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It began when I was 5. . . was always drawn to my dad's feet. . . he had very smelly feet, but well defined as well as masculine toes, square, they reminded always of what "Fred Flintstones" feet would be if he were human. . . He would sleep with his feet sticking out of the blanket, and sleep very deeply, which afforded me the opportunity to sneak in and take a sniff (quickly) and just play around his bedroom all the while always making sure I can see them from any part of the room.
As I got older my brother started to follow me and do everything I did, as little brothers do! As my budding fetish/sexuality became more apparent, I would always draw him into dad's bedroom (without fail) and lure him toward the feet and when the time was right grab him by the back of the head and force his face into daddy's toes, he'd run screaming from the room in tears. . . I couldn't help myself, so I would do this for as long as I could remember, and he'd always fall into the same trap..
As I grew older, through my teen years, and finally adulthood my appreciation for men's feet were clear and between my own self adoration of my own, and taking care of my man's (whom ever at the time) they ALL loved this particular aspect of our relationships. . . .
Now the duration of every love affair may not have endured but THEY ALL loved the attention to details paid to each and everyone of their feet. . . God. . . how I adore a man's good-looking foot. . . I currently live in Atlanta, soon to move to Florida where I hope the foot clubs might be many to choose, it seems Atlantans are slim pickins when it comes to this fetish.
Maybe there is hope.
