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Your Feet in My Face - Chicago
Posted by: Quinn
On: Jul-28-2015 6:20pm UTC Read This Message
Any guys in Chicago want their feet worshiped? Love a nice pair of feet fresh from a run or workout, licking - sucking - and kissing them
Hit back with a pic
quinn_60601@yahoo.com
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Story - Colorado State Fair #3 Final Chapter
Posted by: Justin Buster
On: Jul-07-2015 4:23pm UTC Read This Message
By morning, the drug had worn off and I woke with a start. It took me a few seconds to realize where I was and what was going on. Then the memories of the day before flooded in and I was relaxed.*/*
Chase came in, fresh from a shower, and got dressed. He put on a pair of sneakers, using me to rest his foot on while he pushed it into his shoe. Once they were on, he left. Tanner had already been up and dressed.*/*
Their father came in and helped me to my feet. Tanner was cooking breakfast as I shuffled out to the kitchen. They sat me down at the table and I was offered some coffee. No creamer, this time. I looked at it and laughed. They took the straps off my wrists.*/*
"Want to thank you for last night," I said. "It's been a long time since I've been that relaxed and enjoyed things that much. What on earth was it you gave me?"*/*
"You can thank Lauren for that," their father said. "Something he cooked up to calm the horses. A watered down version, of course. "*/*
"Nothing in the coffee this morning?" I asked, almost sounding disappointed. */*
"No," he said. "Drink up." */*
I drank down the first cup and asked for more. It was probably the best coffee I'd tasted in a long time. */*
The boys were busy packing things up. When breakfast was ready, it was put on the table. I was starved. */*
Their father took my arm and twisted it behind me and put the straps back on. The others laughed as I was pulled off the seat and set on the floor. */*
"I lied," their father said. "This is a little stronger dose." */*
I could tell. It came on me like a train wreck. I wanted to speak, but I couldn't form any words. Chase knelt down and I saw he was holding his flip flops. He put them sole to sole and forced the heels into my mouth till I thought my nose was going to touch the strap. */*
I laid there, sucking on the flip flops as they ate. I was still hungry, but it was obvious I wasn't going to get fed. And it was also looking as if they had more plans for me. There was a lot of panic, now. My mind raced, but all I could do was lay there, unable to move. When they finished eating, dishes were put in the sink, they took their places and, after their father checked the truck hitched to the back of the motor home, they started driving. */*
Time didn't mean much. I tried to think of how and where they were driving, as the motor home turned, but it was too confusing and I gave up. Chase pushed me under the table and sat, his feet on my back. That got me out of the way. Tanner came over a few minutes later and they started playing cards. And I laid there, as the motor home rocked. */*
They stopped for fuel. I could hear a conversation outside. Then they were moving, again. Chase was driving, now, and his father came back and sat at the table. */*
"A little side trip we make each year," he said, "we should be home sometime tomorrow afternoon. */*
There was another stop and he left. I was starting to get hungry, again, and figured it was lunch time. Chase came back and sat. Nothing was said to me and no food was offered. Tanner brought a cup with a straw in it and the straw was slipped in beside the flip flops. I started sucking on it as soon as I could. My body was craving liquid, now. */*
I drained that cup and a cup and a half more. I knew I was getting more of the drug and couldn't figure out why. I was already close to comatose. I laid there as the hum of the wheels and the rocking of the motor home lulled me to sleep. */*
It was dark, when I woke. I was alone. I could hear them outside, talking and laughing. It sounded like they were having a great time. Not much mattered to me. Just barely able to think, I contemplated the flip flops that were in my mouth and found it amusing. A rubber sandwich. */*
I watched their ankles and feet as they came back in. Only view I had. They smelled of wood smoke, as they walked around me. */*
"How long," Chase asked Tanner. */*
"Till morning," he said. "A mixture that lasts, this time. We'll be well on our way before it starts wearing off. Then we'll give him more." */*
No trip to the bedroom tonight. I was left where I was. */*
I was given water the next morning along with more of the drug. The flip flops were taken out. I could smell food being cooked and was almost at the point of passing out from lack of food. */*
"We should feed you," Lauren said. */*
Someone dropped a fried egg and some potatoes on the floor and Lauren stepped on it. I watched it ooze out from under the boot. */*
"Eat it," he said, sitting at the table and turning his foot on its side. */*
It was nothing that resembled food, just a squashed mess on the bottom of his boot. It struck me funny, the drug at work, and I started licking it off his boot. I heard laughter from the others as I "ate" breakfast. When it was gone, I started licking what was on the floor. */*
Lauren got up and stepped over me and came back and held a shoe in front of me. I opened my mouth and got a mouthful of the shoe A short time later we started moving again. */*
I laid there with the shoe in my mouth, smelling all the sweaty smells form inside the shoe. Again, since I was drugged, it was almost enjoyable. I got as comfortable as I could with it and let the motion of the motor home relax me. */*
It was well over three hours, when the motor home came to a stop. They came and got me to my feet and I shuffled along as they guided me. I knew we weren't back in town when they took me outside. The shoe had fallen out when they stood me up. They put a pillow case over my head. I shuffled along the best I could, then I was laid down on a hard surface and left, legs and arms still fastened and unable to move. */*
I heard them, not far away, for quite a while. Then I heard the motor home. A few minutes later, they were all with me. Chase pulled the pillow case off. Putting a foot on the back of my head and pressing my face down on the cement floor, my arms and legs were released. I was trying to get my voice back but pressure on my head convinced me not to say anything. */*
"Get used to your surroundings," their father said. "There's a bucket in the corner if you have to take a crap or anything. And straw against the wall to lay on. We'll be back later." */*
I watched them all leave, laying there, only able to see their legs till they got to the door. It was shut and locked and then I was alone. */*
I heard no activity at all. I tried to stand and couldn't. I looked around the room. Not much more than a cage. What had once been a stall was converted, with the use of chain link and bars, to a cage. The door looked heavy and had a heavy duty lock on it. And I'd heard them slide a bar, after it was closed. */*
It was a small room and I managed to crawl to the straw and laid down. Crawling that short distance had worn me out. I didn't want to sleep, but it came. And when I woke, I felt better. I had to pee and managed to stagger over to the bucket that had been placed in the corner. It felt good and made me feel even better. I heard a noise and turned. */*
The father was outside the door and unlocking it. He came in and it looked like he'd just come from a shower. */*
"It gets cold up here at night," he said, tossing a pair of dirty work boots on the floor. "Clean these and we'll give you a blanket." */*
"And if I don't?" I asked, getting brave. "I don't like this at all. I want you to take me home and let me go." */*
He took the few steps from where he was standing and grabbed my shirt, ripping it as he pulled me toward him. I was helpless and scared. */*
"I don't give a shit if you like it or not," he said. "You're here for one purpose only. To do as we say. We say shit, you ask what color. Now get to work on my boots!" */*
He practically threw me to the floor. Fear set in and I reached for one of his boots. Picking it up, I started licking the dirt off it. I heard a "cluck" of disgust from him. */*
"That's right," he said, "get all that crap off them. I want to see them spotless when I come back." */*
He turned and walked out, locking me in, again. I sat there licking his boot, still scared. I thought they were brown boots, when I looked at them. But, after licking them a little, I found they were black. There was that much crap on them! I licked like my life depended on it, which I believed it did. I licked till I got sick and had to throw up. And then I went back to it. The next time I saw them, it was late afternoon and I was done with the boots. They were sitting in the middle of the floor. */*
All of them walked in and stood. Lauren pointed to the floor in front of him and told me to kneel. I did and a collar and chain was put around my neck. I saw a ring in the floor, recessed so it was below the surface. The chain was fastened to it and locked. My head was now being held down within inches of the floor. Chase knelt down and, holding my head, forced one of the boots I'd cleaned under my head. With such little space between my head and the floor, my face was now pressed inside the boot. My arms were strapped as well as my ankles and my legs pulled back. */*
I could do nothing, now, but lay there as my clothes were cut off me. Shirt, pants, underwear, they were all turned into rags as I lay there. Then they were pulled out from under me and tossed aside. */*
"You'll be given clothes, later," their father said. */*
Then, with my bare butt exposed, the first strike. I hadn't seen the riding crop they'd brought. Each of them took a swipe at my butt with it while I was held down with a boot on my back. I think Lauren enjoyed it the most and hit me twice. */*
"That's what you do, now," he said. "Whatever we tell you to do. And what you'll taste for the rest of your miserable life. Leather, dirt and horse shit." */*
They left me laying there on the cold concrete floor. The stench from the inside of the boot was sickening, at first, but I knew I didn't want to throw up and fought the urge. I had to lay there all night. Somehow, I slept. */*
