by Jay Saldivar
“All tickets, all tickets please.”
The conductor began to make his way down the stairs towards the lower level of this double decker New Jersey Transit train.
There was always something quiet and quaint about rail travel. You could lean with your head against the window, feeling the music in your ear buds, enjoying the scenery. I always particularly enjoyed this lower level because you can pull up to a station and be at eye level with the platform. I enjoyed the view from here.
“Ticket?”
Suddenly the conductor made it to my row.
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry.” I scrambled to unlock my phone screen which had a picture of a guy’s bare soles on it on Instagram. Fuck! I nearly threw it across the aisle in panic. He was looking down at his scanning device when I mustered up the courage to look up. Close call, he probably didn’t see. I finally opened my ticket and he scanned it.
“Thank you. Last stop.” he said. His voice rounded his “oh” in stop into an a, displaying his noticeable New Jersey accent. Quite fitting for his look. Fucking handsome. Short beard, stocky build, average height. The kind of guy you’d see ordering a bagel with Taylor Ham, not pork roll, on a Sunday morning at the deli.
And his boots. Black boots that most conductors wear, typical work boots. I always wonder how sweaty and rank a conductor’s feet must get in those kinds of shoes, walking up and down the aisles of the NJT trains all day. I leaned into the aisle to get a few last looks at his boots to memorize the image to replay in my head later when I’m alone. When I popped my head out, hot conductor man looked right at me. He chuckled and looked down and right back up at me. I jerked my head right back against the window. God, I need to be more subtle. Just a train ride away from home and I can release the intense horny pressure that had been building up all day.
At each stop, I managed to get a good view of some guys on the platform. Boat shoes with no socks, so close you could see the veins on the top of a guy’s feet. Rainbow brand flip flops on a jock or dress shoes on a businessman were also some of my favorites to spot. But I couldn’t shake the image of this conductor’s boots. It was something about his beard. His deep voice with his slight Jersey accent. He is exactly the kind of guy I want to get under.
“Port Jervis station. Last stop. All passengers must exit!”
Oh shit. I had fallen asleep against the window when the announcement for my station woke me up. I frantically gathered all of my stuff. It looked like I was the last one in my car. The lights in the car suddenly went out. I started running down towards the stairs, scared they didn’t realize I was still on board. I ran up to the platform level and nearly knocked into the hot conductor as he turned the corner.
“Fuck! I’m sorry!”
“Hey bro! No rush. The doors are still open.” He was still in full uniform and had a gym bag around his shoulder and was carrying a second duffle bag in his hand. “Well maybe a little rush. This train is done for the night and I’m closing it down.”
“Thanks. Have a good night,” I said. I went to put my earbuds in when I opened the case and noticed I only had one. “Fuck,” I whispered. “Do you mind if I-“
“Go back and get it.” He said before I could even finish. I sprinted down and found my earbud sitting on my chair. I grabbed it and put it in my ear.
When I returned back to the platform level, hot conductor was sitting in a row and he had taken off his tie and hat. He had them hanging on a hook. He was digging through his gym bag and took out a pair of Brooks running shoes. One of my favorite brands.
“Thanks again,” I said.
“No problem.” He responded. I wasn’t looking directly at him though, I was looking at those shoes. They were black and gray and worn, certainly not a new pair. The treads certainly looked like he put a good amount of mileage on them. Just about as hot as the scuffed and worn work boots he had on his feet.
Breaking my trance, he said, “see something you like?”
“Sorry,” I stammered out. I felt the overwhelming need to run, run home, and never take NJT again. But something in me, probably my massively erect dick, told me to stay and respond to him, “yeah, I do.”
He chuckled a bit. “I’m sure you do.”
I looked down. The blood rushed to my face, and my dick, and I felt a sudden wave of courage. Fuck it. I would never see him again. That, or I can always just never take NJT again. “How many miles do you end up walking a day?”
He looked at me. His eyes were slightly sinister, and very sexy. I felt like he was looking straight through me. “A lot.” He laughed. “They take a beating every day.”
“Are you heading to the gym?” I asked.
“Yeah, I usually try to go right away after work. If I change here, then I have no excuse.” He undid his laces.
I was fixated. He pulled on the tongue of his boot to loosen it. I could not stop staring. I didn’t even think before I said, “do you change your socks too, before the gym?”
He laughed. “No dude, I don’t. The washer in my apartment is broken, too, and I’ve been too lazy to go to the laundromat. So I wore these socks yesterday too, to the work and gym.”
“Sorry to hear about your washer.”
