My wife Beth and I take our fitness very seriously. The body is a temple of the Lord, and so we exercise regularly, I run three miles each morning. Not to be prideful, but the result shows in our trim, athletic figures, and I am glad to say that many people at the church we attend take a similar view of respecting the Lord's creation this way-- in fact I belong to a running group with some of the other lay pastors.

I am particularly proud of my little Beth this way, because it is not what you would say of most of her family-- that they respect the body either in terms of health, or in terms of behavior. This was brought home to me when her sister Jodie came to stay with us for a few weeks. Facially Jodie resembles my wife, except that unlike Beth, she is somewhat overweight-- not obese, like so many of the women you see around here, but definitely well-padded, with a much larger chest, broader behind, and rounder face than my Bethie.

One might think that as a result she would dress more demurely, to hide her figure, but in fact the opposite is quite true-- Jodie wears hip-hugging jeans (and there's a lot there for the jeans to hug), low necklines showing her ample cleavage, and as I noticed the other day, she's often found in high heels (which I was shocked to hear her describe to my wife as "f-- me pumps"), perching her behind up higher and making it move suggestively with each step.

Now it may seem as if I had no business putting so much thought into the manner of my wife's sister's dress. I was certain that it was not because of any kind of sexual attraction-- how could I be attracted to someone overweight like Jodie when a beautiful, toned, athletic woman like Beth was my wife? It's true, there might be some momentary carnal attraction in her large bosom, compared to which Beth was quite flat, and in her rounded, jiggly thighs, so much in contrast to Beth's lean, almost masculine flanks, but that was just lust in my heart, not a reflection of my true feelings, which remained focused on my beautiful, Lord-given bride.

It was the "F.M." pumps that I found myself thinking about, however-- again, not because I was lustful toward Jodie in any way, but I was struck by the effect of the high heels. Beth always wears repectable flat shoes, and I love her for that, but this was perhaps the first time I really understood how heels set off a woman's leg, stressing the definition of the calf (and I was surprised to see more muscle definition on Jodie there than I expected) and making the whole leg seem shapely. Perhaps Beth would like a pair like that, just to wear at home, or on vacation-- with her far more muscular calves she would certainly show off the same effect. Though it wouldn't really be the same as it was with Jodie, where there was such a tapering effect from the round bottom down to the calves, the ankle, the tiny pink toes sticking out at the end, each one dotted with bright red nail polish. Many times I found myself gazing at those toes, the chubby little foot inside the shoe, the gentle curve sloping upward, up to-- well, up to what, I had better not think about, I knew.

One night, though, the kids were playing on the hill beneath our house-- we have a couple of acres stretching down to a little creek, and we can watch them play from the back porch. Beth went down to see what they were up to, leaving Jodie and me on the porch, catecornered in two chairs. Suddenly Jodie kicks off her sandals and plops one of her chubby feet right in my lap.

I looked up, startled. She looked at me with a wicked grin. "See something you like?"

I couldn't think of anything to say in response-- I would have denied it, but the words stuck in my throat because they weren't true, her foot, the red-painted toenails, the little piggies at the end-- I liked it all, I knew I did.

"I've seen you looking at my feet," she said. "I've seen how you watch me walk around in my fuck-me pumps." I looked down to see what Beth was doing, my heart racing, head pounding. She was playing with the kids, oblivious to what was going on on the porch. "Does Beth know you like feet? Do you lick her toes while the two of you do it? Or doesn't she have the shape that turns you on?"

She rubbed my crotch with her toes and the ball of her feet, and purred with recognition at the erection she found inside. Beth ran after the kids, laughing, she saw none of this. Jodie moved her other foot up and wrapped the two of them around my cock inside my shirts and began to massage it, up and down. I looked at her feet, I wanted her toes in my mouth, I wanted to run my hand up her chunky calf, up her thick, soft, thighs, up to her curvy, fat ass, to knead it in my hands as I opened her up and dove into her steaming wet... that was all it took, in a moment I came in my pants, vigorously, moaning-- I looked down to the creek in a panic and could see Beth looking up at the house.

Jodie must have seen her too, because she quickly knocked her tea over into my lap and said, loud enough for Beth to hear, "I'm so sorry! You should go change and throw that right in the wash before it stains."

When I came back Beth and Jodie were talking on the porch and it was as if none of it had happened-- as if it had been a sinful dream. We put the kids to bed and we turned in ourselves a little while later. Beth and I cuddled in bed for a minute but I couldn't help but think-- what would it be like to be with a much larger woman, a softer woman? Holding Beth was almost like holding a boy (God forbid)-- what would it be like to have Jodie's bulk under me rocking with each thrust? What would it be like... to suck on those chubby little toes, run my hand up and down those thick, tapering thighs, as I drove deep into Jodie's womanly mass?