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The Freshman Foot Fetishist
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
THE FRESHMAN FOOT FETISHIST
One day in the office it was as busy as usual. Profs, instructors
and students were coming and going. I was word processing on the computer
with my back to the door and each time someone came in I glanced to see if
it was someone I could help. Several minutes before, a male freshman had
come in to see the department chairman and was in the row of waiting
chairs against the wall behind me. At the same time a couple
conversations were taking place around the room between faculty members.
As I turned once to see the door I noticed the freshman sitting
there had a glazed look in his eyes as if he were hypnotized. The look
was funny because he unconsciously looked frightened with his eyes bulging
out and mouth partly open. At first I thought maybe something was
wrong...like maybe he was epileptic. Then, I noticed he was staring at my
feet.
I have a habit is kicking my shoes off or flipping them partway
off. I guess it is the "hillbilly" in me. Often, especially when I am
seated at my desk rather than at the computer, I remove my shoes entirely
because they are under the desk. At the moment this young man was staring
at my feet I had flipped both shoes to the floor and my feet were crossed
at the ankles and resting together on the base of the chair. Both feet
were "staring him in the face", so to speak.
Years ago, when I would "catch" someone staring at my feet like
that I felt violated. Like the guy was a creep or something. It was
scary. It wasn't until my marriage to a "mild foot fetishist" that I
learned to understand the foot thing. Then, I even learned to enjoy it.
I have no attachment to feet myself - or to male feet. But I have learned
to appreciate those men who do and have come to find the behavior normal.
I have also learned to appreciate having my feet massaged, licked, sucked,
etc. So this young man's staring did not bother me at all. In fact, I
felt quite relieved to assume that nothing was wrong with him.
I kept my shoes off for him and maybe even teased him a little.
As I watched out of the corner of my eye I could see he was going mad.
Then, the chairman was ready for him and he was gone into the office.
When they were done, the student came to my desk and with a red face, said
something like, "thank you for your help". I don't know what ever
posessed me because I am usually not this bold but I said something like,
"If you come back at about 5:15 I can help you more." I remember feeling
like my voice was shaking as I nearly whispered this to him so no one
else would hear.
At 5:00 I nearly forgot about this "rendevouz" and at about 5:05
as I was preparing to close up shop, this student appeared in the doorway
and I instantly remembered. I asked him to have a seat and I'd be right
with him as I went around the offices turning out lights and locking
doors. In the dept. chairman's office I turned the light on instead of
off. In my outer office I turned the light off, locked the door and set
the alarm.
I took the young man to the chairman's office and he was the first
to speak. "Look, I'm sorry about today...I noticed that I was staring at
you and I am sorry."
"You were staring at my feet", I added.
"Yeah", he looked embarassed now, "I have a problem about that and
I'm sure you cannot understand".
"Oh, yes, I understand. You see, my husband loves my feet and
can't keep his eyes off a good looking woman's feet."
I sat next to him on the couch. He sat to my right and my left
leg was crossed over the knee of my right. I removed my shoe from my left
foot which was nearly in his lap.
"I have learned to love for my husband to massage the soles of my
feet like this." I took his hand and guided it. He was begining to
breathe heavily as he rubbed. His movements were jerky and uncomfortable
at first but after a few strokes he became more expert and he was rubbing
deeply into my arch with his thumb. He also took his four fingers and
sometimes rubbed lightly up and down the sole, along the little wrinkles
and up to my toes.
After several minutes he took both hands and attempted to draw my
foot up to his face. In order to accomodate that, I laid back on the
couch away from him, kicking my other shoe off and bringing it around to him.
He leaned back the opposite directon so we were actually facing each other
with my legs over him and he was licking my feet and toes. I reached down
underneath my thighs to his crotch and could feel his dick swollen and hard.
As he licked my feet I removed my blouse and bra. I also undid my skirt
and slid the skirt and panties to my knees. He had not noticed this I
don't think because he looked surprised when I withdrew my feet from him
for an instant as I pulled my shirt and panties over my feet. He looked
very surprised as he looked at me butt naked.
As he was frozen like a deer caught by headlights, I got up and
leaned forward and laid my naked body onto him and began kissing him. He
was finding it somewhat hard to breathe. My mouth was working his mouth,
my naked body was on his chest cavity and he was in some later stage of
excitement. So that I would not kill him, I raised up slightly and began
unbuttoning his shirt. He was squirming as I licked his chest and belly
very lightly. I raised back up to rub my tits on his chest. At the same
time I reached my hands under myself to his pants and undid his belt and
zipper. As I was still rubbing my nipples lightly on his chest, I gave
his pants a jerk downward with one hand and his dick sprang free. I
leaned down to pull his pants on down and off. His dick was standing up
like Washington's Monument and I laid back down on him, first pressing his
dick against my belly, which I find really stimulating. He did too.
As I rose upward on him I heard him whimper as part of his labored
breathing. When his tool was mashed against my mound of hair, I rubbed up
and down on it by rotating my hips in a forward-backward gyration. I kept
this up until he was looking like he was going to cum. Then I turned
around and sat on his dick with my back toward him and guided his tool
into me. In that position, the curve of his cock rubbed very well against
my clitoris. I placed my feet upon his chest as I began to thrust.
I like ridng on top and this was a good ride, but short (for him).
He had come almost instantly as I sat atop him. I could feel his spasms
pounding through my pussy walls and then the firehose squirts against my
upper wall. But I kept riding until I came, which took awhile. As I rode
him and after he came, he began to play with my feet, which were just in
front of his face on his chest.
It took me a long time to cum in this position and when I did it
was a very long one. I don't know if I screamed or if I growled or what
but nobody came "breaking into the room", luckily. I remember my spasms
and how concerned I was that I did not kick him in the face.
I turned around and laid down facing him and he was done.
"Thank you" he said in a young, freshman voice.
I said something corny like "the pleasure was mine".
We had a brief talk where I realized we should set rules. I would
not tell anyone and he would not. I talked about what could happen if
either of us did. The consequences. He understood. I felt better and I
think he did too.
So my "freshman fling" was rather brief and I'll bet took no
longer than fifteen minutes or twenty at most. He was immensely happy,
though. And I wasn't going away unfulfilled either.
Later that year or the next he came by the office with a young
girl his age. "Lisa, this is my girlfriend 'Vicky' {or whatever}" and he
seemed proud. She was an attractive girl, a natural blonde with cute
features. One thing I noticed was her feet. It was warm weather because
she was wearing a type of sandle which laced up the leg partway - like
what I think of as a Roman type sandal. Her toenails were painted
immaculately and over the crossed straps of one of the sandals was an
ankle bracelet. There was a lot of attention paid to this one part of her
body. I felt good about it since it seemed that he had found a girl who
was catering to his whims and maybe even a few of her own. He thought to
introduce her to me even though he and I had not maintained any kind of
contact since our "incedent". The smiles on their faces reflected their
confident happiness. I was glad for both of them.
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