by Podolatrinha
A nearly translucent white shirt, drenched in sweat, revealed the details of his defined chest... his curly hair, wet with sweat, stuck to his forehead as he sang his high notes with a passion that seemed otherworldly. I must have been delirious... but I swear I could almost smell the damp, sweaty scent of the Canadian. The light enveloped him almost supernaturally, enhancing his perfect smile that drew screams and sighs from everyone.
As I walked through the corridors towards the dressing room, the muffled hum of the crowd's cheers still echoed in my head. With each step, it felt like I was getting closer to the impossible, and the memories of Shawn Mendes on stage made my heart race just remembering.
Now, just a few meters away from his dressing room, I could feel the adrenaline rising. It was surreal to think that he was right behind that door after that performance that seemed so distant and unattainable.
I clutched the VIP pass in my hands, my fingers trembling, feeling a mix of anxiety and euphoria. It was my chance, perhaps the only one, to be close to him... to talk to him... to be noticed by him. Straightening my posture and taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my heart, but it insisted on beating wildly. Nothing could prepare me for what was to come.
Finally, the security guard checked the ticket in my hand, nodded, and opened the door.
Shawn was sitting on a small black leather couch, his head resting on the back and his eyes half-closed, as if trying to catch his breath after the adrenaline of the show. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his chest glistening under the yellow light of the lamp in the corner of the room. He had a towel over his shoulders and held an almost empty water bottle. His bare feet were stretched out along the couch, the soles... the most beautiful I’d ever seen, a mix of pinkish and slightly reddish, with a moist shine... sweaty from the heat of the night... made my heart race and forget to breathe, imagining their warmth near my face.
I quickly lifted my gaze, fearing I’d been caught staring too much at his feet. My heart raced even faster when he opened his eyes and noticed me. A friendly but tired smile curved his lips.
— Hey, there you are. — He gave a small nod, his voice hoarse but full of charisma. — So, you’re the lucky one who got the VIP pass. How are you feeling?
My mind went blank for a few seconds. I couldn’t believe I was there, actually talking to him. Shawn... Shawn FUCKING Mendes!
— Ah… it was amazing. I mean, the show was amazing. You were… you are amazing — I stammered, feeling my face heat up as he laughed softly.
— Thanks, man. I’m glad you liked it. — He adjusted himself on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, seeming genuinely interested. — So, what’s your name?
I told him my name, and we chatted for a few minutes. I asked how he managed to handle the pressure of having so many fans, and he, with that easy smile that made anyone feel comfortable, said he always tried to focus on what he loved: the music. In return, he asked me how I got the VIP pass and what my connection to his songs was. I told him how his music helped me get through tough days, and he nodded thoughtfully.
The conversation flowed, and he made me feel super special, but I knew time was short. He looked at his wristwatch and gave a soft sigh.
— Well, it’s getting late; I must prepare to leave soon. But… before that, do you want an autograph or one last question? — He raised an eyebrow, smiling, clearly accustomed to fans always having something to ask for.
I knew that was the moment. My stomach knotted, and my hands began to sweat. I knew if I didn’t ask, I’d never have another chance like this. I’d probably never be this close to him again.
— Well… there’s something I’d like to ask. It’s kind of strange, but… you seem tired, and I was wondering if… — I swallowed hard, feeling my face burn — …if I... could give you a foot massage?
The silence in the room was deafening for a second. I almost wanted to disappear. Shawn tilted his head, his eyes fixed on me, analyzing the seriousness of my expression. A low chuckle escaped his lips.
— Are you serious?! — He asked, curiosity evident in his voice. — No one’s ever asked me that before.
— It’s just… I thought it might help you relax after the show. But if it’s weird, it’s okay, I just… — I began to stammer, already regretting it.
He raised a hand, signaling me to stop. After a few seconds, he sighed and gave a slight smile.
— Man… it’s super weird — he said honestly, but there was a lightness in his voice, as if he wasn’t really bothered, just intrigued. — But, I don’t know… I won’t lie, I’m dead tired after this show. And, honestly… — He stretched his legs, staring at his own feet, before looking back at me. — It probably wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’ve been asked to do.
I swallowed hard and nodded affirmatively, unable to find words to justify my audacity. He raised his eyebrows, clearly amused by the situation, but not in a mean way. The smile he gave was almost challenging, as if curious to see how far I’d go.
I wasn’t sure if that was a yes or no, but before I could ask, Shawn sighed and pointed to the rug in front of him.
— Alright, go ahead, masseur. Just try… not to make this too weird, okay?
He let out a muffled laugh, crossing his arms behind his head as if about to take a nap. His bare feet moved slightly on the rug, as if preparing for what was to come. It was so casual, so natural… yet, at the same time, it felt like a challenge. I was caught between nervousness and euphoria, my hands sweating as I slowly knelt down.
The first touch was almost surreal. His sole was warm, with a slight sheen of sweat that made the skin soft and slightly damp. It was a unique sensation - a contrast between the coolness of his toes and the warmth of the arch of his foot, still seemingly charged with the energy of the stage. My heart was racing, and my hands tried to mimic the movements I’d seen in massage videos, but the tension in my shoulders made it clear how nervous I was."
