Chris' 13's: A Glimmer In My Eye (Actually Two Big Ones)
by Bestfoot

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Chris was a fellow student assistant in the University mailroom where I worked part-time. We became pretty good friends over time, really only hanging out at work. From early on, I could not help but notice Chris and his physique. He was 22, sandy blonde, green eyes, about 6’3”, probably 200lbs, well defined facial features, big strong hands, and big shoes.

One day Chris came to work, and we were busy sorting mail into the slots for delivery to the various pods of student mailboxes. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and boat shoes w/out socks. He chose to sort mail directly in front of me, meaning that we had a stand of shelves between us and we chatted back and forth. At some point I had to walk around the table and shelves to grab something, and I saw something that forever changed the way I would think of young Chris. 

His boat shoes had been cast aside, and there I gazed upon perhaps the hottest pair of feet that I had ever seen. He was standing with his right foot resting on top of the left. It wasn’t until later that I would learn he wore 13s, but they were obviously bigger than mine, that much I knew instantly. They were semi-veiny on top, light golden tan, no hair covering them, long thick toes w/a bit of sandy blonde hair on tops, the second ever so slightly longer than the huge big toes.But I couldn’t look at them forever, because there were people all around, and he was also aware of my presence. So I took it all in quickly, and continued with what I was doing, trying as best I could not to become absolutely fixated on my new favorite things.

It was on that afternoon when I decided I was going to find a way to get to him, and more importantly, his big wide sexy thick feet. 

Over the next few weeks we began to hang out and I had him and a couple friends over to my place to play cards, listen to music, have some drinks, watch movies. Of course I also had other opportunities to admire his big feet, because he preferred to walk around the mailroom barefoot, which was his way of taunting and teasing me without knowing it.

My roommates were from Orlando, and drove home most weekends, which was perfect for me to have company. Chris and his buddies never stayed the night, just hung out until late and drove back to their own places to crash. One day at work Chris mentioned that he and his buds were going to get together at one of their apartments and they wanted me to drop by and hang with them. Of course I was all over that.

It was a Friday and I headed over to the apartment of his friend. There were probably about 8 of us total, and we were playing cards and drinking and having a great time. All of us were consuming our fair share of the beer and liquor, and at some point I bowed out of the game and became a spectator, choosing to observe rather than play. After a while I decided I would retreat from the dining area where the card games were taking place and rest on the sofa in the living room. And not long after I sat down and made myself comfortable, I must have passed out.

The next thing I knew, as I came to, the apartment was very quiet, and I heard commotion in the kitchen. It was Chris’ friend, and it was his apartment I was in. He was cooking spaghetti, and I noticed that the clock on the kitchen wall read something close to midnight. I asked where Chris was, and he said that he had gone up to CJ’s apartment, directly above his place. I told him I was gonna split, say goodbye to Chris and be on my way home. CJ had gone out of town for the weekend and left his place open for his buds to hang out while he was away. My mind is immediately racing, trying to figure out what might happen, if I can find a way to finally do what I have been wanting to for weeks. As I closed the apartment door, I turned to the right to ascend the split staircase to the 3rd floor apartments. Reaching

the top step, my heart was beginning to beat faster. I was so anxious, yet so nervous, to find out what was on the other side of the apartment door. I calmed myself down a little, took a couple deep breaths, and knocked on the door. There was no answer, so I knocked again and waited for a few seconds. Still, there was no answer.

I decided to take a chance to see if the door was unlocked. It had a handle instead of a knob, and I pushed the handle down and to the left and pushed on the door simultaneously. The door cracked open and I could see into the living room. It was in fact unlocked, and I continued to push it open, spotting my prey on the couch on the far wall of the room. There he was, lying on the couch, sleeping away, with his legs swung over the arm of the couch near the balcony door. He was snoring lightly, and I called out to him as I stepped into the apartment. No response whatsoever, so I called his name again as I walked in and closed the door. Not a peep out of the boy, and I knew he was pretty gone, because I knew he had a few drinks downstairs at the card table. The TV was watching him instead of the other way around, and the volume was up rather high. I grabbed the remote and took it down a few levels, looking down at him as I did. He was so peacefully resting, arms crossed over his chest, in a polo shirt, blue jeans, white crew socks, and green/black/white Reebok’s. 

