The Power of Pilates

I'd been up since 5 because the chore list of housework was a little longer than normal and because this was an extremely busy day for my wife, too.

She had pilates at the gym starting at 7, coffee and breakfast with a couple of her pilates friends at the gym cafe afterward, which wouldn't put her home until about 9:30 or so, followed by a post-workout massage; then a shower before going out for a lunch date with her boyfriend Brad. No telling how long they'd be out, but I was prepared to do whatever I could to ensure she had what she needed, when she needed it give her the smoothest day possible.

As instructed, I went in to wake her up at 6:30, with a freshly brewed cup of coffee. Her yoga pants, top and hairband were out for her from the the night before, so all she had to do when she woke up was sip her coffee, enjoy a foot rub from me, if she wanted it, then pop out of bed and attack her busy day.

Emma is 42, 5'10, blonde and very fit and active. How she ended up with me, remains a mystery, but for it, I am eternally grateful. Seeing her sleeping in her big king sized bed with as the morning sun was just starting to rise, peaking through the curtains, always was a sight for me. I never grew tired of seeing her beatiful face, tussled blonde hair and agelic face, resting comfortably.

The routine was plain and simple for me. I made her cup of coffee downstairs, just the way she liked it, with a splash of cream, carried it upstairs to her bedroom, stood next to her bed, holding the coffee cup, and slightly said, "Good morning, ma'am. Your coffee is ready."

At this point she rustles slightly, sits up, takes the coffee from me, and I place two oversized pillows behind her back. Always the same two pillows, as they were the ones she had selected, giving her the proper support. Once she takes a sip or two of the coffee, she pulls herself out bed, and I kneel to put her houseslippers on her feet. She hands me the coffee cup to hold there for her, as she heads to bathroom.

Everytime I see her in her lose cammie top and thong panties, black and with a lace front this morning, I am in heaven with her beauty. Her ass is perfect - round, firm and her thighs and legs cause me to flutter every morning at this point of my day. If I weren't in the chastity tube recommended to her and required of me to wear by her boyfriend Brad, my three-inch manhood would be at full attention. But as it is caged, I just strains against the metal, wishing and reaching for full erection, despite the pain caused the pulling of the ring that attaches the trap to my balls.

Upon her return, she climbs back into the bed, takes the cup from me, and still, without speaking a word to me, pulls the chore list from my mouth and the pencil from behind my ear to review it, make additions or rarely deletions, and gives a casual and dismissive wave of her hands, with a finger pointed toward the foot of the bed.

I shuffle on my knees to the spot near the end of the bed and begin rubbing her tired feet. She had been out with Brad and a group of friends last night dancing at a club in heels so I knew she would need an extra firm foot rub this morning, to prepare her for tough day. Her toenails were painted with an OPI colore called Shrimp something, not completely red, not exactly pink. The color was perfect for her skin tone, and made her slender, long feet and toes, sparkle.

As began the massage on the left foot, using the thumbs of both hands to press firmly on the ball of her foot, she spread her toes wide. I knew this meant she wanted me to lick between them as I rubbed her, so I obeyed the silent command, starting with a stiff togue beween her little toe and the next one, smelling and tasting last night's club fun.

As my tongue made its way between the last two toes of her right foot, she began flicking my exposed nipple with the toes of her lefto foot, causing me to rub even harder. To take advantage of this new-found motivation, Emma inserted her big toe into my mouth and I sucked it with purpose and used my tongue to massage it, too.

She hadn't stopped scribbling on the chore list since I began the task of the morning foot rub, but I couldn't think of that list and it's new additions at this moment, as her flicks of my nipple became more nonchalant, but firmer, completely unrythmed. I must have looked ridiculous to almost anyone else.

On my knees, at the foot of her bed, her feet in my face, me with a red bowtie around my skinny neck and a waist apron covering my caged penis, which was now straining against its confinement more than ever, and pressing harder with each snap of her toenail against my nipple. The apron left my bare backside completely exposed, and just as I tried to image what I must look like to others in this position, I glanced up her, hoping to make eye contact.

