A Good Investment
by Queer4Sheers

I think I actually willed the clock to reach 5 PM. It had been a particularly long and trying day at the officewalking all over our huge department, sitting in mind-numbing meetings, standing in line for the copiermy snug fitting Kenneth Cole lace-ups had begun to take their toll. It's not that the shoes are uncomfortable, but the stiff nature of the leather leaves very little wiggle room. The heat and moisture permeated my thin nylon socks. Navigating the rush hour traffic, I anticipated stepping through my condo door, untying the laces, and granting my tired feet their freedom. Once inside, I did exactly that. The masculine smell of foot sweat and leather sent an erotic message to my brain (and certain other parts).

I flexed my stocking feet, while I sorted through the day's assortment of junk mail and bills. As I padded across the living room, I was just about to put a curse upon the local Utility Company, when the phone rang. The male voice on the other end was cheerfully announcing his arrival down at the lobby entry system. Oh SHIT! I had totally spaced that I had reluctantly agreed to meet with a financial planner after work! I buzzed him in, and regretted the prospect of spending my evening listening to an old nerd discuss my investment options. However, when I opened the door, the evening's stock went through the roof! There stood a handsome guy of about 35, somewhat scholarly, and impeccably dressed. He extended his hand, and introduced himself as Ben Adamson.
I invited him in.

I stepped behind him to shut the door, which gave me an opportunity to check out his beautifully tailored gray suit, and of course, his shoes (Cordovan brown; I guessed Johnston & Murphy, based upon his professional demeanor). He paused, politely waiting for me to lead him to seating. I discreetly kicked my discarded shoes out of the pathway, although, the sweaty odor from them still lingered. It was slightly embarrassing, but it also planted a seed of sexual curiosity about what may be smoldering inside his oxfords. I ushered him over to the sofa, and as he sat, he hiked his trousers just enough to give that seed a dose of Miracle Grow. He was sporting a pair of the hottest looking brown OTC's. They were of a very fine weight and flat weave, that when pulled up tight (and they were), gave a hint of skin. A gray and black interwoven pattern trailed down each side of his legs, and disappeared into his shoes (I estimated 11 Mediums).

Ben was all business. He immediately began rustling through his briefcase, and pulling out portfolios and annual reports. It was obvious that he was painfully straight, plus he was wearing a wedding ring. My interest was piquing by the moment. I sat in a chair across the cocktail table, where he had begun to spread his literature. Then, the Sock Fairy granted me a wish

Ben happened to glance up, over his briefcase, and noticed that I was shoeless. He abruptly straightened up, and apologetically said, "oh, I'm sorry! I should have taken my shoes off at the door!" Before I could say, "I'll do it for you", he reached down and began to untie his shoes. "Oh, that'suh, OK" my halfhearted graciousness disintegrated, as he loosened the laces and tugged each shoe off. "I'm sorry, my feet probably smell, after all day in these shoes", he said with a hint of shame. I hadn't yet retrieved my voice, but I smiled and waved my hand in dismissal. Indeed, with the initial whoosh of air that escaped when the shoe first left his heel, the strong and sensual aroma intoxicated me. He dove right back into pulling out reports, and explaining the current market trends. He sat on the edge of the sofa, his knees spread apart and his feet planted firmly. My eyes were transfixed.

I remembered my hostess skills, and asked if he'd like something to drink. He looked up from his pile of charts, smiled, and said, "yes, thanks". I excused myself, thankful that he was so occupied, that he was oblivious to my raging hard-on. Once in the kitchen, my brain went into overdrive. I couldn't let this chance, pass by! There was a handsome straight man, in my living roomin his stocking feet! How was I going to take advantage of this rare occurrence? "Would you like a beer?" I yelled to him from the kitchen, with a nervous chuckle. To my surprise, he said, "Sure! That sounds great!"
"Well, he'll never drink enough to get drunk", I thought to myself. I needed to put him to sleep. It was the only way he'd submit to my advances. I grabbed the bottle of sleeping pills from the cabinet. I knew it would be risky, but hopefully, he'd think the beer got to him. The beer was already bitter, so he wouldn't notice the taste. I decided to go for it. I dropped about six pills in the bottle, and stirred it with a chopstick. I opened one for myself, and delivered the brew to my unsuspecting victim.

I thought he'd never take the first swig! The anticipation was killing me! I couldn't concentrate on all the annual figures he spoutednot with him flexing his toes so close to me! Finally, he took a break in his presentation, and took a good gulp of my potion. All that talking had made him thirsty, because he turned the bottle up for several more healthy swallows. He set the bottle down, and proceeded to discuss Mutual Funds. My breathing became labored, as I watched for any reaction. "The safest method to realize a steady return for your money is to diversify. Man, I must have downed that beer to quickly! I usually don't drink when I'm on an appointment, butI'm sorry, I'mfeeling a little dizzy. May I use yourrestroom?" He stood up sort of wobbly. "Sure. Are you alright?", I asked innocently. "Yeah, Ijust need to splash a little wat..water on my face", his voice trailed off, as he turned slowly, and staggered a few steps. I heard him give a deep groan, and his knees buckled. I jumped up, and caught him under his armpits as he slumped backward.

