slightly treacherous. Ryan selected two chairs and pulled one out for Lilly, who gracefully sat down next to cousin Erin. Ryan sat in the seat next to hers. Lilly slid her feet back toward her chair, her stockinged soles gliding on the smooth insoles of her slingbacks, the slingback straps helplessly brushing her stockinged heels. Despite the commotion and the hum of chatter in the dining room, Lilly heard the distinct sound of nylon heels popping free from shoes not far away. She glanced over at Erin in the next chair.

Erin was sipping a glass of water and glanced over at Lilly. “Oh, hi, Lilly,â€￾ she said, having not noticed Ryan and Lilly taking the seats next to her. Lowering her voice, Erin asked, “Did you take your shoes off?â€￾

“Mostly,â€￾ Lilly said in an equally low voice, her toes playing with her slingback straps.

“Me too,â€￾ Erin said, looking under the table. Lilly looked to see Erin stretching her legs out in front of her, wiggling her nude-hosed toes.

“I brought a pair of flats, but I was in the grass with them earlier,â€￾ Lilly explained. “So I didn’t want to wear them in here.â€￾

“Brady yelled at me after church,â€￾ Erin said. “Mass ran wicked long and we were standing the whole first half, and so I took my shoes off and got communion in my stocking feet. Brady was so embarrassed.â€￾

“Heels are not made for standing around,â€￾ Lilly said. “Ryan and I went to a function two weeks ago, and after an hour I had to take my shoes off and just stand there for the last half. My toes were so sore.â€￾

“My toes still hurt from church,â€￾ Erin said.

“Mine feel good now,â€￾ Lilly said, as she rubbed her feet into the carpet.

Erin was about to say something, but Brady and Ryan both leaned in with a silencing finger as Ryan’s father raised a glass to kick off dinner.

After a toast and a prayer, Erin and Lilly continued to chat through Easter dinner. Lilly was just pleased she had someone besides Ryan to talk to. While they talked, Lilly occasionally nudged her shoes around with a stockinged foot, or reached over and rubbed her toes on Ryan’s pantleg. She wished Ryan would take his shoes off and play footsie with her, but it would be an awkward game at best. Besides, Ryan never took his shoes off in public, and Lilly sort of liked that, especially as she became more prone to playing with her shoes. One of them had to be the proper one, after all. She wondered if Erin and Brady had the same chemistry.

Dinner wrapped up, and some of the family ventured back outside, while others mingled around the table and some stayed seated finishing conversations. Ryan left to use the bathroom. Lilly stayed at the table partly because she had nowhere else to go, and partly because she didn’t want to put her shoes back on. She had stretched her long legs out, exploring the frame under the table, exploring the carpet, making sure she hadn’t lost track of her pretty purple slingbacks. She looked over at Erin, who was slumped down in her own chair, playing on her cell phone. Lilly looked under Erin’s chair and her shiny tan pumps were still empty under her chair. Brady suddenly returned and slid his chair out from under the table so he could sit down. “What do you want to do?â€￾ he asked Erin.

“I don’t know,â€￾ Erin said as her fingertips flicked at her phone.

“Did you put your shoes back on yet?â€￾ Brady asked.

“No,â€￾ Erin said sheepishly.

“Me either,â€￾ Lilly said, coming to Erin’s defense.

Brady glanced under the table. “What is it with you girls and shoes?â€￾ he asked, laughing.

“You try wearing three-inch heels all day,â€￾ Erin said.

“But you’re going barefoot in public,â€￾ Brady countered.

“We’re wearing nylons,â€￾ Lilly said.

“Socks aren’t any better,â€￾ Brady argued.

“All the best shoes are just made to look cute,â€￾ Erin said. “They’re not made to be comfortable in the least.â€￾

“And that’s why they make our shoes easy to take off,â€￾ Lilly added, dragging her slingbacks out from under the table. If she were going to wear them again, she had to adjust the heel straps first.

“Ryan, you’ve gotta back me up on this,â€￾ Brady said, half laughing as Ryan returned to the table.

“Why don’t we take this upstairs?â€￾ Ryan asked. “It beats the dinner table.â€￾

“To the sunroom?â€￾ Erin asked. Lilly saw she was also reaching under the table.

“Yes, the sunroom,â€￾ Ryan said.

Neither Erin nor Lilly bothered to put their shoes on before heading upstairs. In the sunroom, Lilly took one lounge chair while Erin took the other. Ryan and Brady took chairs across the room, but Lilly noticed that Ryan opted for the chair with the better view of her feet. Lilly rubbed her feet together and smiled at Ryan as he and Brady chatted.

Erin sat on her lounge chair and contemplated putting her shoes on, but finally swung her legs up onto the chair. “We need to head out soon, but I’m tired of these shoes,â€￾ Erin confessed, rubbing her soles against the chair.

