Mommy knows I love her feet which are small and slim with pretty little straight toes and bright red toenails. She likes to go barefoot when daddy's not around just to let me know that her legs and feet are bare for me. It's our naughty secret. She'll kick her shoes off and wiggle her toes luxuriously, smiling with amusement as I stare at them. At the weekend, when I take her a cup of coffee in bed, she'll be lying under the duvet naked with one little bare foot poking out provocatively. She'll be pretending to be asleep and I'll brush the sole of her foot with the tips of my fingers or tweak her big toe gently to get her attention. She'll feign waking up in surprise and sit up, coyly hiding her little breasts with the bedclothes but not so that I don't get a glimpse of their fleshy roundness and nipples. Sometimes, she lets me paint her toenails, making out that its a special treat although I know she loves me touching her feet. Her feet become mine and I can stroke and fondle them as much as I like, squeezing each of her toes in turn and exciting myself with the contrast between the silky skin on the top of her feet and the harder feel of their soles. Sometimes I try to kiss them but she giggles and pulls away and tells me I must behave. Before painting her toenails, I give her a footbath, kneading her feet in the hot soapy water until they are pink and shiny. Usually, she'll wear jeans or shorts and flicks through a fashion magazine while I work on her toes but sometimes it'll be a skirt and I get to see glimpses of her panties – always immaculate white cotton - as I move her feet and legs. The magazine means there is no eye contact between us so that I'm free to look up her skirt as much as I like. There was one occasion, and only one, when she wasn't wearing any panties at all. She behaved as if nothing was amiss and I didn't dare say or do anything to break the spell but I was riveted by seeing her slit with its plump shaved lips nestled at the apex of her thighs. My hands trembled as I slowly lacquered each toe in turn while my gaze returned constantly to her exposed genitals. I felt I would be unable to stop myself reaching under her skirt and touch her and feared what she might do or say. She solved things herself by suddenly putting down her magazine and saying we must finish because daddy would soon be home. As I say, she never showed herself to me like that again but it doesn't really matter because the image is burned on my memory.