I temporarily resided in a house on a corner lot.  I liked sprinting the last 200 yards down the street to finish my run.  I was in full stride when I heard some townie teens laughing and yelling before one ran out from behind a car right in front of me.

I learned later that they were playing tag if you can believe it.  I mean, these guys’ ages ranged from sixteen to nineteen and they were playing fucking tag!   Sometime later I learned that they were high on mushrooms at the time.  This actually made more sense. 

Anyway, there was no time to stop or even dodge the kid.  And he was a handsome kid.  A well-toned lad of about nineteen with chestnut brown hair and bright blue eyes that sparkled like the summer skies.  What I’m trying to say is that he was really good-looking and a couple of years older than me, but none of this mattered at the time I ran into him.

We collided, crashed to the pavement, and slid for about a yard!

I got up with bleeding hands, knees, and elbows, but the handsome boy (I later learned his name was Kelsey) remained on the road, apparently too dazed to even stand.   His “friends” ran off and left him. 

I slung the semi-conscious young man over my shoulder and carried him to where I was living.  That’s where Mrs. Gardner, the lady whom I rented a room from, applied wet and cold towels to the back of his cut head. 

Eventually me and Mr. Gardener took him to the emergency room, where he received fourteen stitches in the back of his head.   The doc asked if he had been hit by a car!

But let me back up a minute.

Something happened in between the time Mrs. Gardener patched Kelsey up and us getting him to the hospital emergency room.

Mrs. Gardner and her husband put Kelsey to bed in their guest room.  They didn’t think his injury was as serious as it was at the time.  And neither did I.

That’s why I quietly tiptoed into that guest room when the Gardeners were dozing downstairs.  Mrs. Gardner had given the kid some kind of tea earlier. I’m not sure what was in it, but Kelsey was out cold now—sleeping comfortably on his back with his toes pointed up towards the ceiling.  And, after having watched Mrs. Gardner remove the young man’s size 11 shoes and socks earlier, I knew that they were nice, clean well-shaped toes.  I refer to Kelsey as “the kid” but he was at least two years older than me.  But I was a lot larger and taller and looked almost like a grown man.  The kid was nearly twenty, but looked about sixteen.

Anyway, Kelsey had most-likely been active all day, so his feet were warm, slightly damp and little ripe by the time I’d run into him earlier that evening.   The bed he lay on was a sofa pull-out, so it’s only about a foot off the ground.  This, of course, meant that I had to lay down to get my face directly aligned with the slumbering youth’s feet. And this work was worth it because his feet were amazing!  The soles were slightly wrinkly and there was a slight toughness to the heels. I just lay there looking and nasally taking in their slight odor for a while.   I was scared to lick his soles because I thought he might wake up.  I continued to smell his beautiful feet and placed my nose really close to the area beneath his toes.  You know, the smelliest part. 

Then I released my rock-hard tool and began whacking off. 

Finding a nice spot under his big and next toe, I inhale deeply and whack off as I did my best to smell every molecule of sweat and odor from that sleeping young man’s size 11 feet. It took about three minutes to blow my load.  When I boldly began to suck diligently on his near-perfect toes I managed to blow a second load---one so strong I nearly passed out right there where I was lying!  I’m talking right there on the carpet at the bottom edge of the pull-out bed!   

When we took Kelsey to the emergency room later, I hoped no one noticed that his toes were dripping with my warm wet saliva!