Curiosity is an amazing thing. It can push you forward, further than you ever dreamed and it can also be a curse.

That night as I stood in the shadowy bedroom and peeped out at my daddy and Harrison...I knew it to be both a thrill and a horror.

Seeing Harrison and my dad on the couch and really feeling helpless about challenging the situation was making me very lightheaded. My small bare feet seemed to be soaked in sweat as I stood transfixed...watching.

I was beginning to learn more and more about adult time and had felt I knew a great deal after seeing glimpses of the bottom of mum and dad’s bed. But this was so amazing. The view not just partial, but full on.

Daddy continued to moan about feeling too tired and too sore to carry on. Harrison, always creepy and aggressive, just took no notice. This made my blood boil. And seeing dad’s legs held high and his socked feet aloft, well, it made me crazy. The view of my father this way was totally mesmerizing and perfectly delectable.

My eyes were riveted to dad’s two long dark OTC socks and the lovely sweaty toe imprints I could make out very plainly. His strong gently furry legs remained raised with very little help from Harrison. Dad lay back against the couch and just raised those legs in supplication. Harrison held on to the leg nearest him as he sat almost on top of my daddy. The way he moved my dad’s socked foot close to his face made me rage and roar internally.

Those were my feet to love, NOT HIS! I screeched silently inside my own head.

“You are making me hard!” Dad whispered...but I heard it. Truth be told, I had no idea really what he meant. I was still in that phase of life...all new, all fascinating.

Harrison’s long horse-like face nuzzled dad’s moist OTC socked foot. He rubbed his long horsy face all over dad’s raised foot, all over the carved sole and then...he chewed dad’s heel. I saw teeth and tongue...playful nibbles and wet lashes of his long snake-like tongue assaulted my dad’s heel. My breath grew rapid, my heart beat faster.

Dad giggled but kept his eyes closed and head resting on his hands behind his head. The booze had worked its magic and daddy sailed along to Harrison’s well crafted seduction. Harrison knew his methods well and could have taught classes in the art of controlling a man.

I knew not that it was seduction as is; it was not “sexual” for me as I have said before and I just saw it as adult, highly private horseplay. Harrison worked my dad over and I got the feeling he’d done it before.

As much as I hated Harrison, I was drawn to him and the fact he loved dad’s feet and seemed to have such power over him. Would I ever have that kind of power over my daddy, I hoped so!

Harrison hissed almost too loudly as he nuzzled my dad’s foot with gusto.

“Reggie, I want these socks. Let me have them.” He ordered.

I turned about six shades of red as I waited, heart thudding, for dad’s reply. I loved those socks!

Daddy did not open his eyes.

“You’re as bad as Tony. This sock fixation and my feet. Sure, you can have them but you better damn well not tell Tony...he’ll go nuts!”

Harrison moved his slimy hands all over my dad’s sleek socked foot, massaging and totally enjoying it. He was doing what I loved doing to my daddy.

I was drawn to watching all the sock worship, for that’s what it was, but my eyes moved down dad’s naked legs and landed on his rather exposed crotch. His legs were still up and apart, his pose very graphic. Wonderful to enjoy his feet sole-side out but also his other gifts as well!

Harrison had yet to examine dad’s foreskin issue; he was far too busy to move downward yet. But I being me and always aware of ALL of my dad, saw a new situation arise...literally.

I had seen my own stiff self many times, but not anyone else. I had not seen my father erect, ever! The bedroom spying I had done to date had not included a good look at the mid-section of my parent’s bed. I was torn between watching Harrison “love” dad’s socked foot or watching this strange elongation occurring to my dad’s penis...which I always assumed was very large as it was or rather had been until this moment.

My own erection seemed to me to my “thing”, my private secret ability. I had no idea at that point it was a shared occurrence in the male members of the human race. I was learning so much! Again, I was not personally sexually aroused...just intrigued by this change in dad’s manhood.

The growing tube of flesh, uncut with copious flesh and slightly puffy around the reddened tip by the foreskin infection, was rising and unbending along one of dad’s upraised legs. The way it was filling out, growing stiffer and reaching up virtually skyward had me enthralled. The way dad’s fuzzy scrotal pouch began to tighten and become firm...fascinating!

I ventured a very uneducated guess that my dad’s penis must have been the biggest in the world; well...at that point it seemed very plausible.

“Ouch, OOOOOO!” Dad cried out in a rather loud way.

I was drawn out of my penile reveries and back to the here and now. Daddy was in pain. Obviously something Harrison was doing was causing it. I blamed Harrison for all my ills back then!

