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  • — When I Was a Kid —
    Straight Male / 52

    Iâve had an obsession with womenâs feet since I was a little kid playing with my soldiers or my marbles on the floor in close proximity of my motherâs feet, my auntâs feet and the feet of their female visitors. Even as a 4 and 5 year-old, I had become fascinated by the form of the female foot: the shapely longish toes, the high arches, the sometimes calloused, sometimes smooth heels and soles, and the loveliness of toes painted red, looking luscious like cherries. Oh how badly I wanted, needed to lick those soles and suck those toes. My make believe soldier wars would enter into cease fires as I would crawl ever closer to those enticing feet. When I was within inches of them, and dared not come any closer, dared not kiss them or lick or suck them as I had dreamed of doing, I would sniff the air around the object of my obsession, of my desire or sometimes brush my lips against their feet so that the woman would shoo me away.

    I had a jigsaw puzzle of Dracula carrying a beautiful barefoot maiden to his lair and I would stare at the maidenâs beautiful feet and masturbate my little uncut penis, slap-slap-slapping it back and forth across the foreskin covered head until I would dry cum. Later, when I was 7 or 8 years old, I discovered an entire world of pleasure in the bedroom closets of my mother and her younger sister who had come to live with us after separating and eventually divorcing her husband, a brutish, humorless lout. Whenever I was home alone, I would sit on their closet floors and sniff, lick and suck their sandals and shoes, holding one to my nose or mouth as I furiously masturbated with my right hand. I would carefully selected which sandal, which mule, I would adore and then worship it as I beat my penis until I felt that incredible sensation of cumming, still without semen.

    I first came while masturbating when I was 11 years old and after cumming, a milky, thin substance pooled in my cum slit and dripped off the end of my red rubbed, foreskin covered dick head. At first, I was afraid that Iâd broken it. This was in the early 60âs before there was any sex education at school. Nor had my mother ever related the facts of life to me. Sex was a great mystery. I had picked up enough in elementary school to know that men had outies like mine and that women had innies, and that sex involved placing the outie into the innie, but that was about the extent of my knowledge. Iâd never actually seen anyone elseâs thing. And I had never even heard of cumming. Anyway, believing that Iâd broken my most prized possession, I refrained from beating off for the remainder of the day. However, the next morning, broken or not, I sat in my motherâs closet as she showered and my aunt slept, brought one of her sexier sandals to my lips and flogged my penis with such ferocity that I came on her closet floor and had to wipe up the milky evidence of my sinfulness.

    Soon , I began experimenting thrusting my ever growing erection through the opening of their sandals or mules, until my cock was red and raw and stinging, ultimately shooting volleys of now thickening white cream unto their shoes, and then licking the cum off of them, so that they wouldnât realize what I had done. Sometimes, I would sneak down to the basement and pick my way through the dirty clothes hamper until I found a particularly fragrant pair of their stockings, panties, or hose, then shove them in my pocket, bring them up to my room and sniff, lick and suck them as I beat off. All of this became a regular occurrence for me, as when I would come home from school it was to an empty house, as my mother worked until 5 pm and usually didnât get home until 5:30 or so, and my aunt both worked and attended community college, studying to become a nurse. There were days when I would beat off five and six and even seven times in that 2 ½ hour block of freedom, so that my dick was literally raw from the friction and painful.

    One fateful afternoon when I was 13, I arrived home from school as always to an empty house. I was horny as a lovelorn toad, having spent half the day staring at the soles of Darla Sanders, a girl with whom I was infatuated, who loved kicking off her shoes or dangling her shoes from her sexy big toes, as I sat behind her, staring helplessly at her beautiful feet. By this time, it took very little to get my cock hard, and I had spent the day trying to hide my erection, and even walking home with what looked like a banana in my jeans. I got home, ditched my book bad, walked into my auntâs room, opened her closet, dropped my jeans down around my ankles and sat on the floor first sniffing and then licking her shoes, before selecting a very sexy open toed, high heeled mule, which I then shoved my cock through and began fucking in earnest.

    I was so carried away with the fantasies whirling in my mind, that I never heard the garage door open and close, or my aunt opening the side door and entering the house. I was licking a soiled stocking that sheâd left on the floor. The scent of her feet was more pungent than my momâs. I can only describe them as intensely cheddary-vinegary, and the scent alone would stiffen my cock and have me beating off as I sucked on them, until their flavor stayed with me for hours afterward. Suddenly, her bedroom door opened, and there was my aunt, looking shocked at the sight before her eyes. There was her nephew sporting a large erection, licking her stocking, while fucking her mule. At the sound of the door, I emerged from my reverie and saw my aunt standing there a few feet from me. I tried to stand up, but my jeans bunched as they were around my ankles made me trip forward so that I landed at her sandaled feet, her mule still affixed to my stiff reddened cock. I tried to get up and fell again, so that the look of shock on her face quickly melted into a knowing smile and laughter. I was mortified, laying on the floor at her pretty sandaled feet, my cock still stuck in her mule, unable to get up and pull my cock out of her mule and pull my jeans up to hide my nakedness.

    Still laughing uncontrollably, my aunt bent over to give me a hand and helped me to my feet. She pulled the mule off of my cock, muttering that I was quite ingenious. She suggested that I apply some Noxzema to my raw cock, then went to get the blue bottle from the bathroom. When she returned with it, I had pulled up my jeans and was trying to think sad thoughts to make my erection fade, although this was clearly not working. She offered me the bottle of Noxzema saying, I think you better apply this yourself, then fitfully laughing all over again. I went to the bathroom, slathered the cooling cream all over my cock, pulled up my jeans and found my aunt standing in my bedroom with a soiled pair of her stockings in her hand. She looked at me and I begged her not to tell my mom, and she promised not to tell her. She then asked me if I had a thing for womenâs feet and blushing I admitted that I had. She told me that she had once dated a guy with what she called a foot fetish, and that she was well aware of that kind of thing. She handed me the stockings and told me that I could have them and that she had no problem with me using her shoes, but to try not destroy them and to leave them clean and dry, which made me blush even more.

    After that, my aunt would often sit next to me on the couch watching television, always nestling her feet in my direction. She never did tell me mom. I was sad when she left our home the following year, when she re-married and moved to Oregon with her second husband. After that, I would see her only once a year or every other year, and then even less frequently once I graduated from high school and began attending college. Whenever sheâd get me alone, sheâd always ask me, how is my favorite little foot fetishist doing? And then laugh. It took a few years, but eventually, I would laugh with her, knowing that my secret was safe with her. And, it was.

    #45104 — Comments (0) — Jul 1, 2019 at 5:18 PM — That's Juicy! (11) Remove It.

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