Ck Dress Socks Part 2

Write here your dreams, your stories, your experiences of footsie or other situations where a foot had been used to seduce

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Slacksnsocks

Ck Dress Socks Part 2

Post by Slacksnsocks »

Fifteen minutes went by in a surreal blur. J kept talking about her job and I kept staring at those silky thin charcoal gray socks. The top band of the sock on her crossed leg reached mid calf, and her slacks had ridden up to the point where there was now a solid four inches of skin contrasting with the dark sock below and the pale gray pants above. She kept her low cut Kenneth Cole loafer at a slight dangle, as I could see the beginning of her heel beginning to come out, but every now and then she clenched her toes to keep it on her foot.

"Your table is ready," the hostess exclaimed. I remember when J uncrossed her leg and put her shoe down to the floor, there was a low hollow sounding "clop" sound. We followed the hostess to what I was desperately hoping a booth seat, and I was relieved to see that we would be situated in a medium sized one toward the back of the restaurant. My heart was fluttering as we slid into the seats facing each other.

As we looked at the menu, J was making it a point to loudly play with her shoes under the table. The only drawback of the seat was that I really couldn't discreetly peer under the table at what I knew was the most magnificent shoeplay show I had ever been this close to. I think she realized that I couldn't actually see the action, so after a few minutes she scooched down a bit in her seat and rested her socked feet on the seat toward the wall beside me, her ankles crossed in a resting position. I was so excited that I could barely breath. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her gently rubbing her socks together, her toes on one foot sort of flexing and grazing the insole of her other. I couldn't stand it any longer, I had to touch the satiny glory that was six inches to my right. I put my hand around her ankle, and began to move it up her calf - I wanted to feel the transition between the glossy hose and her warm skin. As I did, I I could feel all those little wrinkles in the microfiber, where it was sort of over lapping itself, as the socks were not pulled all the way up tight. As my fingers slid across the elastic at the top of the sock, I noticed that the fabric was only about an eight of an inch thick. This surprised me, because these dress socks were fully opaque, no sheerness at all. As I pulled her crossed feet closer to my thigh, they slid effortlessly across the cushion, almost like they were covered in slippery soap. I could not play it cool any longer, I had to say something.

"I don't think I can take much more of this..." J looked up.from the menu and smiled wryly, "I'm sorry I keep droning on about work, maybe we should talk about something else?" I wondered if she really misunderstood or was just playing tongue and cheek. At that, the waiter came and took our drink orders. J ordered some tropical cocktail and I ordered a beer. When the server walked away, she lifted her feet and put them back toward the floor, and a moment later she was sitting on one foot while the other remained shoeless resting on one of the legs of the table. I could see her foot start to trace the metal contours of the table leg, slowly and deliberately. I know this because I had by this point thrown discretion to the wind.

A little while went by, the drinks came, we ordered food, and I could see that J was in a really good mood. She was getting a little squirmy in her seat, and I swear she was starting to put rhythmic pressure on her socked foot that was still nestled underneath.

"I really like these socks," she basically blurted out. My heart almost stopped, as she had been so coy about the whole thing since we got to the restaurant. All I could muster was, "what do you like about them?" She smirked and extended her leg out from underneath, putting both her legs parallel with the floor. She began to rub her feet together, pointing her toes in the air.

"Their smoothness, I love how they feel when they rub together." She shifted again, now moving back and sitting with her left ankle crossed on her right knee. "I love how slippery they are..." she began to say as she started moving both hands around on her left foot. As she was doing this, the waiter arrived with our food.

For the next 20.minutes we "ate." Honestly food was the last thing on my mind. J stayed shoeless with both feet on top of the metal leg of the table. Unconsciously I began to move my foot closer the hers. I was wearing a pair of suede black dress shoes, black ribbed socks, and nice black pleated pants. I slid my right foot forward slowly until I felt the metal table leg, making sure to tap it so J realized how close our feet were. Without any hesitation, she put her elegant microfiber sock on top of my shoe, running her toe up the laces. When she got to my sock, she flexed her leg upward so her toe was now under the my pant cuff. She lifted my trouser leg further, so that like her, my mid calf length dress socks were now exposed. J firmly planted her toes in the area about four inches below my knee, and with deliberate patience, ran her foot down my leg. When she got to the top of my sock, it's almost like the viscosity changed, as her silky toes slipped down the rest of my calf and ankle.

"See what I mean?" She asked.