He looked me dead in the eye and said, “I don’t think you are.” I nearly collapsed. I didn’t blink. He kept looking at me and said, “Why don’t you take this boot off for me?”
I didn’t skip a beat. I fell right to my knees and put my hands on those big work boots. I felt like the most helpless, ravenous, foot boy. And I loved every second of it.
His boot pulled off hard. A strong whiff of air started escaping from his boots. Suddenly, he grabbed the back of my head and pushed it down into the opening of his boot. I couldn’t help but breathe in the rank air. It smelled of vinegar and sweat. The hot air enveloped my nose. I couldn’t escape under his strong grip in my hair, forcing me to breathe in his man stink. He shoved the boot into my face as he taunted that he had a long day of work. I felt my dick twitching in my pants, desperately wanting to be touched. I could not believe that this was happening.
He finally let me up and allowed me to breathe in fresh air. He was laughing, with a hint of disgust in his eyes. My brain was still foggy from what had just happened. I was ogling his boots just moments ago and now, he’s shoving my pathetic face into them.
“You foot boys are so funny to me. Liking that rank smell. I can’t believe it!” He said through his laughter. He threw his boot down and pulled his sock tight over his foot. “You asked me how many miles I walk a day…why don’t you put your foot boy nose right over here and tell me how many you think I walk a day?”
His index finger pointed to the most pungent spot on his foot – right between his big toe and next toe. I once again didn’t hesitate. My nose hit his sock so quickly and I greedily sucked it all in. The rank, vinegary smell of his socks made my eyes water and my dick nearly explode.
“That must be really fucking rank,” he said. “Surprised you’re not passing out. But tell me, how many miles does that smell like to you?”
While he pushed his wiggling toes into my face, almost muffled by the sock, I managed to say, “at least 20.” He just laughed harder.
“Something like that,” he said with a wink. He took my head and pushed me down to the ground. He stepped on my face with his toes strategically placed below my nose. I couldn’t breathe anything but his stink. I was in heaven.
I felt his big boot find my crotch. It was strong, I felt the strength of a man pushing down on my crotch with a big, dirty boot on.
“Is this what you were thinking of when you were scrolling through your little Instagram looking at feet pictures?”
Oh shit, I thought. So he saw. I couldn’t even answer.
He was grinding his boot into my dick with one foot. His other was pressed on my face, wafting more reeking stink into my nose with the other. The smell was amazing. Dominant, powerful, overwhelming. It was taking me over; I could barely think. I fell into a submissive headspace that was getting stronger with each sniff. I felt my eyes rolling back in enjoyment, I heard his laughter getting louder as he continued to laugh at the fact that I was enjoying his foot stink so much. The boot grinding into my crotch soon hit the perfect rhythm and spot because I suddenly felt myself shoot out a load right into my pants. I let out a huge moan, screaming out in pleasure. His laughter just got louder, but his toe wiggling slowed down until he moved it off my face and onto my chest. I could feel the moisture through my shirt.
“Wow man, you enjoyed that.”
I was foggy, confused. Did that really just happen? Fuck.
He took his second boot off and tossed both into his gym bag. I watched, still tranced as he took his pants off revealing his muscular legs and thighs. His buldge was huge. He put on gym shorts and slipped on his Brooks sneakers. I was sitting up, jaw completely open.
He laughed. “Get up.”
I stood up and gathered my bag and was ready to walk out and never take NJT again. I could not believe that just happened.
He stood up, now in a full gym outfit, and looked fucking hot. He tossed his gym bag across his shoulder.
“So, I wasn’t kidding about my washer being broken.” He said, breaking the silence.
“I know. I smelled it.” I said, looking down, seeing if you could see my cum through my jeans. You totally could.
“Take this.” He said, pushing the duffle bag he had into my chest. I grabbed it. “I was going to go to the laundromat after the gym but…I think you’re going to do that for me.”
The bag’s zipper wasn’t fully shut and I could see in, a jock’s hot, dirty laundry at my disposal. Fuck.
“You’re going to take care of this for me then bring it to my apartment later tonight. If you do a good job, then we’ll see about you enjoying these bare feet after the gym. My address is on the tag on the bag.”
I stood there, mouth still agape. I came hard with just his socks. I would probably black out if I came smelling his sweaty, stinky bare feet. I was still in a foot induced trance.
“I know how many socks are in that bag, too, so don’t get sneaky.”
He simply walked away, and I watched closely at his sneakers hit the ground. His long work socks hugged his muscular calves. I pinched myself and searched for the nearest laundromat.
