Vicky's Toe Vixens
Copyright© 2025 by DonaldBelle
03 - Catherine
Erotica Sex Story: 03 - Catherine - Vicky is a single, attractive, lesbian woman in her mid 40s. As she plans for her early retirement, Vicky instead must find a new purpose in life. That purpose is feet. Join Vicky as she fulfills her lifelong obsession with feet. She embarks on a journey to seduce 100 different woman with the art of foot sex. Straight, gay, kinked or vanilla, Vicky's quest leads her to try and seduce them all... Vote for girls to return for the final foot orgy by commenting on your favourite girl's chapter!
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Consensual Lesbian BiSexual Fiction Vignettes FemaleDom Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Squirting Foot Fetish Leg Fetish
In the quiet hush of the university library, the demure Catherine hunched over her worn book, her glasses slipping down her nose as she lost herself in the pages. The wooden table she sat at was tucked in a secluded corner, surrounded by towering shelves that muffled the distant rustle of pages and fellow patrons discussing things in hushed tones.
She kicked off her flats absentmindedly, her bare feet flexing against the floorboards, her toes curling in the dim light filtering through the high windows.
Vicky decided that it was time for her to approach. With soft footsteps she made her way, closer and closer, and then there was the scrape of a chair across a hard floor. It cut through the silence in the room like a knife.
“I’m so sorry,” Vicky whispered, as she took a seat opposite Catherine. The reader glanced up at the new arrival, but didn’t say anything before returning her eyes to the book.
Across from her, Vicky watched her with what could only be described as a predatory gleam in her eyes. Vicky; the tall, confident woman with cropped brown hair, slung her leather jacket over her chair. She had been eyeing Catherine for weeks now. She had first clocked the shy bookworm with her messy bun and endless stacks of novels weeks ago, when she had first arrived at the university to give guest lectures. Their eyes had met in the corridors several times, and Vicky sensed that there was an opportunity for more, should she play her cards right.
She had gotten Catherine’s name from her class register. It may have been a brass move, perhaps, but a swift session of flirting with the English Literature professor had allowed Vicky a swift glance at the list of pupils. Since then, Vicky had checked the library every single day, thinking it would be a more reliable approach than hoping to bump into the girl again in the corridor one day.
It was a tactic that was now beginning to pay off, even if it had felt a little underhanded. All’s fair in love and war, Vicky thought.
Vicky placed a Moleskine notebook onto the table, along with two pens. After waiting what she felt was a suitable length of time, she quickly brushed one of the pens onto the floor.
“Oops,” she whispered.
Vicky slid off her chair silently, dropping to her knees beneath the table without a sound. She crawled forward slowly on all fours, her breath quickening at the sight of Catherine’s exposed bare feet. They were pale and slender, the soles slightly arched from hours of standing in the stacks, toes painted a faint pink that had chipped at the edges.
Vicky took a deep breath. She was tempted to pick up one of the flats and sniff it, but decided against it.
Catherine didn’t notice at first; she was too absorbed in her book, it seemed. But then she would have felt it; a warm hand wrapping around her ankle, firm and unyielding. Before she could gasp or pull away, Vicky’s fingers massaged upward, stroking the ball of her foot with deliberate pressure.
“Hi, are you OK?” Vicky called from under the table.
‘I’m sorry ... Who the hell are you!?’ Catherine whispered-yet-shouted, her voice barely audible but visibly flustered.
Vicky’s heart pounded as she glanced through the table legs and out around the empty library aisle. No one was near. She tightened her grip on the girl’s ankle, a silent command to stay put, and Catherine’s resistance melted under the intensity of the grip from below.
“I’ve been watching you,” Vicky said slowly, “and I think you’ve been watching me too.”
“I ... maybe ... but what are you doing?” Catherine had stopped pulling away, but she seemed visibly embarrassed.
“I’m going to do what I’ve been dreaming of doing for weeks,” Vicky explained, “and if you want me to stop, all you need to do is say so. But, I think you want this. I’ve seen it in your eyes.”
“W ... what if ... someone sees?” Catherine bleated.
“Nobody will see,” Vicky assured her, “you just keep reading your little book, this can be our secret.”
Vicky leaned in, her lips brushing the big toe first. She parted her mouth and sucked it inside, throating it so her tongue swirled around the pad with slow, wet laps. It seemed that Catherine had bit her lip to stifle a whimper. Vicky’s mouth worked greedily, drawing the toe deeper, sucking with rhythmic pulls that no doubt sent jolts straight to Catherine’s core.
“You like that, don’t you, my little bookworm?” Vicky asked.
Catherine was breathing heavily.
“Yes ... who ... what is your name?” Catherine replied, chest heaving.
“You can call me Vicky,”
She moved to the next toe, then the next, enveloping each one in the hot cavern of her mouth. Her teeth grazed lightly, nipping the sensitive skin between them, while her hand kneaded the heel, thumbs digging into the arch to coax out every hidden tension. Saliva coated Catherine’s foot, slick and warm, dripping down to her sole as Vicky lavished attention on the little toe last, flicking her tongue over it like it was a hard nipple or an engorged clit.
Catherine’s thighs clenched under the table, her skirt riding up as Vicky sensed arousal pooling between her legs. Vicky heard the book being dropped to the table above her, as if Catherine was using all of her concentration on fighting the urge to moan aloud. The library’s silence amplified every slurp and suck of Vicky’s wet mouth, the obscene sounds hidden only slightly by the table’s barrier.
Vicky pulled back just enough to blow cool air over the wet toes, watching them twitch in response. Then she dove back in, sucking two toes at once, her free hand sliding up Catherine’s calf, nails scraping lightly.
“Good girl,” Vicky murmured against the skin, voice muffled but commanding. “Let me worship these pretty feet while you pretend to read.”
Catherine’s breath caught momentarily; her pussy was surely throbbing now, Vicky hoped as her mouth claimed Catherine’s foot again, sucking harder, tongue probing every crease. Vicky peered up past Catherine’s lap and locked onto her prey’s flushed face, reveling in the way the bookworm squirmed, trapped in delicious sucking submission under the table’s shadow.