EXTRACT FOR
Protege Mistress
(Gregory Allen)

Chapter One

Coaster on the Floor

	

      Her promotion to shift manager entitled Diane to wear black pants while Kevin and the rest of the drivers were required to wear jeans. Hard at work in her washed-out-green shirt with sleeves to her elbows, her hair tied up and tucked under the baseball cap all the workers wore, Diane could not have done less to exude femininity, but Kevin still found it. Whether he viewed her making pizzas from the side while he scrubbed grease from the deep dish pans and admired her extended arms, hands deftly spreading cheese and olives and sausages over dough covered in pools of sauce, or stared, while he was taking orders on the phone, at her ass, as she sidled the length of the pizza-making counter, he longed to be near her. He craved the intimacy the pizza shop gave them. He would sometimes stare at her behind with a clinical reverence, analyzing what it could be about the way her curves pressed out from those black pants, dotted with flour handprints??"her over-sized shirt pulled out and hanging over a hip??"that made it so enticing. He felt guiltless eyeing her; his appreciation of her beauty felt so genuine.

	He truly admired her, was a large part of it. The two of them had started working at around the same time, both as drivers. While he spent the summer folding pizza boxes and keeping up on the dishes, waiting for deliveries, she had gotten the owner to train her on every aspect of running the pizza shop, and earned her promotion. He didn't have that kind of initiative. In fact, he didn't learn to answer the phones until his first shift under her supervision.

	While they had both been drivers, they had a few friendly exchanges, but when she called him to the phone, Kevin noticed immediately her new managerial tone. "Kevin, come over here." She smiled, kindly. "I'm going to have you answer phones between deliveries, in addition to your other duties."

	"Okay, sure." He felt himself blushing. He was pretty sure Diane suspected his crush. He couldn't imagine a woman as beautiful as her didn't suspect every man developed some level of infatuation with her. He hoped she didn't know the extent of his. 

      Kevin had been kicking himself for not asking her out when he had the chance. The store had a strict policy against managers dating the hourly employees. His berating himself, he knew, was an absurd façade. He wasn't really fooling himself. He wouldn't have asked out a beautiful woman like Diane in a million years. He was shy enough with women in his own league. He felt satisfied with work-related conversation and the occasional exchange of personal, friendly anecdotes. 

	Diane instructed him on how to take orders over the phone, gave him a script to memorize, then went to make pizzas. She returned after several minutes and tested him. She leaned against the counter and played the part of customers placing orders. She made him hold the phone to his ear, as if each were a real call. Kevin, grinning awkwardly, did as he was told. He punched the orders into the computer, without firing them into the system, as she watched and corrected his mistakes. He found her rather impatient with his progress after a few minutes, and he was surprised to find himself feeling ashamed of his frequent blunders. Once he got it down, though, she praised him. "Very good. Now you're ready to take real calls, all by yourself."

	Kevin knew his enjoyment of her praise showed all over his face.

      The hang out after work was the bowling alley across the street. Kevin always started the evening when he joined everyone??"anytime he specifically heard Diane would be there and other nights when he felt like hoping she would drop by??"intent as hell on getting on the list for a game of pool. There were only two tables in the back corner and the cover was perfect. He could sit and enjoy the wait near Diane, listening to her unwind by talking, usually to Monica or one of the other drivers, and only occasionally have to abandon her to play his turn at pool, maintaining the deception. Luckily, Diane never came around and watched. She might have grown suspicious seeing him shoot. For a supposed pool fiend, he couldn't sink a ball to save his life.

	After a couple hours, one night, a bunch of the other drivers decided to go bowl. Kevin prepared to surrender his pool game to join them, but when Diane and Monica and Beth all declined, he used his pool game as an excuse to remain at the table. Soon after, Beth and Monica were lured away by a regular at the bar top that Beth had been making eyes at for several weeks. They tried to tug Diane along, but there was no moving her, and Kevin and Diane were alone. Kevin looked up at the board where his name steadily rose.