"Wake up," Lauren said. */*
I hadn't heard him come in. I could sense him standing in front of me. The chain was released and he kicked the boot away. */*
"Kiss my feet," he said. */*
I did as he said. His boots were wet and smelled of dirt. They were old and beat up. */*
"Lick them," he said. */*
I started licking the toe of his boot. */*
"Why are you doing this?" I asked. */*
"You'll be surprised when Dad tells you," he said. "But you didn't have permission to talk. Now you'll have to be punished." */*
I knelt there, licking his boot, expecting to feel a belt on my unprotected back, but it never came. */*
"Dad said to feed you," he said, pushing my head away. "Here!" */*
With that, he dumped the contents of the bowl on the cement floor. */*
"Eat," he said. */*
I started sucking up what had been dumped on the floor. Looked like a mixture of egg, ham and potato. I really didn't care. He moved it around with his foot and made me lick it off his boot. When it was gone, I licked the floor. */*
"We have chores to do," he said, turning away. "I'll be back later in the morning to take you inside." */*
And he was gone. The door locked and I was alone. */*
I licked the floor a little more, after he left, then laid there, waiting. I may have cried a little, thinking how low I'd let myself fall. Thinking how hopeless things looked. */*
I heard it raining and the wind blowing and knew we were getting one hell of a storm. But, as quickly as it started, it was over. About an hour later, Tanner and Lauren came out and got me. */*
They half carried me to the house. I looked around some, but there wasn't much to see. Taken through the kitchen, I was dropped to the floor in the living room in front of their father. */*
"You remember this?" he said, placing a photograph on the floor in front of me. */*
I looked at it and it took a couple of seconds to realize what it was. I had taken pictures at stock car races when I was younger and living back east. The picture was of me on a photographers stand at Rockingham. There was a kid sitting on the rail just to my right. */*
"And this?" he asked, holding up another photo. This one was at Charlotte and again Justin was on a photographers stand. */*
"At Rockingham, you seemed fascinated by my high tops," he said. "They were new, first time I'd worn them. But you couldn't keep your eyes off them. Got to be a game to see how much I could distract you from what you were doing." */*
I remembered Rockingham well. And Justin. His shoes had stood out in my mind for years afterward. I missed some great shots, that day, because of them. */*
I heard the boys laugh. */*
"Couldn't get it out of my mind," he went on. "Three weeks later, we were at Charlotte and there you were, again. You recognized me and got me up on the photo stand with you. Still fascinated by my shoes. You even got to touch them! Spilled coke on one and you reached out and wiped it off without even thinking. Did it feel good?" */*
The boys laughed, again. */*
"Then, at Darlington," he continued, "we invited you to eat with us. Again, I teased you with my shoes and all you could do was sit there and get frustrated. By then it was a game I was really enjoying." */*
"Tell him about Trevor," Lauren said. */*
"After my wife passed," he went on, "it was just me and the boys out here. We adjusted, but it took time. Then, when Lauren was twelve or thirteen, he had a friend from school out for the weekend. I caught them in the barn with his friend Trevor kissing Laurens boots." */*
I heard Lauren laugh. */*
"I tried to explain that they shouldn't do that," he continued, "but it reminded me of you. Anyway, Trevor was out a number of times over the school year and I let them do whatever it was they were doing." */*
"Then came Steve," he said. "Steve was a little more aggressive, as far as boots and shoes went. And it wasn't wasted on us. All the time Lauren was in high school, Steve would come out and take care of our boots and shoes." */*
"I think he was the best," Lauren said, "till Mike got here." */*
"And here I was," Tanner said, "not knowing anything about this and being brought up with someone taking care of my boots and shoes. I loved it!" */*
"I don't know how he managed," said Justin, "but he always managed to find one." */*
"I didn't realize there were that many out there," Lauren said. "Anyway, Mike came to us right out of high school. He liked it out here and wanted to be our slave. It was said as a joke, the first time. But we soon convinced him it was a great idea. I was going off to college, then, and there would be just the three of them for Mike to take care of." */*
"He liked everything we did to him," Tanner said. "Sweaty socks, smelly feet, boots and shoes. He was pure slave, all the way." */*
"The cage in the barn was his idea," Justin said. "Wanted us to keep him locked up like a real slave." */*
"We kept him till last year," Chase said. */*
"Some kind of a family emergency," Lauren said. */*
"But I placed you at the fair, last year," Justin said, "and we've been preparing for you since. The boys wanted to take you last year but we weren't ready for you then." */*
"You'll still see the cage," Tanner said, "but most of the time you'll be right here in the house where you'll serve us." */*
"Get a shoe," Justin said. */*
Tanner left the room and came back carrying a lone sneaker. He followed his father's instructions and held it on its side as Chase forced my head down till I had part of the shoe in my mouth. Justin lifted his foot and placed it on my head. */*
"You're where you belong, now," he said. "You'll be tasting dirt, shit and leather for the rest of your life. Before the first snow falls, you'll be conditioned to have no other purpose than to serve us." */*
"Remember that last weekend at Darlington?" Justin asked. "Dad couldn't take me to the races and, since we were such great "friends", I went with you. You were in the tent and I came in and laid down. I started poking your head with my foot and you warned me that you'd bite it if it got too close. And I planted my foot right on your face? Was that the first time you'd had a shoe in your mouth? First time you tasted sneaker?" */*
The boys laughed. */*
"I spent the weekend teasing him with my shoes," he continued, talking to the boys now. "He had my shoe in his mouth maybe 10, 15 times. Tried to pass it off as just kidding around. But he enjoyed it"*/*
"Well," Chase said, "It's all come down to this. Our boots and shoes." */*
"Our sweaty feet and socks," Lauren said. */*
"How much of that story you told us on the way home was bullshit?" Justin asked. */*
"None," I said. */*
"You'll be smelling dirty socks and shorts, smelling farts, you'll be a foot stool," Lauren said, "and you'll love it." */*
You'll wash clothes, make beds, do all the housework we don't want to do," Justin said." */*
And get used to your new name, Slave" Chase said, "That's what you are, now." */*
"Drag him over here," Tanner said. */*
I was dragged by my arm pits over to where Tanner was sitting. His shoes and socks were off and sitting on the floor beside his feet. I could smell the sweat even before my head was lowered. */*
"Lick my feet, slave", he said. */*
I'd looked at his feet a number of times on the trip here and, drug induced, thought they were nice looking feet. There wasn't anything nice about them, now. */*
"Lick," he said, leaning forward and swatting my butt with the riding crop. */*
I saw no point in postponing the inevitable. I started licking and resigned myself to being their slave.
Reply posted by: Justin Buster On: Jul-11-2015 12:00am UTC
Questions? Would like to hear how I did. Post Reply
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Looking for smelly socks in SF
Posted by: Sniffursocks
On: Jul-06-2015 4:19am UTC Read This Message
54yo, wm, 6', #162, brwn, blue looking for smelly, stinky socks in my face. Whether mutual or just me...I want your sweaty socked feet! All socks, except sheers.
Reply posted by: Justin Buster On: Jul-11-2015 12:00am UTC
Questions? Would like to hear how I did. Post Reply
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Any mature men in FL with smelly feet?
Posted by: Foot sniffer FLL
On: Jul-05-2015 2:57am UTC Read This Message
Will go anywhere within the state of Florida to massage by above all sniff a mature mans feet. 32 5'10 165 lbs Hispanic. Pic available upon request. Mature men 60+ only please.
Reply posted by: Alan On: Dec-19-2015 12:00am UTC
Hi, I am 67 and have very nice feet. Are you anywhere near Orlando? Alan
Reply posted by: f,john On: Jan-29-2016 12:00am UTC
naples businessman here-61 yrs old.love to have my socks sniffed and massaged. Post Reply
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Looking for master in Ohio
Posted by: Evan Chen
On: Jul-04-2015 2:24am UTC Read This Message
I am an international student studying in Miami University,Oxford,Ohio. I want to lick smell the sweaty socked feet, bare feet, drink the piss and be farted on my face, humiliate me by using dirty words. I prefer to the straight guys.
Reply posted by: Alan On: Dec-19-2015 12:00am UTC
Hi, I am 67 and have very nice feet. Are you anywhere near Orlando? Alan
Reply posted by: f,john On: Jan-29-2016 12:00am UTC
naples businessman here-61 yrs old.love to have my socks sniffed and massaged. Post Reply
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25 yr. old in Albany, NY looking for Foot Dom
Posted by: Ryan
On: Jul-02-2015 7:58pm UTC Read This Message
Fit, masculine good looking guy in Albany, NY looking for a foot dom to make me his foot slave. Willing to travel to other areas/states, within a few hours. Let me know if we can work something out.
Reply posted by: dressSox On: Feb-09-2016 12:00am UTC
any chance ur into dress sox? or just feet? Post Reply
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Seeking foot/spit master Chicago
Posted by: Thomas
On: Jul-02-2015 3:41pm UTC Read This Message
I'm looking for a guy to make me worship his feet, smell his sweaty athletic gear, and drink his spit. Maybe other things too. I'm near Chicago. 40 y/o, average build.
Reply posted by: dressSox On: Feb-09-2016 12:00am UTC
any chance ur into dress sox? or just feet? Post Reply
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GYM CLASS Experiences
Posted by: Stone
On: Jul-01-2015 10:03pm UTC Read This Message
Care to share some of your experiences of being teased in gym class?
