I’ve learned that telling a woman you like her feet is always a gamble.

Even though many people will freely admit that feet can be beautiful, it seems to be another proposition entirely when you confess to liking “foot stuff” in bed. To each their own, but I personally cannot see what’s so wrong about wanting to experience pleasure from head to toe — literally.

A while back, I read a story about a guy like me who runs a shoe store — and that got me thinking maybe I needed to change up my usual dating scene. I could never hold it together long enough to work around feet in a shoe store all day, but I decided I should try a gig where feet are just a given and thus maybe less of a big deal.

A gig where feet are often bare. A gig where your feet can be happy, sinking into sand (unless the sand is too hot). The foot factor, plus the hours and an excuse to be at the beach all day, is what ultimately made me complete lifeguard training.

It’s also true that male lifeguards generally have no shortage of beach admirers, and the physical demands of the job make your body nice and ripped by default. I’m six-foot-two, in my late twenties — definitely not bad-looking. I’m a Florida-raised beach bum through and through, and during the high season, there’s just no end to the parade of gorgeous babes frolicking around in tiny bikinis. Sometimes it’s a herculean effort not to get distracted and pitch a tent in your regulation lifeguard trunks when you need to focus on swimmers. That said, it was a clear day with no riptides and a minimal weekday crowd when I spotted this gorgeous babe strolling down the sand.

Jessica was a classic, curvy blonde wearing a powder-pink string bikini and white retro-style sunglasses. I watched as she laid out her towel and pulled out a book to read. With my binoculars, I checked the glassy blue water — all was calm, with only a couple of people in the shallows and one older guy exercise-swimming.

I swept my magnified gaze over the beach next, and then held steady on the new blonde sunbather. There was no annoying chick-lit novel in her hands. She was reading one of my favorite true-crime books. Also, her polished toes matched the pink in her swimsuit. The book and the toes were a double whammy for me.

An hour or so later, when my shift came to an end, I climbed down the ladder, grabbed two cans of sparkling water from the cooler, put them in my daypack, and headed toward my pink lady. She smiled as I got closer.

“Hi, I just got done with my shift. I’ve got a couple of sparkling waters in here,” I said, tapping my pack, “and wondered if I could interest you in one. Fresh out of the cooler.”

She smiled. “I saw you in the chair. And yeah, something cold sounds nice.”

“Tristan,” I said, offering my hand.

“Jessica,” she answered with another smile.

I sat on the sand next to her, popped open a chilled can, and passed it to her. As I opened my own sparkling water, this gorgeous woman, roughly my age, asked, “Are you a lifeguard full-time?”

“Yes and no. I’m also wrapping up school.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been taking premed courses. What about you?”

“I’m studying psychology, actually.”

“I might have guessed by your reading material,” I said, gesturing toward her book.

“I’ve always liked true crime,” Jessica told me. “I’m fascinated by what makes people tick — and not only bad guys. Good guys, too.”

“Really? I would think what makes us tick is pretty boring. Or maybe just obvious, I guess.” I adjusted my sunglasses.

Without missing a beat, Jessica teased, “So you’re saying you’re a good guy, huh?” She saved me from having to comment by continuing, “I see your point, Tristan, but even if good guys have a lot of motives in common, everyone’s different — different tastes, outlooks, dreams.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “Speaking of motives, and forgive me for this segue, but I was wondering — do you have a boyfriend?”

Jessica chuckled and shook her head. “Nope. Not anymore.”

I couldn’t hide my smile. “In that case, would you be up for hanging out sometime — off the sand?”

The beauty beside me gave a little smirk, and I deserved it. “How many women do you ask out with that line?”

Busted. “Um, actually, I don’t really — ”

“I’m just teasing!” She gave my leg a gentle nudge with her perfect foot.

I felt my heart flutter. “Wow,” I couldn’t stop from saying.

“What?” Jessica asked. Now she looked concerned. “Really, I was just kidding.”

I grinned. “No, not that. You have really nice feet. I like the polish, too.”

Giggling, Jessica thanked me for the compliment. Then, to my delight and torment, she footsied my leg again, wiggling her toes. “I used to study dance,” she added. “It really makes you appreciate your feet — and take care of them.”

“I believe it.” My heart was pounding. Had I stumbled across a rare jewel? A fellow foot lover in shapely female form? “Do you get pedicures a lot?” I asked.