	"Why don't you sit over here?" Diane patted the booth next to her. "You're always sitting so far away, waiting for your pool games." She grinned and sipped from her drink. She sat leaned back, and as Kevin rose from his chair he saw her legs splayed out under the table on the chair cattycorner to her. Kevin sat a foot farther away than where she had patted the booth. She seemed to notice and smirk, but Kevin decided it was his imagination. 

      "Do you know what I heard," she said, "and this might interest you. I heard a juicy piece of gossip. I heard someone at work has a huge crush on someone else."

	"A crush?" Kevin felt the temperature rise several degrees. Diane leaned forward and looked back as though trying to catch his face in the best lighting, gauging his reaction. Kevin took a swig from his beer and avoided her eyes. 

	"Oh, a huge one," Diane said, leaning back again. "It's obvious to everyone, apparently. Everyone can tell. They say he??"it's a boy who has the crush??"is always watching her and hanging around her, but he's very shy, they say. They say he's hardly done a thing about it except to be very helpful to her."

	Kevin felt a fount of humiliation spread outward from his core. Diane was so clearly calling him out. She couldn't have been talking about anyone but him. He wouldn't have been surprised to learn she had suspicions, but her certainty, the idea of everyone knowing and being amused at his desperation to be near her, he should have felt like fleeing the bowling hall and never returning to work. Instead he remained, the heat of blush not leaving but evening over all his skin, through all his body. He felt a mild, pleasant buzz. "Are you going to say who?" he said.

	Diane grinned, her mouth open. He thought she was going to tell him she knew about his infatuation, he almost hoped she would. He feared he would confess if necessary to maintain the euphoria he felt under her flirtatious teasing, her slight taunting. Under the vulnerability of her playing with his secret. 

      She grabbed a deck of cards from the center of the table. "Let's play." She shuffled the cards in her hands a few times, then set them in two piles on the table, and riffled them. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

      "No."

      "No girlfriend? You're so cute, though."

      "No girlfriend, right now. I'm really busy."

The smirk passed over her face again. The twinkle in her eye permeated the dim bar. "What should we play for? We have to play for something." 

      She finished her shuffle and dealt out three cards to him and three to her. She set the remaining pile between them on the table and flipped over the first card, the starting arrangement for the regular bowling alley card game of 31. She laid her hand on Kevin's over his cards, not allowing him to pick them up. 

      "Before you look."

      Kevin glanced down at their hands, layered together. He quickly looked up again, but the image blazed in his periphery. The coolness of her touch drove a pulsing heat through his body. 

      "What do you want?"

      She withdrew her hand. "I want a foot massage. My feet ache after a long shift, literally ache. That's what I want, a foot massage. What do you want?"

      Kevin wanted, of course, a kiss. What else would a man want from a woman he had a wild crush on? And she began with physical intimacy as the stakes. Under any other circumstances, he would have said it, but she was his boss and partly out of discretion, partly using this as an excuse, he said, "Five bucks?"

      Diane groaned and picked up her cards. "All you drivers care about is money. Terrible, terrible, terrible. It's a progressive disease, it really is. You go first."

      Kevin drew a six, which gave him a matching diamond with his queen. He discarded his five of spades. The object was to get as close to 31 as possible. Any player could knock the table at any time and end the game. An ace with two face cards or the ten of the same suit was the best possible hand, scoring 31. Three of a kind scored thirty and a half points. Going for three of a kind was risky, though, because if your opponent knocked, you were sure to lose. Kevin always went for suited cards and rarely knocked, worried his opponent held higher suited cards. 

      "Best of five?" Diane said.

      "Sure."

      Diane knocked after a few rounds. She grinned over her fanned out cards. Kevin held only two diamonds for a total of seventeen points but he got one more draw. He picked up a diamond but only a five. "Twenty-two," he said, turning them face up.

      "Twenty-four." Diane smacked her cards on the table.

      "You knocked with that?"

      Diane nodded, grinning. "Oh, a foot massage is going to feel sooooo good."

      "That's only one." Kevin was amazed his voice sounded clear. His slight buzz from drinking had evaporated in the midst of the anxiousness coursing through him. He didn't know if he was more worried about giving her the foot massage or of not receiving the honor. He certainly wasn't thinking about the five bucks. 

