A Train Encounter Pt. 09
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A Train Encounter Pt. 09
The following morning was rough. I wasn’t used to functioning on four hours of sleep anymore and really had to drag myself out of bed. My ribs were reminding me of what happened last night every time I moved, but I loved it. Every little twinge of pain made me smile. Plus it wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, so despite being wiped out it was a good morning.
When I left the house it was a dreary, stifling day; overcast, and easily as hot and humid as the day before. I got on the train and found Tracy in the back seat. One of the nice things about taking the train in the summer is that so many people are on vacation that you can often have an empty row or two in front of you. She was dressed all in black; tank top, short skirt, stockings, and her punk boots. I said hi and told her that she wasn’t her usual ray of sunshine self.
She just laughed and said “Well happy Wednesday to you too”, and nudged me with her elbow.
The car we were in was about half empty, so we could talk without trying to whisper. She leaned towards me, sniffed, and then winked. “How are you feeling this morning. A little sore I bet.” and then poked me in the chest with her finger.
Then it was my turn to laugh, telling her “Well I did shower this morning so sniffing won’t do you any good, regardless of how hard you tried to grind the smell into my face, and I feel fine. Kind of like if I did a few too many push-ups, a little bit sore, but in a good way.”
For some reason that surprised her, and she said she figured I would feel like I was hit by a truck. I reminded her that she wasn’t the first woman to walk on me, and she certainly wasn’t the heaviest or roughest. Well that piqued her interest and started digging for information. She knew that my ex and some old girlfriends had walked on me, but I had never gone into any detail about it.
I wasn’t budging on it, so she changed the subject, saying “I bet none of their feet were as bad as mine were yesterday though.” I just shrugged, so she slapped me on the shoulder saying “Oh bullshit! You’re so lying. You’re just trying to aggravate me now.”
I told her that I meant it. Last night was incredible. Definitely one of the most amazing nights ever when it came to my fetishes, but that I had some interesting girlfriends in my past. One in particular was quite a bit heavier, rougher, and yes, her feet smelled worse sometimes. She absolutely did not believe me and kept pressing for information so I finally gave in and told her about the best fetish night I had before meeting her…
I moved to Arizona for a few years a while ago. While I was there I had a girlfriend I’d been dating for a little over a year. (I’ll call her J since this is out in the public), J wasn’t a small girl, 5’8″ tall with size 9 or 10 shoes depending on the brand. She was very toned, barely an ounce of fat on her, with most of her weight in her legs and butt which were thick and strong but not overly muscular. She admitted to weighing about 160 lbs but was probably heavier than that. I’m only 5’7″ myself and was about 165 at the time, so she was a little taller than me, at least as heavy, and did not have a light step.”
Tracy stopped me and asked “What do you mean by ‘a light step'”
“It’s hard to explain. Some women just step harder than others. Not stomping or anything, it just kind of feels like they put more weight on their feet somehow. My ex was tiny, but i felt it more tandoğan escort when she walked on me than a dancer I used to date who was twenty pounds heavier”
“Hmm.. ok. Maybe because the dancer carried herself differently. So do I have a heavy or light step?”
I agreed with her thought about how women hold themselves differently, and told her that she certainly wasn’t a dancer, but her step was more on the light side. For some reason that made her happy, so I continued.
“Anyway, J was both physically heavy and had a very heavy step. She had never walked on anyone before meeting me either, but after her initial fears she really started to enjoy it. Sometimes I think she was more into it than me, and she really liked to push my limits, so when she was in that kind of mood I felt it for the next few days. J grew up on a farm in Illinois, and went home for a week when she turned 22. She was the funky oddball in her town. Like the edgy girl from an 80’s teen movie in a town of jeans and flannel shirts.”
“Her friends wanted to go out drinking and clubbing the night before she flew back to AZ so J dug up some old clothes from high school and hit the town. Thigh high black stockings, a loose flowered top, short green skirt that just reached the tops of her stockings, and these old knee high, lace up biker boots that she wore almost every day in school. They looked kind of like really tall Doc Maarten’s except that they had a thick, chunky heel that was about 2″ high and heavy treads that were pretty worn down. I know that’s what she wore because she still had them on when I picked her up from the airport in Phoenix the next night. She wasn’t a big drinker, but was out dancing to trance music until 3:00 and then fell asleep at her friend’s house. She woke up late so drove home, packed her stuff, and headed to the airport. At least that’s what she later told me. To this day I feel that she wore them for almost two full days like that to laugh at my reaction when I took those boots off her.”
I couldn’t tell if Tracy was trying to hold back a gasp or a giggle until she let out a shaky “Oh my God” and laughed a little bit.
“Yeah, no kidding! It was late evening when we got to her apartment, around 8:00. J had booked a cheap flight so had a 3 hour layover in the middle of the trip. She told me she was sore from being on planes all day, needed to work the stiffness out of her legs, and thought the best way to do that would be to dance on me. I couldn’t argue with that so I lay down while she put on a New Order cd. She made a show of stomping over to me with those heavy boots before stepping up onto my back and starting to dance. After a few songs she got off and told me to roll over. As soon as I was on my back she stepped up onto my chest and started dancing again. She barely looked at me, but used my reactions to slowly get rougher. She bounced a few times and laughed when I grunted. A couple minutes later she bounced harder and stood on her toes before dropping back onto her heels. When the last song came on she told me that if I wanted to give up, now was the time. I stupidly told her to do her worst, so she spent the whole song bouncing on my chest and finished up with a few jumps. Both feet, getting a few inches of air, and pounding back down on my chest.”
All Tracy could say was “Damnnn!”