She was giving a final look at the work list, as I worked her big toe hard in my mouth, and without warning, she pulled her feet from me, never even looking in my direction, sat up over the edge of her bed, standing, before tossing the list and the pencil at her feet, not really even in my direction and walking to her dressing room/closet to ready herself for her pilates class.

Some mornings she will pat my head as she walks by, but she was too busy this morning for such a thing. I put my face to the floor to retrieve the list with my mouth and pick up the pencil and place it back behind my ear before crawling to the door of her room on my knees, then standing once in the hallway to return downstairs.

I knew what I had to do next. Rush to the garage, back her car into the driveway and put the top down on her yellow convertible Bug. I did this as quickly and quietly as possible to not attract any attention of any of the neighbors who may have been out walking. Once her ride was ready, I returned inside to take my position near the back door, on my knees, with her banana and to-go coffee mug waiting for her in my hands.

I was by the back door, head down, coffee mug in my right hand, banana in my left, as I heard her walking down the stairs, the flip flops she had on slapping the soles of her feet. I loved that sound. She breezed by me pausing just long enough to grab her to-go breakfast from my waiting hands, then bolted out the door toward her car.

Slap, slap, slap slap of her flips flops disappearing from my ears then the thud of her car door closing and her driving off.

As sad I was that she was gone without having even given me a good-bye or allowing me to say good-bye to her, I had no time to dwell on such concerns. No telling what new was on my work list and the time frame to accomplish as much of it as possible before her return was limited.

The standing order from her is for me to be on my knees where I was when she left awaiting her return. I removed the list from my lips, took a deep breath before unfolding it, bracing myself for the work, then opened it to see what was next for me this day.

The list was a little longer than it had been earlier in the morning, even considering I had been able to scratch through a few of the items before waking her up, such as clean the downstairs bathroom, dust the downstairs and water the plants and flowers outside.

As it stood now, the improved chore list from her:

"1. Change sheets on my bed. Use the white sheets with the lace trim, run them in the dryer with a fabric softner sheet, first, then iron them, including the pillow cases, before putting them on my bed.

2. Scrub kitchen floor

3. Sweep back patio and dust patio furniture

4. Iron my white linen skirt and set it out in my dressing room with my pink tank top and the thin brown belt, the one I used on you the other day

5. Scrub my Cole Hahn leather sandals, straps, soles and footbed and set them next to my outfit

6. Clean my Master bathroom, scrub the jacuzzi tub, toilet and the floors, plus clean the vanity and mirrors in my dressing room

More to come, but these must be done before my return from the gym. I'm VERY busy today, and everything I've circled and not numbered will be done, but are not your priorities at this time.

Don't let me down, E. xoxo"

How I got it all done in a little more than two-and-a-half hours I can only credit motivation to please Emma and perhaps a little fear, should I have failed to accomplish the tasks she demanded. But I did get the list done.

I was finishing the back patio work just as the clock neared 9:30 and after putting the broom and dust rags back in my little room downstairs, I retunred to my position on my knees by the back door to the garage with the list of newly scratched off chores folded and held between my lips awaiting her arrival from Pilates at the gym.

I hadn't been in the position for more than a minute or two when I heard the garage door open and the unique sound of her little bug convertible roll into its parking place. The music was on, playing something loudly from the pop station in town, and as she killed the engine, I thought I heard her talking to someone. When I heard two distinct car doors close, I knew she had a guest with her.

I looked down, noticing how filthy my apron looked at this point already in the morning, took a deep breath and braced myself for whomever it could be walking through the door with Emma. I was not expecting her to have a guest and really found myself flustered at who it could be and why that person would be with her, from the gym.

Before giving any more thought, the door opened and in walked Emma. I looked up at her and she grabbed the list from my mouth and the pencil from ear, and before I could glance past her to see who her guest was, she made eye contact with me for the first time all day, smirked and said, stepping aside, "Yeah, here he is. Told you he'd be waiting for us."