      The second game Kevin was dealt three clubs, but for a score of only twenty-three. He probably should have knocked right away, but once he waited, he had to improve. He drew and discarded several times but couldn't get another club. Diane kept drawing and discarding, looks of mild disgust passing over her. The deck was nearly gone, then she drew and beamed. Kevin knew he was in trouble. He drew again and improved to twenty-five, but the way Diane knocked following, he knew she had him. He had one final draw and pulled another diamond, giving him twenty-nine. He felt hopeful and waited for Diane to show. She slowly turned over three sevens. 

      "Oh, man. I should have known you were going for that. I could have knocked at any time. I was dealt twenty-two."

      "You had twenty-two on the deal and didn't knock? You got to take a chance, if you want to win."

      The 'if you want to win' seemed to linger. He knew she hadn't meant it that way, she hadn't meant that she suspected he was throwing the match so he could massage her feet, but he wasn't too sure she didn't suspect it in the quiet that followed.

      She picked the cards up and started shuffling. "Do you really like pool?"

      "I play enough, don't I?"

      "Yeah."

      "Why do you ask?"

      "Something Monica said had me wondering."

      "What?"

      "Nothing. Never mind. You better focus if you expect to mount a comeback. I'm up two games to zero." Diane finished shuffling and casually dealt. Kevin picked up each card as he received it and pensively looked: a two of diamonds, a six of spades, and a two of clubs. He rolled his eyes when he saw the second two. A terrible hand. Unless he picked up a miracle two, he was in trouble. He drew a four of spades. Thought about it, but folded one of his twos and kept the matched suits. He looked up. Diane grinned, her hand formed into a fist and poised above the table.

      "No," Kevin said. Her knuckles rapped against the wood. "You dealt yourself a good hand?"

      "Good enough," Diane said. "I was watching your face while you looked at yours. You totally gave yourself away. I know I've got you beat."

      Kevin pinched a card from the top of the deck. The ace of spades would give him twenty-one. It was his only chance. He drew another two. Diane burst out laughing. She turned her cards face up, a nine and an eight of diamonds with a four of hearts. "Seventeen good enough?"

      "Seventeen? You knocked with that? I would have had three twos, but I discarded one."

      "Awww, poor thing. I told you to take a chance." Diane leaned back in the booth. She stretched her legs under the table and bumped Kevin's shoes with hers. "No five bucks for you. And what did I win? I forget."

      "A foot massage."

      "Oh, that's right. A foot massage. Oh, that sounds wonderful."

      Kevin managed to meet her eyes. He tried to casually smile. "You're going to gloat?"

      Diane leaned over the table, placing her face close to his and grinning. "Of course I am. That's half the fun. You are paying up, aren't you?"

      "I pay my debts."

      Diane looked around. Several people from the pizza shop were still hanging around, including Monica up at the bar top with Beth. Kevin worried people were sure to return as soon as he started. He wasn't looking forward to the embarrassment, but he certainly wanted to show Diane he was honorable. "Tell you what," Diane said, "I'll be nice. I won't make you do it in front of everyone. Why don't you wait a few minutes then come outside and follow me to my apartment?"

      Kevin averted his eyes as Diane walked over to say goodbye to Monica. Diane passed behind him. He kept looking at the board for the pool game, though his name had been long ago passed over. After waiting a safe period of time, he nonchalantly walked out. A pair of headlights crept up behind him and stopped when he got to his car. "What took so long? Are we secret agents, now?"

      "I thought you said to wait a few minutes?"

      "You're so cute. Come on." Diane's window slid up and she drove past. Kevin hurried into his car, started it up, and got behind her at the parking lot exit. He could hardly believe how the night was progressing. An hour ago he was swept up in anonymous love, now??"almost by magic??"he was headed to spend the night with the object of his devotion. He eyed the movements of her head through her rear window. He worried the ride in separate cars would give her a chance to change her mind, but she parked and got out in front of an apartment building and directed him to a section of available parking. 

