I still wasn’t ready to tell Fiona how fond of her feet I was.The task became absorbing beyond all pretence of washing. Fiona didn’t mind, though....I could see she was enjoying my fingers learning her shape, scratching and softening the bits of dry, hard skin on her heel, and running all over her sole, seeking to please her. A greedy part of myself wished to do this outside the bath. Her feet were rather clean just from dipping in the hot water, and more so as I applied the soap, and I wanted to. ‘I did it for you but you know I think it makes me look old’ I replied. ‘Yes, but this makes up for it Grey Beard’ she said grabbing my semi-erect cock. ‘He still looks young.’ ‘Je t’ame’ I said kissing her again. ‘Je t’ame’ she replied with a smile of anticipation. Then came the dance. Our dance. I can’t even remember when it started but I remember how. It had always been one of my favorite poems but then I met her and suddenly I understood it in a whole new light. The words rang in my ears. More

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