I couldn’t be exactly certain that he was all the way gone, so I elected to stretch out on the floor next to him, positioning myself facing the TV, my face down at the end of the couch where his feet were dangling over the arm. I watched him and listened for a few minutes, and began to tentatively take my fingers to his shoes and move his feet still in sneakers and socks around slowly and gently.

And then, as my eyes watched the TV while my right hand was on his left foot testing his nocturnal state, the door opens. It’s one of his buddies, who decided to drop by and see what was going on. I was sooooooo pissed off at this point, because he was potentially going to totally wreck any chance I had of finally getting his godly feet. 

He comes in and sits down on the couch on the other side of the living room and we begin to chat it up a little bit. This probably goes on for about five minutes, and then I tell him I am going to head into the bedroom and take a snooze. And with that, I get up off the floor and head in there to rest and let off some steam. I take about 15min and hope that when I emerge from the room the friend has decided to head home for the night. Fingers crossed and heart thumping, I open the bedroom door and take a look out in the living room.

DAAAAAAAMN! He’s still there, and still awake. So I head back out there and assume my previous position next to the couch Chris is sleeping on. He has not moved since I left the room earlier. The friend and I chat it up for another 5 minutes, and I can see he is exhausted. And sure enough, he decided to ask me if I’m going to head back into the bedroom. I tell him no, and he quickly tells me that he doesn’t want to be rude but he is really tired and is going to go crash. I encourage him to do that, and away he goes, without any further ado. 

I wait for about 10 minutes and go in to check on sleepy guy in the bed. He is totally out of it, snoring loudly and not likely to wake until long after I have done the deed and made my getaway. So I return to the living room, and I decide that I need to check once more to see if Chris is any closer to surfacing from his super deep sleep. I called his name twice and even poked him in the forearm once, but no response, other than the continued snore. 

It’s now or never…The moment of truth…I have to go for it because I may never have another chance… On my knees working my way down to the end of the couch, I picked up the remote and depressed the power button and there was near darkness instantly, except for a bit of night light sneaking between the vertical blinds of the balcony door, which I was now positioning myself beside. I laid down under his big shoes and just pondered what was about to happen, heart pounding, hands a little warm and sweaty. Time to go in for the kill… 

Confident that he was not going to wake up, I propped myself up on my left elbow and began to untie his laces with my right hand. I got both sneakers untied rather easily, even with one hand, and then I had to sit up to start loosening them to slip them off his huge manly feet. Here we go, on the count of three…..1………..2……….3……….Let the foot fun begin!!!!!!!!!!!!!….the start of a wonderful relationship. 

Sitting up, Chris’ Reebok’s at the level of my chest, I began the tedious task of loosening the laces of the sneakers and carefully slipping them off of his white crew socked feet. Listening attentively to all of the surrounding sounds, I made steady progress in working his shoelaces to the point that the sneakers were loosely fitting his huge feet. As he inhaled and exhaled to a constant rhythm, I began to work his left sneaker off, starting by moving the shoe slightly left and right while pulling down at the heel.

Without much resistance, the shoe slips off of his heel and I pull it towards my chest as I leaned back, over his sole and arch and his meaty toes. I put the opening of the shoe to my face, covering my mouth and nose and breathing deeply the fresh scent of the foot that had been trapped inside for several hours. It was a perfect blend of all the things I love in the aroma of a man’s foot including a light sweaty and musty scent, the cotton sock scent, the leather of the sneaker, and that natural manly foot odor. 

I sat the shoe down next to the corner of the sofa and immediately turned my attention to his right foot. Repeating the same process as I had just done to free his left foot, the right proved to be as simple. I loosened the laces to the point that it took very little effort to pull down and towards me to remove the sneaker. Knowing that the right shoe smelled the same as the left, I decided to forego the sniff test and instead sat the shoe down next to the left one at the corner of the sofa. I now turned back to face his feet, leaning in and lifting my t-shirt so that my hardening nipples made contact with his socked toes. No response whatsoever from my upper body pressing into the toes of his left foot. 

With a growing urge to touch his feet, I raised my hands and began to lightly touch the outsides of his socked feet. This was the first time that I had ever been able to touch his big feet, something I had dreamt of for weeks and knew someday would happen. It was almost too good to be true, I thought, and felt like there was no one luckier than me at that particular moment. Life is good, and it’s about to get a lot better! 