Hope you will add your
I'll start off with what happened to me.
Greg always teased me in gym class and seemed to like to make me sniff his worn gym socks and sneakers after class in the locker room. He was a Jock and the guys were on his side no matter what he did to me in that locker room. I think that this is part of the reason I need to be at straight guy’s feet so much.
I remember the night of a softball game between us and the neighboring school. I wasn't much of a sports person. The only reason I would go was to hang out under the bleachers and check out the sneakers and socks that the guys were wearing. I made my way under as the bleachers were getting filled. Because of Greg teasing me, I found that I had more and more of a need to be close to the feet of the athletic guys.
I waited until everyone was just about settled down. There was a good crowd tonight, so many sneakers to choose from. I noticed a pair that really attracted me and I made my way over. The guy I noticed was wearing a pair of blue Airwalks and white socks. The shoes looked somewhat beat up, but that's what made them so attractive. I couldn't see the guy wearing them, but he had really tan muscular legs. I heard his buddy call him by name, "Rocky" - what a power name for a hot student like him. I stood there a few minutes admiring them.
Greg was sitting low enough so that his feet were just a few inches above my head. He moved his sneakers to the back of the bleachers. The heels of the Airwalks were hanging over the edge. I positioned myself under them and began trying to sniff the backs of the soles without him noticing. I got snuck a few beers before the game and felt that young buzz that you get when you don’t drink too much and are still a teen, so I didn’t have as many inhibitions. I decided to lightly lick the soles of his sneakers. I could taste the rubber in my mouth, along with the dirt that was on them. As my tongue went over the bottoms I could also feel the small pebbles and grit stuck in the grooves. Then my tongue hit something too big and soft to be a pebble. It was gum. He had stepped in gum and it stuck to his shoe. I stepped back, tasting the flavor of it in my mouth. After I recovered from that, I went back over to him. I wanted to see if I could get a whiff of his shoes or socks. In order to do so, I had to raise myself up a bit to get near the top of the sneakers. I grabbed hold of the bench and raised myself up. I tried to gently smell his socks, when all of the sudden our team must have scored. He jumped up, and in doing so, kicked me in the face with the back of his shoe. Still stunned, I had no time to react. He knew he hit something with his foot and bent over and looked down and saw me. I know I was scared at what he would do. He said something to Rocky, but I couldn’t hear it. While still standing and cheering the team, his sneaker returned to the bleacher right on my hand. He knew that my need for his humiliation and his feet was growing by our senior year. The weight of him standing on my hand made it impossible for me to move it. I had all I could do to hold in the pain I felt. He must have liked the feeling of my hand under his shoe, because it tormented and humiliated me. Why do jocks like to dominate and tease and mock the wimp guys? Still standing on my hand, he took the bottom of his sneaker and pushed my hand away and off the bleacher. I figured I needed to take a break, so I just stood under there at his feet. He must have been holding a drink, because after a while he sat it on the bottom of the bench. A few minutes later the team umped up. He knocked it off the back, and all the liquid poured all over my shirt. I heard someone near him tell him he just knocked over his drink. He told the person not to worry about it. There was already a bunch of crap and garbage under the stands. It wasn't like anyone would notice it. I know that he knew what he was doing, and I was soaked because of it. I decided to get out of there before he brought any more attention to me. There were other times and other things that this guy did to humiliate me in gym class. Dodge-ball was the worst. He would always use that strong arm of his and aim for me and laugh as I got hit with it. He knew what he was doing. Come on guys, you have experienced stuff like this, too! Tell of some of the domination that happened to you in gym classes. Also do any of you notice how those jocks never seemed to take their socks home to be washed? If you want, I had many times being in the locker room when no one was there and I could get to the sweaty gym clothes … but you probably don’t want to hear about that.
Oh, he was in my history class, and I sat one row over and behind him and would watch him continuously slide his socked feet in and out of his shoe. I couldn't help myself from getting hard when I watched this. I wonder if he knew that I was watching his feet as he kept sliding them in and out of his shoes. God how I wanted to crawl up to them and sniff the high arch of his foot, but I never did because I was petrified of others knowing that I liked his feet. Once, he did turn and look right at me and had to see my eyes looking at his feet because he was smiling when I looked up at his face to see him looking at me. I was scared shitless.............
Do any of you guys have experiences or fantasies to share about being dominated in gym class?
I found this hot photo to share that reminded me of those days!
Reply posted by: dressSox On: Feb-09-2016 12:00am UTC
any chance ur into dress sox? or just feet? Post Reply
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Help finding 2 foot fetish stories
Posted by: BB
On: Jun-30-2015 1:06pm UTC Read This Message
I need help finding two foot fetish stories please. The first was about an eighteen year old white guy who was made to work in McDonalds where all the staff were Mexican and they used to abuse him making him lick their feet.
The 2nd story I originally read about a heterosexual slave couple but I then read it a few years later and the author had changed it to a gay male couple. It was about a couple who were used as slaves by a party of men and they were trampled and used and abused and in one part a man was standing full weight on the slaves head and it felt like it was going to explode.
If anyone can help me locate these or are able to email them to me please reply would love to find these stories again
Reply posted by: dressSox On: Feb-09-2016 12:00am UTC
any chance ur into dress sox? or just feet? Post Reply
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Boots, dress shoes, sneakers need cleaning? Colorado
Posted by: Justin Buster
On: Jun-30-2015 1:04pm UTC Read This Message
Anyone in Colorado need their footwear cleaned? Love (to be forced) to lick boots, shoes and sneakers. Live on a ranch?
Reply posted by: dressSox On: Feb-09-2016 12:00am UTC
any chance ur into dress sox? or just feet? Post Reply
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Looking for dress socked feet in Chicago
Posted by: btm4blksox
On: Jun-29-2015 4:32pm UTC Read This Message
Hey there. I want to be under someone's dress socked feet (black, navy, brown, etc.) after a long day at your work. I will massage, sniff, kiss, and worship your socked feet like they deserve. I love to be dominated. Any age, any type, I just want your sweaty socked feet in my face.
Reply posted by: Suitguy On: Jul-03-2015 12:00am UTC
Hey guy here in chicago like to have his dress shoes licked cleaned polished and my socked feet massaged if interested email me at cool.guy.84@hotmail.com we could chat more about it
Reply posted by: Masc.man.for.your. Feet On: Dec-18-2015 12:00am UTC
Hello fellow Chicagoan, would love to get under your socked feet. Email me: corvetcentral@aol.com Post Reply
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i am submissive and footslave
Posted by: adams alberto
On: Jun-26-2015 3:03pm UTC Read This Message
hello all, I'm a good slave worshiper feet, you could use me as his footrest while you are watching TV, I can travel to your city, I would also like to belong to footfraternity group as a slave feet, I am very skilled, I am 30 years old
at your feet
Beto
Reply posted by: Steven On: Jul-13-2015 12:00am UTC
Beto, ever come up to Los Angeles/Beverly Hills? Will you wear nylon dress socks too? Let me know..... Post Reply
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Long Island/NY
Posted by: Mike
On: Jun-26-2015 12:27pm UTC Read This Message
Heyy fellow foot dudes. Just wanted to post this up on here that if anyone is in the Manhattan or Long Island area (or ever visits), definitely let me know here. Not that many guys around here that are open to the love of feet lol I'm submissive, but I'll let anyone that wants my size 11s be under them. I'm 22, 5'9, and "masc" but I don't care much about if you're twinkish or whatever masc.
Also just wanted to thank all the jocks and the website owner for this site, incredible stuff everyone really.
Reply posted by: jsal On: Jul-08-2015 12:00am UTC
Hey - foot sub here in Nassau. Let me know if you're interested in talking more.
Reply posted by: nycguy On: Jul-12-2015 12:00am UTC
Hey there -- interested in a meet up as well. Let me know if you are too.
Reply posted by: Greg On: Oct-01-2015 12:00am UTC
Hey masc guy into feet. Love having a guy service my hot feet can get into mutual feet worship. Long Island guy here Let me know. 45. 5 10. 185.
Reply posted by: va On: Jan-01-2016 12:00am UTC
hey email me. Suffolk here. Post Reply
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Loafers and Dress Shoe Play
Posted by: Loafers Dress Shoes
On: Jun-23-2015 6:56pm UTC Read This Message
Looking to meetup with other guys into loafers and dress shoes. Penny loafers, weejuns, tassels, wingtips, captoes, etc. Professional white male with extensive collection of quality executive footwear to be serviced. Enjoy mutual shoe/loafer play, if you do as well please reply.
Reply posted by: Durermac On: Jun-26-2015 12:00am UTC
Good morning. I assume that you don't live in the state of Pennslyvania. I am interested in men's dress shoes ( the brighter the shine, the better). Take care and good luck with your search.
