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"Hi. How's my favorite checker?" I asked.

I'm sure some men would have laughed at me and the way I thought of her as sexy. She was pudgy, with a little extra roll of fat around her middle and a small bulge below the waist line of her jeans. She obviously had small boobs, although her uniform shirts always hid them well. However she also had a great shape in the seat of those jeans and that always made me look twice... and then again and once more too.

"Good," she said. "Except my feet are killing me. I can't wait until I get off." Loren was always pleasant and talkative, unlike a lot of clerks in the area, and we had talked often.

"When is that?"

She glanced at the clock on the outer store wall. "Ten minutes. Just ten minutes. That's $25.98. Hey, I don't suppose you could give me a ride home, could you?"

"Sure. I'll meet you out front, okay?" I took the two little bags of groceries and headed for my car. After I put them in, I walked the 30 feet back to the entrance and waited until she came out, then showed her to my car.

She slumped into the passenger's side seat as I drove. She said it was only a couple of miles but her car was in the shop and her feet just hurt too much to walk it again.

"I'm pretty good at giving foot massages," I said. "Want one?"

"Are you kidding?" she replied. "Of course I do. Come on in," as I pulled into a driveway at her direction.

Wearily she climbed out and unlocked the door, then walked into the kitchen and plopped into a straight-backed chair. I pulled one up in front of her and, lifting her feet to my knees, took off her white sneakers and bobby socks.

I had barely touched her reddened feet when she began to moan. It was almost as if I was making love to her. Especially when I eased my thumb right up the center of each foot's sole or right along the base of each toe, she would moan and sigh and roll her head as if she were hot to trot. She tossed in a few words of encouragement like, "Oh, yes, that feels so-o-o-o good!"

For a while I worked on one foot and then the other with both hands. Then I worked on both at the same time with one thumb covering the sole of each foot. She seemed to like it all and I was thinking that it wasn't so bad for me either, except that I had gotten a raging hard-on watching and listening to her. Nevertheless I hid it and kept massaging... although the heels of her feet rested right in my crotch.

I'd been at it for a good quarter hour when she asked, "How about rubbing my calves, hon?"

I shifted my hands up the backs of her legs and ran my fingers along her taut calves but the heavy denim of her jeans made it hard to work. Still I tried.

But after a bit, she stood up and said, "Close your eyes and don't look."

When she sat back down, her jeans were on the floor and her legs, again propped on my knees, were bare. I couldn't help but let my eyes travel up her legs. She was wearing black bikini panties that covered her crotch and a small patch above it but not much else. Again my phallus jumped and pumped fresh blood into it's already engorged length.

I rubbed her calves, up one side and down the other. I spent time working around her ankles. I ran my hands up to her knees and very carefully worked around her kneecaps and rubbed lightly on the underside. After a bit, I noticed that every time my hands stroked up her calves, her knees moved just slightly further apart, until I was getting a good view of the crotch of her panties. In the process, she was also sliding slowly down in the chair as her bottom inched forward each time her knees moved.

She patted the tops of her thighs. "Feel how tense these muscles are. Can you do something with them?"

I felt of them and they were tight from standing on her feet all day. I began to rub them and slowly they started to relax but as they did, my hands seemed to naturally move more to her inner thighs. Was that my wishful thinking or really a natural result of her muscle soreness?

Her face, which was usually flushed so that she always appeared to have rosy cheeks, had become red all over. Finally she put a hand under each knee and lifted "Can you do anything for my hamstrings? They're really tight too."

The sight that I saw was almost more than I could stand. The curve of her pretty butt, where it joined her legs, the puffiness of her pussy hidden by the tiny bit of cloth, the white expanse of her upper legs raised in the air. I almost lost it. Instead I dropped to my knees and awkwardly began to massage the backs of her upper legs, working from her knees down toward her bottom, increasing the length of my strokes until... my fingers touched her crotch.