by Vas
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Josh had just finished his typical 5 hour long basketball practice at the gym.
He back soaking wet with sweat to his apartment where his unsuspecting friend Tim was waiting. Josh was twenty two and Tim was about five years younger. Josh had long known about Tim's "thing for feet" when he noticed a pair of his dirty yellow soccer socks missing from his hamper along with an arsenal of his stinky week old basketball and baseball socks. Josh was about 6 ft. 5 with short blond hair that was slightly tinged black in certain places. He had intense green eyes and looked like a greek god. Tim was a mere 5 ft tall and in comparison to Josh who was imensely muscular, Tim was extremely thin and scrawny looking.
Tim has been sitting down on the couch in the living room of the apartment when suddenly the door swung open. Instantly, Tim noticed a long figure towering over him in the doorway wearing a pair of loose fitting red nylon basketball shorts and a white body shirt. He stared down at the floor. His gaze was immediately captivated by Josh's size 17 feet encased in a pair of long, slightly dingy looking white tube socks that were now plastered down with sweat against his muscular calves. He also noticed that Josh was still wearing the same pair of Mueller ankle braces he had warn all season long without any washing. They were the black lace-up kind which left the heel and toe areas of the foot fully exposed.
Josh didn't have any injuries, but liked to wear the ankle braces every day because he liked the way they felt and he secretly relished how they would stink to high heaven after every game. Tim on the other hand hated even the mere thought of these ankle braces. He knew that the moment the door of the apartment swung open (sometimes at dinner), he would be involved in the nightly "foot smothering session" which involved him sitting in Joshs' bedroom on the floor with his back up against the wall and his unwashed ankle braces tied to his head- usually with the laces of the ankle brace itself but sometimes also held in place with a pair sweat soaked three week old tube socks.
There he would sit for almost an hour with his hands tied behind his back, while he was forced to smell Josh' feet and the reeking pair of ankle braces. "Smell my fuckin feet" said Josh as he arrogantly shoved his huge feet in TIm's face. "My ankle braces fuckin reek, man. I haven't washed them all week long. How does it fuckin smell?" All Tim could do now was stare into the dark barrel of black nylon fabric that was ensconcing his mouth and nostrils. Periodically Josh would jam his sweaty socked toes through the opening of the ankle brace that was tied to his head, forcing him to nearly gag.
Tim was only just beginning to get used to the smell, when Josh suddenly pulled off his other shoe while laughing sarcastically at his plight. "Oh no!," said Tim, "not the old ankle brace again." But it was too late. Josh had already reduced Tim to a helplessly limp and lifeless body as a three week old tube sock was shoved into his face. "Ahh..." much better, said Josh, as he turned on the TV to watch basketball. Suddenly, Tim felt like he was ready to explode like Mt. Vesuvius. The sweet stink of his feet was finally working his spell on him. As he drew in the final breath through the crusty lace up ankle brace of the athletic god in his dirty post-game tube socks, a bolt of lightening shot through his dick like a laser beam.
"Oooooooo" he dribbled as his body went numb and lifeless with pleasure. The session was over...
