by Footish
When I was in the 6th grade, my elementary school sponsored a week-long trip to a camp in the mountains for the 6th grade elementary school students.
This was done in part, to celebrate leaving elementary school and progressing onto junior high school. I lived in southern California with my family, and it was nearing the end of the school year. The weather was already becoming summer like, and I was looking forward to getting into the cooler mountain air. At this period of time, the only way to get cool was by using a swamp cooler, which wasn’t very effective during humid periods. Besides the parental permission slip and the money to cover the cost of the week long adventure, there was only one thing left to do; completion of the physical exam done by the school nurse.
For the physical, the students were divided up into two groups. The first group to be examined were the girls. Then all the boys were asked to form a single line under the covered patio and cement sidewalk leading to the nurse’s door. The door opened to the outside. The physical exam was relatively simple. It consisted of the nurse holding our wrists while she looked at her watch. Then she applied the stethoscope and listened to our hearts. She placed her hands on both sides of our necks and asked that we open our mouths and say “ah”. She asked if we felt ill at all, and lastly she looked at our bare feet and between our toes to determine if we had athletes foot fungus. “All done” she would say, and then she signed a form with our name on it clearing us for the school camping trip.
While waiting in line, we were told to remove our shoes and socks. Standing on the cool cement, one can imagine the wonderful steamy foot prints left by boys waiting their turn to be seen by the nurse. It was at that moment, that I realized that I was aroused by male feet. I was so embarrassed that I had to hold my shoes in front of me to hide by tiny boy erection.
During Junior and Senior high school, I had the occasion to enjoy other attractive boy’s dirty and sweaty socks when they left their gym lockers unlocked. Sometimes I even stuffed one of their socks into my pants and took it home to enjoy later. But I never really acted on my urges other than enjoying the damp and musty smell of their foot odors which permeated into their cotton socks. I remember being particularly appreciative if they had worn their socks so long that their foot prints were on the bottoms of the socks and the socks form fitted to the shape of their beautiful toes and heels.
When I was 19 years old, I joined the Navy. I remember being aroused by many of the hot young sailors who were assigned to the same ship that I was. I can still smell the odor of their sweat from smooth muscular studs , especially when we were in the tropical area of the Philippines and the air conditioning went out The A/C frequently stopped working in the crew quarters and many times could not be repaired until we pulled into Subic Bay.
There were numerous laundry bags systematically located in each division’s bunking areas. In order to assure the return of one’s socks, each sailor would either tie his socks to the belt loops of his pants with his name printed on the pants, or he would simply place his dirty socks in a white mesh bag which also had his name stenciled on the large label. The bag was then closed by a large stainless steel safety pin to keep the socks inside.
I enjoyed the socks of many young sailors who felt the need to control their sweat and foot odor by utilizing a great deal of talcum or foot powder. This made a wonderful white print of the soles of their feet on the bottoms of their black socks.
I was assigned to the Operation’s division. I was a radioman. Most Naval ships have two radio rooms for safety reasons. One is forward near the bridge. The other was aft, near the engine room, where it was very hot and steamy. You won’t believe my luck, when I tell you that the deck hands laundry bag was located in the hallway immediately across from the aft emergency radio room’s door. Now for those knowledgeable with Naval terminology, you will undoubtedly understand that I’m referring to bowsenmates. However these fledglings were not quite bowsenmates yet .
No one ever went to the emergency radio room, unless it was for a drill, or an equipment check, or to store something that was in the way. Of course, I admit to occasionally using that room for late night sexual tension relief, just like other radiomen needing privacy. Being out at sea for weeks caused most young sailors to seek a quick release. The showers in the head were enclosed on three sides, but there was no shower curtain. No one wanted a slimy plastic shower curtain to wrap around your naked body when the ship was rocking back and forth in moderate to heavy seas. It was not a place known for privacy.
