A few years ago I promised a good-friend of mine called Celine to help her paint the walls of one room in her newly bought house.

Celine has dark brown, nearly black hair, which she often wears as a pony-tail and is gothic like type, although she doesn’t consider herself to be goth. Her skin is extremely pale, so much that people used to call her a ghost. What coincidence that she loves ghosts. Her height is about 1,64 m (Americans: Please google what this is in ft, lol)  and has size 32 (middle european size scale) feet. Her body is pretty slim with average sized breasts.

After driving quite a while, I arrived at her house, parked the car and got out, when I suddenly spotted her coming towards me. She was wearing a black skirt, a purple shirt and was barefoot. Although the street was dirty and incredibly hot, as it was summer, she didn’t seem to care. I had not known that she was that tough before, nor that she seemed to enjoy being barefoot.

We hugged each other and procedeed to walk to the front door. While walking I catched a glimpse at her soles that were already black at this moment. Inside she showed me the room, told me how it should look like and started putting on the tape to prevent certain points from being coloured.

As we are both not the tallest, Celine kept stepping on a small ladder, while I handed her the pieces of tape. Because of this her bare feet constantly were nearly at the height of my face.
This whole time we talked about several things and I indirectly made her tell me the reason why she was barefoot. She said this way she would not make her socks dirty. Well, kind of logical and pretty nice for me.

Walking on the dirty plane, which we had put on the floor, since we wanted to protect it, made her soles dirtier and dirtier.

Later I brought the white paint from the cellar and we started to apply it to the walls. From time to time some drops of the paint got loose and some landed on Celines feet adding white spots as a contrast to her black soles and black nail polish.
Especially when we painted the ceiling and Celine kept stepping into small puddles of paint her feet looked more and more like a piece of art. Celine once made herself a comment about how her feet looked. Her skin however was so pale that the sprinkles were barely visible.

Before applying another colour we needed to wait until the white was dry and so we decided to get something to eat. Celine had nothing at home and so we had to walk to a near shop.
Just when we were about to leave the house she looked at her shoes, but then said that slipping into one of those would only make them dirty and so she’d rather walk barefoot again.
“At least my feet can’t get much dirtier after all”, she said to me. I strongly agreed.

It took us about ten minutes to get to the supermarket and Celine did’t complain once. If she had asked me to carry her, I wouldn’t have said no.
While being in the supermarket I catched a few people looking at her feet, but she didn’t seem to notice or she simply didn’t care. In the fruit and vegetables section, she even accidentally stepped on a strawberry and squished it.

Nothing special happened until we were at her home again except that it became harder to keep calm for me.

There we sat down on the floor, as all chairs and tables were still in her old flat. Without problems Celine managed to put herself into a perfect Lotus position, while I thought about a position in which she wouldn’t notice, if I finally got a  boner.

While we were eating I just could not stay away from looking now and then at hear dirty feet, when she suddenly said: ‘’You now that I know it?’’
“Know what I asked’’, looking confused.
“That you like my feet, of course.’’
“You noticed?’’
“Sure. I just told you so you don’t have to hide it, although it is quite funny. Can we continue?’’
Still slightly confused I agreed. Celine has been the first one to find it out and till now only two other friends of mine know it.

Without talking anymore about this we continued just as before and applied the purple color on the walls.
Without shy I now looked now and then at her feet and watched as purple spots met the white ones. Then I realized a funny coincidence. The three colours on her feet were the same three colours that she had worn from the beginning.
Her skin was nearly as white as the paint, just like her shirt had the same color as the purple paint and after walking barefoot all this time her soles were as black as her skirt. I am sorry that I did not take a photo of this great view.

After work we kept talking about many things and later showed each other funny videos on youtube. One time she had to log in to her youtube account and open the list of last viewed videos and I just had to laugh. Many videos on this list, were the same foot fetish videos I knew. I think that explained a lot and suddenly I wasn't sure anymore, if the fact that her clothes had the same color as the colors on her feet was just a coincidence.

This shouldn’t be the last interesting experience with Celine. The same year, but in November, I think it was the 28th, we went to an Asian restaurant to celebrate her birthday. We were a few friends and enjoyed a great meal until it was already night.

As always we didn’t just went home, but talked much too long at the parking slot. At some point only me and Celine were left and I offered her to take her home as I had a car and she did not.

Suddenly she cursed and I asked her what happened. She admitted that the ballerinas she wore have already been some years old, but since they were her most favorite ones she had already glued them together many times. This time however it seemed that their time was finally over, because parts of the soles had broken away leaving Celine now partly barefoot.
The funny thing however was that she was angry that her ballerinas were broken, but didn’t care that she was standing nearly barefoot on a parking lot with only five degrees Celsius outside.

Still I brought her home and as she was afraid to go the last meters from the car to the front door alone in the dark, I promised to go with her.
Although her house was only a few kilometers away from the restaurant it was much colder here and snow covered everything under a white blanket.

I am a gentleman and so I offered her both my shoes or at least socks and to carry her, but she refused both. She even completely slipped out of the ballerinas and was then completely barefoot.

“Ok, let’s go’’, she said and jumped out of the car before I could say anything more.

Celine then walked all the way to her front door barefoot leaving little footprints in the snow.

Finally we reached our goal, but after unlocking the door Celine asked me, if I wanted to come inside to drink some coffee, since she knew that I still needed to drive about an hour before I’d reach my home. I just couldn’t refuse the offer.

It has already been a good evening and so when we were sitting at her kitchen table I dared to ask, if I should massage her cold feet. Nervously I looked into her neutral face, when she suddenly started smiling and put her bare feet straight on my lap.

So while we were talking and drinking coffee I slowly massaged her pale feet, which were slightly pink cause of the cold. I didn’t even try to hide the bulge in my pants.

Although Celine was such a tough barefooter her soles were pretty soft. She definitely took care of them. The hours I spent online to learn about a good foot massage paid out, because Celine felt pleased and even sometimes let out some sighs of relaxation. I kneaded her toes until they got warm and draw circles on her soles making her laugh.

I think we sat there two hours until I finally drove home and the whole way I thought about, if I should have asked for more.