— Relax, man, — Shawn murmured with a playful grin, his eyes half-closed. —I'm not judging you. Well, not too much.
As my hands glided over the curve of his feet, trying to mimic the movements of a professional massage, my breathing grew heavier. I tried to focus, but it was impossible to ignore the acrid scent wafting from his soles - a heady mix of exertion and something strangely woody. My nose seemed to act on its own, and before I knew it, I found myself leaning slightly, trying to inhale more of the essence emanating from the feet of this male icon.
That's when Shawn flexed his toes, releasing more of that intoxicatingly strong smell.
The movement was subtle, but I froze. My gaze slowly traveled upward, meeting his. He was reclined on the couch, arms behind his head, but now his eyes were fixed on me, half-lidded, a smile playing on his lips. There was something about the way he looked at me - a blend of curiosity and amusement, as if he’d just uncovered something intriguing.
— Dude... are you... seriously trying to sniff my feet?! — he asked, his voice laced with incredulity but tinged with teasing.
My face instantly burned, and I pulled my hands away, stammering incoherent apologies. Before I could scramble to my feet and flee, Shawn leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and extended one leg. His feet were now even closer to my face, and he flexed his toes again, this time deliberately.
— Relax, — he said, the smile widening as he watched my confused and nervous expression. — Go ahead. You can do it... if you want.
My heart nearly stopped. His words echoed in the dressing room, and the distance between me and his feet seemed to shrink even further. It was a clear invitation, but there was something in his tone that felt like a test, as though he wanted to see how far I would go.
I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as I slowly leaned forward. The warmth of his feet was palpable, and the smell grew even stronger. When my nose finally touched the arch of his sole, it was as if the world around me vanished. The soft, slightly damp texture of his skin pulsed against my face, and I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply.
Shawn chuckled softly, a brief laugh full of surprise and fascination.
— This is... different, — he commented, leaning back into the couch. His toes wiggled slightly, brushing against my nose, as if testing the effect it had on me.
I was utterly lost in the moment, my thoughts jumbled by a mix of nerves and ecstasy. Shawn seemed to be enjoying the situation, though not in a cruel way. He appeared genuinely curious, as if he wanted to understand what this meant for me.
— Well? — he asked, his voice casual but with a provocative edge. — Is this what you wanted?
My face burned as I gave a barely perceptible nod, my eyes still closed, as if surrendering completely to the moment. I continued sniffing his soles, letting the intense aroma flood my senses while my body buzzed with adrenaline. Each breath was like a jolt straight to my chest, blending shame and desire in such intense proportions it felt impossible to contain.
Shawn said nothing for a moment, but the silence was heavy with meaning. When I finally opened my eyes again, I saw his smile morph into something even more curious and slightly amused. He moved his right foot slowly, letting the soft, slightly damp arch of his sole glide against my face. The texture was a perfect contrast between the warmth and the rough touch of areas that had worked hard on stages, inside shoes, and on the floors of a busy dressing room.
— You really like this, huh? — he asked softly, his voice gentle but laced with teasing that made my heart race even faster.
All I could manage was a muffled murmur, a sound that escaped my throat as his sole pressed against my cheek, making me close my eyes again. The smell seemed to intensify with every movement. Shawn was relaxed, but his attention was entirely on me. He moved his foot more deliberately, letting the arch of his sole slide across my face, his soft skin brushing my lips and nose as he pressed lightly, flexing his toes as he did so.
Suddenly, Shawn leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on me. He flexed his toes more intentionally, bringing them closer to my nose.
— Open your mouth. — He said in a tone so calm and confident that I obeyed without even thinking.
As soon as my lips parted, he pressed his big toe against them - a firm, dominant touch, yet still relaxed, as if he were exploring just how far I was willing to go. The salty, slightly acidic taste of his skin invaded my mouth as he pushed his toe in a bit further. My entire body trembled, and a guttural sound escaped my throat, as though my desire had reached a new intensity I hadn’t known existed.
Shawn laughed, a soft, casual sound that echoed through the dressing room.
— This is wild, — he murmured, almost to himself, as he moved his foot again, the wet toe brushing against my now-flushed cheek. Reclining once more on the couch, he stretched his arms behind his head, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He seemed completely at ease while I was in complete surrender.
— You know, — he said, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling, though his feet continued to dance across my face, — I never thought someone could enjoy this so much. I mean... some fans have sent me weird messages, praising or asking for pictures of my feet. Some even said they wanted to lick them. — I glanced up at him for a moment as he said this, and then he continued. — I thought it was a joke... until I saw you there with my foot in your mouth, haha.
He moved his other foot, now resting it against my forehead, pinning me between his soles. I could feel the gentle weight pressing my head against the ground, as if he were holding me there, reminding me of the control he had over the situation. His sole slid slightly against my face due to the thin layer of sweat, and the warmth increased as Shawn kept flexing his toes, sometimes pressing them against my cheeks, other times brushing my nose and lips.