At this moment, I allowed my eyes to depart from Emma who was now looking over at a young, probably 22-25 year old light-skinned black girl. The young woman appeared to be about as tall as Emma, wearig oversized, black framed and dark black lensed sunglasses, a big smile on her face, all black spandex two piece workout number, ankle socks and a pair of nike training shoes. She was beautiful, curvey, toned and her teeth shined so white.

My stare was broken before she removed her shades when Emma said, "This is Reesa, a spin instructor from my gym. She needs her toes done while I shower."

I was frozen as I looked at Emma and heard Reesa chuckle. But I wasn't frozen for long, as Emma barked, "Greet my guest properly, dork!" And she pointed to the ground in Reesa's general direction.

I immediately scooted toward her on my knees, kneeled down and began kissing the tops of her Nikes, over and over. This caused her to really laugh out loud, but in a flash, Emma said, "OK, Reesa, tell him what you want to drink, we've got juice, water, whatever you want; have a seat on the sofa, and you (speaking to me), when you get Reesa set up, come upstairs to see me before getting your stuff together t take care of Reesa for me."

With that, Emma took toward the stairs, and Reesa made her way to the sofa, glancing back at me saying she wanted a cranberry juice over ice.

I hopped up and quickly scurried toward the kitchen to fetch her drink order and when I returned to the den Reesa was making herself right at home, sitting comfortably in the center of the sofa, tapping away on the screen of her smartphone.

I stools there next her with her drink in my hand, she looked up from her phone, giving me a long look, starting at the locked up chastity tube, then to the dirty apron, smiling as she made eye contact with me. She then looked at the drink in my hand and said, " That will do," as she motioned for me to set it on the ottoman that doubled as a coffee table in front of her.

I placed her cranberry and ice glass on. Coaster and turned to head upstairs to take care of whatever needs Emma might have, and as I got a few paces away, Reesa said, "Hey, you. Turn around."

As I did, I heard the camera snaps of her cell phone and saw her big grin as she continued to take pictures of me.

"Tell Emma I'm tagging her in these on Facebook. What's your account and I'll tag you, too."

With that I turned beet red and froze.

I swallowed hard and have her my Facebook email account so she could find me.

She barked at me to spell it out slowly for her. Emmascarwasher at yahoo dot com, I replied.

With that, she Sid perfect and dismissed me.

I scurried up the stairs as quickly as I could, looking to escape more humiliation at Reesa's hands if only for a moment. When I arrived upstairs, Emma was in her dressing rooming, looking at herself in the mirror, still wearing her black flip flops, but leaning forward to the point I could see her dirty soles from the Pilates class room floor.

As I approached her she told me to start her showers, which I did, returning, she snapped her fingers and pointed to the floor behind her. I kneeled there expecting to remove her shoes and perhaps get lucky enough to help her disrobe before her shower. As soon as my knees hit the floor, she reached around and grabbed the back of my head and hair with her right hand and pulled me to her ass, then leaned back toward the mirror and said, "GeT busy."

And I began kissing her spandex clad bottom as though I were making out with my wife for the first time in years.

I eagerly kissed my wife's rear end and as though I needed any more motivation for this task, she bent over farther, reached down with both hands and began teasing my exposed nipples with her beautifully and perfectly manicured fingers nails.

This caused me to press against her even more and instinctively I reached up to pull her spandex bottoms down, allowing me to kiss the flesh of her rear. She didn't seem to mind me doing this and didn't pull away or reject that move in any way, letting her bottoms fall to her ankles. My eyes were close and she continued to twist and scratch my nipples.

As my tongue made its way on her body, her cell phone rang, causing her to stop teasing me. I continued to kiss and lick her, despite the fact she stopped touching me and leaned up slightly to answer the call.

"Hey, babe," she said, still as I licked her ass. "Yeah, on the bike for sure."