Baloo_135
Posts: 319
Joined: Tue Nov 11, 2014 4:58 pm

Re: Ck Dress Socks Part 2

Post by Baloo_135 »

Slacksnsocks wrote: Thu Aug 26, 2021 10:43 pm Fifteen minutes went by in a surreal blur. J kept talking about her job and I kept staring at those silky thin charcoal gray socks. The top band of the sock on her crossed leg reached mid calf, and her slacks had ridden up to the point where there was now a solid four inches of skin contrasting with the dark sock below and the pale gray pants above. She kept her low cut Kenneth Cole loafer at a slight dangle, as I could see the beginning of her heel beginning to come out, but every now and then she clenched her toes to keep it on her foot.

"Your table is ready," the hostess exclaimed. I remember when J uncrossed her leg and put her shoe down to the floor, there was a low hollow sounding "clop" sound. We followed the hostess to what I was desperately hoping a booth seat, and I was relieved to see that we would be situated in a medium sized one toward the back of the restaurant. My heart was fluttering as we slid into the seats facing each other.

As we looked at the menu, J was making it a point to loudly play with her shoes under the table. The only drawback of the seat was that I really couldn't discreetly peer under the table at what I knew was the most magnificent shoeplay show I had ever been this close to. I think she realized that I couldn't actually see the action, so after a few minutes she scooched down a bit in her seat and rested her socked feet on the seat toward the wall beside me, her ankles crossed in a resting position. I was so excited that I could barely breath. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her gently rubbing her socks together, her toes on one foot sort of flexing and grazing the insole of her other. I couldn't stand it any longer, I had to touch the satiny glory that was six inches to my right. I put my hand around her ankle, and began to move it up her calf - I wanted to feel the transition between the glossy hose and her warm skin. As I did, I I could feel all those little wrinkles in the microfiber, where it was sort of over lapping itself, as the socks were not pulled all the way up tight. As my fingers slid across the elastic at the top of the sock, I noticed that the fabric was only about an eight of an inch thick. This surprised me, because these dress socks were fully opaque, no sheerness at all. As I pulled her crossed feet closer to my thigh, they slid effortlessly across the cushion, almost like they were covered in slippery soap. I could not play it cool any longer, I had to say something.

"I don't think I can take much more of this..." J looked up.from the menu and smiled wryly, "I'm sorry I keep droning on about work, maybe we should talk about something else?" I wondered if she really misunderstood or was just playing tongue and cheek. At that, the waiter came and took our drink orders. J ordered some tropical cocktail and I ordered a beer. When the server walked away, she lifted her feet and put them back toward the floor, and a moment later she was sitting on one foot while the other remained shoeless resting on one of the legs of the table. I could see her foot start to trace the metal contours of the table leg, slowly and deliberately. I know this because I had by this point thrown discretion to the wind.

A little while went by, the drinks came, we ordered food, and I could see that J was in a really good mood. She was getting a little squirmy in her seat, and I swear she was starting to put rhythmic pressure on her socked foot that was still nestled underneath.

"I really like these socks," she basically blurted out. My heart almost stopped, as she had been so coy about the whole thing since we got to the restaurant. All I could muster was, "what do you like about them?" She smirked and extended her leg out from underneath, putting both her legs parallel with the floor. She began to rub her feet together, pointing her toes in the air.

"Their smoothness, I love how they feel when they rub together." She shifted again, now moving back and sitting with her left ankle crossed on her right knee. "I love how slippery they are..." she began to say as she started moving both hands around on her left foot. As she was doing this, the waiter arrived with our food.

For the next 20.minutes we "ate." Honestly food was the last thing on my mind. J stayed shoeless with both feet on top of the metal leg of the table. Unconsciously I began to move my foot closer the hers. I was wearing a pair of suede black dress shoes, black ribbed socks, and nice black pleated pants. I slid my right foot forward slowly until I felt the metal table leg, making sure to tap it so J realized how close our feet were. Without any hesitation, she put her elegant microfiber sock on top of my shoe, running her toe up the laces. When she got to my sock, she flexed her leg upward so her toe was now under the my pant cuff. She lifted my trouser leg further, so that like her, my mid calf length dress socks were now exposed. J firmly planted her toes in the area about four inches below my knee, and with deliberate patience, ran her foot down my leg. When she got to the top of my sock, it's almost like the viscosity changed, as her silky toes slipped down the rest of my calf and ankle.

"See what I mean?" She asked.
God!!! I wish I was a fly on the wall for that exchange. The build up was nuts! I love that she started at the top of your toes and worked her way up. Style points. Also it adds that you were dressed G'd up. A good footsie be ruined if the guy is in Nike monarchs, while athletic socks, and jeans.

Epiloge time. What happened? Did she leave you at a high note and retract her foot? Did she go into your lap? Were you playing it cool or getting squirmy?
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