My name is Anna Huggins. My mani pedi last week was the subject of a recent post by my daughter Nancy’s former boyfriend, John. Perhaps you have read John’s version of it; I thought I would give you mine.

For anyone who didn’t see John’s post, I will briefly set the stage. John and Nancy dated during their senior year of high school, before going off to different universities. During the year they became lovers, but they broke off the relationship after graduation, recognizing the difficulty of maintaining a long distance relationship as they concentrated on their studies (and social lives) at their new schools.

While Nancy and John were dating, Nancy kept me abreast of the intimate details of their relationship. I coached Nancy when John started pressing for more physical contact. Nancy was anything but a prude, but did not want to fumble around in an unexperienced manner, and so sought information. I taught her how to give a lip smacking blow job, and heard all of the details as their intimacies increased from petting to full-fledged, down and dirty fucking. By Halloween, they were fucking nearly daily at our home in the morning before school, after school, or both. This continued through the school year, and intermittently during the summer before they left for their respective universities.

I must say I was a bit envious of Nancy during that year because my relationship with my husband was going from bad to worse. We separated soon after Nancy graduated from high school. So while Nancy was enjoying regular sex, I spent the year getting next to none, relying upon the inanimate lovers I kept in my dresser for occasional pleasure.

When their freshman year concluded John returned to our town; Nancy elected to stay at school and accept an internship with one of her professors. I had heard that John had come home and was working with his Mom at her nail salon. I decided to drop in to see him, and to say “Hello.”

I thought the best time to visit would be late Saturday afternoon, when the traffic at the salon slowed down and we would be able to talk a bit more freely. As I thought about it Saturday morning I began to get more and more excited, and my thoughts began to get lewder and lewder. Nancy had told me about John’s cock, which she said was quite a bit bigger than her father’s, as well as of John’s stamina and recuperative powers. With my coaching, Nancy had also taught John the finer points of pussy worship, and she said he had been a willing and enthusiastic student.

I lay by my pool in the morning, working on my tan, and considering the wisdom of possibly getting involved with my daughter’s former lover, a young man a bit more than half my age. The more I thought about it, the hotter I got and the better the idea seemed to me. After a bite of lunch, I turned my attention to getting ready properly for my nail salon seduction.

I took a long bath and carefully shaved every trace of hair from my pudendum. I did not want any distracting razor burn. Frankly I was so excited that I had to be extra careful as I shaved. Afterwards, I rubbed a cool lotion into the flesh of my pussy, giving ample attention to my labia and clit. I repeatedly brought myself to a peak of excitement, then backed off. I wanted to be smoking hot when I got to the salon.

Next, I chose what I would wear. It was a warm day so I could dress lightly without provoking undue attention to myself. Forsaking a bra or panties, I chose a semi-sheer silk camisole, and a full skirt which did not reach my knees. I put my hair into a ponytail, and wore just a hint of makeup.

I drove to the salon and arrived around 3:40. I had not made an appointment, but John was the receptionist and immediately broke into a smile when I walked in. He assured me that they could fit me in for a mani pedi. I told John that I had hoped that he could give me mine so that we could visit. I leaned forward, giving John a flash of my breasts. He wasn’t licensed, he said, but I told him that I did not care, and that rules were made to be broken. My nipples were poking out the silk of my camisole; John stuttered that if I could wait a few minutes, he would make an exception for me.

“You are such a slut,” I thought to myself as I took a seat across from John in the waiting area. I arranged my skirt in a haphazard fashion to give John a look at my long, tan legs. As the remaining customers’ treatments finished up, John checked them out and the staff members put away their implements and straightened up their stations. I tried to appear interested in the magazine which I had selected, but kept peeking toward John, catching his eye and staring at him. I wondered to myself what Nancy would think if she could see me tempting and teasing her former lover. I concluded that she would be amused, and would wish that she could have been a fly on the wall.