I could smell his feet just beneath my face, the aroma emanating from those two huge size 13s still wrapped inside a pair of very white cotton socks. I waved my face back and forth, left and right, dropped down directly over those dawgs, taking it all in, and there was a lot there to behold. I sniffed hard as my nose hovered dangerously close to the top of his right foot, with the left not more than 6 in to the right.

As the tip of my nose made contact, I began to fondle his right sole, pressing the tips of my fingers into his soft flesh. The width of his feet, wow, must have been nearly 6in, as I cupped his right foot in the palm of my hand. God, I was so hard at this point, and I hadn’t even removed his socks yet. Scooting my body farther out into the living room, my face slipped under his feet and my nose pointing towards the ceiling and perfectly centered between his peds. My eyes were blinded by his right foot while my lips were touching his left foot. Leaning back on my elbows, pressing my face against his feet, taking their scent in.

My pants were tightening in the crotch area, as my dick swelled with blood, warm and thick and throbbing. Turning onto my side, leaning on my left elbow, my lips began to graze the balls of his toes, as my right hand and fingers scratched the tops of his feet. As I began kissing the tips of his toes, my right hand, resting completely on top of his left foot, began sliding up past his ankle, traveling up his calf inside his jeans. I was searching for the top of his sock, needing to tear it down his leg and over his foot, making it naked in the warm still air of the room. As my fingers reached the top of his sock, my mouth opened and began to nibble on his right foot and toes. 

My middle and index finger grabbed his sock and began to pull it down along his hairy leg, the sock material gathering in bulk around his ankle. I sat up momentarily, just long enough to use both hands to stretch his sock out and slip it over his fat heel. Sticking both hands inside his sock, I pulled it apart and applied a fair amount of downward pressure, as his heel began to appear in the dark light. I continued pulling his sock towards me, stopping as it reached his toes, still draped in the soft white cotton. Remarkably, Chris continued to snore lightly and had yet to even breathe heavily indicating he may about to shift or become even remotely aware of what was happening. Again, all I could do was gaze, in awe of his huge foot, bare, wide, thick, soft yet strong, with his toes the last remaining socked part. I pushed my face between his feet, facing the left, and began to kiss it, my full soft pink lips touching his white tanned skin, puckering for that incredibly sexy foot.

All of this was making me even more aroused, as my lips began to part and run along the inside of his foot as if eating an ear of corn. My dick was so rigid, balls so tight, and I began to rub the outside of my jeans, massaging it through the denim. The tip of my tongue began to lick the inside of his foot, and my face ran all the way up to his toes, pushing the sock away from his toes, starting with the big toe, which I immediately took onto my mouth, lips open wide, not sucking on it, just inside my mouth, warming it and my tongue striking the bottom.

The sock fell to the floor as I retreated, shifting around to the point of facing his feet yet again. Without hesitation, both of my hands ran up inside the right leg of his jeans and found the top of that sock and began pulling it down and without a break in-between, sliding it right off his big foot. 

THERE, BEFORE ME, WERE THOSE TWO INSATIABLE FEET, BIG AND BARE, JUST AS I HAD SEEN THEM THAT DAY IN THE MAILROOM. AND NOW THEY WERE ALL MINE, AND I WAS NOT GOING TO WASTE THIS OPPORTUNITY I HAD BEEN GIVEN…

Believing that there were some limits to just how far I could take this escapade, I decided that I needed to focus mainly on massaging his feet, as that was the safest thing to do. I took several deep breaths sniffing all around his feet, under them, along the sides, across the tops, and kissing as I went along, my lips pushing out and parting, making contact. I licked his toes with my dry tongue, the roughness of it feeling every line, every ridge of the undersides of those five digits.

I rubbed my cheek back and forth across his toes, holding the back of his right heel and pressing my left cheek in, his toes fanning out across my closely groomed beard. I pulled his right foot out so that the sole was in my face and I just ran my head all over it, almost like I was showering with it, using his sole as a washcloth on my face, on my hair, my ears, just rubbing my head round and round. And still, he slept….

Reaching the point of being satisfied with the face-to-foot contact, I relaxed and laid down on my stomach, my right leg drawn in and my upper body propped up by my left elbow. I, of course, had earlier set myself up putting a large paper towel in my boxers to catch the cum shower that would surely be happening sometime that night. I adjusted it to make sure it completely covered my dick, with most of it to the right, giving me room to work with as I began to grind the carpeted floor. I pulled my shirt up, and my nipples, full and hard, popped out. Part of foot worshipping for me has almost always included playing with my nipples with one hand and working on the foot/feet with the other. The foot-play has been going on for so long that I am relatively close to blowing my load, but I hold it off until I can begin to really massage Chris’ feet. Time was running out, I would not be able to fend off the eventual ending, the creamfest in my pants, so I had to step it up and soon. 

