To be perfectly honest, I hate feet. Something about them just seems dirty and disgusting to me. You walk barefoot for a short distance and you automatically need to take a bath. You wear dirty socks over them and smelly shoes. They’re prone to fungus and corns. And sometimes, the smell is indescribably gross. I honestly do not like feet, which is particularly funny since I have a foot fetish.
It all started when I was in college. I was taking a bath with an ex-boyfriend and he was massaging me. Suddenly, he grabbed one of my feet and began sucking on one of the toes. At first, I was disgusted. Dude, do you know where my feet have been? They have been in my Nikes. They have walked barefoot in the grass. I have picked up random things off the ground with them. They have creepy-crawly germs all over them. Soap and water will just get rid of the funk and dirt. But as he continued to suck, I was getting more turned on. He was exploring erotic places on my body I didn’t know even existed. My entire body was on fire and I had never been wetter. The way his tongue moved in between my toes made me wonder if he was trying to make me cum because it was a guarantee. I didn’t have to wait too long for my answer: I came so hard, water splashed out of the tub. My body trembled and it took forever to come down from my high.
So maybe, feet weren’t so bad.
So then it began—my curious love affair with feet. Before, I wouldn’t cared about even painting them. Now I’m giving myself regular pedicures. I dress them up with various paint colors and the latest sandals. Part of it, I’ll admit is for public appearance; everyone likes to look nice. Part of it, however, is because I don’t know when the next potential boyfriend is going to want to have a taste. My wishful thinking came true a few months later when I started to date Bobby. Bobby is what I like to call a nice guy with some rough edges. He’s very quiet about his personal affairs, sometimes not even telling his friends about his behavior. But you know what they say about those quiet ones? They’re the worse.
We were enjoying a relaxing evening at home when he began to give me a foot massage. Let me tell you: Bobby’s hands are blessed from God. He touched every muscle in my feet and I never felt closer to Heaven before. Then Bobby surprised me. My quiet boyfriend began sucking on my big toe. Immediately, my back arched off the sofa. Holy shit, that was hot! I close my eyes and began moaning; I was truly in heaven. Bobby’s tongue was something of legendary status. He flicked it between my toes and swirled it around them. I only wonder if he was that good at pleasing my feet, he had to have been equally fantastic at eating pussy.
Bobby then moved to my other foot and repeated the same technique. Then it began: my legs began to shake, my hands gripped the seat cushions and my teeth were clinched. The feeling began in my inner thighs and boiled over to a mind-blowing orgasm. I screamed out loud in pleasure and let the orgasm wash over me as my body shook. Meanwhile, Bobby got undressed. I was too busy cumming all over my panties to notice what he was doing. Once I opened my eyes, it occurred to me. While I thought my orgasm was the dessert, Bobby suggested it was just the appetizer…
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