On several occasions I raided the deck hand’s laundry bag and found numerous young studs sweaty smelly black socks, complete with their personal foot prints. I held the wonderful form fitting socks to my face and tasted their sweat while inhaling their signature odors and encasing my erection with their other sock until I erupted volumes of my wetness into it. Then I would return their socks back into the laundry bag and would return blissfully to my own domain. The deck hands were never the wiser.
During my assignment to that ship, I became acquainted with a young 19 year old radarman. Talk about hot. He had blond hair, blue eyes, medium build and beautiful size 10 feet. His toes were nicely rounded with the length being graduated in a wonderful stair-step fashion.
Because of my strong fear of being found out, I was severely closeted, especially while I was still enlisted. Yet, in retrospect, his “gaydar” must have detected me, because one night he from liberty drunk and passed out in the empty bunk right beside mine. My bunk was the bottom of three bunks, right on the end of the row, next to the red night light. I chose that specific bunk because I could easily remove the bulb and replace the red globe and be in stealth mode any time I chose.
I waited for about 30 minutes to ensure he was soundly asleep. He was still fully clothed in his dress uniform, including his shoes and socks. However you could smell the strong odor of alcohol every time he exhaled. He seemed ready for my advances. I was face to face with him, and I softly called his name. Then I gently shook him. My plan was that if he woke up, I would tell him that he was in the wrong bunk. But he didn’t wake up.
I turned around in my bunk, and was facing his feet. I very carefully lifted his feet and gently removed both of his shoes. He never budged. His breathing remained steady. Again I waited just in case he would begin to awaken. He didn’t. So, I slowly and carefully removed his socks. I got very close to his beautiful bare feet and carefully inhaled. My nose and lips brushed his soles and I grabbed his dirty socks and quickly dressed myself to seek privacy and much needed sexual relief. Since I had not prepared for this, I did not have the key to the padlock for the emergency radio room door. I did however know that the line locker on the upper deck did not require a key, and at this time of night, no one would see me open the hatch and close it behind me.
I cleared a space for me to lie down on, using a shelf covered with ropes and pulleys. I wasn’t going to be there long, so it was comfortable enough. I unbuttoned by pants and began pulling on my already hard penis. I removed a handkerchief from my jacket pocket in anticipation of my erupting load. I held one of his odorous socks to my nose and mouth. The other I tied around my balls, making them tight. His foot odor was on my hands, and face. I inhaled deeply and imagined his beautiful toes moving around in his socks when he walked. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I shot several loads into my handkerchief before I was completely spent.
When I returned, he had not moved a muscle. He was in the same position that I left him in. I placed his socks on the mattress which he was laying on, and went to sleep. This was extremely exciting to me as I had never done anything as risky as this before. In the morning when he awoke, he found himself in his dress uniform barefoot with his shoes and socks in the bunk with him. He grabbed his shoes and socks and returned to his own bunk which was across the room from where I was. He never said a word.
Months later, when we returned to the States, almost everyone had departed on liberty except the duty personnel. I was one who was on duty, although being a radioman on a ship which is docked to the pier, there wasn’t a great deal expected of me. He had taken his time getting ready to go on liberty. Apparently he would be by himself when he left the ship. He had just finished showering, and he and I were the only ones remaining in the Operations sleeping area.
There he stood in his white regulation boxer shorts, otherwise naked from top to bottom including his beautiful size 10’s. This young god opened his locker which was on the bulkhead, and he began covering himself with talcum powder. The powder covered the floor. Ordinarily I would have been pissed with him covering a cleanly mopped floor with powder. However with every step he took, left a beautiful and perfect foot print on the white power covered tile floor. The soles of his feet picked up the powder and left a remarkable image of his feet. He never looked my way, but he knew I was there. He finally finished dressing and locked his locker, then silently left on liberty. I remained and just looked at his beautiful foot prints wishing I had them on my face and body.
Again, in retrospect, I can’t help thinking that he was awake when I removed his shoes and socks many months before. Thank you my friend. If only I had been more aware. After my tour was up, and I returned to civilian life I found out that he was gay. He had been discharged after being found in the intimate company of another sailor on board ship.
To be continued…
