by Owen Jones
*This is a completely true story of how I used my brain to manipulate my old group of friends to give me exactly what I wanted. We have since drifted over the years, but this story happened when I was younger. Although I had them wrapped around my finger without them realising, I too was oblivious to the fact of how lucky I was, because I have yet to have another experience like this since. Looking back on the whole experience, it does seem very clichéd, however I can assure you this is one hundred percent truth.*
One day in early March, I was hanging out with my friend PJ in the small green area beside his house. We had only recently become friends as he had moved to my school and he happened to live very near me.
He was the typical jock; blonde hair, chiselled jaw bones, perfect skin, a faint six pack showing with bulging biceps, calves and a bum to die for. But I wasn’t interested in any of this. What I wanted were the perfect size twelve feet he kept within his trainers under a pair of white Nike socks. You know the type, the typical foot attire of anyone that spends more time in the gym than their own home! Thankfully, I knew just how to get them.
PJ wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, but he made up for this in many other areas. He was very kind, absolutely hilarious and drop dead gorgeous – and the best bit about that last part was that he didn’t even know it! I had seen his feet on a few occasions before; in the swimming pool, whenever he stayed over in my house or whenever I called into his before school – we used to walk together – and when he wasn’t ready yet, I’d sit on his bed and marvel at his Godly gifts as he searched for his socks.
Anyway, as we sat on the grass out on the large green of his housing estate, I told him about an old friend of mine that had since moved away. I have no idea how the topic actually came up, but we got talking about a game of ‘truth or dare’ that I had played with my old friend. Of course, the game had never happened, but PJ didn’t need to know that!
I told him about how my friend dared me to ‘play the xylophone’ using my nose on his toes. I explained how I had to rub my nose from one of his baby toes, across all of his other ones as far as his other baby toe. I couldn’t help but notice the fascination flash in PJ’s eyes as he laughed aloud at me.
“Are you serious? You did that?!”
“Well yeah,” I lied, “the point of dares is that you have to actually do the dare.”
Little did I know at the time, but the next thing he said turned out to bring the best few months of my life upon me!
“Wanna play now?” he asked.
“Dares?” I questioned hesitantly, yet hopefully.
“You heard me,” he said with a nod.
“I dunno,” I replied, “I have to go home for dinner soon…”
It physically pained me to say these words, but I didn’t want to seem over-eager. I had to make him think he was tricking me, when in fact; poor PJ was getting hustled out of ownership of his God-like physique.
“C’mon you pussy! Just one dare each and then you can go stuff your fat little gob.”
“Fine,” I replied with a chuckle, “but I get to go first!”
“Go first, I don’t care!”
“Hmmm…OK…I dare you…to…smell my shoes for thirty seconds,” I say hesitantly, not sure of how he would take it.
He stared at me for a few moments and I began to curse myself instantly. I had blown it all before it had even started!
“Well?” he said, “I’m hardly going to take them off for you, am I?”
“You want to do it here?” I ask, glancing over at a large clump of shrubbery a few meters away.
“You’re right. C’mon, my parents aren’t home for an hour or so, we can go to mine.”
He got to his feet and I excitedly got to mine, following close behind and trying to fight the erection fighting to poke through my jeans. He led me to his back door and took me inside. We went straight to his room and he sat down on the bed.
“Go on then,” he said casually, “take them off.”
I took off my grey ankle-high Converse, I could feel the heat from my foot sweat wafting out of them and grinned as I tossed them to him. He took them both in his hand.
“Thirty seconds?”
I nodded and he instantly took the two to his nose, half-heartedly inhaling. I could tell he was barely within smelling distance of the tattered shoes, but I didn’t want to say anything. This was just the beginning, baby steps. There would be plenty of other opportunities in the future hopefully.
Again, I could feel my cock throbbing in my jeans – which I was very lucky to be wearing, I realised. If I had chosen a pair of my sweatpants, the boner raging would have poked up and hit PJ in the face. I learned to wear jeans around him from that early on.
“Here, surely that’s thirty seconds,” he said, and tossed the shoes back at me, “now it’s my turn.”
I slipped on my shoes quickly and sat back down on his desk chair, opposite him on the bed.
“Oh no, on your knees.”
“What?” I retorted, assuming he was asking for me to choke on his cock.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he lay back down on the bed with his feet hanging off the edge. Then, he kicked off his runners and his massive white socked feet stared up at me. They smelled a lot worse than mine did, but I wanted them all over my face. I observed them carefully, there were sweat imprints of his toes and heel pressed into the sock and he was wiggling his toes beneath the white cotton. I honestly thought I was going to cum, it was surprisingly he hadn’t noticed the bulge fighting to break from my trousers.
“Take off my socks, you’re going to be revisiting the xylophone,” he chuckled as I stared back at him, feigning disgust.
“Seriously? I told you I didn’t like that!” I protested.
“Well I guess I’m going to teach you to learn from your mistake.”
“Mistake?” I question.
“Telling me what you don’t like,” he laughed, grabbing me behind the neck and shoving my face into his socks, “take them off with your teeth.”
Without hesitation, I began to work on his beautiful socks, edging them off inch by inch with my teeth, ‘accidentally’ letting parts of the sock into my mouth, where I sneakily rubbed my tongue into the sweaty material. He teased me as I worked it though, pressing his foot hard against my face or wiggling his toes, making it harder and harder to remove the socks.
When I finally pried them loose, and leaned towards his bare toes – the skin free from callous yet soaked in sweat – he stopped me by pressing his foot to my forehead and pushing me away.
“Pick my socks up with your teeth,” he ordered and I obliged without making eye contact.
I worked them into my mouth – letting them slip further inside than they really needed to be simply because of the smell and damp feel to them that drove my dick insane. As I lifted my head up to look at him, he smirked at me and used his toes to shove the socks deeper into my salivating gob.
“Xylophone now, with those in your mouth,” he ordered and I pressed my face to his massive sweaty soles, running my nose along the tips of his toes slowly – wanted to desperately reach down and jerk my cock but resisting.
I was in heaven.
That was when my phone vibrated in my pocket – it was time to go home for dinner. I half expected him to take the phone off me and force me to stay there with him, and part of me wanted him to do just that, but he pulled his feet away from me and instructed me to put his socks back on, still coated in my saliva.
“This was fun, we should definitely play dares again,” he smirked.
Little did I know then, but a bit of toe sniffing was nothing compared to what was to come!
To be continued…
(Tell me what you think and if I should continue with this! I swear to you all that it is 100% true!)
