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I wanted to share my recent good fortune as a foot fancier with all of you, so that you’ll know that even the kinkiest of foot and sex fantasies CAN come true.
I’m a good-looking, professional gay white guy, under forty, and have always done well with men. However, my intense foot fascination has often been difficult to accommodate. Sometimes I’m with a guy I like, but he might have really unattractive feet (which don’t interest me at all), he might be very ticklish (also a turnoff for me), or just has major hangups about his feet being touched or kissed at all.
As I got older, I started to wonder: Is it possible to find a hot guy than can keep me sexually satisfied and let me live out my hottest foot fantasies at the same time?
Although it took me a while to find him, I’m very pleased to say that the answer is yes!
This is my story.
In my town, most guys know that for a quick, good, suck/fuck and go at any time of the day or night, nothing beats the local adult bookstore. It’s located (naturally) in the seedy end of town. It’s the stereotypical porno shop, with foil on all the windows and the door, so no one can see through it. Inside, it’s a pretty big place, with a large gay video/DVD section, and in the back, 12 numbered coin or bill-operated viewing booths, with doors that lock.
There seems to be a pretty steady flow of guys through the store; I’ve been there at noon and I’ve been there at 3:00 am, and there’s always a crowd.. As you browse the videos and get closer to the video booths, you can often hear the rustling and light thumping of guys who have gotten together and are groping, sucking, and penetrating, racing toward their own orgasms, behind the locked booth doors. Sometimes you’ll even catch a faint moan or whimper as one of the men ejaculates, and then the sound of them wiping up the spent semen with paper towels.
I’ll admit that three minutes of sex while standing up in a video booth isn’t my idea of the “ideal encounter”, but when I’m extremely horny, it does the trick.
Last month, I stopped at the bookstore on one Saturday evening around 6:00. I had been watching porn at home and I was out of my mind for some male-to-male action. I knew that the bookstore was the place to go. It never disappointed.
I started cruising the gay video aisles. All of a sudden, I was standing next to him.
I slowly looked to my left. There was a guy, in approximately his late ‘30s, around six feet tall, wearing jeans, construction boots and a wool-lined denim jacket. He had a sandy-blonde moustache and was wearing a faded baseball cap. I caught a momentary glimpse of his eyes; kind of grey-blue. He had a ruddy complexion, probably from working outside.
If this were anywhere else, you’d think for sure he was straight, on his way home to his wife and kids. However, this rugged, denim-clad guy was intently scrutinizing the gay porno titles. As I checked out his face, he turned toward me and smiled.
My heart stopped! Blue-collar studs like this, I was sure, were totally off-limits to me. I lowered my glance, and that’s when I first noticed the sheer size of his work boots.
They were pretty battered and stained–testaments to the manual labor he surely did–and around a size 13 or 14! My expert eye could tell, even through the heavy work boots, that he had long, pink feet. I felt my crotch stiffen immediately. For just a second, I fantasized about the smell inside his boots after a long day at work.
The guy kept looking at me. I looked back. God, he really did look like the protagonist in a bunch of my fantasies! Knowing that we had made eye contact, he began heading to the video booth area. There was nothing I could do; overwhelmed by lust and fascination, I followed him. My heart was racing.
He entered the booth and left the door open. I walked in behind him. He closed it behind me, and latched it. Finally, I was face-to-face with him. I could feel his masculinity and arousal radiating from his body, filling the tiny black booth. His face wasn’t beautiful, but rugged. He pulled off his cap, and a bit of short, sweaty blonde hair tumbled out.
“ I’m Wes”, he whispered. “Hey...I’m Alan”, I responded. My hand reached out and latched onto his crotch. His sizeable cock was already rock-hard in his faded jeans. Suddenly I could smell him...he emanated a heavy man-musk that was almost too much, but not quite. I could tell that he had just gotten off of work. His hot breath was in my face. He inserted a $5 bill in the video slot, and an all-male porno began to play immediately.
The next few moments were a blur of crazed, lusty positioning. He stuck his tongue down my throat, and simultaneously I undid the front of his jeans and mine as well. There was no talking needed. Once both our pants fell to the floor, his hands on my hips turned me around until I was leaning against the video monitor. He pressed against me from behind, almost like a frantic dog. Oh god, this guy needed this--and so did I!
There was no time for lube, no time for condoms. I pressed back on to him, and after a few seconds of fumbling, Wes’s straight, long cock found my pucker. To my amazement, he pushed it up and through my sphincter, and all I felt was a burst of supernatural pleasure as Wes filled me from behind. The next thing I knew, his hips were pressed against my ass.
“ Oh god yeah, that’s so fucking sweet”, he hissed in my ear. Due to the restricted space in the booth, our movement was limited. We stayed for half a minute with his erect penis buried deep in me, not moving. My hear was pounding; I was nearly out of my mind with pleasure.