      She seemed to have grown a touch shy as he had feared, but her smile contained an encouraging flirtation. She hurried ahead of him and he followed to where she waited, the door to her building held open behind her. She bounded ahead again, and Kevin had to hurry to catch the door and find her rounding a corner inside. Her cute butt through her pizza manager pants??"the same one he'd been admiring for months at work??"disappeared from view. He caught her waiting for the elevator, and she blushed and hid her face in the corner. 

      The doors opened and they both stepped on. 

      She faced him. "We can never date, you know. I signed a contract when I became a manager. It's against the rules for me to date people under me."

      "So what am I doing here?"

      "We can be friends. There's no rule against that. Besides, you have to pay up."

	The elevator opened to a dimly lit hall with the musty, vague smell of a motel, but stepping into Diane's room was like crossing a portal into an enchanted world by comparison. The place was immaculate. The same grayish carpet as the hall was so clean it glowed. A pink carpet just inside the door, whose long strands had turned dark at the edges, was the only sign of grime. Diane kicked her shoes off and set them on the circle of carpet. She moved through the room turning on lamps. "I like light."

	Kevin ventured across the living room and looked into the kitchen. A bottle of wine gurgled as Diane filled her glass. She passed him on her way by. "Grab a beer from the fridge."

	A few bottles were scattered near the back. Kevin twisted the top off one and sipped. He stepped into the living room and stopped short. "What is this?"

	Diane gave a slight shrug and smiled. "I'm a stickler about coasters."

	"Okay, but why..."

	"You're paying up on the bet, aren't you?"

	"Of course."

	"Well then."

	Diane sat with her glass of wine on the wooden armrest of the couch, coaster underneath. The other coaster sat on the carpet just past her feet.

	"So you want me to sit on the floor?"

	"Not sit." Diane lifted her glass and sipped. With her legs crossed, one socked foot swung above the floor. 

	Kevin tried to lighten the mood with a sheepish grin, but Diane countered with a confident smile. Kevin wanted to kneel in front of her, to massage her feet, and he knew she knew. He moved forward, leaned his knees into the floor, and sat back on his heels. He took another quick sip of his beer then set it on the coaster as Diane stretched her foot toward him. Kevin took it in his hands. 

	"Oh, yes," Diane said as soon as he began massaging, then giggled lightly. Kevin focused on his task, keeping his eyes down. He squeezed one hand around the top part of her foot and applied circular pressure underneath with his knuckles. He attempted to bring technical proficiency to performing this task to alleviate the straining in the tightening crotch of his jeans. He needed to take his mind off what he was doing before his discomfort got worse, not to mention obvious. 

Diane seemed intent on not letting him. "You look so cute down there," she said. "Fitting, don't you think? You lost the bet and now have to kneel before your victor."

	"I have to listen to you tease me, too?"

	Diane's other foot slid across the carpet, stopping between his knees. "Oh, yes. You have to, part of being the loser. Can you take it?"

	"You are a good 31 player. I admit it."

	"No, that's not good enough." She sipped her wine. "You have to say, 'Diane is a superior 31 player, and I pledge myself as her foot masseuse for the night.'"

	Kevin laughed. He ran his thumb along her instep, giving circular massages under each toe. 

	"You have to say it."

	Keeping her foot held up, Kevin reached for his beer with his other hand and took a swig. He let the liquid swish through his dry mouth before swallowing. "I didn't know that was part of the bet."

	"Just say it."

He peeked up at her face, saw her smiling down at him, and quickly lowered his gaze. "Diane is a superior 31 player, and I pledge myself as her foot masseuse for the night."

	"Good. Very good. See? That wasn't hard, was it? Switch." She pulled her foot away and lifted the other, raising it almost up near his face. Kevin took her foot in his hands, moved it above his lap, and began with the same slow massage he'd given the other. Diane leaned back, settling on the couch. Her feet encroached on where Kevin knelt. "That feels so, so good." Her eyes closed.