At that point, with her right hand, she pried my face from her ass and abruptly and rudely pointed toward her feet, and as I gathered myself and began to remove her flip flops from her left foot, she said, "Hold on a sec. I've got a problem with the help..."

Without removing her phone from her ear or face, she looked at me and said, "Not like that, idiot. Lay on your back."

Which I did, quickly, and once in place, she lifted her left foot just high enough to use my face to flip her flip flop off, dragging her barefoot from Pilates at the gym dirty sole across my nose, then pulled her foot out of her spandex, repeating the move her right foot, letting the spandex fall to the floor next to me.

Once completely free of the workout pants, she placed her left foot on my face roughly, and I began licking it.

"OK, so yeah, what were you saying?" she continued on the phone. "NO! I haven't seen it yet! What?!? HAHAHA. LOVE! IT! I'll look at when we get off the phone. Glad she tagged me, though. Yeah, she's awesome. So cute...."

She worked each toe into my mouth as she continued her conversation, then straddled my face to shift my work to her right foot. She placed more weight on my face this time and began flexing then scrunching her toes as I licked the arch of her bare foot. Her scrunching and flexing became slower and more deliberate, but with even more of her weight as she talked.

"I have got to warn you, I am so ready to see you today... Yeah," she said in her most vixen of voices. "You on that bike. ... I love those jeans. ... So sexy. Yeah, I'll wear that... Not sure how long I can straddle you on the back, though. Hmmmm, ha. .... Sounds good. I'm hopping in the shower now. Yes, great. Love, you. Mwah."

And with that, she hung up the phone and removed her foot from my face, crossing it toward her to look at the sole.

"What have you been doing?" said to me. "Snap it up, bitch! I've got to get ready."

She put her foot roughly on my face again and moved it around allowing me to finish licking it before she jumped in the shower. After a few more minutes of this and licking between each of her toes, she instructed me what to lay out for her to wear as she took a shower; then said: "And go fluff my towel in the dryer so it's perfect for me when I'm ready for it, fluffer. Oh, tell Reesa Brad and I loved the picture of you on Facebook!

I jumped up quickly and ran into the bathroom to check the temperature of the water in the shower for her, hoping to stall long enough to see her disrobe, but no such luck. She was still looking at herself in the mirror when I scurried past her with the towel in my hand to head downstairs to the laundry room to run it in the dryer for her, as instructed.

At the top of the stairs, out of sight and in a rare private moment, I took a deep breath to gather myself and prepare to face Reesa with the message from Emma.

As I rounded the bottom of the stairs and walked into the den, Reesa was now lounging fully on the sofa, and before I could say a word, she snapped her fingers at me, then pointed her empty glass and said, "Now!"

"Yes, ma'am, anything else ma'am?"

"Yeah, there's a lot more, boy, but for now, get with it on the refill," she replied.

"Yes, ma'am."

I stepped quickly to fetch her glass and bring the refill, then upon returning with it, delivered the message. "Ms. Emma and Mr. Brad wanted me to tell you they liked your Facebook picture of me, ma'am."

And she started laughing so hard I thought she was going to provide a spit take with the juice for me to clean up, but she contained herself slightly, swallowed and said, "I am to please."

I begged her pardon to the laundry room to give Emma's towel a quick fluffing and the request was granted with, "Once you get it going, get back here. We've got a few things to discuss."

"Yes, ma'am," and with that I popped the towel into the dryer and returned to the lounging, young, African-American woman who was still in her reclined position, tapping on the screen of her phone again with her still sneakered- feet dangling over the armrest.

I stood near the ottoman waiting for her "discussion." When she finished her test or whatever it was she was doing on the phone, she looked at me standing there and pointed to her feet. "Get these shoes off. And the socks, too. My feet are ready to breathe." She then twirled her feet in circles.

I moved toward her feet and reached to unlace her shoes, when she pulled her feet away quickly and said, "From your knees, bitch and no hands. I don't want your grubby fingers on my shoes!"