John finally arose from the receptionist desk and went to the station furthest from the front door and began prepping it, filling the foot bath with warm, sudsy water, and setting out his tools. He then came and invited me to the chair. He helped me into the elevated chair, and took a seat on a stool before me.

As John gave me my manicure, we chatted about his school and how Nancy was doing at hers. John had heard about my separation from Nancy’s father and gave me his sympathies. I thanked him, but told him that it had been a long time coming, and now seemed likely to be permanent. It sounded as though he had led a rather monastic life at university, concentrating on his studies. As we chatted, my thoughts wandered to Nancy’s stories of their debaucheries. As he worked on my hands, pulling and pushing, my nipples slid back and forth in the silk camisole, adding to my arousal. I could feel the moisture gathering on my pussy lips, and dribbling from them. I was sure my chest was blushing, and I felt whatever reservations I may have still harbored slipping away. “Time to pull out the stops,” I thought to myself.

John completed the attention to my fingernails and began rubbing warm lotion into my first hand. I closed my eyes and tried to collect myself. As I relaxed, I heard a contented sigh slip from my lips, and I gently squeezed John’s arm as it cradled mine while his other hand rubbed lotion up and down my arm. John moved his stool to the other side and began rubbing my second arm. I reciprocated by grasping his arm more suggestively and rubbing up and down it, imagining it was his cock, before checking myself and releasing it. “Sorry,” I said, “I guess I got carried away.” John glanced at his lap and wiggled on the stool, trying unsuccessfully to hide his arousal.

“Wow, girl, you haven’t had this much fun in a long time,” I thought to myself. “And it does not seem as though you have lost anything in the wiles department.”

By this time the remaining customers had pretty much cleared out. John got up, said good evening to the last of the departing help, and locked the door. “Let’s take a look at those feet,” John said as he returned. I smiled and repositioned myself as John took my first foot from the warm bath and set it on the cushioned edge. I hitched up my skirt and spread my knees, giving John an unobstructed view of my hot cunt. I assumed it was glistening, and engorged.

John gave it his best, but I must say that the pedicure suffered as John’s attention to my toes was diminished by his rapt attention to the treasure before his eyes. Sweat drops formed on John’s brow and slid down his face. I leaned forward as though to watch John minister to my toes, letting my camisole drape forward and my breasts dangle before him. John’s efforts at conversation had diminished to monosyllables and his face flushed red and redder. When John finally finished my second foot, he carefully arose, taking the pan of water, now cold, and emptying it before coming back and sitting back down on his stool before me.

He brought with him a bowl containing a rather copious amount of warmed lotion. Taking my first foot, he placed it in his lap. I hunkered down in the chair, letting my skirt ride further up my legs as though he hadn’t been able to fully see my pussy before. With a look of resolve on his face, John slathered lotion up and down my leg before setting to a suggestive massage. I rubbed my foot back and forth in his lap, giving John a massage of his own. “My god,” I thought, “this may be the biggest cock you have ever had the pleasure to meet.” I rocked in the seat, trying to stimulate myself, imagining the cock plundering my cunt.

John finished one leg and placed it back on the ledge before him, taking the second foot and placing it in his lap directly on his engorged cock. He slid the foot forward and backward, as though trying to masturbate himself with it. I leaned forward again, wishing I could lean forward far enough to place a breast between John’s teeth. “Nancy told me you had a big cock, John, but I did not realize quite how big,” I said. John’s eyebrows raised and he stared at my dangling tits. “Why don’t you come over to the house tomorrow afternoon, and show me just how big it really is.”

John’s face registered momentary disappointment as he realized that he was not going to get to finish what he had started today, but brightened as he said, “Would 3:00 be good for you? “

***

I have been trying on various bikini swimsuits for the past hour, trying to figure out which most suits my intentions for the afternoon. I had just selected one which tied at the neck and hips. Then the doorbell rang, and I hurried down the stairs.