	Kevin shifted on the floor, easing the pinching in his fly by maneuvering room. While he did make himself more comfortable, he also made his present state of excitement pointedly obvious. The minimal friction of his jeans caused a pleasurable flutter. He focused on Diane's foot, giving the bottom penetrating massages with his knuckles then stroking the top with his other hand from her leg all the way to her toes. He listened to Diane softly moaning to determine what she liked. He lost himself in his task for a long while. When he came out of his trance, and grabbed his beer for a sip, he found Diane's eyes had opened. She smiled down at him, her manner seemed drastically changed from just moments ago. "Hold it still." Her eyes flitted to the beer in his hand, still on the coaster. 

	She withdrew her foot from his grasp and slowly moved it over the bottle. She caught his eye, gave him a smile??"the smile was the change in her manner, gone from confident but playful to playful but insistent. Her big toe touched the rim of his beer and circled it. Kevin held the bottle still, didn't utter a word or give a gesture of complaint. He simply watched her foot in the same trance he'd slipped into during the massage. Her tight socks revealed the shape of her toes. With the dexterity of fingers, they grasped the top of the bottle and twisted back and forth. Her big toe pressed as far inside the bottle's lip as it could reach. Finally, she pulled her foot back. "Okay, go ahead."

	Kevin paused only slightly. He couldn't look up, though he knew her smile beamed down on him. He raised the bottle, touched it to his lips, and drank.

	"Well? How did it taste...better?"

	"Oh, yes, it was wonderful," he said, though he hadn't noticed a change. The beer taste overpowered. Really, he would have wanted to simply touch where her foot had been to his lips and not drink at all, but he couldn't with her watching.

	She crossed her legs, her foot bobbed in front of him. "I'd like you to start using my name when you answer me." 

	"Okay, Diane."

	"Say yes."

	"Yes, Diane."

	"Good boy." Diane leaned forward. "Now, I want you to take my socks off, but do it slowly. Very slow and very sexy. Can you do that?"

	"Yes, Diane." Kevin cupped the heel of her foot that hung above the floor and squeezed. He moved his hand up, brushing her sock until his fingertips met smooth skin. He curled a finger under the elastic of her white athletic sock. Twisting in a zig-zag, he slowly tugged the sock down to her heel. Slipped it over and massaged her bare heel with his hand. He brought the sock down the length of her foot the same way, massaging her skin as he peeled the sock off. He removed it completely and gave each of her toes a squeeze and a slight tug, admiring the sight of them. 

	Diane switched her legs so that her other socked foot hung in the air. Kevin thought he heard a sigh escape her as her thighs swished together. He removed her other sock, slowly massaging as he went. He set the second on top of the first in a pile on the carpet. 

	Diane leaned back into the couch again. "Let me ask you a question, and I know you're very shy, but I want you to answer honestly. Earlier tonight, when I invited you over, before I told you about how I couldn't date you, were you hoping to kiss me?"

	Her foot kicked toward where he knelt in front of her. Under the circumstances, he felt silly being scared to admit it, but he could barely meet her gaze as he answered, "Yes, Diane."

	She smiled. "Awww, you're so cute. Blushing at my feet. Did you fantasize about kissing me on your drive over?"

	"Yes, Diane."

	"Well, your fantasy might come true. Though it's probably not going to happen exactly as you imagined. Do you still want to kiss me?"

	"Yes, Diane."

	She frowned slightly. "I know you can be more polite than that."

	"Yes, Diane, please."

	She straightened her leg, her foot rose to just under Kevin's chin. She pressed her foot down so that her leg from toe to hip stretched its full length. "Go ahead. Kiss me."

	At his eye level, Kevin could glimpse, under her pant leg, her smooth calf. He knew what she wanted, what she offered him, and he desired it as much as the kiss on her lips she had correctly guessed he'd driven over hoping to receive. This alternative was beyond compensation, it was bliss. He bent forward and placed a soft kiss on her foot. 

	"Good. Very good boy," she said. "Now, one on the bottom." She pointed her toes up, and the bottom of her foot hung inches from his face. "And you don't have to be so quick. You can give me a nice, long kiss. Don't be shy."

