Playing Dressup: Leg Cramp
For a moment you just look at her your eyes roving down her body taking in all the changes that you've been noticing over the past week or so. But that's cut short as she utters a soft cry and falls against you, her left leg cramping up from being forced to stand in those silly shoes too long.
You catch her hugging her close against your chest. "What's wrong Baby?" In your concern for her wellbeing you break the ridicules character that you've been portraying as you lift your hand to brush her hair back from her face. She's breathing heavily at the moment, but the fact that she's in actual pain has your prick behaving itself, even if she is nearly naked and pressed tightly against your body.
It takes her a few moments to admit the truth. "I don't think I can wear these shoes. They hurt too much!" Just as your wife predicted, let her have them for a while and she'd be discarding them herself.
"Ah, well then lets get them off you shall we?" You reach out and pull the desk chair close, sliding her gently into it though your hands seem reluctant to leave her body. "Here let me do the one that hurts the most first." You hold your hands out and wait while she tries to lift her left foot into your grip, the soft whimper she utters is too much for you and you catch her foot carefully bringing it up to press against your chest, the heel biting in through the shirt in a way that should cause pain but instead brings back a memory of your wife in a similar position once when you were exploring the idea of a dominant female.
Groaning softly you shove that thought away even as it causes renewed twitching in your shorts. Carefully you focus on the tiny buckle that holds the tortuous shoe on her little foot and work it free. You gently lift her foot out of the misnamed slipper and let it fall to the floor, your fingers start to softly rub her toes the space between them, following with a soft kisses to each toe pad, then a gentle suckle on the big toe that has her giggling.
You start to massage the pad of her foot, working your thumbs in slow circles looking for the place that hurts but not finding it there. You move onto the arch and her heel, still seeking out the source of her whimpers but it doesn't seem to be in her foot. Not discouraged you press her foot against your chest and move forward to let your hands stroke up her calf slowly, seeking out the source of her pain with deft fingers. It isn't until you reach her thigh that you find the place that is causing the pain, her breath hissed in sharply just as you find the small ball of too tight muscles.
"Oh Baby, that feels horribly painful. Hold still and Daddy will make it all better." In order to reach her thigh more easily you shift her foot up over your shoulder and scoot the chair closer to you. Without thinking about what you're doing, your lips press against the inside of her knee as your hands work that knot of muscle slowly, trying to relieve the pressure without causing her unnecessary pain. It takes a while, longer to slowly coax the pain to leave instead of forcing the muscles to behave as someone with a rougher touch might try.
Again and again your fingers brush gently over the tight muscles gently caressing them until you can feel them relaxing under your persistence, all the while you press soft kisses against the inside of her knee and her upper calf not really thinking about anything but how soft her fur feels and how good she smells. The insistent throbbing of your cock is what brings you back to yourself when your fingers have started to drift up along the inside of her thigh. She's leaning back in your chair with her head thrown back breathing heavily her hands on her small breasts through the silky white bra. Oh good god man what were you thinking? Here you've gone and touched her in ways that should be left for her husband! Or at the very least a boyfriend, definitely not her father!
Abruptly you slide her leg off your shoulder, placing her foot on the floor as you lean down to unfasten the other death slipper from her right foot. "There that should make it all better. But what will you do about shoes for tonight?" You made a point of looking over your shoulder toward the box that held the shoes her mother wanted her to wear. "I know, you can wear the ones with the open toe and I'll give you a pedicure so your toes will match!" Her eyes lit up and you knew you had her.