Reply posted by: adams alberto On: Jun-26-2015 12:00am UTC
i am footslave, i can service to you master beto princejr24@hotmail.com 
Reply posted by: Justin Buster On: Jun-27-2015 12:00am UTC
Sure would like to be that hassock. justin.buster@comcast.net
Reply posted by: TIGRE On: Jul-01-2015 12:00am UTC
MY SHOES 
Reply posted by: john horan On: Aug-02-2015 12:00am UTC
Hi,Am into preppy Bass Weejuns,love to meet at gay bars,go to townhouse in New York
Reply posted by: alden.james1993@yahoo.com On: Oct-23-2015 12:00am UTC
I think we have several interests based off your picture. I am a 22 yr old college guy looking to meet an older, professional guy who likes wearing nice loafers and likes getting attention for them. I also like wearing nice loafers - have a pair of alden full straps - and enjoy getting some service as well. If you reply and give an email address I can send you some pictures of me. I am a pretty attractive guy alden.james1993@yahoo.com
Reply posted by: N2darksocks On: Nov-27-2015 12:00am UTC
Into everything you stated. I'm also a professional white male with a vast collection of quality dress shoes. Into mutual shoe/loafer play and socked feet. Let me know if you interested. I travel for my job and could be in your area. Thanks 
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Looking for stinky socked feet in Houston, TX or Columbus, OH
Posted by: SockSniffer
On: Jun-22-2015 11:29pm UTC Read This Message
Hello out there...
Anyone in Houston, TX or Columbus, OH looking for a sub to bury their sweaty stinky socked feet into the face of? Look no further...
I love sport socks. Taller and thicker the better but am open to basically anything non-sheer.
Reply posted by: Hotfeet On: Jun-03-2021 12:00am UTC
Still looking. Post Reply
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Looking for socked feet
Posted by: Socklover
On: Jun-21-2015 4:29am UTC Read This Message
Hi. I'm from Tijuana, Mexico, and I would like to know if there are any guys from San Diego area that would like to explore socked foot fetish.
Reply posted by: Loves nylon socks On: Jun-26-2015 12:00am UTC
Hey, do you wear nylon socks? Post Reply
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Want to be under your sexy feet - Maryland
Posted by: JD
On: Jun-19-2015 6:17pm UTC Read This Message
Love to have a guy gently dominate me with his smelly socks, but lean feet. Gen.
Reply posted by: A On: Jul-02-2015 12:00am UTC
Hey I'm up for some foot fun. I'm a grad student
Reply posted by: HG On: Aug-13-2015 12:00am UTC
Hey A -- I'm in maryland too, also a grad student :) Post Reply
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Wondering
Posted by: Durermac
On: Jun-19-2015 9:45am UTC Read This Message
Good morning. I was wondering if there is anyone in Harrisburg Pennsylvania that wants their dress shoes (the brighter the shine, the better) worshipped?
Reply posted by: A On: Jul-02-2015 12:00am UTC
Hey I'm up for some foot fun. I'm a grad student
Reply posted by: HG On: Aug-13-2015 12:00am UTC
Hey A -- I'm in maryland too, also a grad student :) Post Reply
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Any guys in cape town wanna dominate someone with his feet....
Posted by: Shenclone
On: Jun-18-2015 9:48am UTC Read This Message
Any guys in cape town wanna dominate a twenties white chub in cape town.... have never done anything like this but would really like to. NOT after sex. Only foot domination and worship.
This seems to be a non existing scene here
Reply posted by: Neeco On: Jul-20-2015 12:00am UTC
It sure does seem non-existent over here. I was surprised to even find your message. Send me an email if you like, we could chat ;) masterneeco@gmail.com 
Reply posted by: smoothltnfootslv On: Sep-02-2015 12:00am UTC
very hot feet neeco, love the long toes....what size are they Post Reply
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Punishment
Posted by: GermanFootsniffer
On: Jun-13-2015 4:58am UTC Read This Message
Hello:)
I wonder if there are cops who punish people with smelling their feet socks and shoes/boots. I think this would be an effective method to give some people a lesson :))
Reply posted by: TIGRE On: Jul-01-2015 12:00am UTC
FOR YOU 
Reply posted by: GermanFootsniffer On: Jul-15-2015 12:00am UTC
Thank you very much TIGRE :) Post Reply
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Buried on a Sandy Beach With Head at the Mercy of Men's Feet
Posted by: Marcus
On: Jun-12-2015 9:05pm UTC Read This Message
Have any of you had this fantasy? It became reality for me!
Reply posted by: raullo On: Jun-13-2015 12:00am UTC
me! i have done this and i need to repeat it. Its a great fantasy! if you want we can talk about that. write me: raullo234@hotmail.com great!
Reply posted by: GermanFootsniffer On: Jun-13-2015 12:00am UTC
yes it s also my fantasy :) often if i lay at a beach or lake I think about men put their feet on my face:)
Reply posted by: raullo On: Jun-17-2015 12:00am UTC
so lets do it!!!! Post Reply
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about models in ultra sheers sox
Posted by: chrisheers
On: Jun-06-2015 7:17am UTC Read This Message
hi i love the website i ordered some dvd especially in models with ultrasheers for example, Nathan or Graham. This are my fav and if some of you share this passion for ultrasheers tell me and of course please i'll love more often videos with that. i love Nathan and i'll like the return of Preston in sheers.
Reply posted by: raullo On: Jun-13-2015 12:00am UTC
me! i have done this and i need to repeat it. Its a great fantasy! if you want we can talk about that. write me: raullo234@hotmail.com great!
Reply posted by: GermanFootsniffer On: Jun-13-2015 12:00am UTC
yes it s also my fantasy :) often if i lay at a beach or lake I think about men put their feet on my face:)
Reply posted by: raullo On: Jun-17-2015 12:00am UTC
so lets do it!!!! Post Reply
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Celebrities feet
Posted by: GermanFootsniffer
On: Jun-04-2015 6:16am UTC Read This Message
Hello:)
I would like to know are there some celebrities who are known to like to show their feet or would like make someone smell feet socks and shoes?:)
Greetings
Reply posted by: raullo On: Jun-13-2015 12:00am UTC
me! i have done this and i need to repeat it. Its a great fantasy! if you want we can talk about that. write me: raullo234@hotmail.com great!
Reply posted by: GermanFootsniffer On: Jun-13-2015 12:00am UTC
yes it s also my fantasy :) often if i lay at a beach or lake I think about men put their feet on my face:)
Reply posted by: raullo On: Jun-17-2015 12:00am UTC
so lets do it!!!! Post Reply
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Favoirite Foot Scenes from TV shows
Posted by: Jim
On: Jun-03-2015 7:52pm UTC Read This Message
I wanted to know which TV show had your favorite foot scene of all time. For me it was an episode of the Incredible Hulk titled Metamorphosis where the hulk holds David Banner down with his big size 15 barefoot during a hallucination scene. Would like to see if there's anything out there I've missed. Thanks.
Reply posted by: jack On: Dec-16-2015 12:00am UTC
I too remember this scene from the Incredible hulk. I remember watching it as a young kid and loved hulk towering over david banner and holding him down with his foot. Hot scene
Reply posted by: John On: Jan-19-2016 12:00am UTC
Not sure if you would think these are hot or not, but I remember two episodes of "Married with Children" where Al Bundy holds a guy down with his foot in a victory pose sort of way after battling with them. One episode was "England show II" and the other was "Peggy and the Pirates". I remember as a kid liking it.
Reply posted by: Foot Scene from TV On: May-28-2016 12:00am UTC
I swear I remember this but I never seem to find it on YouTube. But, years ago on the I Dream Of Jeannie series with Barbara Eden, there is a daydream sequence where Jeannie is imaging married life with Tony (her Master/Larry Hagman). He comes home from work and puts his feet up on a foot stool and she kneels at his foot stool and removes his shoes. Post Reply
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Story - Colorado State Fair #2
Posted by: Justin Buster
On: Jun-02-2015 9:45pm UTC Read This Message
"I'm not sure I like where this is going," I said, taking a gulp of coffee. My hands were shaking. **
"It's OK," their father said. "More coffee?"**
He got me another cup and I drank half of it down. Only then did I realize I was being drugged. There was a second or two of panic and I settled down. Then I asked if they really wanted to know. It was an overwhelming yes, so I told them how I'd been kidnapped when I was ten and how my fetish had "matured" over the years. It felt good to tell the story, what little there was of it. I had no memory of it, other than what I'd been told.**
"Come here," Chase said, taking my arm and pulling me out of the seat. He got me out and pushed me to my knees at Tanners foot. A little pressure on the back of my head and my nose was against the sole of his boot.**
"Kiss it," Tanner said.