“I might wait until I can get my flats back,â€￾ Lilly said. She stretched the toes of her right foot against her left heel, as if she were trying to pry off an invisible slipper.

“I can’t get over your tights,â€￾ Erin said. “I really need to get some.â€￾

“I sometimes wear them with these white lace flats,â€￾ Lilly said. “Or crochet flats. But Ryan likes when I wear them with a Mary Jane heel.â€￾ She kept prying at her heel with her right toes. The sun was baking her feet, and she loved the warmth. “Ryan just loves them.â€￾

“Brady’s indifferent,â€￾ Erin said, rubbing her toes against the arch of her right foot. “But I always figured Ryan was a foot guy.â€￾

“How did you know?â€￾ Lilly asked. She crossed her ankles and rubbed her crossed right ankle against her left.

“We were at a family wedding,â€￾ Erin said. “I was still in college so I never wore heels, and my shoes were killing me. I went to sit down and take them off, and I remember noticing that Ryan was always looking over at my table. He came over to chat while everyone was dancing. But I caught him staring at my feet a few times. He wasn’t very discreet about it then.â€￾

“He’s only a little more discreet now,â€￾ Lilly said, laughing. “We were at my nonprofit’s holiday party. I was wearing these four-inch heels and the insole started to come apart, and my feet were killing me. So naturally I started complaining to him.â€￾

“Well, that’s unfair to him,â€￾ Erin said.

“I had no idea!â€￾ Lilly said. “But I got a foot massage out of it in the middle of the party. And afterward at the coffee shop.â€￾

“And a boyfriend out of the whole thing.â€￾

“Which means foot rubs any time I ask for them,â€￾ Lilly said, glancing across the room, rubbing her feet against one another as Ryan looked over.

“Best thing ever,â€￾ Erin said, sighing as she rubbed her shimmery stockinged feet together. Lilly really wanted a pair of Wolfords now.

“Pretty much,â€￾ Lilly said, smiling.

Ryan and Brady, their conversation falling quiet on the other side of the room, went back downstairs, leaving Lilly and Erin alone in the sunroom. The girls talked for a little while longer. Erin eventually asked to try Lilly’s slingbacks on, which she did, taking a few steps around the sunroom. Lilly rubbed one of Erin’s glossy tan heels with her toes, but decided she preferred being shoeless a little longer. “They’re not that uncomfortable,â€￾ Erin chided as she kicked off Lilly’s slingbacks.

“It’s not your shoes, it’s my feet,â€￾ Lilly said, standing up and kneading her toes into the carpet.

“You really don’t like shoes,â€￾ Erin said, laughing as she slipped her own heels back on.

“It’s not that,â€￾ Lilly said, blushing. She lowered her voice. “I just really want Ryan to rub my feet right now.â€￾

“Ooooh,â€￾ Erin said, reading between the lines. “Or maybe when you get home?â€￾

“Well, yeah,â€￾ Lilly said, smiling as she reached down to pick up her slingbacks.

“Lucky girl,â€￾ Erin said, laughing.

The two girls headed downstairs, where Ryan was actually giving a couple uncles and aunts hugs. Ryan glanced at the stairs and smiled. “Lilly,â€￾ he said. “Good timing. I was wondering if we should head out soon.â€￾ He paused. “So we can get to your parents’ and all.â€￾

“Sure,â€￾ Lilly said, playing along. Her parents were hours north, but no one else in the room knew that.

As Ryan said some more goodbyes, Lilly walked around the couch and found her purse, set next to her empty flats. She picked up her ballet flats and inspected the soles, making sure there was no grass stuck to them. Surprisingly, they were clean. She could easily have worn them around the house. But as she wiggled her toes, she was glad she hadn’t.

Lilly carefully fit her slingbacks into her purse and slipped her soft feet into the ballet flats. The flats felt uncompromisingly stiff and pinchy in her toes. Lilly considered walking to the car in her stockinged feet, but the shoes would make her feet feel even better when they ultimately came off on the ride home. There was a little thrill to an uncomfortable shoe, even a flat.

After saying goodbyes to Erin and Ryan’s sisters and Ryan’s dad, Ryan’s mother opted to walk them to the front door. “I’m glad you got to come down, Lilly,â€￾ she said as they worked through the kitchen and dining room again. “It’s a pleasure and you’re quite a sweet girl.â€￾

“Aww, thank you,â€￾ Lilly said. “It was a pleasure meeting you, too.â€￾

“Hopefully you’ll be back soon,â€￾ Ryan’s mother added.

“I hope so too,â€￾ Lilly said.

As they stood in the foyer hugging and kissing, Lilly noticed there were some things littered on the floor by the stairs. She looked down and saw a few pairs of sneakers from some of the little cousins who had shown up since they got there. Some of the kids had gone upstairs to the playroom overlooking the water. Among the shoes by the stairs, there was a pair of shiny white Mary Jane-style shoes. Lilly smiled.

