This was his last summer before college and he wanted to step into his first year in higher education as a clean and sober young man.  His parents were going to be gone for a full month and one week that July, so Bry asked if I would spend that month alone at his house with him. So that he would always have someone to do things with . . . and to divert his attention away from drugs. I agreed, and on the fifth of July I moved into his place.

I had never stayed over at his place before because his parents . . . most notably his dad . . . didn’t really like me.   I was the Ferris Bueller to their Cameron Whatever-His-last-Name-Was. No matter how nice I was to him and Bry’s stepmother, my friend’s dad behaved as if I was waiting for my chance to rob them blind or kill them all. I won't go into why he felt this way, but by this point in my life I was used to that kind of treatment.   Never mind the fact that I was a straight-A student. Never mind the fact that the only reason his son passed two of his classes was because I did his homework for him. All he saw was a guy who liked to have a little too much fun and didn’t take his schooling seriously enough despite the good grades.  They didn’t even know that their son was battling an addiction to what we called “uppers” back then.

Bryson Goodard was a GOOD boy, you see. He was so good that his parents didn't think twice about leaving him on his own for over a month during the Summer. It seemed pathetic to me that at his age, he needed his parents permission to do anything.

Anyway, it must be said that Bryson was a handsome fellow. And, unlike him, I was comfortable with my unusual urges and desires and an extreme male foot fetish. Major carnal exultations for me included the physique-shiatsu of the insentient or the tickling a person in any state of awareness. And I wasn't above using friends to help satisfy this refractory hunger within me.  Bryson’s feet were size 14 and perfect looking.  I oh so longed to suck his toes.   He longed to suck mine as well.  I didn’t know this at the time though.

Bryson had a foot fetish as well (in the back of my mind I knew it, but didn’t REALLY, you know?), and one day we grew so bored with video games and movies … anything to avoid the subject of drugs … we gave into something that I thought I had been suffering with alone.

Sexual desire.

How shocked I was when, one bright and sunny Tuesday, Bryson called me into his bedroom for what I thought was some sort of urgent discussion. The second I entered said bedroom, my buddy forced me to sit in the chair next to his desk. Then my bud knelt before me and ordered me to bring my van-clad foot close to his face. A very confused me did as I was commanded---extended my leg so that my foot was within an inch of his face as he knelt before me.  He then seized my foot with his hands, yanked off my vans (I wasn’t wearing socks) and fervently kissed my bare feet, bathing them in slobbery kisses.

And just kissing my feet caused him to shoot his wad!  You see, he was like a virgin to the whole fetish experience, so I wasn’t too surprised.  He had been “pent up” a long time.  All it took was him giving into his desire a little bit to get him off the first few times. 

We reversed places … me kneeling before him while he sat in the chair at his desk.  He was still recovering from having shot his load.

I removed both of Bryson’s shoes and socks and began to run my tongue over the boy's size 14, perfect-looking bare feet. After a thorough licking, I grasp Bryson's ankles and manually rubs the bottoms of my friend’s feet all over my face, purposely mashing my own nose while smelling and kissing them. Bryson's bare feet were aromatic and perspired. None of that prevented me from continuing to press my lips to the top of them, kissing them like crazy before licking them. Bryson later admitted that he kind of enjoyed my visual debasement as my tongue bathed his feet.

Soon Bryson had fully freed his dick from his pants and briefs and was getting into dominating me even more. He even went so far as to aggressively force his big toes between my lips and wriggled them into my mouth. I sucked his toes hungrily and lovingly, caressing their undersides with my tongue.

The combination of me on my knees before him and the stimulation of my tongue between his toes had precum dripping from Bryson's tool almost from the moment this exercise in perversion began. It didn’t matter that he’d already shot a huge load.  He had another by the time I stopped ministering to his feet and fell back in exhaustion … so that I could free my own tool and jerk out ropes of so much milky cum the bedroom looked like it was experiencing a brief snowfall…

To be continued