by Drew
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His long white toes wrapped around my nose. I breathed in through my nose taking in a flurry of fresh, size12, sneaker feet smells. And not just any smells, the smells of a 21-year-old skater boy.
Lying there under his feet I couldn't believe my luck. Less than half an hour ago he was walking past
Me while I took a short cut home through a park, but now, I was lying on my back, on the concrete floor of a skater park ramp, and he sat there, dangling his beautiful soft feet above me, and his wet, moist toes gripping my nose.
" Like that huh?" he said to me as I moaned, taking in his scent. "You clean between toes?" he asked.
All I could do was nod. His toe grip on my nose loosened, and my lips could feel his toes spread. I poked out my tongue, and he guided his toes over it, forcing my tongue into the gap between his big toe and next. The strong salty flavor overwhelmed he. I don't even know this guy's name and yet here I am, under his feet. Smelling them. Tasting them. Much to his delight.
It had all happened when we crossed each other's path in the park. He asked me if I had a ciggy, I told him no, I don't smoke. He asked if he could have some money to buy some, I told him not unless I got something in return.
"What you want then?" he asked.
I looked down at his feet. Sockless sneakers wrapped themselves around his feet. The sort of sneaker that is wide at the sole, making his feet look a hell of a lot bigger than they are. Those being size 12 feet alone were enough to get my attention, let along the extra padding and dimensions those huge sneakers added.
"Huh?" he said looking down at his sneakers, "What you looking at?"
"Your feet man." I said.
"Feet?"
"Yeah. I'm into feet."
He laughed. "You wanna smell these?" He asked. "I've been in ‘em all day. No socks, no airing, no nothing. Nothing but stink, sweat, and some dirt prob'ly."
I gulped loudly and he heard it.
" Fuck man, you do want ‘em?"
I looked up him. Without fail I simply asked, "Can I?"
He said "Sure…for $50!"
I didn't hesitate. I said yes. He smiled and started walking towards the skate ramps. I knew to follow him and I did. He made it to the ramp first and stopped, stood still, looking around and sat down.
" Lay there" he said, pointing to the ground. I lay down so my face was near his feet. He leant forward, pulled off his right sneaker without loosening any laces and wiggled his toes in the cool night air. "Want ‘em?" he asked looking down at me. I could do nothing but nod.
I looked up to see this huge soft white foot being lowered onto my face. So moist with sweat were they that I could see them glisten in the moonlight. I began to salivate. I wanted to taste them. I wanted to smell ‘em. I just wanted them.
As they lowered towards my nose, I knew exactly what I was in for. The soft padding under his toes touched the tip of my nose. Slowly his long toes wrapped themselves around it and I could do nothing but lie there and breathe his foot scent.
I looked up to see the big grin on his face. He was so pleased I was enjoying his feet. What did he care? He was getting paid.
I think, to a certain extent, he knew how fresh and wet his feet would be and was not only now enjoying the idea of forcing it into my face, but no doubt enjoyed the sensation my warm wet tongue had on his soles - particularly between his toes.
His toes were long. His nails long enough for there to be something to nibble on if I wanted it, but not too long or too sharp. His soles were soft, very soft. No real signs of wear and tear - not even a spot of dry skin. No doubt all of that skater foot sweat kept his feet moist in those shoes. And most they were.
Despite having his toes wrapped tightly around my nose, almost pushing the ends of his two smallest toes up my nostrils, his feet had a juicy lingering odor that hang about the air. I'm not sure if he was able to smell it from up there, but all I know was, I could certainly smell it from down here and I was enjoying every breath of it.
It got to the point where he was quite content that his feet no longer stunk thanks to my hungry tongue. Foot sweat was now replaced with my drool and it was time to move onto his left feet. His toes unclenched and his foot was raised high into the air above my face. In the moonlight I could see the size and shape of his feet in all their glory.
Those toes were definitely long, and thing, except for the thick, bulbous meaty big toes. I was yet to actually suck on one and my plan was to do that as soon as I could.
The moonlight shone through the gaps between his left foot as he lowered it towards my chin. He scrunched up his toes and it was then, as if he knew what I wanted, I could see his big meaty toe heading towards my lips. His big toe landed, touching my lips softly. My nostrils detected that scent of his, wafting out from under and between his toes. I had no hesitation in opening my mouth and letting that big toe slip in. He pushed it between my lips, and it slide over my teeth and glided over my tongue. There and then could I really taste the saltiness of this skater's foot sweat.
I sucked hungrily on his toe, and he moaned a little, enjoying it no doubt. He soon pulled his toe from my mouth though and pushed his big toe and the next back into me. He tried grabbing at my tongue with his toe finger like skater toes, and I knew what he wanted. I let my tongue out, and I held it erect for him.
He glided the sole of his left foot all over my face, making sure that every inch of sweaty skater sole was being tasted my tongue. When he was satisfied all that was done, he then wanted me cleaning between his toes.
All five toes glided over my tongue and I could count them as they slid across my face. I started lapping at the underside of his toes, hoping, wanting to get my tongue between them. Eventually I did. His toes slipped themselves either side of my tongue and before long I tasted this skater's sweat, as it had been, stuck there between his toes all day.
I cleaned out four deep ravines between five long toes and it was then he decided he had had enough. He told me to get up and thanked me, and surprisingly told me how good his feet felt. I thanked him. I actually thanked him several times to the point of embarrassment. He reminded me I owed him cash, so I paid. I so wanted to ask to meet him again, but before I had the chance to say anything, he slid his sneakers back on, stood, turned and walked away. Sweaty skater feet. Long, succulent moist toes.
I don't mind spending money for quality.
