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Mani/Pedi free porn video
When I got home from University this summer and Mom asked me to help out at her nail salon she could not possibly have anticipated how that would turn out for me. It certainly was the farthest thing from my mind.
But a bit of back story. I was an only child whose Dad had died when I was thirteen. He had been an insurance salesman; Mom owned and operated a nail salon. Fortunately, being a believer in life insurance, Dad had purchased both mortgage and life insurance before he passed away. After he died, our house was paid for and Mom had a reasonable nest egg to supplement her salon income. We were able to live comfortably, if not extravagantly.
In my senior year I dated a classmate, Nancy Huggins, a petite blonde with an attractive figure. Although over the course of the year we had been intimate, we agreed after graduation that we would break up amicably as we planned to attend different colleges. While we had never discussed it, I am pretty sure Nancy’s Mom, if not both of her parents, knew we were having sex. Not long after our relationship began to get serious, her Mom had put her on the pill.
Nancy and I were each other’s first sexual partners, and our fumbling early attempts to figure things out would make either of us blush today, in a retelling. It did not take us long, however, to get the hang of things and within a short period of time we were fucking nearly every day, and enjoying a plentiful smorgasbord of variations.
Our usual love nest was Nancy’s home. Her parents worked, and thought we studied together in the afternoons. In truth, I would either stop over at her house before school for a quickie, or race over after school and have a more leisurely fuck-and-suck before her parents returned from their jobs. Sometimes both.
On weekends, I would generally hang out at Nancy’s and we would await the point in the day when her Dad would be at the golf course with his buddies and Mrs. Huggins would discreetly “go out for a while,” leaving us alone at the house. We made the most of those opportunities. When she got home, Nancy’s Mom would make a lot of noise if she did not see us downstairs or by the pool, and we would quickly pull ourselves together and make our appearance. Her Mom usually had a bit of a smirk on her face, I thought, and it seemed to me that she was enabling us in our promiscuous delights. She never said anything about it to me, however.
My Mom and I were always close, and even more so after Dad passed away. I had told her that Nancy and I were having sex, and it had not come as a surprise to her. She said that she assumed that it would happen before long, and was pleased that it had not happened until my senior year. Her primary concerns were that I treat Nancy with the respect that she deserved, and that we didn’t let our relationship interfere with our plans for college or life after high school. She was greatly relieved when I told her that Nancy was on the pill. Beyond that discussion, we did not really talk about it.
So much for the back story. As I mentioned, Mom asked me to help her at the salon. A couple of her employees had left on short notice, and would I help until she could find a new receptionist and another manicurist? I agreed willingly. Growing up, I had spent quite a bit time at the salon and was a familiar face for her regular customers, and I knew the routine. Mom had taught me how to do nails years ago, using herself as my victim until I had gained near professional skills. Because I was not licensed, I did not regularly treat customers, but on a rare occasion I had been called into service over the years. My friends kidded me about it in high school, but I had enjoyed working there and was never embarrassed by the teasing.
I had been helping out at the salon for a week or so when Mrs. Huggins came in. I should tell you a bit about her. She was only about eighteen years older than Nancy, and they looked so alike that if seen from a bit of distance it was difficult to tell them apart. Their heights and figures were identical. They wore their blonde hair in an identical cut. Close up, they were frequently mistaken for sisters, rather than Mother and daughter. To say that Mrs. Huggins was beautiful was not to give her her due.
It was later in the day, and some of the operators had left when Mrs. Huggins dropped in without an appointment. I was glad to see her, and she gave me an affectionate hug. She saw that we were still busy and asked if she could be fitted in. She said that if no one else was available, she would love for me to give her a mani/pedi as I had occasionally done at her home before I left for college. It was against the rules, but “rules are made to be broken,” she said, and I consented. I took her to the station farthest from the front window so as to be the least conspicuous from the street.
I set Mrs. Huggins up in one of the treatment chairs, filled the foot bath with warm, soapy water, and turned my attention to her manicure. As I worked, we caught up on each other’s lives in the last ten months. Nancy had decided to stay at school rather than coming home for the summer, to my disappointment. Mr. and Mrs. Huggins had separated shortly after Nancy left for school. They were spasmodically trying to work things out, but she was not optimistic about the likelihood of getting back together. “Too much water over the dam,” was her terse explanation. I expressed my regrets about that, and she thanked me.
By this time, I had pretty much concluded the manicure, and was massaging Mrs. Huggins’ arms. As I rubbed the lotion into the first arm, she closed her eyes and relaxed with a sigh. I worked the lotion into her hand and wrist, then worked my way up her arm toward her elbow. She turned her hand over and wrapped her fingers and thumb around one of my arms gently. I finished the first arm and moved my stool around to the other side of the treatment chair and began working on Mrs. Huggins’ other arm. Again she grasped one of my arms as I worked the lotion into her forearm. This time, she massaged back, squeezing and rubbing my arm gently as I rubbed hers. This was new behavior, and lewd thoughts leapt to my mind. I finished the arm massage, and turned my attention to her feet, hoping that my stirring penis was not obvious.