My heart was in full tilt, as I held Ben's limp, approximately 6'1, 170 pound hunky body in my arms. Luckily, he had only taken a few steps, when he passed out, so I was able to flop him back onto the sofa. I couldn't believe what I had done, but I figured I'd better make the best of it. He was out like a light! I knelt down to his foot, as it dangled over the side of the sofa. The thin brown fabric clung to every contour. I took the voluptuous male form in my hand, so I could feel every sexy inch of it. The sock was still slightly damp. His toes pressed upward and stretched the fabric, so that I could see their form perfectly. The fabric strained as it covered the ball of his foot and the heel, and dipped into the deep concave of his archbarely concealing the skin beneath. I lifted his foot higher, so that it was close to my nose. I inhaledgently at first, barely grazing the surface with my nostrils. The smell was like a drug; the intake of, which became deeper and more prolonged with each breath, until my entire face was buried his fleshy sole. I pulled his other foot, resting neglected on the arm of the sofa, over, so to overload my senses. My face was engulfed in the feet of the sleeping prince.

He looked content and peaceful, as I continued to ravage his vulnerable feet. What would be his reaction, if he knew what was happening to him? Would he recoil in disgust, or press his feet harder into my face? That question would go unanswered, as his arm fell limply over the edge of the sofa. I slowly licked the bottoms of his feet. I could taste the saltiness of his foot sweat. The sock fabric felt a little rough on my tongue, until it had become saturated with my saliva. I created glistening trails, from his heels, into his arches, and up to his toes. I closed my lips around those tempting appendages, slathering them with wetness, sliding up and down on them in such a way that would make his idle cockhead envious.

Meanwhile, the pressure in my hinter region was building to an explosive level. I scraped Ben's toes across the bulge in my trousers. That sent me to the edge! I released my stiff cock, which was oozing pre-cum, and let it bob above the unconscious man's feet. The clear fluid dripped onto his brown socks, and soaked through to his skin. I raised both of Ben's feet, and pressed into them, enveloping my throbbing cock in their fleshiness. The sensation caused me to thrust against themand then, ecstasy. It seemed as though I pumped an endless stream of warm cum, all over Ben's socked size 11's. It covered his toes, and drizzled over his insteps. Ben was oblivious to the pleasure he had just given me.

After what seemed like forever, I composed myself. Now what!? I'd ruined his beautiful socks! I was certain he'd kick my ass when he awoke. Then, I had a deviously brilliant idea. I ran into my bedroom, and frantically rummaged through my dresser. Time was running out. I found a pair of my own brown OTC's. Hurriedly, I returned and stripped Ben's cum-soaked socks down over his muscular calves, and off his feet. I paused a moment, to savor the sight of his nude feet. Hubba! I then, meticulously stretched the replacements over his toes, heels, and up his legs. Next, I raised his sleeping body back to the seated position he had been in, prior to his unexpected nap. He was beginning to come around, lifting his head and making little grunting sounds. I placed some papers in his lap, and jumped back over to my chair.

As he became more aware, I resumed the conversation about long term investments. He looked bewildered, and disoriented. I wryly asked if anything was wrong. "I don't know! Did I zone out there, for a second?" he questioned. "You did seem to glaze over, briefly. But I just thought you were as bored with the subject as I am", I quipped. He chuckled, and shook his head (clearing the cobwebs). He said, "Maybe we should call it an evening. I can finish my presentation at another time. I KNEW I shouldn't have had that beer!" "Don't sweat it!" I said amiably.

He packed the volumes of literature, back into his briefcase. Then, as I held my breath, he reached for his shoes. He was engaging in some small talk, then paused. He crossed his legs, and curiously stroked his hand over his foot. "Nice socks!" I said innocently. "Yeah, but I don't remember wearing these! I don't even remember OWNING any socks like these!" I had replaced his socks with SHEERS! - and they looked gorgeous on him! (LOL!) "Maybe your wife sneaked them in to your collection", I speculated. "Could bebut I could have sworn that I wore patterned socks today" The poor guy was confounded. He slipped his shoes on, but left them untied. When he stood up to leave, my heart almost jumped out of my chest! He had been sitting on his REAL socks! Luckily, he didn't look back, and I was able to swoop them out of sight. He apologized again for his unprofessional behavior, and promised not to doze off next time. I shut the door, and breathed a heavy sigh. I pulled his damp socks out of my pocket, and put them up to my nose. With a wistful sniff, I whispered, "Now that was a good investment!"

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