by Casper D
My name is Leland Withers and I love football.
Midget league is where I began playing football. I was eight years old. I played for the Rams under my beloved coach Tobey Parks. I took to it well. Morse County got to play at the high school every Wednesday night. The first year I played with the 8-10 group then after a year they moved me up to the 11-12’s. I guess I was pretty fast for the league because I’d score two to three touchdowns a night. That’s when I figured I could play football.
Those were the days.
I remember I ran the ball a lot because I was tired after games. The next day I would be tired and sore going to school and a little hungover from working so hard. I’ve got good memories from those years playing with those guys and winning the championship when I was a teen. I remember getting tackled HARD once and I got the wind knocked out of me. I couldn’t breathe and I’d never felt that before. Then it was on to junior high. When your wind gets knocked out the way mine had, you’d wonder how I’m alive to tell this story.
I you exhaled, my diaphragm relaxed and got pushed back up to expel the air from my lungs. I had taken punches to my gut AND back, so my diaphragm essentially spasmed and tightened up, rendering it useless. And without my diaphragm working properly, I wasn’t able to breathe and I passed out cold. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough to embarrass me to the point where I just played dead.
Coach Parks rushed out to me. Handsome, built like a tank and with sea green eyes. He was brown-haired and green-eyed. I was blond with blue eyes and was called handsome. Even “pretty”. But Coach Parks was like a sculpted Greek deity. He was so handsome his looks hurt your eyes! And he had size 14 feet. I was born with a fetish for feet and whenever I caught a glimpse of the coach’s feet bare, I swear I practically drooled. Long toes, surprisingly smooth soles and clear toenails. I loved the guy, not just because he was so good-looking, but because he’d helped me through the years in our relatively small town and county.
He didn’t teach me sports (that was my dad) but polished my mechanics. I think he knew how advanced my skills were. He never bragged about them like my dad did, but he knew what to do to keep me advancing. He more than did his job as a coach, and at home, he would always tell my dad what I should be working on.
Anyway, I was pretending to be knocked out on the field. Coach and some other carried me off, and when we got back to the gym he lay me on a table and undressed me. I pretended to stay disoriented as he. pulled off my cleats and seemed oddly interested in the sweaty socks still on my feet. He then sent everyone else home and announced that he’d be personally driving me back to my place.
So, after the others departed, me and Coach were alone.
You know what I found out in the next few moments? The Coach had a foot fetish as well! What were the odds? I didn’t know anyone else who had a foot fetish, except for the guy whose feet I’d wanted the most!
But right now he clearly wanted MY feet!
He carried me to a lounge and plunked me down on it. Coach somehow knew I wouldn’t resist … that I’d actually love this sort of attention and hoped that maybe I’d get a chance to reciprocate. He ran his nose along the base of my toes, but my sock got in the way. He grabbed the tip of my sock with his teeth and pulled it, making my sock slide out about half-way, exposing my heel. I put my warm foot back on his face, touching it from chin to forehead, then patted his nose a few times with my sole and toes. My heel was smooth and soft. I didn't have thick or rough skin at the bottoms of my feet. My soles were as soft and smooth as an infant's. I brought my semi-bared foot up in front of his face again. He sniffed at my heel and sole, sticking his nose under my sock, feeling the bare portions of my foot on his lips and chin. The contact with my bare foot seemed to enrapture him, and he wasn't ashamed to show it.
He held my sock and ankle with his left hand, slowly and gently sliding his right hand under my loose sock, caressing the sole and toes of my foot. I shut my eyes, leaned back and sighed with pleasure. I calmed myself a bit as he ran his fingers slowly through my toes and played with them--grabbing each toe between his thumb and forefinger, gently tugging and waggling them through my socks and feeling between them over my toenails.
Coach removed my socks completely, and soon he was holding my bare foot in front of his face. He claimed it was the most beautiful male foot he'd ever seen. Then was on his knees before me. He leaned forward a little in order to look at the portion of my feet that most excited him . . . the part of my toes where my nails were. He said all of my toes and nails were perfect. He began to feel both of my feet with both his hands, fingers, face and lips. He ferociously licked both of my feet all over, sucked my ten toes, licked in between my toes. He performed oral sex on my feet, and as he did so I felt a pleasure that encompassed both my penis and 'other' erogenous places on my body. I had never felt such intense pleasure before.
I fainted AGAIN.
To be continued…