“Weekly. And I put tons of lotion on my feet, too.”

“Nice.” After a pause, I decided to go for it. “Did you put on any lotion today?”

“Not yet,” she said. A moment later Jessica leaned in closer to me. “I’ll tell you what, though. I’d really love a foot rub tonight. Maybe after some dinner?”

I wanted to jump to my feet and scream, “YES!” But with a concerted effort, I managed to maintain my composure. “Yeah, I’d definitely be up for that.”

“Great,” she said. “I’ll give you my number.”

I pulled out my phone, and moments later I had the digits (pun intended) of this sexy woman with perfect feet.

To cut to the chase, our dinner went really well. Afterward, we drove to a seafront nature preserve at sunset — a beautiful place, with some privacy.

The sinking sun had turned a few rippled clouds pink — you couldn’t ask for a better effect. I pulled Jessica in for a kiss, and that quickly led to more kissing as we stood on a grassy strip beside a park bench in the most remote stretch of the preserve. No one else was in sight.

In the velvety twilight, Jessica hugged me close. “Foot rub time?” she asked huskily.

“I’d be thrilled to give those feet some appreciation,” I responded.

Jessica grinned. “My feet thank you in advance.” She opened her purse and pulled out a small bottle of cocoa butter lotion.

Taking the lotion, I said, “I will give them the attention they deserve.”

We sat down on the isolated park bench. I watched dreamily as she pulled off her espadrilles and put both of her bare feet in my lap. The bulge in my shorts was already conspicuous — and that was before I even touched her feet, or happened to notice the perfect upskirt view of her pink thong.

I squirted some lotion onto a palm and warmed it between my hands, then I began slowly massaging her left foot. Jessica leaned back against the bench. “God, that feels so good....”

As I worked, I savored every curve and bone in her foot, and singled out her toes, one by one, for mini-massages. Blissing out, Jessica closed her eyes. A short time later, I saw her right hand slide beneath her skirt and slip beneath her thong.

I planted a kiss on the ball of her left foot and nuzzled her toes. Her hand was still up her skirt, her eyes closed. A few moments later, I said, “How’s this feel?”

“Wonderful,” she said. Then she held my gaze with a sly, sexual look. “I’m enjoying myself — fully.”

I grinned and said, “I can see that. And why not?”

“Don’t forget my other foot,” Jessica said, and closed her eyes again, two of her fingers still moving inside her pussy.

“I’ll head over there right now,” I replied, and began to give her right foot the same adoration, using more lotion.

I wasn’t sure what was driving me crazier — getting to worship her sexy feet, or watching her pleasure herself to my work. Needless to say, I felt like my dick was going to tear a hole through my shorts.

I could hear Jessica’s fingers slipping in and out of her wetness in time to the strokes I gave her foot. I kissed all around her ankle, then pushed her toes into my mouth. As I did this, her left foot began caressing the bulge in my shorts.

“Maybe it’s time you had a little release,” she purred.

I unzipped my shorts and my raging hard-on appeared. Jessica wasted no time, moving her right foot to my cock and cradling it between her soft, moistened feet.

“How’s that feel?” she whispered, her arches stroking my shaft.

I was as turned on as I’d ever been — this gorgeous blonde pushing every one of my pleasure buttons. “Keep touching yourself while you touch me, baby,” I said.

Jessica opened her legs wide while her feet worked wonders on my dick. A woman who gives a good foot job is not easy to find. By approaching her at the beach I’d found a precious gem in the sand. She took me almost to the brink before we agreed that we wanted more.

By now it was almost night. Jessica lay down on her back and put her legs up, with her feet on either side of my face. I thrust my dick inside her and began to pump. Her pussy felt incredible. I kissed and sucked her toes as we fucked.

Jessica came first, digging her nails into my forearms.

“Oh my God, Tristan — yes!” she cried. And in that moment, her pleasure was my pleasure. I moved her feet even closer to my face, bringing her legs together. This made her pussy squeeze my cock even tighter, which sent me over the edge. I’d never experienced an orgasm this intense, and for a moment was lost to the world.

Catching her breath, Jessica looked up at me, smiling wickedly. “Next time you’ll have to finish on my feet,” she said.

I grinned like an idiot. “Deal!” I replied.

Jessica’s in my life now. It’s great being with someone who enjoys my love of feet. Sometimes she even lets me pick out her toe polish!