I saw Harrison stop loving dad’s moist upraised socked foot and push my dad’s legs down so that each socked foot gently rested on the edge of the wooden coffee table just by the couch. Dad’s knees still bent and his manhood and ass crack on display for all to see...Harrison and myself being the “all”.  Dad looked amazing to me as I beheld the splendour that he was back then. The size 11, artfully wide feet poised perfectly on his toes on the edge of the table and the dark thin socks still perfectly clinging to his legs and feet...and the now engorged erectile body standing betwixt those legs saying, “look at me, I am here!”

His ass crack was like a little ravine all golden fur covered and hiding his pink puckered hole, I could just about see the little hole if I really strained my eyes. I wished I could have a closer look at it. I wondered if it was like mine, I had used a small hand mirror and saw mine a few times by that point. I was sure the doctor would look tomorrow; I’d ask the man of medicine for a chance to examine it myself. I had every intention of seeing ALL while with dad at the doctor.

Harrison sat and stared at my dad and his manhood that had now fully joined the scene.

“Oh, Reggie, that does look terribly painful. Sorry. I should have known better. Sorry.” He sounded almost contrite and I was amazed. A tone of care and concern, really felt and tenderly expressed came from the “evil” Harrison’s lips. I was gobsmacked. Could Harrison really be OK down deep?

The ensuing acts of kindness and dare I say, love, shocked me. I had up until that point considered Harrison a creep and a rival for dad’s attentions and I did not want to think kindly of him. It was a true shock to my evolving sense of right, wrong and whom I thought of as villains.

Tenderly Harrison stroked my daddy’s leg, up and down. Dad’s eyes stayed closed and he moaned softly....whimpered in pain. His reddish golden haired head lay against the couch back resting still on his folded arms. The almost pure nakedness of my dad was alluring and artistic to my eyes. The way his dress shirt laid partly open exposing his manly gently furry chest and then there were his lovely dark OTC socks. Other than for those items, he was nude.

I looked on, breathing heavy...watching. Always the voyeur lurking!

Harrison’s long fingers moved down dad’s leg and rubbed along the nearest socked foot. Rubbing his juicy heel and enjoying the flowing high arch of that beloved foot back and forth. I watched and my anger grew less, only just, but less. Dad sighed. Harrison watched dad, his manhood and his socked foot. His eyes roving inside those spectacles, back and forth all over daddy’s body.

The erect flesh stood rather solidly, the cock head attempting to burst out but being held back (from what I could see from the bedroom) by the inflamed foreskin folds. His soldier-like penis looked proud yet wounded. Tall yet not able to reach full mast, the pain causing sighs and gasps to be heard from time to time. Harrison soothing and cooing softly.

“It will go down, just relax. Relax.” He kept saying to daddy.

And like magic, the man-flesh began to move lower, lower, shrinking away to what I knew and recognized as normal and correct.

Harrison rested a tender hand on my father’s now relaxing ball pouch. I saw his bony fingers resting on the fuzzy furred skin surface, just delicately cupping his two floating orbs...gently and with almost reverent solemnity. He seemed to know my dad so intimately and expressed a sort of ownership over him. My mouth dropped open.

“Reggie, I dare say you have quite an infection. Even like this it looks tender and painful.” Harrison said coyly as he gazed down, almost mere inches from dad’s puffy foreskin...his spectacles resting on the bridge of his big nose as he looked closely.

“Harrison, tender does not even begin to cover it. Burning like bloody hell is more like it.” Dad responded through closed eyes.

Harrison bent forward and kissed one of dad’s exposed nipples.

“Sleep well.” He said in a very low voice.

Seeing Harrison kiss daddy was a shock but not unexpected after all I had seen.

“Are you forgetting something? Your request?” Daddy said playfully.

Harrison guffawed and snorted.

“Tony will be angry. But I’ll keep them hidden. Promise!”

And with that, he used those long fingers and plied off each long, sweaty OTC sock from my daddy’s feet. I cringed but held fast. I’d find them before we left NYC. I pledged to myself I would and take them back. MINE, I sang to myself, all MINE!

Dad’s naked and sleek bare feet still rested upon the coffee table, his toes wiggled in delightful freedom from their sock captivity.

Dad stood, his manhood swinging down and thwacking his balls. “OUCH!” he barked.

“Careful Reggie! That club of yours is lethal even when small. Baby yourself!” Harrison said in a catty way. So typical of him!

Dad’s nearly naked body moved toward the bedroom door. I scooted back into my bed. I looked asleep for all intents and purposes.

Dad moved about, putting his clothing away and using the bathroom. I heard the sound of the shower briefly. I breathed a sigh of relief that I had not been found out as a spy and I was secure in my place as dad’s chaperone to the doctor tomorrow. A job I took very seriously!

As we lay in our dark room, I heard Harrison moving around in the outer rooms. I wondered what he was up to. I also wondered if he too was madly sniffing my dad’s gifted socks. I knew I would be. And what did I have? Harrison’s discarded socks. They sat beside me. I felt that Harrison and I had so much in common. My hate lessened one fraction. I felt a sudden urge to bond with him...just a tiny bit.