“Indeed! I was spent. J just stood on my chest, breathing hard and smiling down at me. “Whew, that tunalı escort was fun. Why do you look so wiped out? I did all the work”. She rested her right boot on my face, and asked me to unlace it. Getting it untied took a while but I got it done. She moved it back to my chest without taking off the boot, and put the left one on my face to untie. When I got that one done she told me to hold onto the heels of her boots. When I did she pulled her right foot out, and put it down right in the middle of my face. At this point I didn’t know about her going out dancing. I figured her feet would be pretty smelly but had no idea what I was in for.”
“I coughed, trying not to gag from the incredible stink, the fact that her foot was pretty much dripping sweat through her stockings, and that all of her 160+ lbs was one the one foot compressing my chest. J slid that sweaty, stocking foot around my face for a minute before stopping with it across my face, arch over my nose, toes on my eyes, and her heel on my mouth. She shifted forward until she was standing with all of her weight on that foot, and pushed the toes of her other foot onto my nose, curling them around it so every breath was nothing but warm, wet, foot funk. I was obviously struggling because she started to laugh, which made her bounce a little, and asked if I was ready to give. As much as it was hurting, I said “no” to which J responded “good”. I could hear the smile in her voice as I felt her big toe touch my mouth and push until it popped through my lips. The taste filled my mouth as she kept pushing, wiggling her toes and twisting her foot until all five toes were in my mouth, and then she pushed a little more just for fun. At this point I was gasping through my nose and squirming on the ground while she just stood on my face with one sweaty foot stuffed in my mouth.”
“After what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, J stepped back onto my chest and I sucked in fresh air for the first time in a while, rubbing my face where her foot had been crushing it. She laughed, telling me how much fun that was while pulling off her right stocking. She dropped it onto my face when she got it off and started pulling off the other one, rocking on her right foot when she lifted the left to get that stocking off before dropping that on on my face too. She just stood there on my chest for a minute, my guess is that she was deciding what to do next, and then started rubbing her stockings around on my face. Eventually she spread them out with her toes, leaving the foot part of them on my face. My chest hurt like hell with all of her weight on one foot, shifting to keep her balance while she arranged her stockings on me. When she was finally satisfied with the placement, she grabbed the foot part of both stockings with her toes, pushed them into my mouth, and then stepped down on my mouth to make sure I couldn’t spit them out.”
I swear, if this was a cartoon Tracy’s eyes would be popping out of her head and her jaw would be on the floor. “I can’t believe you survived all that!”
I laughed a little, agreeing that I could hardly believe it myself sometimes when I look back on it. “So now you see what I mean. She was definitely rougher.”
“Um… yeah. So was that the end? I mean you’re alive and telling me about it so she has to have stopped.”
“Yeah, she stepped off me after a minute or two and sat down heavily on my chest with her legs stretched ankara türbanlı escort out the the side and her hand on my mouth to keep her stockings in there. She sat there catching her breath for a few minutes, then pushed on my chest and mouth to lift herself up and slide up to sit in the same position but on my face. After a minute or two of just sitting there smashing my face I felt her start tugging at my belt. I wiggled around to help get my pants to a place where she could get her hand…”
I lost track of the situation as I remembered that night, but suddenly remembered where I was and who I was talking to. Tracy just sat there staring at me and I said “Well, she just stayed there until I was done.”
When I finished telling her about that crazy evening I told her it was probably the most extreme night we had, but that there were others that were close. I was worried that bringing up the hand job at the end may have gone too far, so told her that it was of course something that happened because J and I were in a sexual relationship at the time and had nothing to do with she and I. She blinked a couple of times and seemed to come out of her daze, saying “Well yeah, you were dating”, and then starting asked questions about whether it hurt too much when J stood on my face, how much worse her feet were, silly things like that.
When we were getting off the train she told me not to put my phone on silent today. I answered “um, ok… anything wrong?” She answered “No, nothing is wrong. It’s Wednesday.”
Then she said “The next time might be a lot sooner than you think.” Then she winked and kind of skipped away giggling to herself.
It took me a while to get my head into my work. That giggle and the thought of her walking on me again kept stealing my concentration. Last night was the first time Tracy had trampled anyone as far as I knew, and now she’s hinting about doing it again tonight? After telling her about that night with J? I was sure that she was going to get weird about it after letting it all sink in for a while. I should have stopped before the part when J sat on me. I was really hoping that talking about the sexual side of it didn’t ruin anything.
When I was getting ready for lunch I got a text from Tracy
“JUMPED!! WITH BOOTS???!!!”
I Had been wondering if she caught onto that. I wasn’t sure whether to bring it up or not but figured what the hell. I laughed about her text for a minute and gave her a one word answer
There was silence for a few minutes, then some text bubbles to show she was answering, then nothing. This happened a few times so it seemed she was responding and deleting. Finally her response came through
“Well I guess I have to step up my game, lol, if I’m going to me numero uno :)”
That was immediately followed with two more texts, the first saying “Step up my game”, and the second just a whole line of laughing smiley faces.
To say I was relieved would be an understatement. In fact the level of relief that came over me was only a little less than the level of excitement. Tracy didn’t seem weirded out at all. Needless to say, my concentration was shot for the rest of the day. Visions of her sweaty feet in black stockings pulling out of her Madden boots had been popping into my head all morning anyway, but now the thought of what might be running through her mind took it to a whole new level..
I couldn’t wait for the day to end, and my head was spinning when I went into the subway. When I finally reached Hoboken and got above ground I saw a text from Tracy. “You caught a break. Going to Dos Caminos for drinks with some work people, don’t wait up, lol. See ya tomorrow.”
Damn it all!
To be continued…
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