I kissed it. It felt warm and smelled of dirt and maybe a little "barn yard".**
"Now isn't that a great boot," he asked. "Don't you just love it?"**
I didn't want to, but I said yes.**
"Lick some of the dirt off," his father said.**
I stuck my tongue out and started licking the sole of his boot. It was like they knew just what buttons to push to get me started. I didn't know what kind of drug they had given me, didn't really care.**
"Now let him lick my shoes," Lauren said. I'd remembered him walking past the table some time ago.**
I was helped to my feet and led to the front of the motor home and to the couch where Lauren was stretched out. They pushed me to my knees at his feet and he told me to lick his shoes. I was surprised at how quickly I got into licking his sneakers.**
"How long will he be like this?" Lauren asked.**
"As long as we keep the drug in him," their father said. "He's got enough in him now to last well into the evening."**
"You don't have to drug me," I said. "I'm more than willing to do as you say. You seem to be enjoying this as much as I am."**
"That's the drug talking," Tanner said.**
The four of them laughed and I kept licking Laurens shoes till I'd done them both.**
"Come lick my boots," their father said.**
He was sitting at the table, now, against the wall. I crawled over to the table, then under it and started licking his boots.**
"You really like licking boots, don't you?" he asked.**
"I love it," I said.**
The others came and sat and I was now surrounded by boots and shoes. One of Tanners was on my hand and I loved the way it felt. Chase had crossed his leg and the toe of his boot was against my side. The air under the table was filled with the smell of leather and dirt I kept waiting for him to stop me, but he said nothing to me. I kept licking his boots then picked one up, with my free hand, worked my way into position, and started licking the sole of his boot. No one said a word to me as I knelt there and I just kept licking, cleaning every inch of the boot.**
I was still at it when Lauren got up and left the table. It seemed like it had been hours since all this started. About ten minutes later, he came back and set food on the table. I realized how hungry I was and I waited to be let out, so I could eat, but it didn't happen. then I realized I didn't care. I was under the table, under their feet, licking a boot clean. **
I heard thunder and then rain on the roof and knew we were getting one of our afternoon thunder storms. I didn't like those storms and, somehow, felt safe under the table.**
When they finished, a plate was put on the floor and pushed over to where I was. It didn't look like anything I'd seen before and then realized it was what they'd scraped off their plates.**
"Eat," Chase said, pushing it the last few inches, his boot now resting on the edge of the paper plate covering some of the food.**
I put their fathers foot on the floor and lowered my head to the plate. Eating under the table, food they would have thrown out, Chases boot on the plate, it was wonderful! **
I cleaned the plate and what food had gotten on Chase's boot and then started licking the top of his boot. He pulled his foot back and the plate with it and I was back to just kneeling under the table.**
I watched, from under there, as they cleaned up. All I could see were jean legs and feet. Lauren came over and sat and put his feet on me. I liked the feel of his shoes. I lowered my head so he could rest his foot in my face and he seemed happy to do it.**
I heard one of them leave, but couldn't see with Lauren's foot on my face. A few minutes later, he was back. He swore, a little, having been caught in a downpour just before getting back. I recognized it as Chase.**
They all gathered at the table and I smelled the wet boots right away.**
"Clean them," he said, as Lauren took his foot off my face.**
I turned and saw his wet boots on the floor. I'd joked about his "pink" boots, asking if they were his "strawberry" boots. They were a pair that he wore on occasion for Cancer day. I lowered my head and started licking.**
"Taste like strawberry?" he asked.**
They all laughed, not really expecting an answer from me.**
I felt someone messing with my ankles and realized someone was fastening them together.**
"Just a horse hobble," their father said. "Want to add a little realism."**
"No problem," I said, as continued to lick Chases boots.**
They sat above me playing cards and watching a little TV. By the time they decided to turn in, Chases boots were spotless. Still damp, from the rain, but very clean.**
They pulled me out from under the table and stood me up. My arms were pulled behind me and my wrists fastened. Another horse hobble was used.**
I was taken back to the rear bedroom, having to shuffle, since my ankles were fastened, and laid on the floor between the two beds that occupied the room. Chase sat and pulled his boots off and lifted my head so he could put them under it. Seemed like I was going to have a leather pillow.**
He undressed and got into bed and Tanner did the same. Sweaty socks had been tossed down on top of my head. I don't know if it was the drug or the whole scene, but I was enjoying every second of it.**
It didn't take long for all the lights to go out and the motor home to go silent. I wasn't uncomfortable at all and fell asleep soon after they did.**
Reply posted by: Martin On: Jun-19-2015 12:00am UTC
Brill story when are u writing the next part
Reply posted by: justin.buste On: Jun-27-2015 12:00am UTC
Coming soon to a computer near you Post Reply
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Do you like to share experiences over the phone?
Posted by: JockFun
On: Jun-02-2015 1:27pm UTC Read This Message
I enjoy talking to others about this scene and telling of my experiences and hearing about yours. If you are interested in phone talk, feel free to e-mail me at Sports22Model@aol.com
I'd like to hear from you.
Reply posted by: Martin On: Jun-19-2015 12:00am UTC
Brill story when are u writing the next part
Reply posted by: justin.buste On: Jun-27-2015 12:00am UTC
Coming soon to a computer near you Post Reply
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These socked feet deserve to have a slave kneeling before them!
Posted by: Sock Lover
On: Jun-02-2015 1:22pm UTC Read This Message
How would you like to sniff these?
Reply posted by: Talapus On: Jan-01-1970 12:00am UTC
The is a BIG hell yes!
Reply posted by: JD On: Jun-19-2015 12:00am UTC
Would love to. Where?
Reply posted by: smoothltnboyfootslv On: Jun-22-2015 12:00am UTC
I would be honored to have those sweaty damp socks in my mouth as a gag.
Reply posted by: footlover On: Sep-23-2015 12:00am UTC
Please Master tell me where you are located?? I would love to service your feet!!
Reply posted by: fjm On: Feb-05-2016 12:00am UTC
would be my honor.where are you? Post Reply
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Has anyone heard of this guy who licks shoes?
Posted by: Shoe Licker
On: Jun-02-2015 1:14pm UTC Read This Message
He is called the Tampa Bay shoe licker! Who takes these films of him? Does anyone know who he is?
Reply posted by: Ned On: Jul-07-2015 12:00am UTC
Appeared on local tv, abc news last week Licking bottoms of shoes without any Choice in gender, age (etc) Post Reply
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Story - Colorado State Fair
Posted by: Justin Buster
On: Jun-02-2015 12:11pm UTC Read This Message
It was the middle of State Fair week and, so far, I'd managed most of the days. The second day I was there, at the rodeo that night, I met Justin and his boys. They were from the other side of the state and said they came in every year, spent a few days and then went home. Had a motor home at a camp ground on the edge of town and drove in every day in an old super cab pickup truck.
His kids ranged in age from 19 to 24 and were attending a community college where they lived. They had a small ranch where the raised horses. The oldest had been a bare back rider, when he was younger.
I told them little about me, since I didn't have a lot to tell, but we seemed to hit it off and, the next day, I met them again and we hung out together taking in the fair and then the rodeo that night. We arranged to meet the next day for breakfast and another day at the fair.
It was late in the afternoon that they asked if I'd like to come with them for dinner.
"It will be your last chance before we leave in the morning," their father said.
I didn't see any problem with it and said I'd like to. It had been a long time since I had been around "friends" and I liked the idea. I told them where I was parked and they suggested I ride out with them and leave my car where it was.
We walked out to their truck, which was parked on the street. Lauren, the oldest, stooped down and picked up some straw from the sidewalk. He turned away and then back, holding three pieces of straw.
"We have a pecking order," he said, grinning. "I ride up front and my brothers ride in back. Since there are only two jump seats back there, you'll have to draw straws to see who gets them."
Tanner, the youngest, reached out and pulled on a piece of straw. He held it up, proudly. Then the remaining two were presented to me. I pulled on one of them and it was much shorter than Tanners.
"Looks like Tanner and I get the seats," Chase, the third son said.
"You should let Chuck have one of them," their father said.
"I'm fine with it," I said. "It was all fair and square and I lost."
Tanner got in the back of the truck, when Lauren pulled the front seat forward, and sat on the far seat. I got in and got myself settled on the floor, sitting on a pillow that Tanner had tossed down. Then Chase got in and the seat was put back in place. Lauren and his father got in and he started the truck.
"You sure you're OK with this?" he asked me, before pulling away from the curb.
"No problem," I said. Hell, I couldn't have asked to be in a better place. I was sitting at the feet of two guys wearing boots! I loved it!
We got out on the main road and he turned right. Tanner shifted in his seat a little and crossed his leg. With there not being a lot of room, his foot was only inches from my head. I was getting a great view of the bottom of his boot. He was wearing brown lace up boots, like his Dad's. One of Chase's boots was against my butt (I was almost sitting on it). How could things get any better. How? I put my hands on the floor and shifted my position, just a little, to get more comfortable. My fingers were over the toe of Chase's boot and I left them there.
The ride took about a half hour and I had to duck, a couple of times, to prevent myself being kicked by Tanner's boot when his father changed lanes. The two of them laughed, as I dodged the boot.
We pulled off the road and started over a short dirt road. Tanner's foot was swinging around and, once, the sole brushed my cheek. When the truck came to a stop, he un-crossed his leg. He got out first, then me and then Chase.
It was really a plush motor-home, at least from the outside. I stood there, looking at it, as the door was unlocked and, one by one, we went in. And the inside was just as plush. It was a true "home away from home". Carpet on the floor, furniture you'd expect to see in a house, a full kitchen. Really nice!