I silently moved from my bed onto my small bare toes. Dad snored away in the now dark room. The light shone under the door to the front room, I gently opened it and moved out into the living room area.

I pulled the bedroom door shut behind me.

Harrison lay on the couch bed, it had been folded out. He was under a cover but I knew he was nude. His top half was thin and rather darkly furry. His eyes were showing plainly as he had put the spectacles away. He gaped at me. His mouth open in shock.

I moved slowly to his bed.

“What are you doing up?” he hissed at me. Not friendly and a bit scary.

I stammered.

“I came to say goodnight. And to say sorry.”

He glared at me. His eyes suspicious.

“You are a little sneak. You act like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth. You were spying on your daddy and me. You know what I have. Your little act won’t work. These are mine, all mine!” He said this as he waved dad’s socks up in the air; they’d been hidden under the cover.

My eyes filled with tears. I should not have bothered coming out. He was not ready to embrace me as a fellow foot person, not yet. I was still little Tony, the pest.

I turned and moved away.

He called out in a whisper.

“And if I have my way, you’ll be left with Greta, the nice secretary here in our NYC offices. I am going to the doctor with your father...me!”

I shut the bedroom door and crawled into bed with my daddy. He felt me snuggled up to him. I kissed his back which faced me, his pyjama top tickling my nose. I drifted into sleep. I was here, next to daddy...not Harrison. Small victory.

My small feet rested next to my dad’s much bigger ones under the covers. His large tender feet felt warm, safe and very secure. My feet fit so nicely inside his lovely high curved arches. He was mine. Now I had to prove it!

The next day dawned and dad awoke early and was very business-like as he readied for his day. A day that would be spent partly at his NY offices with Harrison and later with me at Doctor Carlyle’s. I saw Harrison stride thru our room and use the bathroom to shave and shower before dad did. I mused as I lay in the still dim room about Harrison and my daddy. The bond they shared and the bond I shared with them, each unique but all pivoting on my dad. He was our fulcrum and it both excited me and repulsed me. Sharing daddy with mum was hard but sharing him with Mr. Creepy was a huge spider web of entanglements.

Harrison vanished back into the other room and dad took his place in the bathroom. He left the door ajar as he hummed and lathered away in preparation for a long busy day.

My eyes watched him intently as far as I could catch glimpses. I was intrigued by all things daddy did and was. He represented strength, stamina and stability. I even loved watching him shave in the mirror; the special way he trimmed his moustache was very endearing. The way he combed back his wavy golden red hair and dabbed on a favourite aftershave...another smell I forever will associate with him!

I sat in bed wondering. Just what would Doctor Carlyle be like? I had never been with dad to a doctor. The very idea of a man going over my daddy thoroughly while I watched made me titter with joy, knowing I chose the socks for this special occasion made me bubbly and giddy.

“You are all full of beans this morning!” Daddy said as he passed by my bed wearing just his white boxers. I now know that they would have been easier to wear with the foreskin irritation issue he was facing. He moved to the other bed where he had laid out his other clothing. I soon realized I had been moved to my own bed in the night at some stage. Dad was very good at moving me while I slept and I never knew until the next day.

Dad stood upon his bare sculptured size 11’s, his graceful toes flexing gently in the carpet as he looked over the wardrobe. He pulled up a white t-shirt, crisp and v-necked. He pulled it on. It was tight and hugged his chest muscles perfectly. He looked just like an advert for Fruit of the Loom. Then he picked up the socks I had selected for the day, the wedding tuxedo style with sheer sides, solid heel and toe cap in black. The mid-calf style that needed sock garters and clips...no real elasticity of their own. Very old school but classic and so perfectly what I dreamed to have my daddy wear.

Dad held the black sheer socks and garters up and smiled.

“Only you would pick these for me to wear!” he said with a wonderful loving grin upon his handsome face, his moustache twitching.

From the slightly open door, a suited Harrison was peeping in. He wore a roguish expression and his roving eyes were framed by his spectacles perfectly as he spoke.

“I like them, I’d have picked them. Tony and I have sock sense; we know what you should wear. I mean you have the feet of Adonis, why not show off!” He said and gave me a look.

The look was neither one of approval or hate, it was just a look...an acknowledgement that maybe, deep down, just maybe we did have a common link. I just sat and sort of smiled back. I was unsure what to do.

Harrison moved in, pushing the door wide.

“Well, sit down and put them on. Come on!” he encouraged. His eyes watching daddy so eagerly as if he was an eagle watching a field mouse on the run for cover.

I moved to the edge of the bed and joined in.

“Go on, sit down and put them on!”