— So... — he began, a playful smile growing on his lips as he looked down at me, directly at my face. — This is better than an autograph, huh?
I couldn’t respond. I only nodded frantically, my face now entirely immersed in the touch and smell. Shawn continued to toy with me with his feet, moving casually but with a deliberate precision that seemed to test how far I was willing to go.
It was as if time had frozen - the moment stretched into eternity. Shawn enjoyed the scene with his unshakable calm, while I, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, couldn’t imagine myself anywhere else.
The intimate atmosphere of the dressing room was suddenly shattered by three loud knocks at the door. My heart leaped, and I pulled away from Shawn’s feet abruptly, as if I’d been caught in the act. My eyes met his for a brief moment, and I saw the same relaxed smile, but now with a curious glimmer. Before I could say anything, the deep voice of security came from outside.
— Shawn, it’s time!
Shawn sighed, reclining back on the couch as he casually pulled his feet away, as if what had just happened between us was the most normal thing in the world. He rubbed his face with his hands, clearly tired, but still maintaining that natural charm that made my heart race.
— Alright, I’ll be right out. Just give me a minute.
My heart was still pounding. With trembling hands, I stood up, trying not to make eye contact, my cheeks burning with both embarrassment and excitement. I straightened my shirt and murmured hesitantly:
— T-thank you so much, Shawn. This was a dream... think I’ll let you rest now.
I took a step toward the door, thinking the moment was over, that I’d already received more than I could have ever dreamed of. But then his voice stopped me, softer now, yet firm enough to freeze me in place.
— Hey, wait a second.
I turned slowly, my face betraying a mix of nervousness and surprise. He pointed downward with a slight smile on his face, almost mischievous, indicating his still-bare feet.
— Aren’t you going to say a proper goodbye?
My body froze. The heat that had overtaken my face seemed to spread through my entire body. My penis hardened instantly, creating an embarrassing bulge I tried to cover with my hands as I stammered, completely flustered.
— I... uh... sure...
Shawn raised his eyebrows as if encouraging me, moving his right foot slightly forward. I swallowed hard, feeling my throat dry, and walked toward him awkwardly, my desire and shame locked in a fierce battle inside me. Slowly, I knelt down, struggling to hide the obvious evidence of my arousal, and lowered my head toward the top of his foot.
My hands trembled as they delicately held that perfect foot. With half-closed eyes, I placed a soft kiss on the top of his sole. His skin was warm, slightly damp with the sweat that still lingered after his performance. I inhaled that strong, masculine, tangy scent, every second feeling like a surreal dream.
Shawn watched with a curious expression, perhaps amused, perhaps just intrigued by my devotion. He wiggled his toes slightly as I continued, my mouth reverently touching his skin. My breathing quickened, and I could hardly believe what was happening.
— Interesting... — he murmured, almost to himself, but loud enough for me to hear. He reached out to a nearby table and picked up a small card. — Here, take this.
I looked up, still kneeling, and took the card with trembling hands as if receiving a gift from a prince. It was another VIP pass, but this time, something was handwritten on the back. He gave me a calm smile, one filled with a disconcerting confidence.
— If you ever come to another one of my shows, we can do this again.
My heart raced, and that’s when it happened. Still kneeling, my body succumbed to the overwhelming flood of emotions and stimuli. A heat exploded in my abdomen, and before I could control it, I felt the warm, wet sensation spreading through the inside of my pants. My breathing grew heavy, and I blushed furiously, trying to hide what had just happened. I stammered, completely at a loss.
— I... uh... th-thank you, Shawn. This means so much to me... really, so much...
He simply gave a casual smile, as if he hadn’t noticed what had just occurred. I hurriedly stood, still clutching the VIP pass, and bowed in gratitude before making my way quickly toward the door. But just as I was about to leave, he called out once more...
— Hey, pssst...
I turned my head to look and saw a pair of balled-up socks flying toward me. They hit me square in the face, completely drenched, and I could instantly smell the delicious lingering odor of his musk. They fell into my hands, and I couldn’t believe it.
— A little parting gift for my number-one foot fan, — he said with a grin.
I let out an involuntary sigh of infatuation and waved at him as I walked out, only to immediately bump my face against the door. My face burned with embarrassment at my clumsy exit, and he shook his head, laughing at my awkwardness. I gave him a nervous smile and quickly left the room, wanting to disappear as fast as possible.
When I finally reached a more secluded corner, I looked down and saw the huge wet cum stain on my pants. A mix of shame and exhilaration washed over me. Leaning against the wall, the pass still firm in my hand, memories of everything that had just happened flooded back with overwhelming intensity. Looking at the sweaty socks in my hands, I brought them to my nose, pressing them firmly against my face and letting the musk saturate my skin and nostrils. That’s when it happened again. Just reliving the moment in my mind, while inhaling the sharp, tangy scent of his musk, sent another spasm through me, another involuntary climax that overwhelmed my body.
I stayed there for several minutes, trying to pull myself together, still unable to believe what had just happened. One thing was certain in that moment: Shawn Mendes had left a “footprint” on my life forever.
[The End]