"Yes, ma'am," I said as I knelt at her feet, which she had now crossed at the ankles. I positioned myself from my knees to reach the laces of the right shoe and grabbed the end of one of them in my mouth and pulled, and she began snapping pictures of me. I used my lips to untie them completely, then my teeth to loosen the laces down the shoe for easier removal. She didn't budge to help me with the task as I lowered my head to the heel of the shoe to pry it free of the first foot.

My face drug up the sole of socked foot from the heel to the toe and it became clear to me at that moment she must wear the same no-show socks to the gym for days in a row. The soles of her white socks were damp with her sweat and dirty, hinting at just how perfect the bottoms of her feet must be - perfectly proportioned; perfectly arched.

As I moved to repeat the humiliating task on the shoe and foot, she flexed her socked foot, tapping her toes on my nose, then grabbing my nose with her scrunched toes and said, "Get this sock off first, bitch. No teeth. All tongue."

I didn't speak, wanting to hold my breath, and I lowered back to her heel and ankle stuck out my tongue, making it as rigid at possible, and began to work it off of her foot. My task wasn't made any easier because she flexed her toes wide, forcing me to go at the job through multiple passes. At one point she told me to look at her, which I did, and she snapped more photos.

As the sock was finally dangling from Ms. Reesa's toes, she flicked her foot sending it flying to the floor a few paces away, but also causing her foot to kick me in the face, and while it rested there, she roughly changed her position, crossing the other still-shoed foot to the top and said with gusto, "NEXT!"

I repeated the humiliating task to its completion, freeing her beautiful feet from the bound captivity of her Nikes and socks, hoping to gaze upon them - her toes were plump and the nails were painted pink, which stood out against the tops of light coffee-with-cream colored skin. Her soles were a reddish pink and where the pink met the light tan, almost white. They stank of well worn tennis shoes and socks and as the thought crossed my mind how grateful I was that it was time to fetch Emma's towel and deliver it to her, which would allow the airing of the feet to occur, Ms. Reesa said: "Pick the socks up with your mouth and suck on them for a while. I noticed they were a little dirty for my tastes. We'll call it a pre-soak. You can show me how good you are my laundry pre-washer when you get back from helping Emma get ready."

I said yes, ma'am, and without hands, collected the pair into my mouth. As I was standing to leave, she said "Hey, bitch. I expect thank yous from you."

Turning back to her smiling face, I mumbled, "Thank you, Ms. Reesa," then hurried to the wash room for the towel and up the stairs to await Emma's exit from the shower.

In Emma's vanity, I waited for her shower to end. I was kneeling there just outside of her Master bathroom door with the warm towel in my hands and Ms. Reesa's dirty socks in my mouth. Despite how ridiculous I must look, I was hopeful Emma would allow me to dry her - for two reasons: First, so I could have a rare look at her beautiful, long, toned and glistening body I longed to touch and see; and second, to delay the return to Ms. Reesa if only for a few minutes.

The shower water stopped and my heart skipped, in anticipation of seeing my wife just from the shower. "Towel," she said, and I opened the door and scooted toward the shower, looking up and seeing only her arm sticking out from the curtain, her fingers snapping impatiently for me to hand it to her, which is did, without hesitation.

She snatched it from me and it disappeared behind the shower curtain, but I waited, just knowing when it got time to dry her legs and feet, I'd be there to help.

She was humming a tune I couldn't make out, but interrupted herself to say: "You still there?"

"Yes, ma'am," I mumbled through the socks in my mouth, but still excitedly and over zealously.

With curiosity, she pulled the shower curtain back and peaked her face out to see me on my knees and immediately started laughing. "Well look at you! Lay down on your back."

Which I did, looking up, to see the shower curtain get slung open wide, but before I could see anything else, she dropped her wet towel over my face, told me to spread it out, then stepped out of the shower and roughly used the towel draped over my face to dry the soles of her feet, spreading her toes wide and pressing against my nose to ensure in between each toe was dried.

To be continued...