This is a true story from my early adulthood.

I was a sophomore in college, and went to a small private school in NC. I was a good-looking

guy, toned with a six pack, nice legs from running cross country in both high school and college,

and a cute face. I kept my hair shaved most of the time, and almost looked like one of the

German skinheads that tended to be in the porn I liked. I was still fairly new to being an out gay

man, and had only dated one person at this time. I had also had an intense foot fetish since I

was a teenager, and always sniffed my shoes and socks when I jerked off, and would sneak to

sniff those of my friends.

I met Chase at the club in the town where I was going to school. He was tall, thin, with short

wavy brown hair. He wasn’t muscular, but grew up on a farm, and definitely had some

structure to his frame. He wore jeans, an Abercrombie T-shirt, (this was 2002, so they were still

cool,) a baseball cap, and a cocky expression. When I met him, I noticed that he was kind of

bossing his friends around, and clearly intoxicated. In addition to the rest of his outfit, one of

the first things I noticed while flirting on the dance floor, were his size 12 Nike Shox, R4s, that

he had clearly had for a while. Anyway, we flirted and eventually I left with the friends I was

with without exchanging numbers.

The next day, I was sitting in my dorm room on a gay site, looking for men. Low and behold, I

happened upon his profile, and said hello. Before I knew it, we had met for dinner, hooked up,

and quickly moved into a relationship. Over the course of the next months, we were together

most of the time. I met all of his friends, and we were at the club pretty much every Friday and

Saturday night. Our relationship was tumultuous to say the least. We fought a lot, especially

when we were drinking. We would get into it, scream at each other for a while, and end up

fucking to get through it. I am naturally a pretty passive person, and we were beginning to

develop our roles as the dom and sub in the relationship.

During this time, I also had a lot of change happening in my life. Whilst on the holiday break, I

ended up having to come out to my conservative parents. I was actually drug out of the closet

by my authoritative father, but this ended with me leaving their home late one night and

driving back to NC with nowhere to go. I ended up heading to Chuck’s dorm room, at his school

that sat about an hour from mine, and stayed there for the next week until my dorms opened

back up. During this time, our relationship continued down the same course. He was verbally

abusive and now had some power over me, because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I was

not able to speak up, and just learned to take his taunting.

The next semester was fine and wrapped up with me leaving the school I attended. It was a

private school, and my parents had cut me off, so I had to find something cheaper that I could

afford on my own. I worked on campus for the summer to get housing, and then come fall, I

needed a place to stay. Chuck had sense dropped out of school and got a full-time job in a

factory. I never knew exactly what he did, but what I did know was that he wore a uniform

every day, along with a pair beat up Chippewa Logger boots that he had had since he was a

teenager. The first time I saw these, I was instantly mesmerized. They were obviously worn

hard, and I would often think about them over my face when he’d fuck me from behind. They

just had to smell amazing. I had snuck and smelled his Nikes and socks along the way and knew

that his feet always stunk.

After minimal conversation, I ended up moving in with Chuck and his family. He moved back in

with them to save money while he worked, and I just moved right into his bedroom. It was a

little awkward at first, but we all got to know each other, I actually got along with his folks

better than he did. This worked well for a few months, and while I started at tech school.

One thing I noticed while living there, was the Chuck always came home, and took those boots

off first thing. I got home after he did, and would always find those boots in the small

bedroom, with the white Hanes crew socks stuffed in them. (Not sure why he didn’t put them

in the hamper right next to where he left his boots, but I enjoyed that little gift.) Every day I

would go into the room, change out of my clothes from the day, and shove one of those rank

socks in my face. I had to sneak and do it, because I knew that he would make fun of me. In

fact, there was an older guy that he and his friends made fun of, who was into feet and boots.

They really tormented him online, and I knew that I couldn’t let that happen to me.

As the weeks went on, our relationship became a bit stale, and every night, we would lay in his

bed taking swigs from a bottle of Wild Turkey. I hated the stuff, but didn’t want to be the sober

one in the room, when he was drunk. He got a little meaner when he drank, and I needed

something to numb me. Of course, his mom hated that we drank, so we tried to hide it which

rarely worked.

One evening, we were following this same ritual, and I can’t remember exactly why, but I began

to feel emboldened to share some more sexual information with him. I had shared that there

was something I needed to tell him, but then couldn’t get it out. He became very angry,

assuming that I had cheated on him, so I finally blurted it out, to get him to stop yelling.

“You know the dude that y’all make fun of, that’s into boots?” I asked.

“Yeah, and??”

“Well, I never said anything because y’all are so mean to him, but I’m into that too.”

The room fell silent for a bit, and he grimaced. I finally started talking again, begging him not to

tell anyone, and saying that it wasn’t big deal and that we could just forget about it.

He was clearly disgusted, but eventually seemed to see how he could use this to his advantage.

Finally, a grin appeared on his face, and he simply said, “put my boots on.”

I protested a bit, embarrassed about what I had said, and unsure what would come next.

He then got forceful and ordered me to put his boots on him.

So, I sat up in bed, reached over and grabbed them. I reached inside to grab the socks out, and

he said, “well, you knew right where those were, didn’t you?” I started to speak, and he said,

“shut up and put them on me.”