	Kevin moved his face forward and touched his lips to her, holding them pursed against her heel. She slid her foot down and pushed until her heel cupped under his chin, her instep pressed against the bridge of his nose, and the soft arch of her foot covered his mouth. He remained there, not breathing for several seconds, then drew away with a soft kiss.

	She stared over her foot at him. A smug expression played on her face but she looked, as well, excited and happy. Kevin felt an emanating heat from the humiliation of what he'd just done, but he smiled up at her, equally excited and happy. Diane swiped her foot across his cheek, and Kevin pecked after it as it passed his lips. 

	"Open your mouth and show me how you wished you could kiss me on your drive over." Her feet lifted into the air, and she pressed the bottoms against his face. Kevin moved from one to the other, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses on them. The smell of dank sweat struck his nostrils as he inhaled with his lips sealed over her feet but contained the fragrance of intimacy. His closeness with the object of his devotion made the smell and taste of her immediately pleasant. He lost himself in his passion, and a moan escaped him. 

	"Oooh, good boy, that's it. Moan for me." Her feet pressed harder, and Kevin pressed back. His tongue slipped out and curled around a toe. At the top of his periphery, he caught Diane's hand slide down her belly and slip under the waistband of her pants. Her moans joined his. Her other hand popped the button on her pants, and soon the two roving hands spread the zipper open. Kevin moaned harder, licked and kissed faster, but peeked up and glimpsed fingers slide under the purple triangle of Diane's panties. Her eyes closed, and her body rippled against the couch as her hands bulged the purple material from her open pants. Her feet began to flail. Toes filled his mouth. His cheeks were caught with wild slaps. 

      He tried futilely to match her intensity. The locked pleasure in the tight fly of his jeans pulsed only faintly and uselessly as he witnessed Diane pleasuring herself. Her moans became high-pitched, frantic sighs and she seemed to have forgotten about him. His face might have been her footboard for all the attention she gave him. 

      Kevin had seen women come before, but he had always been so involved in his performance, so absorbed by his own building climax. Watching from his knees, Diane appeared so powerful and beautiful, able to conjure such a force in her own body with the touch of her hands. Kevin's experiences with his own hand??"desperate as he felt to use it presently??"paled in comparison. Her feet suddenly went rigid, pressed against his face with a big toe in his mouth. She shrieked as her hand vibrated up and down inside her panties. 

	An orgasm that lasted minutes made Kevin wonder if, in fact, he had ever seen a woman come before. The slits of her eyes opened, and finding him staring wide-eyed back at her, she reached with her feet for the top of his head, pinched his hair with her toes, and pulled down. Her feet went to the back of his head and she kept him pinned, his nose touched to the carpet. "Stay," she said.

	He heard her hands still fidgeting, but her breath slowed and quieted. After a while, her feet slipped off. Kevin raised his head slowly, keeping his eyes down. Asking for permission, by moving slowly, to look up again. She allowed it. She smiled down at him. A light covering of sweat was the only evidence of the powerful outburst, laced with femininity, for which he felt honored to have been present.

	Diane's gaze dropped slightly, her smile remained, and Kevin felt suddenly, humiliatingly aware of his erection pressing against the fly of his jeans. The denim felt like shackles. He imagined her reaching out and pressing there with her toes, knew her touch, even with the denim barrier, would be more pleasurable than anything he had ever experienced. But her foot lightly swung in front of him, tantalizingly close but no nearer. "Well, you should probably go," she said.

	"Of course, sure." Kevin downed the last of his beer and rose. Diane grinned and made no effort to hide her amusement as his embarrassing predicament gained prominence with him standing. "Well, bye."

	Diane got up as he was halfway to her door. "Wait."

	Kevin turned. 

	"You can kiss my feet goodbye." She stood directly in front of him. Nearly a head shorter, he had never noticed. He slowly climbed down onto his hands and knees. He stretched his face forward, lowered it, and placed a soft kiss on top of her foot. He started to rise. "I said feet," she said, "not foot." He moved to the other and as his lips touched, she said, "And stay."

	He remained with his lips pressed to her foot, as she squatted down. She patted his head. "Good boy. See you at work."