Jump to content

The Pop Tour


ey****

Recommended Posts

Posted

I was working for an unnamed 'diva' pop singer.

She wasn't really a diva, but you know how the press gets.  She has rituals and she has standards and all of this is to go into giving the best performance she can for the fans.

Her performance rider stated that she wanted a foot massage before she went on stage.

She was also a little bit superstitious and would request the foot masseur would kiss each foot before placing the first pair of shoes of the performance on her feet.

Some of the foot masseurs were a bit weirded out by this - but went along anyway.  They were effectively being paid an out of hours rate AND got to say that she had used their services.

When she first asked me, I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Are you deaf, boy - just a little kiss on each sole as a good luck"
"Sorry, Ma'am, I'm just... wow, this is such a honour.  I didn't believe what I was hearing.  You really want me to kiss your divine feet?"
She smiled, "Oh, like that.  OK, not just a little kiss on each sole.  Kiss my soles like you love the opportunity, like you love my feet"

I went down to her left foot and planted a long but soft kiss on the centre of her sole.

"Now, that's a good luck kiss," she laughed, "Keep going"

I did - long slow kiss after long slow kiss up and down each of her dainty feet.

The stage manager was gesturing to her, so she prompted me to place on her shoes as the show was about to start.

She told the stage manager to give me a pass and to meet her after the show.

It was an entertaining show, but her music wasn't my bag.  I felt it'd would have been rude to not meet her afterwards as requested, but I certainly wouldn't have stuck around otherwise.

After the show I made my way back stage, I approached the stage manager, "She wanted to see me?"
"I'll find out what's going on"

He sent me down to the dressing room.

"Come in, come in," she gestured.

I did, "Great show," I complimented.

"No, Darling," she said, "It wasn't a great show"
"I'm sorry."
"No, it was off the charts... the love you gave my feet helped me so much"
"Err, thank you"
"The rest of the tour. I want that. Every night."
I was gobsmacked.
"And, if any of my dancers need perked up or need help, I want you to sort them out also"
"I'm, errr...."
"Please say you'll accept.  You'll be sorted financially and it would do me a big favour"

So... I did.

The tour, it was often long days - I was on a bus with other general crew, they'd found me a bunk to help transport between shows - but there was often a lot of waiting around.

Usually I'd be needed almost immediately before the performance.  Though occassioanlly the tour manager would come to me with a dancer or two who were in need of my "confidence boosting good luck kisses"

I didn't really speak to the star most nights outside of the foot massage, occassionally she would pass on a message after the show.

Anyway. I really couldn't do all the dates - so I was at what would have been my last show.  During the massage she thanked me for the help over the previous nights and she asked me some questions.

"So, do you have a foot fetish?"
I went red, but confirmed that, yes I did.
"Have you ever wondered what I do after the show? With my feet?"
"I've not really thought about it if I'm honest"
"I usually soak them in a bowl of hot water."
"OK," I didn't know what to add to that.
"The show is nearly 2 hours.  And by the end of two hours they're very sore, very sweaty and very hot"
I blushed, "I can imagine"
"I don't want to make assumptions.  But, I want to say thank you for your help all of these shows.  For me and my dancers.  So, I want you to do something for me"
"Of course"
"I want you to watch my show closely tonight. Pay attention to my feet. The footwear I wear, or don't... think about how hot and sweaty they are.  Think about what you'd most like to do with my feet given a free choice.   Maybe, you'd like to wash them for me.  Either with the bowl of hot water...or... with your mouth"
I was speechless. Again.
She laughed, seeing how embarassed I was.
"Haha, OK give me those sweet and loving good luck kisses...."

The set had become somewhat familar to me and I watched as she danced around the stage - in everything shade of heels, wedges, so on...
When she came out for the encore - she gestured over to the area she'd seated me to point out to make sure I knew she was barefoot.  She winked. I blushed.  And gulped.

To make things even more embarassing.  Before the last song each night she would give general thanks.
A bit of a mixture of the usual pop star cliche, between thanking the fans for coming, people who'd supported her, but also things like the venue and the crew.

