His name was Ryan.
I’m not sure what it was about him I liked. He wasn’t a HOT boy—slightly chubby and even wore glasses. He did have piercing blue eyes behind those glasses though, as well as curly blond hair. He was cute but not handsome with his baby-face and there was that demeanor of innocence that inspired people around him to be protective of him. I other words, he was nineteen years old, but behaved like a sixteen-year-old. A rather jovial, polite sixteen year old, but a boy younger than his years all the same.
Then there was his feet.
They were only a size twelve in my guestimate, but they were beautiful. Ryan had come home from skateboarding from work and he just like got out of his Vans by bending his feet to the side and sliding out of them. He wasn’t a skateboarder per se, but he did skateboard to and from places at times. He always boarded back and forth from his job at the Baskin Robbins. I being his neighbor would drive in from my own job just as he would come skate-boarding into his driveway.
He’d wave and then would get out of his shoes—leaving them lying on their sides—and would then seat himself on his back porch and peel off his sweaty white socks. I don’t know if his mom forced him to do this… so that he wouldn’t carry his teen foot funk into the house, but it was clear that he was removing his shoes and socks so as not to carry offensive odors into his home. A home he still shared with his parents and younger sister. He did this every single workday.
And I was fascinated as I watched this process.
I’d see the sweaty imprints on his socks as he slowly removed them. Once I almost imagined that I could see steam waft off of them as he carefully set them aside and waggled his bare toes. All the while he would be chatting with me about current events and the personal events of his day at work. He was totally oblivious to me taking deep whiffs so that I could totally inhale the sweaty=fresh fragrance of his socks and feet. And the smell was intoxicating, as was the look of his bare feet—pale with a rosy tint and meaty … with soles so smooth-looking and ten perfect toes with ten perfect clear nails. Those toes were so beautiful that I had to resist the urge to dive at them and smother them with wet, worshipful kisses.
But I never made a move on Ryan or his feet. He wasn’t a minor, but he looked and acted like one. Plus he was my neighbor’s kid. Doing ANYTHING with him (let alone sucking/licking/kissing his toes) would have been weird and probably would have felt very wrong.
Probably.