After one more hug and kiss, Ryan and Lilly strolled out to Ryan’s BMW, gleaming in the sunlight. Ryan opened the door for Lilly, who slipped into the passenger seat gracefully. Lilly wasted no time in slipping off the ballet flats, folding her right foot under her left thigh by the time Ryan climbed in the driver’s seat. Ryan looked over at Lilly, and Lilly just grinned as she wiggled her toes. “Hi, honey,â€￾ she said with a smile.

Ryan and Lilly drove back to the city, the roads mostly empty while people gathered with their own families. The two talked about Ryan’s family, about Lilly’s chat with Erin, about Ryan’s conversation with Brady. Lilly called her parents from the car to wish them a Happy Easter. And, of course, Ryan rubbed Lilly’s right foot as they drove north.

Before long, they were back at Ryan’s building, never even having discussed where they were going. Lilly slipped her flats back on and gathered her purse and coat as they got out of the car. The building lobby was quiet as Ryan and Lilly walked through and stepped into an open and waiting elevator.

In the elevator, Ryan smiled at Lilly as he pressed the button for his floor. “Thanks for coming with me today,â€￾ he said.

“Of course,â€￾ Lilly said. “Thanks for introducing me to your family.â€￾ Lilly slipped off her right flat and rubbed her foot on Ryan’s ankle.

Ryan smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed them,â€￾ he said, reaching his arm around to Lilly’s waist and rubbing her side and hip. Lilly felt Ryan’s fingers trace over the purple satin ribbon she wore as a belt, finding the top waistband of her tights under the fabric of her dress. Lilly trembled ever slightly as she leaned in toward Ryan, still balancing on her left foot as her right toes caressed Ryan’s ankle.

“They were really nice,â€￾ Lilly finally said. She felt Ryan’s hand glide down her hip and to the back of her thigh, and as he rested it there, Lilly stood on her tiptoes on her left foot, the back of her shoe popping from her stockinged heel. On her tiptoes, though, Lilly felt out of balance, so she returned her right foot to her shoe, landing her toes on the sole of the empty flat as she now stood leaning into Ryan. Ryan pulled Lilly closer to him, but as he felt Lilly searching for grip in her shoes, he instead shifted his body closer to hers, allowing her to find her balance on her tiptoes.

The elevator glided to a stop at Ryan’s floor and the door slid open. Lilly, still balancing on tiptoes standing in her shoes, slid her toes forward, her heels crushing down the backs of her ballet flats. She looked up at Ryan and smiled as he held the door for her. And after she stepped into the hallway, Ryan emerged from the elevator, clasped his hands around Lilly’s waist and leaned down to kiss her. Lilly slipped her right foot from her flat, catching her toes on the crushed back of the shoe before sliding her foot back in.

Ryan and Lilly started walking down the hall toward Ryan’s apartment door. “You know, when we were in the sunroom after dinner,â€￾ Ryan said, “I sort of wished we had the house to ourselves.â€￾

Lilly wrapped her free arm around Ryan’s waist as they walked, leaning into him. “It took you that long?â€￾ she asked.

Ryan kissed Lilly’s forehead as they walked. “Well, maybe not,â€￾ he said.

“It didn’t feel like it,â€￾ Lilly said, smiling.

“Oh, yeah,â€￾ Ryan said, blushing as he unlocked the door to his apartment.

Lilly stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed Ryan as he swung the apartment door open. There was a chair just inside the door, and Lilly reached in mid-kiss to drop her purse and coat on the chair. “That’s better,â€￾ she said, turning herself toward Ryan and reaching up to clasp both her hands behind Ryan’s neck. Ryan hugged Lilly and leaned down, and the two embraced in a kiss. Lilly stretched up on her tiptoes, stepped out of her ballet flats, and kicked back her right foot, curling her toes as they kissed.

Ryan stepped forward a bit, nudging Lilly to take a step or two back into the apartment. As they made their way inside, Ryan tripped briefly and looked down to see Lilly’s empty flats. “I feel like this has happened before,â€￾ Ryan said, still hugging Lilly.

“They can stay outside,â€￾ Lilly said, smiling as she tiptoed backward into Ryan’s apartment.

Ryan smiled back and leaned in to continue their embrace as he nudged the door shut, leaving two lavender ballet flats on the welcome mat behind them.

--

As always, comments are appreciated!

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Don't forget the hard walkways in between tables. I can hear the clicking now... Funny thing is, someone would decry it as demeaning to women and horribly sexist and dated. Meanwhile no one really seems to care about the proliferation of breastaurants...even considering that there are apparently eno...

Best as I can tell, and maybe someone can correct me as needed...it seems to be a late-night French TV show where pretty, well-dressed girls just read fiction for whatever insomniacs happen to be tuned in. The shoeplay/shoes-off moments seem to be more serendipity than intentional, though obviously ...