With my right elbow resting on my right hip, my hand had perfect reach to connect with both of his feet, from toes to heels. I took his left foot into my hand, with my face directly below his right foot, looking up at it. His foot was far bigger than my hand, and I have fairly large hands, but they were nothing in comparison to his big feet. 

My hips are working into the carpet, while my left hand is rubbing my nipples, back and forth from the left to the right, pinching them, plucking them gently, while my right hand grips Chris’ left foot. My thumb is wrapped around and under his foot, nestled in his cavernous arch. I start to massage his left foot, working my hand all over it, rubbing the middle of my palm along the outside edge from his baby toe to his heel. Cupping his heel in the palm of my hand, my thumbnail scratches the outside and runs up just above and around his ankle. 

His foot is swaying as I rub it, dangling off the arm of the sofa. My hand travels what seems like an eternity from the heel to his toes, and I begin intensely working on them, pulling them apart and rubbing my fingers along the insides of his toes. My body is so warm, my dick is ultra-hard, my nipples are fully erect, and I am breathing heavier than normal, while I reach what is my favorite part of the male foot: TOES!!!!!!! 

Feeling myself getting ever so close to blowing my load, I tilt my head up so that my face is right at the tip of his right foot. I begin to nudge his toes with my nose as my right hand tears into the toes of his left foot. I start pushing my fingers in between his toes, with my thumb on the outside of his big toe, and the rest of my fingers falling between his toes with my pinky finger between his baby and next toe. I hold his foot tightly in my hand, my lower palm fitting over the ball of his foot, the top of his wide soft sole. 

I’m once again smelling the intense man scent wafting from his feet, as my nose digs between his toes. I feel myself nearly at the point of no return. And I can’t hold back, so I stick my thumb on the inside of his big toe, and pull down, bending his entire foot, and creating countless waves and ripples in his soles, that my fingers are riding across, up, down, and between that soft wrinkled skin. Pulling my fingers back towards his toes and extending them back across the sea of waves, my nose pushed up under the toes on his right foot, sniffing and exhaling blowing air between them. 

Feeling the floodgates opening, my body is moving all over the floor, I’m about to blow and blow hard! I’m quietly moaning, while continuing to sniff his toes, and bending and flexing his other foot in my hand. And all at once, my body draws back off the floor, and my dick is at its absolute full range, and I feel the warm juice speeding through my body, racing for the exit. My tongue extends from my mouth and I begin to lick his toes, which drives me wild, and my other hand pulls his left foot over to the right, sole2sole, and I start viciously licking his toes, lathering them up, as I have the most incredible ejaculation into that paper towel inside my jeans and boxers.

A good four or five thrusts later, I have had the highest high imaginable. My heart still racing, my body has calmed down, and my massage of Chris’ feet has slowed considerably, as I collapse onto the floor feeling exhilarated and emotionally spent at the same time. 

Then I dropped my right hand from his feet and rolled onto my back. Lying there looking up at his hunky 13s. This is a night I will never forget, and hope to have many more just like it. But for now, it is time to go. But not before slipping his socks back onto his feet. I return the socks to their rightful place, gracing his large feet, keeping them warm, as he continues sleeping, completely unaware of what happened over that last half-hour. I get up on my knees, kiss the tops of his socked feet, rise to my feet, and walk away. Heading to the bathroom to take that traditional post-cum piss, I discard the paper towel in the toilet, allowing it to fully submerge prior to flushing. There goes the evidence, swirling away.

And as I walked through the hall, I peeked into the bedroom where Chris’ friend is still sleeping soundly. I continue through the living room, looking at Chris as I open the door. I stepped out, turned around for one last look, a huge smile permanently on my face, and closed the door, ready to begin the 10min drive back to my place. 

And Chris would become my roommate in senior year, by design. As our friendship grew, we began to talk about getting a place, and that was surely what I wanted, for selfish reasons. I would guess that during that year we were roomies (and one other guy), I had his feet at least a dozen times, including one time that ended in him totally busting me.

To this day, his feet are probably the sexiest I have ever seen and had.