Chapter 2: Changes

It all began to fall in place with a foot massage. Yes, that's right. I said a foot massage. I'm quite well-known, to my female friends, for giving great foot massages. This is something that I do for a few reasons. One reason is that it's something that I enjoy. I don't exactly have a foot fetish (podophilia); however, I am a bit of a hedonist (but not in the strictest sense): I derive no small amount of pleasure from giving others pleasure. This may sound at odds with somebody who claims to be the kind of person who enjoys being in control and dominating situations and others. Nothing could be further from the truth. Everything in life is give and take. There are cycles to life. You may think you've cheated it, but it catches up to you. It always catches up to you. Besides, it was one of those life lessons I learned before I started reading Heinlein and learned of his quote "Rub her feet." A good foot rub is a fast track into a woman's good graces!

Okay, so that's one reason. Another reason is that I enjoy helping a friend, such as Jamie, relax and feel better after being on their feet all day. If you've ever had the pleasure of having somebody rub your feet after you've been on them all day long then you know just how good it feels and how much it relaxes your body. The final reason I will give for this is the fact that I find legs, especially calves, to be very sexy; more so when a woman is wearing stockings (garters are a plus, but not required), pantyhose look good but are a pain in the ass.

Jamie had come over this one evening, still in her work outfit, which was a black dress that stopped just above the knees, high heels and stockings or pantyhose, but with her long auburn hair down and mussed and looking unhappy. It was evident that she was very tired, her feet were sore, and apparently it was not a very good evening for her at all by the look of her. So, when she came in I asked if she could use a drink or anything else and she agreed that she could.

"I could really go for some of your rooibos caramel tea, and one of your fabulous foot rubs," she said, her voice pleading.

I looked at her and smiled, "Tell you what, you go make the tea for both of us and I'll give you the foot rub." She seemed about to say something but instead, nodded and smiled at me, stood up and went to make the tea.

She knew her way around my kitchen because of all the time that she spent here at my place. We got together here often with our various friends, some from the University, others not. She would often assist me with setting things up, or cleaning up after wards.

I could hear her put on the kettle and get out the tea service (which was a bit surprising to me) and various other sounds as she moved around the kitchen making preparations. Shortly after the water was ready she entered the room wearing a white apron, over her uniform, and had put her hair back up. She was carrying the full silver tea service left to me by my grandmother. She looked almost like a maid with the apron added.

I was rather surprised by this. I had, at times, asked her to do this but in the end I would usually end up making our tea and bring it out. So, as well as I thought I knew her, this threw me for a little bit of a loop. I mean, we were friends after all, and we often joked around quite a bit. But, when she had nights like the one tonight she was never in a joking mood and usually needed me to be a sounding board. Sometimes I felt more like a dartboard, honestly. Never stiff your servers and waitstaff. They work really hard for their tips and those tips make up over 50% of their income.