At the warehouse, I often found myself stealing glances at my co-worker’s sizable feet, snugly encased in his black boots. He’s a size 13.5 Wide, how do I know, I’ve asked. Our interactions were always light-hearted, and I often cracked jokes about his impressive big feet. Our playful exchanges frequently revolved around his feet, which I couldn’t help but be captivated by.
One day, he caught me staring again and decided to address the elephant in the room, asking if I had a foot fetish or something. Caught off guard, I admitted to my curiosity about men’s feet and their allure, especially when wrapped in dirty socks. He laughed and questioned what exactly I found attractive about them. Without hesitation, I confessed it was the visual, the scent, and the whole experience of big feet that captivated me.
Amused by my candidness, he proposed a proposition: if I covered one of his shifts, he would grant me a unique opportunity. He was planning a getaway with his girlfriend and needed someone to step in for him. In exchange, he offered me the chance to get what I wanted in exchange of me covering him for 4 days. Massaging his feet after work. I agreed, after all, he was a man who worked long hours and I could tell his feet were ripe in his boots and my anticipation was growing by the second.
When Thursday evening arrived, I drove nervously to his house and when I got there he led me to his room and I wasn’t sure what to expect. The ambiance was dim, and my eyes immediately fell on his black boots as he removed his boots, the multi-colored socks peeking out. They were a mix of orange, grey, and black. As he slowly unlaced his boots, the smell of his feet engulfed the room, an exhilarating blend of sour and foot funk that heightened my senses. My dick instantly got hard.
With his boots off, my heart raced as I stood before his sizeable feet. I asked about the boundaries, and he assured me it was all right as long as I didn’t cross any lines he wasn’t comfortable with. It was only about the feet and he could see how excited I was. He made sure to mention, to clean up any man juice I spit out. As I started massaging his feet through his socks, I could feel the warmth and texture of the fabric beneath my fingertips. Wet and heavy with the smell of sweat, his relaxed sighs indicated my efforts were well-received.
As the evening progressed, he shared more about his experiences, and I got lost in the intimacy of the moment. However, he reminded me that indulging in such an experience would require an extra day of my time. With a mixture of excitement and gratitude, I found myself realizing that this unexpected connection had opened doors to experiences I had never anticipated. Funny thing is he now gives me his socks after his 10 hour shift. How did I get so lucky?
Story by Paul T – Edited By Michael Lee