As I pulled the damp sweaty socks onto his feet, I was already getting aroused. I could smell

them. They were strong, with a sweat and vinegary scent, and the boots had the same, mixed

with well used leather. When I picked up the first heavy boot, I felt obliged to bring it to my

face and sniff it. He laughed, and said, “you’ll get plenty of that, just put it on.”

I pulled the giant boot onto his foot. It looked so fucking hot, with the dirty white socks sticking

out of the top. I laced them up as tight as I could, and he said, “well, you might be good for

something after all.” I also noticed that he had pulled his boxers down, and his dick was as hard

as mine. I finished with the other boot in similar fashion, and he simply said, “now get down

there and lick them.”

I quickly did so, embarrassed at the predicament that I was in, but also hornier than I had ever

been. If you haven’t had the chance to sniff the boots for a redneck from North Carolina, you

really have no idea just how amazing they are. He had spent years in those boots, sweating,

with no consideration of ever cleaning them. They were their own habitat, and I loved every bit

of it. I could smell his rank feet through the leather as I licked the outside. I cleaned the toe,

and around to each side, all the way up to the top, where the scent was escaping.

Eventually, he told me to untie them. I automatically grabbed one of the ratty laces with my

teeth, and he said, “good boy.” I loosened the knot, and pulled the laces off of each of the five

hooks, on both sides of the boot. The next part was what quickly became my favorite part of

my evenings. I pulled the tongue of the boot out with my teeth, and then worked my face into

the opening, with it pressed between the wet musky boot and his sock covered ankle. I stayed

there for a minute, just breathing in the smell. I reached for my cock, and he smacked my hand

away. “Not yet pig, you can take care of that when I’m done.

With my face in that position, he lifted his foot out of the boot, making room for me to go

deeper into it. He then put his socked foot on the back of my head and pushed it in there. He

then gave me a gentle but affirming, “I could get used to this.”

Eventually, he lifted his foot, and instructed me to do the other one. I followed the same steps,

since it had pleased him the first time. This time though, he kept sticking the now free socked

foot into my face and mouth as I was trying to free the other one. I took every opportunity to

breath in the odor and taste that dirty wet sock.

With both boots off, they lay at the end of the bed. He then instructed me to take off his socks.

I did this, started with my teeth, and then assisting with my fingers. With one off, I took the

chance to get his toes in my mouth. They tasted just as strong as the socks, and I was in fucking

heaven. I licked between each one, while I held the nasty sock over my nose. He was moaning,

and laughed occasionally. I was committed now, so didn’t let it affect me. The fear that this

might be the only time lingered in my mind. What if he kicked me out, and I was on my own?

What if he told all of our friends, or even his family? I would be ruined, but that fear wasn‘t as

strong as my need to keep going.

I worshipped those nasty socks and feet, as the boots lay by my head. After smelling every

scent they had to offer, he finally said, “now flip over.” I did as I was told and rolled over on my

belly. As though he had done it before, he grabbed one sock, and stuck it toe first in my mouth.

He forced it in, so it wasn’t coming out without some effort. He then took the toe of the other

one, and placed it directly over my nose, wading the rest up in front of that, so it was a thick

wad of cotton. Next, as you might guess, he picked up a boot, pulled back the tongue, and

shoved my face into it. I had never felt anything like this before. I could taste the indescribably

rank sweat from his day old feet through the socks. I could smell both the socks and the deep

inside of his old boot. He kept my head deep down inside the boot, and I quickly stuck my hand

inside the other one, feeling the damp slimy material. I used it to help secure the other one

over my face.

I heard him spit, and before I knew it, was he stuck his entire cock in my ass. He didn’t waste

anytime getting it in, but I had taken it plenty of times before, so wasn’t an issue. He fucked me

hard and fast. With every thrust, he pulled the boot harder over my face, and after just a few

short minutes, I heard him begin to moan, and knew he was close. I was also getting pretty

close, just from my hard cock rubbing against the sheets.

With a couple more violent thrusts, he gasped and bred my eager little ass. He gave a couple

more awkward movements, and I knew he was done. Then, he grabbed both sides of the top of

the boot over my face, and pulled it hard. He said, “I know you’ve never had anything this good

before. Keep sniffing, and stroke your cock.”

I pulled the right hand out of the second boot, and grabbed my throbbing cock underneath me.

He pulled my head back just long enough to grab the lose sock out. He put it in my hand and

said, “use this.”

Like I had done so many times without him knowing, I pulled the sock onto my dick, and began

to rub jerk myself off. Every sense was engaged, as I tasted and smelled his ripe feet and boots.

I had opened my eyes, and enjoyed seeing the worn darkened brown inner boot in my face. I

felt his cock that was still in my ass as well as the wet sock on my cock. In a moment of

absolute fucking bliss, I finally blew my wad into his dirty socks. After convulsing for what

seemed like minutes, he loosened his grip. I somewhat reluctantly withdrew my head from the

boot, and he pulled the sock out of my mouth. He then grabbed the cum filled on, and rubbed

it in my face, taunting me.

We each swigged the Wild Turkey again and took a moment to gather ourselves. He motioned

at the foot of the bed, and I quickly cleared off the boots and socks. As we lay back, he grabbed

the remote control, and we sat as he flipped channels.

After a moment, in a very matter of fact way, said, “you probably want to drink my piss too, don’t you?”