by Greg Dunlop
When I first met my husband, I told him of my foot fetish and how I was hoping he would let me worship his feet. He told me he had only read about this but always wondered what it would be like having someone suck his toes. He soon came to take pleasure in rubbing his feet across my face and teasing me with his toes. Soon worshiping his feet had become a regular part of our lives.
Foot worshiping changed when Lance’s ex-wife got remarried. His son, Eric, did not get along at all with his new step-dad. Eric came to live with us temporarily; Lance was of course called, Dad, and I became Pop. However, temporarily ended up lasting for seventeen years. Eric is and has always been a good kid, and it was nice watching him grow up. With Eric in the house, our foot fun came to an end.
I came to accept this and had even come to believe that maybe my foot fetish had become a thing of the past. All of this changed seventeen years later on hot and humid summer day. We were outside lying in the sun working on our tans. Lance took his towel and was wiping the sweat off his chest when my eyes went down to his feet. He was flexing his feet and wiggling his toes. In about two seconds, I had a boner and realized that my husband’s feet still made me horny. I so badly wanted to get up, go to his chaise lounge chair, kneel at his feet and kiss each of his toes. Unfortunately, I did nothing.
Later that day, I started looking at websites like www.myfriendsfeet.com and others. I secretly copied pictures of men’s feet, men’s feet in flip-flops, and men getting their toes sucked. Looking at these pictures kept getting me horny in wanting to worship Lance’s feet. I decided at that point I was going to work up the nerve to talk to Lance and see if he would be interested in resuming foot worship after such a long time.
Things changed when Lance decided to work at home for a few days. One afternoon when I got home Lance told me that he was having computer problems, so he decided to use my laptop. He told me that he had discovered my folder of men’s feet and that over the years he had often thought about how much he enjoyed having me on the floor at his feet. Lance then proceeded to tell me that foot worshiping would resume, if I was interested, but there would be a few guidelines. My heart was racing as I agreed while hoping to be at his feet in a few seconds. “I was hoping you’d agree,” as he winked at me.
He then told me to go to our bedroom and look under his pillow. There I would find a package; I was to undress, put on the item, come back to him, and I had one minute to do this. I soon found a red jockstrap, undressed, put on the jock strap and went back to the living room. Lance had taken off his shirt and slacks and now wearing a pair of black Calvin Klein briefs, with his socks and dress shoes still on, sitting in his favorite overstuffed chair.
Lance told me to kneel and kiss the tops of his shoes. He then told me that I was now his foot slave. I was to always address him as SIR whenever we were having foot fun. Otherwise, the rest of the time we were Lance and Greg: happily married gay men. I was told not to touch my dick at all during foot worship time until he shot his load, and I was only allowed to cum whenever he would give me permission. Every morning, I would kiss his feet good morning when he woke up. I was to also put on his shoes and socks every morning when he got dressed for work and then take them off when he returned home from work. I was to always wear one of the jockstraps he bought for me whenever we engaged in foot worship unless he told me otherwise. He also informed me that trimming his toenails was also part of my duties as his foot slave. I agreed.
With our new roles agreed upon, he then told me to take off his shoes and sniff inside them, telling me to take deeper whiffs. A few seconds later, his feet were now being rubbed across my face, and he then told me to sniff his sweaty socks as well. “Take deeper whiffs; get used to this smell.” He then asked me if I could handle this honor. I quickly told him, “Yes SIR.” He then told me that he wanted to hear those words for over seventeen years.
Still smelling his damp, vinegary smelling socks, I started moaning with pleasure thinking of how much I had missed doing this. Lance then told me the damp, tart, vinegary smell his socks gave off from wearing them all day would soon smell better to me than the most expensive cologne. He told me when I licked his sweaty soles clean to think of this as savoring a fine, rare wine. His toe jam was to be thought of as feasting on a priceless gourmet cheese. Earning the pleasure of sucking his toes was to be thought of as eating a ten- course meal in the finest of restaurants.
On my knees getting turned on in resuming our foot play, I really enjoyed having those sweaty socks being held up to my nose. My work had begun as I was starting to think of these sweaty socks as my favorite cologne. A few minutes later, I was told to remove his socks and take a final whiff of them.
“Like their smell, foot slave.”
“Yes SIR.”
He then held his unsocked feet up to my nose as I moaned with an ecstasy in smelling them. He wiggled his toes in front of my face and told me I better not put one toe in my mouth until he gave me permission. Teasing me with his toes made me want to do everything I could to please him so I could be rewarded with the pleasure of sucking them.
Now his left foot was held up to my face and he told me to lick his soles. My tongue ran the entire length of his foot. I was really getting into this when he told me to lick under his toes as well. He then used his right foot and started rubbing my dick. In about two seconds, I was hard, “Make sure you don’t cum, or you’ll lose the privilege of these feet.” Soon he switched feet, and I resumed my duties.
I was moaning with pleasure and continued licking his feet. Still rubbing his crotch, he soon switched his feet for me to worship. He then told me to lick between each toe and not miss one speck of his toe jam. Following his instructions, my tongue lapped up every spec of his toe jam thinking of how I wish I could live off his toe jam as my only food.
Removing his foot from my face, I then felt his right foot once again being rubbed across my face as he was wiggling his toes. “I bet you’d love to suck these toes, wouldn’t you?” Before I could say anything, he shoved his foot in my mouth. “You did well for this first lesson, so you will be given the privilege of sucking my toes.” He then put his left foot up to my face and told me to start off sucking his little toe. I did as I was told. A minute later he told me to move on to the next toe and start sucking. SIR told me he would tell me which toe to suck on and when to do it. When I moved on to his big toe, he told me to put it in my mouth and hold it there. He rubbed his big toe all around the inside of my mouth and then told me to suck on it.
I was savoring the piece of resistance-the pleasure of sucking my husband’s/SIR’s toes. It was getting really heated as I was being told which toe or toes to put in my mouth. Now SIR was still stroking his dick faster and faster. While sucking the toes on his left foot, he quickly removed his foot from my mouth and used his feet to pull my head up to his open legs. My mouth was now around his dick and within a few seconds, my mouth was filled with his delicious warm cum. I swallowed every drop.
With this initial day of training, SIR told me that my own cumming would not take place. SIR told that there was a plastic foot tub in the guest bathroom. I was told to fill it with water and to grab a towel to wash his feet clean. Drying his now cleaned feet, he then handed me a bottle of moisturizer telling me to rub this on his feet while I give him a foot massage.
It’s been almost two years now since Lance and I resumed our foot worshiping sessions. In that time, I’ve worshiped his feet in just about every room of our house, on a cruise ship, various hotel room around the country, and even in the guest room of his sister’s house during Christmas. I’m even used to having him tell me when I can cum. What can I say, but I love worshiping my husband’s feet. Yes, my husband’s feet still make me horny.