Tanner sat on the bench seat on one side of the table and indicated I should sit on the opposite side. I did and Lauren slid in beside me. I was offered a cup of coffee, which I took, and started sipping it. It had a creamer in it that made it taste like cinnamon and I liked it. We made some small talk and my coffee was refilled. Tanner leaned back against the wall and put one leg over the corner of the table. My eyes were immediately drawn to his foot and boot. I thought I heard him laugh.
I took a good drink of the coffee, hoping it would distract me. It did and I asked for more.
With the third cup about half gone, their father turned and leaned back against the stove.
"So," he said, "how long have you been interested in boots?"
"You've been looking at mine for the past five minutes," Tanner said.
"Not to mention all the way back here in the truck," Chase said. "And you had your hand on mine!"
More?
Reply posted by: Chris On: Jan-01-1970 12:00am UTC
Whoa, I sure love boots! Would love to hear more of your story here! Post Reply
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Care to lick the sand off of his feet?
Posted by: Chris
On: Jun-02-2015 11:25am UTC Read This Message
What command this Stud would give to you?
Reply posted by: Justin Buster On: Jan-01-1970 12:00am UTC
I'd lick the sand off his feet any day! Post Reply
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A Hot Domination Story
Posted by: Penny Loafers
On: Jun-02-2015 11:20am UTC Read This Message
Hi Guys,
I'd like to share a story with you for your pleasure. What do you think of it?
Greg
It was hard to meet Greg’s eyes as he came downstairs, ready to leave for work. “I was pretty drunk last night,” I said sheepishly, not looking at him as I poured myself some coffee. “Otherwise I probably wouldn’t have told you that crazy stuff.”
In most ways, the night before was great for me, because Greg and I finally got to bond a little bit over some beers, a little celebration he sponsored upon getting promoted to supervisor at the lumber yard where he only started working a couple months ago. For the first time, he had been kind of friendly to me. You see, although we share an uncle in common who let us both share this big house in his absence when we separately decided to move to this city to look for work, we’re not blood cousins and I think Greg subtly never wanted me to forget that. He just always had a little chip on his shoulder that put me at a distance. Even the beer he shared with me last night seemed like his way to rub it in my face that he found a job first, and I was just a freeloader of less value than himself. One minute he was cool and treating me like a friend, but the next minute he was doing shit like snapping his fingers and ordering me to go fetch the next cool one out of the fridge.
Why did I go along with it? I guess I couldn’t help it. You’d understand if you knew Greg. I confess I’ve had a crush on him forever, and now that he’s in his 20s he is more attractive than ever. My shameful secret is, I had heard Greg was housesitting for my uncle already, and that’s why I hinted to my uncle I could really use a place to stay so I could start a new life in this city. I knew my uncle would tell me to stay at his spare house, where he hasn’t lived for years, even though Greg was already living there. I hadn’t seen Greg in years but could hardly forget him, and could hardly stop fantasizing about him. When we were younger, he’d pick on me a little on those rare occasions we would hang out together for family events, maybe to compensate for his entering the family as a foster child, just to remind himself that it was he who was superior, not me.
Nature was always on his side in that regard. He had that dark, jock look with his hot masculine grin. I always noticed this deep friendly warmth in the eyes, despite that tough dark look he had that would cause people to respect him on first sight. So he had an easy charm that won everyone over; he never had to compete for the favor of the whole family. He was tall and strong and had one of those builds that looked good whether he was working out or not, because his shoulders were wide, his neck quite long and thick, and his general frame tall, graceful, yet almost gangly in shape with hands and feet that were oversized and well padded. Even his skin was glorious to me, smooth and flawless and always warm with a natural tan.
Well, to cut to the chase, what I told him about the night before was my foot fetish. This was a confession I fantasized about making to him, but I was still stunned that it actually came out of my mouth. Sure, I was living with him (much to his resentment) with the secret reason that I was in love with the guy, but I honestly never thought that kind of honesty would ever come out between us. So now I was horrified with fear about how he’d react, how much worse he might treat me now.
“Don’t worry about it,” he grumbled in response as he walked up to me, for the purpose of likewise getting some coffee for himself. I tried to remember what was said the night before. Despite my drunkenness, I was pretty sure I was only half truthful, the force of habit of keeping my gay foot fetish in the closet all these years anyway, even though I’m sure he silently knows I’m not straight. I didn’t tell him I stared at his feet every chance I got, let alone tell him he was the object of a longtime crush for me. At the time, he had had several beers himself and had been talking about crazy fetishes, including his various fetishes that were part of his attraction to women. My guard had gone down and I had told him I was crazy for feet. I went as far as to say I’d love to just be on the floor getting stepped on and used as a footrest. He laughed at me for it, but I guess at the time I thought it sounded no worse than the kinky stuff he mentioned about himself, although unlike my confessions, his crazy talk could not be mistaken for any interest he might have in me, and secondly, his “confessions” were more in the line of jokes than any revelation of his strongest desires. What he might call a fetish (like a girl in a prep school skirt) was nothing like my level of fetish. So in hindsight, I knew I was the fool, and I feared how he’d react to my company in the future.
“So you want to get stepped on,” he shrugged, with a sleepy man’s giggle. I was cornered in the kitchen, sharing a tight space with him. He looked me in the face with ease; I looked back, trying hard not to tremble visibly, not to let the quick breathing drawn by the closeness of his gorgeous face and body be too obvious, as he stood there, unusually dressed in white shirt, tie, slacks and his old black oxfords. Apparently it was a day for managers’ meetings, and not work out in the yard like usual. “Well, makes no difference to me, dude. Cuz you know what? If you get in my way, I’ll step on ya anyway.” He suddenly placed the palm of his hand over my nose and pressed it, making a “SQUISH!” sound effect with his voice. Then he turned and walked off, laughing with quiet confidence, all of it natural humor to him and nothing else, despite the fact that my dick was about to leap out of my pants from the excitement of his touch, such warm, soft hands for a workman, so big one of them could cover my face entirely, a little after shave scent mixed with his natural scent, a heartless, arrogant SQUISH entirely oblivious to the sensual experience it put me through. “Yeah, get in my way and I’ll step on ya. Nothing for you personally, and nothing against you personally,” he chuckled, facing away from me as he headed out the door.
I’ve had a lot to think about all day, since that frightening and exciting breakfast conversation, all six or seven lines of it. I can’t really trace my thought process between then and now, how I’ve gotten up the nerve to do this. But I’ve already taken the trouble to move the recliner chair, Greg’s favorite, into the den, trading it off with the older chair from the den, which is now here in front of the television. It’s a very comfortable, cushioned chair, but it’s a way too high off the floor. When my uncle had his leg surgery, he had designed the chair for easily getting in and out of the seat despite crutches and leg braces. As a result, a normal guy, even a tall one, finds his feet barely touch the floor, and that’s when sitting on the edge of the seat. And unlike the recliner, there is no footrest on this thing – just four old fashioned wooden legs.
And here I am, lying under this chair on my back, my body between the legs in the space under the chair, a space barely wider than I am, and allowing about a foot and a half vertically. The edge of the seat is just over my waist; the bottom half of my legs stick out the back side of it.
Do I have any excuse at all for being in this position? It’s kind of a lame excuse, I admit. I’ve rolled our uncle’s old typing table nearby. We have this slide-out keyboard tray to install under its surface. Putting the computer station together is something we’ve been meaning to do, so it shouldn’t be too surprising to find me doing it. Screwing the keyboard tray in under the table is something you can only do by lying on your back. Still, I don’t guess we ever planned to set the computer up here so close to the TV, let alone use this weird chair for it (although actually, its height is similar to the old drafting chair this table was probably built to match). So this will look funny when Greg walks in, no matter what. But I can’t think about that. I just have to be here when he walks in, that’s all. No matter how badly this might possibly go (who knows how he’ll react?), I’ve finally realized I have nothing to lose.
I think I hear him at the door. A rattling of keys and locks. A slam. He trudges into my view. So out of place in his office attire, this hunk who usually dresses in work shirt, jeans, and steel toed boots. But damn, he’s breathtaking in this change of pace. There he is with his five o’-clock shadow over his loosened tie and open collar, the crisp glowing white shirt from this morning now wrinkled and a little sweat stained. He pulls his tie down another couple inches, and yanks the tails of his shirt out of his slacks. He stops in his tracks, looking down at me from four or five feet away. He frowns. “What the fuck is this?!”
“The computer,” I answer with faux nonchalance, picking up the screwdriver in order to complete my charade. “Duh!”
He looks around. “Where the hell is the other chair?” He’s noticeably put out. It is his routine to plop down in that chair – right where I’m now lying on the floor – to watch TV for an hour or so as soon as he comes home from work.
“It’s in the den. All this junk fits more easily out here and it’s easy to work around and behind it,” I answer. “Besides, it will be cool to check the Internet and watch TV at the same time.”
“Listen, geek,” he says, taking a couple of steps forward so that he’s almost looking straight down on me. The view is glorious: the tower of his body, narrowing to his muscular neck, the V of his chin, his eyes larger and brighter due to the angle from under his strong brow. I can barely smell the work of the day on him, wafting over me warmly. “I didn’t say I wanted to fuck with a computer in here. This is my TV spot.”