To be honest, I don’t remember many of the details of giving Mrs. Huggins her pedicure. I am just grateful I managed to finish it without damaging her feet. As I started on her first foot, taking it from the warm foot bath and setting it up on the edge to be dried and treated, Mrs. Huggins hitched her skirt up and I found myself staring up her dress at her bare pussy. She fluffed her skirt and spread her legs, and smiled at me. I must have had a flabbergasted expression on my face, and I am sure I turned six shades of red. I stumbled through the first foot, then turned my distracted attention to the second. As I lifted that foot from the warm bath and began to dry it, Mrs. Huggins scrunched further down in the chair, sliding her hips forward and further exposing herself to my gaze.
Her labia were engorged and puffy. Her pussy was open and moist. I tried, unsuccessfully, not to stare. When I looked up at her face Mrs. Huggins was licking her lips and staring at me through slitted eyes. Her nipples were stretching the thin fabric of her camisole top. And my cock was threatening to poke a hole in the sole of the foot upon which I was working.
“Okay,” I thought to myself, “Two can play this same game.” I squeezed an extra-large dollop of lotion into my hand and returned my attention to Mrs. Huggins’ first leg. I scooched my stool forward and set her foot in my lap. I started applying the lotion to her leg at the ankle and slid both hands slowly up her leg. I slid my hands up and down her leg, applying deep intermittent pressure. It took a long time for all of the lotion to be worked into Mrs. Huggins’ leg, and by the time I was done she was rocking her hips forward and backward suggestively and growling her pleasure. Her bare pussy now glistened as it winked at me. I imagined myself burying my face in it and finishing the job with my tongue. I was aware of nothing else, and no one else, in the shop.
I set Mrs. Huggins’ first leg aside, took another batch of lotion, and set her second foot in my lap. She wiggled her foot against my cock. Leaning forward, she said softly, “Nancy said you were big, but I had no idea just how big.” In reply I began applying the lotion to the second leg. “I think that you better stop, or we will be the talk of the town,” Mrs. Huggins said. “Perhaps you should come over for a swim, and we can continue our conversation.”
“What else did Nancy tell you?”
“Why don’t I save that for tomorrow? Can you come over around 3:00?”
I didn’t sleep well that night, but when I did sleep I had some marvelous dreams.
But a bit of back story. I was an only child whose Dad had died when I was thirteen. He had been an insurance salesman; Mom owned and operated a nail salon. Fortunately, being a believer in life insurance, Dad had purchased both mortgage and life insurance before he passed away. After he died, our house was paid for and Mom had a reasonable nest egg to supplement her salon income. We were able to live comfortably, if not extravagantly.
In my senior year I dated a classmate, Nancy Huggins, a petite blonde with an attractive figure. Although over the course of the year we had been intimate, we agreed after graduation that we would break up amicably as we planned to attend different colleges. While we had never discussed it, I am pretty sure Nancy’s Mom, if not both of her parents, knew we were having sex. Not long after our relationship began to get serious, her Mom had put her on the pill.
Nancy and I were each other’s first sexual partners, and our fumbling early attempts to figure things out would make either of us blush today, in a retelling. It did not take us long, however, to get the hang of things and within a short period of time we were fucking nearly every day, and enjoying a plentiful smorgasbord of variations.
Our usual love nest was Nancy’s home. Her parents worked, and thought we studied together in the afternoons. In truth, I would either stop over at her house before school for a quickie, or race over after school and have a more leisurely fuck-and-suck before her parents returned from their jobs. Sometimes both.
On weekends, I would generally hang out at Nancy’s and we would await the point in the day when her Dad would be at the golf course with his buddies and Mrs. Huggins would discreetly “go out for a while,” leaving us alone at the house. We made the most of those opportunities. When she got home, Nancy’s Mom would make a lot of noise if she did not see us downstairs or by the pool, and we would quickly pull ourselves together and make our appearance. Her Mom usually had a bit of a smirk on her face, I thought, and it seemed to me that she was enabling us in our promiscuous delights. She never said anything about it to me, however.
My Mom and I were always close, and even more so after Dad passed away. I had told her that Nancy and I were having sex, and it had not come as a surprise to her. She said that she assumed that it would happen before long, and was pleased that it had not happened until my senior year. Her primary concerns were that I treat Nancy with the respect that she deserved, and that we didn’t let our relationship interfere with our plans for college or life after high school. She was greatly relieved when I told her that Nancy was on the pill. Beyond that discussion, we did not really talk about it.