She then added, "And a very special thank you to someone who has been my good luck charm on the tour.  A lot of guys say they can give good foot rubs, but nobody has treat mine like he has..." a spotlight shone down on me.
"And this is going out on the DVD and Blu-Ray, it'll be on Youtube also I guess - so, yeah, Ladies... if you need a good foot massage go see him and get him to give you his sweet good luck kisses at the end and you'll feel like you're dancing on pillows no matter how ***ful the shoes are.
My feet are very sore, sweaty and dirty right now... but, I hope you'll be waiting in my dressing room to kiss them all better!"

She continued the speeches and the tour manager tapped me behind and laughed, "She isn't joking - come with me"

I got into the dressing room, and I had an idea.
I kneeled down. Tucked my head in - and outstretched my arms, palms turned up.
And I waited.

I heard the hustle in the corridor as she came from the stage with her tour party.  She sent them away, "You all get my time later."

She opened the door to the dressing room.
"Oh, my sweet foot boy.  I'm going to miss you"
I gave a mumble without raising my head, "I'll miss you too"
"You're a really good boy"
"Thank y..."
"Shhhh. Shhhh. My turn to speak.  You're a really good boy.  You don't really like my music.  But you have given up your time to serve me.  I know you're getting paid, but I also know that this is still an incovenience to come out and tour with me.  You've sacrificed your days in order to help and please me.  And sure, other guys would say they'd love to do the same.  But you've never complained, you've just got on with everything and, you actually know how to give a foot massage! And, the icing on the cake, you've got yourself ready offering yourself to me.
OK, I know feet are your fetish.  Which is why I have the thank you gift for you.  No holds barred... my feet are yours to do as you wish. You may rise"
I gestured myself up, "Thank you"
"Shh. No talking. Just enjoy.  And, oh... I don't need a massage - so if you want to go straight in with mouth and tongue, go for it."

She sat in front of me - her dainty feet were sweaty and dirty from the stage - I moved my face closer. I could feel the heat, feel the sweat.
I kissed. Slowly at first.  But then... then I got just hungry, so switched on. I got my face into her feet and took big kisses - sometimes rough, I ran my tongue against the underside of her toes, feeling each bump as it moved between toes.  I ravaged at her feet.

I looked up and she smiled.
"As a performer, on stage, I love looking out in the crowd and seeing fans enjoying themselves.
Right now, I'm looking down at you and the enjoyment some people get from my songs you are getting from my feet.  You are a little bliss"

She lay me down flat on my back.  She lay her feet flat on my face.
"Embrace them, feel free to sniff and breath my feet"
The smell was divine.
She took my through breathing exercises to make sure I inhaled deeply.  Breathing in the sweaty aroma.  She rubbed my face with her feet. I wriggled in extasy.

She whispered. "I know how much you love these feet. I know how much you wanted them.  And now they're yours"
I moaned in pleasure.

"I locked the door when I came in.  You may masturbate, but you must not cum"

I reached slowly and unbuttoned my pants, I grabbed my cock.  I was scared to cum as it'd probably go all over my clothes anyway! But I started stroking.

What was going on?  Here I am, lay on my back, in a dressing room in what could be anywhere, masturbating whilst having the divine feet of a famous singer in my face.
It seems beyond belief. Nobody would ever believe it. But it's real.

As the feeling got deeper I felt closer to release.  "I'm close," I warned her.
She moved round and kicked my hands off my cock.
Was she? She was. Holy Hell.  Her feet were giving me a foot job.

I moaned in such extasy, "Oh, please let me cum" I whispered.
"You see, my show is like a fairytale.  Everyone gets a happy ending.
And yours is coming in three... two..."
There was an almighty pause..... "....one"

With that I oozed cum all over her feet.  She cackled with laughter.

"Oh, I'll miss you.  I'm going to soak my feet in the hot water now... I'll leave you there to bliss out for a bit...."

Posted

Amazing writing! Really put me there. What an amazing story

Posted

Absolutely awesome.

Such a lucky man.

Congratulations.

Posted

Wow that is awesome writing and exactly what I hoped for as a ending 

×
×
  • Create New...