“Too bad,” I say, faking up all the nerve I can muster. “I guess I’ll just be in your way till I’m done here.”
“Oh – ho – ho,” he gruffly laughs back, in that tone of accepting a challenge. “You don’t want to be in my way. Remember what I said this morning?”
Oh my God. He’s lifting a shoe over me.
“I said if you got in my way,” he continues, “I’ll just STEP on ya!” And he raises the shoe close to my head, and as it flies forward I flinch with genuine fear. But with a mere “CRUNCH!” sound effect he makes with his mouth, he ends his fake stomp and steps away, never having touched me at all.
That wasn’t much, but it was kind of cool. Like I said, the view alone was amazing. My heart’s starting to slow down again, but I got erect as soon as he walked away, and that hasn’t changed as I lie here listening to him, wondering what to do next. I can hear him thumping around in the kitchen. I hear the refrigerator door. The pop of a beer being opened. He’s walking back out here. Oh my god, he’s walking back out here. What will happen? If I don’t hold my ground, I’ll never find out.
“Last warning, dude. I’m still gonna watch TV here,” he says as he plods back into the room. “Fuck you, then,” he says as I pretend to continue paying attention to the bottom of the keyboard tray. He steps over me, so that he’s got a foot on either side of my chest (my arms are raised to hold the work I pretend to do under the adjacent table surface) and plops into the chair. “Take away my chair… Serves you right.” Now his feet swing together, heels thudding on my shoulders. I have had one shoulder slightly raised, because the table and keyboard are above me a little to the left, while the chair is actually facing away at almost a 90-degree angle. Suddenly I’m pushed down flat, as Greg’s foot presses my right shoulder down beneath it.
With a gasp it sinks into me – I’m Greg’s footrest. God! I’m actually under his feet!!! The soles are raised near my face and I’m literally inches from them! In front of my eyes are the worn spots on the soles, the vague shapes of the ball of the foot and toes. These are old, cheap shoes he used to wear when he sold retail last year. They stink like hell. He wore them every day I guess, and Greg does sweat a lot. It’s amazing he didn’t throw them out, but I guess he still needs business shoes for rare occasions and doesn’t find a new pair worth such rare use.
“There! How’s that!” he says somewhere up above me, on the other side of those wide size 14s. I don’t know what to say. I weakly answer, “You think you can force me to move?”
He laughs and says, “What for? I need a FOOT rest anyway!” He pronounces the “f” in “foot” heavily, like that sexy bottom lip of his is thrusting out with aggressive masculine play, relishing his new dominance over me. With a chill, I realize this situation suits him perfectly. It’s a fantasy of mine suddenly come true, and then some. It’s scary. He has some idea that I must desire this, but he might not believe this is what I want so much as something I’m stuck with, my lot in life to give in to him and respond to the foot fetish I already confessed to him (even though I never even said I desired male feet, let alone his). Because his true desire is to make me “suffer” a while, teach me a lesson, puff up his ego all the more. So he’s got me where he wants me. What will he do next?
Oh my God, his feet are raking over my face. The corners of the heels jab my cheeks briefly, then the right foot swings over the left, and I realize he’s kicking off his shoes on me. After the right shoe clunks behind my head, the right foot, bulging for air in a clinging wet black sock, toes the heel of the left shoe without missing a beat. In the same instant, I’m slapped hard with the hot steamy cloud of his intense foot odor. As he’s pushing the left shoe off, both feet slide forward, the right toes shoving the heel of the other foot forward, and they’re centered over my face. A half second later – UHHHH!!! – the huge shining black damp ball of the right foot, flexed as the toes slip down the backside of the left shoe heel, slithers right over my mouth and squashes into my nostrils. The left shoe flops sideways off, thunking on my forehead as the bottoms of two nasty black socked feet adjust casually, wiping stinky sweat on my face without any particular aim as they slide to the sides of my head. His toe knuckles crack as he flexes his feet. “AAAAHHH,” breathes Greg. “That feels GOOD.”
Down his feet shove, so that now they are planted on my chest, toes a little over my shoulders. The cloud of leathery sweat stink, mixed with the aged, sour, and almost mildewy smell of the cheap socks and insoles, continues to choke me. If I smelled this odor anywhere else, I might consider it sickening, but here and now it is the ultimate in male musk. I wish the feet were back in my face, but what the hell, I’m at the gates of heaven. I feel his soles firmly on me, and I smell his wiggling toes. I can hardly believe I’m here. But then he leans forward, elbows resting on knees, his all conquering smile aimed down at me. How must I look? What could be more humbling? My face beneath him on the floor, framed entirely around by his stinky socked feet and discarded old shoes. He takes a quick swig of beer, as if to emphasize a little victory over me. “How’s it smell down there buddy?” he says. “Come on, how’s it smell?” He lifts his left foot a little over my face, and lowers curled toes to my nose. He laughs out loud. “Aren’t you going to move or turn away or something?” He relaxes the foot. The warm soft cloth of the ball of the foot spreads over my lips, and the toes touch the tip of my nose, then press in a bit, so that the cloth webbed between the big toe and second toe now plugs my nostrils. “Ha ha, I don’t think you’ll last down there,” he giggles.
“Twy mwee…” I say. I bet I could have said “Try me” more clearly and less in that funny voice you might use if you’re holding your nose, but my instincts told me to make myself more ridiculous for his entertainment.
“Oh, you’re dead, dude,” he laughs again. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re gonna learn not to get in my way.” His toes slide forward, and now the bottom of my nose is pressed to the edge of the foot just at the base of the big toe and second toe. Now he’s flexing and wriggling the toes. New smells come out, like he’s purposely spraying me with them.
My dick is so hard it hurts. My hands are lying beside me; I haven’t moved them since that first shoe shoved my shoulder to the floor. Slowly I untie the cord that holds the elastic of my shorts tight. My erection seems to grow even more to fill the extra space provided by the looseness. I have to avoid touching myself for the moment, I think, but I’m entering such a feverish joy that my dick seems to be moving around by itself without any detectable movement from my hips or anything else. I won’t bother describing this mystery of nature any further. It’s enough to let you know something inside me has gone wild with the hottest sexy thrill I’ve ever felt. Greg is doing this to me. Greg. Untouchably gorgeous Greg, object of all my fantasies. I still can’t believe this is real. Yet, here I “suffer” the kiss of his toes as he sits like a king above me.
Now his feet are back on my chest again. “Can’t let you get too used to the smell. Gonna be here a while,” he says teasingly. He grabs the remote and flips channels, drumming and adjusting his feet, so that I humbly feel my place under his light stomping.
Not a minute goes by before he reaches down and peels off a sock. “AAAHHHH!” he breathes again, exaggerating his pleasure in a way that signals his awareness that I am to be further humiliated, taken down further and further, lower and lower, beneath his male superiority. “Time to let my toes breathe,” he says casually, smirking down at me, as the end of the sock pops off while he holds the sole of the foot in midair above my face. “Prepare for landing,” he giggles, letting the foot down after a moment’s pause, during which I have to disguise my gasp, my trembling appreciation for the perfection of his sole, the generous pink padding all around, the smooth pale field of the arch, the wide manly flat heel, the plump bulging ball with the perfect two wrinkles up the center, the supple toes, dexterous and long, yet thick as most people’s fingers, reaching up to two inches off the end of the foot next to the great toe, so big, wide and cushioned – so ultimately male and dominant. For a split second I have to imagine myself two inches tall, having my whole body squashed flat under just that big toe.
But now – squish! His foot. My face. My god, I’m underfoot. Flat underfoot. The smell is divine, different from the sock, but still pungent. Sweaty, but unique, a little like stinky cheese, and a little like the smell of orange juice after it gets old and acrid. And hot, like the touch of sunburned skin. Yet this is the softest thing ever against my nose. Like velvet. My nose is pressed just where the arch of the foot slopes up into the ball of the foot. I’m in the dark, the wide foot spread over my eyes. But now he’s flexing back his toes, lifting slightly, tapping his foot back down into the center of my face. “Any toe jam down there? Check it out,” he’s saying, stretching and fanning his perfectly formed toes above my eyes. I look through the toes at his smiling face, his melting beauty. The thick pad of the ball of his foot is squished over my nose now. The smell is stronger than a moment ago. The ball of the foot is like a big pillow. Incredible how soft it is. The trunks of the toes are slightly shiny with sweat, with some tiny specks of crud here and there. The balls of the toes, pink and puffy, are emanating heat, like the pads of the foot.