Dad laughed in his good natured way and sat down on the edge of the bed, raised his left foot and pulled on the first nearly sheer silky sock. The black shimmery material swallowed his large wide curvy foot and his tender toes filled the solid toe cap and his meaty heel rounded out the solid coloured lower end. He held the foot aloft and wiggled his sheer socked toes as Harrison and I drank in the sight. I think we both sighed. I think daddy smiled from ear to ear or wider if possible. I could just about see thru the toe caps and make out his gorgeous toes, each loved and precious as dear friends.

“You guys are very easy to please, and for my next act I shall put the other sock on!” he said in a showman style of voice.

I applauded and Harrison chuckled. The sound of Harrison laughing in a somewhat friendly way was odd to me ears, can he be human after all?

Daddy placed his socked foot upon the carpet as he pulled up the calf hugging garter and clipped the sock edge in place and let go. The sock stayed up, gently held tight...his foot now encased in the black silken fabric so that every contour of his foot was on display, as it should be!

The next foot was raised and socked and then dutifully gartered and clipped. Dad stood and strode about the room in his underwear, t-shirt and black semi-sheer socks. Harrison and I approved, really approved.

The rest of dad’s dressing carried on and soon he was suited and booted...his black leather lace-ups firmly upon his fine feet. Daddy was ready and his black suit coat and slacks looked sharp aided by a snazzy white shirt and deep red tie. And I was still in my pyjamas!

I quickly tossed myself together. We were going to a little corner cafe for breakfast and then dad’s office. I decided to re-wear my burgundy OTC socks with the woven gold-toe caps. They really had only been worn in the latter half of the day yesterday and only had a mild aromatic smell (I gave them a good sniffing as I dressed). Plus I loved the way they looked on me. I already was a budding “sock-a-holic” by then and I just loved wearing stylish socks. Those burgundy ones were my best. So I pulled them on proudly. My small feet filling them out, making me think I had some hope of being like my dad and filling his delightful “socks” to some minor degree.

The three of us strode down the busy street, traffic noise already a din even at this early hour. I can’t really recall what Harrison wore that day because I only had eyes for my daddy. He ruled my roost. I watched dad walk tall, carrying his body erectly and wearing that tailored suit with aplomb. But it was his black, highly polished shoes and getting subtle glimpses of those semi-sheer socks striding along the NYC pavements that kept my heart throbbing and my pulse racing. Playing hooky and being a total voyeur of my dad’s activities while away in New York was a dream come true. Could I survive until the doctor’s appointment? I hoped so.

I also found my mind fixated on reclaiming my dad’s “gifted” socks from Harrison’s greedy paws. No matter how many little tiny shreds of respect he might toss my way, I was still going to get those wonderful socks back. I loved them, always had. They were only just slightly worn, thin here and there but worth reclaiming and hiding away. I had two pairs to hide away now, Harrison’s brown thin ribbed ones tossed at me and those beloved black ones of my dad’s. I had already envisioned a method for keeping my treasured socks safe, I’d use plastic sandwich baggies. I knew it would work and would hide my prizes away in the back of my closet at home. And this was only the start; I planned to gather as many sock samples as I could.

I had been to the NY offices before and knew a few familiar faces. I had to go thru the usual “oh how you’ve grown” comments and got my cheek kissed by numerous overzealous secretaries.

I spent part of the long morning hovering around as dad and Harrison met with various men all suited and booted. My eyes were taking in all the “foot candy” and I soon grew rather excited and anxious about getting to Doctor Carlyle’s on time.

Lunch was a quick affair and was done via brown bags from a local deli. Harrison never seemed to leave dad’s side. I think we all ended up in the executive men’s room as a group. Dad hidden in cubical and moaning as he tried to pee with his foreskin issue. I could see those lovely shoes from under the side of the stall, those socks just barely visible...bliss. I wasn’t the only one watching, Harrison too eyed daddy’s feet.

Harrison knocked on dad’s little stall door.

“All well? Don’t worry. The doc will sort you out.” He soothed.

Dad groaned.

“He bloody well better. Let’s get over there. It’s almost time.”

I nearly leapt out of my shoes, it was finally time.

As we moved to leave and gather our bits and pieces from the office, I whispered to Harrison slyly.

“Are you coming too?” I asked in mock innocence.

He smiled back, that rather evil devil grin he often used.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sonny. Now how can I dump you in the waiting room with a good magazine without your dad making a fuss? Let’s just see how it all plays out.”

I sulked away towards the elevators with my dad leading the way. I was set as a bulldog and would not be dumped in the doctor’s waiting room, no way. I was going in...kicking and screaming if necessary BUT going in!

The first encounter with the amazing and life affirming Doctor Carlyle will be recalled in my memoirs next time!

Thank you all! TonyXX