Suddenly, I had an idea. This encounter was turning out to be simply too hot to waste in a dingy, cramped video booth. I wanted this hot man all to myself in my house. I couldn’t get my mind off those impressive, giant boots, either.
While I was still impaled on his beautiful cock, I whispered over my shoulder “Hey, could I invite you over to my place...we’d be a lot more comfortable than here?”
Thankfully, he agreed. He pulled out, and we got dressed quickly. Avoiding the looks of the other guys in the bookstore, we exited and Wes followed me home in his pickup truck.
During the whole drive, I kept muttering to myself “Oh my god!”. I had already had a taste of this man, and couldn’t drive home fast enough to taste the rest.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity (but was only about 7 minutes), we parked in my driveway. Once inside the house, I led Wes over to my leather recliner and asked him to sit, and prop the foot rest up. I brought him a beer, which he gladly accepted.
So, there he was–reclined in my chair, footrest up, giant boots still on, and looking at me lustily.
“ Wes, thanks for coming back here with me”, I said. “You’re a really hot guy, and I wanted to be able to enjoy you”.
He smiled and nodded, and took a swig of the beer. I dropped to my knees in front of the recliner. “I’m going to take your boots off, OK?”
He nodded. I grasped his right boot and began undoing the laces. Wes began telling me that he was a contractor, and was out at work sites almost every day.
Once I had loosened the boot, I began to pull it off. My erection throbbed and my heart pounded again in anticipation. Without much effort, I pulled the boot all the way off, and placed it on the floor beside the chair. Then, I was facing the sole of his right foot.
He had thick grey wool work socks on. I just stayed there, motionless, staring, my face only about ten inches from his foot. The long, hard workday had done a number on his socks; they were smashed and moist, and a smell of heavy man musk and warm leather hit my nose. I breathed in deeply, letting the scent fill my head. Wes stayed silent, observing me worshiping his massive feet.
“ Oh, god”, I whimpered. Wes growled “You like that, huh? You like my big, sweaty feet?”
I truly was close to passing out. “Uh huh”, I replied, still transfixed on that moist sock sole in front of me.
“ Well, take my other boot off”, he commanded. I did so, placing it on the floor next to its mate. Then, both giant grey-socked feet were in my face.
I leaned forward, and buried my face in his soles. The heady musk was truly intoxicating. Suddenly, I realized that I had been motionless for a good minute, only breathing deeply.
“ Oooh boy, you are a little foot faggot, aren’t you, boy?”, said Wes. Take my socks off boy, and lick my feet...now!”
The fact that he was calling me “boy” turned me on even more. I obediently peeled off his right sock, then his left. Now, I was facing his bare feet.
I let a small grunt escape my lips. His feet were just as I had suspected...long and somewhat narrow, a fiery pink underneath and a pale white on top. His toes were long but proportionate, and for a manual laborer, his toenails were surprisingly well-trimmed and clean. Due to his thick work socks, his feet were actually quite soft. With his socks off, now I was getting the real manly foot smell–the warm, meaty musk that we all know and love.
I lost control at that point. I fell forward again, this time devouring his warm, fleshy soles and feasting on his manly toes, slurping and moaning. The somewhat salty, warm taste was incredible. I was in another world.
I quickly stripped naked and returned to his bare feet. Wes seemed both surprised and thrilled that I was such a willing foot punk. I was so engrossed in his feet that I never saw him peel off his long-sleeved shirt, and only briefly noticed him wrestling off his jeans.
Finally, I had my fill of Wes’s feet–for the moment. We still had some unfinished business to take care of. Wes got out of the chair, naked, and took me down to the floor. With me on my back, Wes pressed his stiff cock up inside me again and, with my ankles in his hands, began slamming me. My body trembled and heaved at the delicious, merciless penetration. Like a man possessed, Wes fucked me vigorously, his balls slapping rapidly against my ass.
Just when I thought that I had reached the highest possible level of pleasure, Wes reached over and grabbed one of his sweaty work socks off the floor and dropped it right on my face. The gamey man-stench filled my nose and mouth. I looked up and saw him smiling devilishly down at me. “Smell it, fucker, smell it!”, he grunted as he plunged into me.
Finally, the mind-blowing encounter reached its height. With a grunt and a bellow, Wes slammed into me one last time, and let loose a white-hot volley of semen deep inside me. The second I felt it splatter against my prostate, my own cock began convulsing and exploding. After many seconds of groaning and writhing, we fell silent.
“ You”, Wes said, breathing hard and looking me in the eyes “are one hot, freaky fuck!”
“ Right back at ya”, I responded.
After that intense day of sex and foot-worship, Wes and I established a routine. He would stop by my house after work on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’d kneel and service his sweaty, tired feet, and we’d fuck like animals. We also spent every Saturday and Sunday together, inseparable.
So, as you can see, even your wildest sex and foot-worship fantasies CAN come true!