So much for the back story. As I mentioned, Mom asked me to help her at the salon. A couple of her employees had left on short notice, and would I help until she could find a new receptionist and another manicurist? I agreed willingly. Growing up, I had spent quite a bit time at the salon and was a familiar face for her regular customers, and I knew the routine. Mom had taught me how to do nails years ago, using herself as my victim until I had gained near professional skills. Because I was not licensed, I did not regularly treat customers, but on a rare occasion I had been called into service over the years. My friends kidded me about it in high school, but I had enjoyed working there and was never embarrassed by the teasing.
I had been helping out at the salon for a week or so when Mrs. Huggins came in. I should tell you a bit about her. She was only about eighteen years older than Nancy, and they looked so alike that if seen from a bit of distance it was difficult to tell them apart. Their heights and figures were identical. They wore their blonde hair in an identical cut. Close up, they were frequently mistaken for sisters, rather than Mother and daughter. To say that Mrs. Huggins was beautiful was not to give her her due.
It was later in the day, and some of the operators had left when Mrs. Huggins dropped in without an appointment. I was glad to see her, and she gave me an affectionate hug. She saw that we were still busy and asked if she could be fitted in. She said that if no one else was available, she would love for me to give her a mani/pedi as I had occasionally done at her home before I left for college. It was against the rules, but “rules are made to be broken,” she said, and I consented. I took her to the station farthest from the front window so as to be the least conspicuous from the street.
I set Mrs. Huggins up in one of the treatment chairs, filled the foot bath with warm, soapy water, and turned my attention to her manicure. As I worked, we caught up on each other’s lives in the last ten months. Nancy had decided to stay at school rather than coming home for the summer, to my disappointment. Mr. and Mrs. Huggins had separated shortly after Nancy left for school. They were spasmodically trying to work things out, but she was not optimistic about the likelihood of getting back together. “Too much water over the dam,” was her terse explanation. I expressed my regrets about that, and she thanked me.
By this time, I had pretty much concluded the manicure, and was massaging Mrs. Huggins’ arms. As I rubbed the lotion into the first arm, she closed her eyes and relaxed with a sigh. I worked the lotion into her hand and wrist, then worked my way up her arm toward her elbow. She turned her hand over and wrapped her fingers and thumb around one of my arms gently. I finished the first arm and moved my stool around to the other side of the treatment chair and began working on Mrs. Huggins’ other arm. Again she grasped one of my arms as I worked the lotion into her forearm. This time, she massaged back, squeezing and rubbing my arm gently as I rubbed hers. This was new behavior, and lewd thoughts leapt to my mind. I finished the arm massage, and turned my attention to her feet, hoping that my stirring penis was not obvious.
To be honest, I don’t remember many of the details of giving Mrs. Huggins her pedicure. I am just grateful I managed to finish it without damaging her feet. As I started on her first foot, taking it from the warm foot bath and setting it up on the edge to be dried and treated, Mrs. Huggins hitched her skirt up and I found myself staring up her dress at her bare pussy. She fluffed her skirt and spread her legs, and smiled at me. I must have had a flabbergasted expression on my face, and I am sure I turned six shades of red. I stumbled through the first foot, then turned my distracted attention to the second. As I lifted that foot from the warm bath and began to dry it, Mrs. Huggins scrunched further down in the chair, sliding her hips forward and further exposing herself to my gaze.
Her labia were engorged and puffy. Her pussy was open and moist. I tried, unsuccessfully, not to stare. When I looked up at her face Mrs. Huggins was licking her lips and staring at me through slitted eyes. Her nipples were stretching the thin fabric of her camisole top. And my cock was threatening to poke a hole in the sole of the foot upon which I was working.
“Okay,” I thought to myself, “Two can play this same game.” I squeezed an extra-large dollop of lotion into my hand and returned my attention to Mrs. Huggins’ first leg. I scooched my stool forward and set her foot in my lap. I started applying the lotion to her leg at the ankle and slid both hands slowly up her leg. I slid my hands up and down her leg, applying deep intermittent pressure. It took a long time for all of the lotion to be worked into Mrs. Huggins’ leg, and by the time I was done she was rocking her hips forward and backward suggestively and growling her pleasure. Her bare pussy now glistened as it winked at me. I imagined myself burying my face in it and finishing the job with my tongue. I was aware of nothing else, and no one else, in the shop.
I set Mrs. Huggins’ first leg aside, took another batch of lotion, and set her second foot in my lap. She wiggled her foot against my cock. Leaning forward, she said softly, “Nancy said you were big, but I had no idea just how big.” In reply I began applying the lotion to the second leg. “I think that you better stop, or we will be the talk of the town,” Mrs. Huggins said. “Perhaps you should come over for a swim, and we can continue our conversation.”
“What else did Nancy tell you?”
“Why don’t I save that for tomorrow? Can you come over around 3:00?”
I didn’t sleep well that night, but when I did sleep I had some marvelous dreams.
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