by Martin
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Ever since I was a little boy feet have fascinated me.
I can no more explain my attraction to them then I can explain to you why I’m gay. Unfortunately for the first 19 years of my life this fantasy was lived out in my mind through my colorful imagination and the help of the Internet. That all changed one night with no reason to be particular at all; it was the usual routine wake up, school, homework, bed and bed always meant getting under the covers unlocking my iphone and going on grindr.
The location of my dorm in the city allowed for some interesting late night conversations, which were mostly just playful. Casual sex was fun and all but things were getting boring. That was until as I scrolled and there it was the headline reading beautifully ’SIZE 15.’ My mind blanked, what did that mean, shoe size? The picture accompanied was of a pair of old looking sneakers. I remember how I hesitated, I wasn’t a virgin and I’d had a couple of boyfriends but never ever had I told them about it, never did I mention that I loved feet, that I craved being dominated by them, that I wished to for the sweet satisfaction of sucking ever last toe, that I wished nothing more than to feel their weight on my cheek as the sole playfully rocked my head back and forth as I had seen over and over countless time on videos on the Internet.
The most I had ever gotten was asking my boyfriends if they wanted foot massages, but even then I didn’t do it too often for free of their reactions. ’SIZE 15.’ The little green light was lit, it was a mental push, green means go! I clicked on his profile and the sneakers became larger, I wondered what they smelled of. The about me made my skin tingle a little more. ’Looking for a foot slave’ That was all I ever had wanted to be... to feel a man’s power, to submit to a man who would make me tremble, to become a slave to man who deserved it because of his mere dominant disposition. I had to play it cool, I had to ensure every step was played out perfectly, If I messed this up there was no turning back and the golden opportunity presented would become moot. I messaged him...
’Hi’
I must have fallen asleep staring at my phone but my alarm woke me up the next day. I looked at my phone groggy eyed and remembered what I had done. There was nothing, my message was there in solitude. His status was no longer green, and I surely thought it was too good to be true. I got ready for class and departed. I had Bioethics in about an hour but I liked being early. The air was crisp and as I walked out of the dorms NYC engulfed me.
If there was one thing I enjoyed about my commute to school was that on the way there were these tall lean business men walking around in suits, and suits always means nice black shoes. I sat on the 6 train and surely enough a sexy executive looking gentlemen sat next to me. The first things I notice about a guy are his hands and feet in relevance to mine. Most people would say I lucked out when it came to my body, but they don’t know how lucky I consider myself. I’m 5’5 with a tiny frame. My shoe size is only 6 and I would not change it for the world, it only means guys feet are bigger than mine and that is something drives me wild. The sexy executive dwarfed his iphone in his goliath hands. I sat next to him and quickly mentally saw how much bigger he was than me; he must have been about 6’3 and would have been able to make me bow down to him with a mere look. It wasn’t till I looked down that I saw them. Perfect long square dress shoes. I quickly lined my petite converse next to his.
They were nothing compared to mine and I immediately got a hard on.
Best
A lover of Feet,
Marty