The toes flex backward again, and my nostrils are wiped up the ball of the foot to the undersides of the toes. “My toes itch a little,” my new Master says through a toothy grin, full of false warmth, his eyes glinting with mischief like a little boy who has found an insect with a missing wing. Without hesitation, he mops the trunks of the toes over my nostrils, keeping me in eye contact, killing me with his eye contact. “Ahhh, there,” he says, “yeah, that makes me feel good. Too bad about you… (ha, ha)… but it makes me feel good…” The odor seems as intense as the socks after they were first pulled out of his shoes, but again different, something more sharply natural and male, the powerful scent of his toe jam, the nastiness that never quite leaves his feet even after bathing, as bits of skin continuously shed between the toes like dandruff (or like athlete’s foot, only I don’t think he has that right now) a little more often than the rest of him, and he sweats nonstop, with or without shoes on. Like some guys do, he just has this natural propensity for stinky feet, a fact I’ve noticed many times ago from afar. He continues to wipe toes over my nose, occasionally stopping to rub vigorously where he supposedly has an itch to relieve at my expense, a special insult I can feel him relish through his very skin.
The toes come to a gentle rest over my nose, my nostrils planted at the top of the ball of the foot, just below the second toe. He peels off his other sock, while with a sideways tilt, the first bared foot lifts off of me slightly to make room. As an afterthought, he thuds the first foot into the carpet beside my head. “Time for another grand entrance,” he says, keeping the newly bared foot hovering over my face. Without losing two seconds throughout all of this, he is suddenly standing over me. “SQUISH!” he announces as the foot gently pads onto my face, filling my senses with the strong odor still lingering from the sock, mixed with the natural male foot odor that never leaves Greg’s sole, soft and hot, dominating me, melting me. Quickly the foot has disappeared. He’s turning himself around up there – a flashing view up at his legs and crotch, a foot swinging over me in a blur. Now he’s standing facing away from the TV, toward the chair. And again – moosh! – my face is smothered under the enormous stinky cushion of his sole. This time, his toes face down around my mouth and chin, the ball of the foot rides back against my nostrils, my eyes are under the arch of the foot, and his heel hovers somewhere above my forehead. “There, dude!” he sneers. “You’re being STEPPED on now,” he says, twisting the foot, so that my nose is squashed in different directions in the deep, generous, giving and warm thickness of his sole padding, with each sniff for air smelling some new nuance of the foot odor he is so anxious to punish me with, as if he is the winner of a bet and I, the loser, have to go through with this whether I want to or not.
“Unnnhhh,” he says with mock sympathy as he smears his foot back, wiping my nostrils through the ball of the foot to the toes, then giving another twist. This new point of view is twice as hot as the first one. “You’re my doormat,” he adds with a laugh. He is indeed using me as a doormat now, wiping backward up my face, intermittently twisting the foot as if to squash out a cigarette. “Eeww,” he adds with a scrunched up grin, pausing for his toes to linger over my nostrils, playing with them, patting them, making me live through more smells, more humiliations, more experiences that will never ever leave my mind, before repeating the more rough and masculine punishment of pressing the foot indiscriminately down over my face and taking another long cruel wipe over it.
He ends the next wipe with a firm wipe forward, his heel thudding over my nose carelessly. That hurt a little. A moment later – OOF! – I involuntarily cry out as he steps full weight on my chest. He laughs. “Wuss,” he says, completing the step forward by planting the other foot on my face, still facing away from me, so that the heel is high in my face, hurting my brow, and my nose and mouth are lost in the broad soft skin of the arch. He rubs the foot backward, so that the heel rises over my forehead as the ball of the foot buries my nose, followed by splayed toes mopping my nostrils without a care as the foot lifts. Thud! – OOF! – he puts that foot down on my chest and wipes the other one back against my face in the same manner. “Hey, I like this,” he says, turning back to grin down meanly at me, stopping to twist the foot into my face to accentuate his point. With a little growl, he underlines his point by lifting the foot slightly and squashing it back down on my face again – “RRRR! RRRR! There!” – sounding more and more satisfied the more he subjects my face to the bottom of his foot. This is hurting my chest, but this sensation of being trampled under Greg, to be entirely beneath his feet, is so incredible I have to appreciate it. SMEAR – there goes the bottom of his smelly foot across my face again – SMEAR – more toes rubbed across my nostrils. My God. OW! OW! He’s treading on me confidently, turning around again, sitting back down in the chair above me. The weight comes off, and I am back beneath feet, toes up again like before, eagerly encroaching upon my nose like they hunger to dominate me.
“That was fun,” Greg chuckles, now seeming to ignore me personally. His feet lightly tap my face, as if drumming to music, and he leans back. He messes with the remote control. With a sigh, he slumps a little further, pressing the ball of the left foot to my face. With another sigh, he crosses the right foot over the left, a comfortable resting position, my face squished under the huge, smelly crossed bare feet of an Adonis. Occasionally, he twitches the feet, causing the ball of the foot and the base of the toes to stroke my nostrils as the top foot stretches and wiggles its toes, but otherwise, I’m stuck here calmly marveling at my luck. Once, he switches feet, stomping me carelessly in the process, now with the ball and toes of the right foot mooshed to my nose and mouth as the left foot rises above it. I wait.
Despite me wearing these baggy casual shorts on purpose, my dick is so hard it hurts, it presses in its confinement. But my heartbeat calms a little. Is it possible I could get used to a thing like this??
As if to answer me, Greg leans forward and finally looks down on me again. “Fuck! You weren’t supposed to take it this long, dude.” He looks at me quizzically. He rests his feet on my chest again, drumming them, tap tap tap. He clenches his toes into the skin of my shoulders, through the flimsy cloth of my T-shirt. Greg stretches and pulls off his shirt and undershirt, displaying his bare, tan, muscular torso. “Don’t get comfortable, man. You don’t get off that easy,” he says at the same time. My heartbeat has risen again. “If you’re going to be underfoot, you have to be some use to me,” Greg adds. “How about a foot massage… faggot.” He leans back in the chair, out of view except for his legs and those big cocky feet, now reaching forward again to fill my face, side by side. “Now!” he adds, as both feet thud lightly against my face.
Something in me keeps me from responding in any way... Am I genuinely offended by the name calling? Or do I actually think I’ll get any more out of this?
He leans forward again, forearms resting on his knees, feet planted on my chest, looking down on me, a little threateningly. “Won’t do what you’re told? Well, I think I can make you…” He lifts a foot and picks up one of his nasty socks with his toes. Plunk! He drops it over my nose. I am shocked again with the bad smell. Somehow it seems worse than it did earlier, when it was more damp and warm. Its smell is more settled and dank. His foot comes down again. He’s laughing as I make gagging sounds. Here his sock is bunched up over my nose and mouth, and his foot is pressing to my face, playfully rubbing the sock underfoot, and into my face at the same time. I can’t help myself as I moan. “Oooohhh… uhhhhh…” It’s a moan of delight, but I guess it sounds the same as suffering to him, due to the context. This fires him up. He giggles more. The other sock is now on my face. And now both soles. Playing, playing with my face. Moosh, moosh, wipe, wipe, rub, stomp… The dark pungent nasty socks rolling and wiping over my nose, sometimes on my eyes, sometimes off, sometimes up my nostrils, sometimes free, while at the same time the huge soft soles of Greg’s feet press and dance on my face, sometimes filling my sight with the wide pink balls of feet, sometimes rows of toes, sometimes flexed, sometimes curled, sometimes just resting so that I have to gasp again in admiration of their perfect form. It is relentless now, he won’t allow me to get used to anything. I am rubbed, stomped, sniffing sock, sniffing toe, lips spread open against rank sock cloth, then against a great big toe, nothing but the bottoms of feet filling my view, toes, heels, arches, new smell after new smell, the satisfied chuckle of a gorgeous stud, barely visible between feet at certain intervals, knowing that he is winning the contest. My moans are uncontrollable now. My hands are on my crotch. My shorts have come down and my penis is thrusting against my palms. “RRRRR” he playfully growls as he twists the ball and toes of a foot over the well-aimed toe end of one of his socks now presses to one of my nostrils, and I can hear the chair skid backward slightly on the floor. To my shock, his other foot is pressed to my cock. Sinking hard, painfully. AAAAAHHH! Now there is less weight; Greg has adjusted at the edge of his seat for the moment. I am exposed under him, completely humiliated, but near tears as his toes dance over my face, wiggling away, the ball of his foot twisting rank sock smell into me, as another foot suddenly rubs over my balls and cock, back and forth, back and forth, as my mouth opens to the salty flavor of the bottom of his foot. I am hot, about to explode in a thousand fiery sparks and then – I EXPLODE, I explode, I take off like a rocket – seeing stars, and too deaf to hear my own wailing cries.
I think I passed out. But now here I am, stunned to find myself on the floor here where I began the evening, as if waking from a dream. “You still owe me a foot massage. Now I think I know how to make you do it,” says Greg’s calm voice above. He sits back down in the chair, crossing his feet nonchalantly on my chest. As I dully stare at the beautiful bottoms of his feet crossed in front of me, he continues. “Just wait till tomorrow night.” Filled with dumbfounded appreciation, I reach for his feet and start to massage them by hand. “Nah,” he says, kicking my hands away. “Just wait till tomorrow night…”
Reply posted by: Justin Buster On: Jan-01-1970 12:00am UTC
I'd lick the sand off his feet any day! Post Reply
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Favorite Model?
Posted by: Chris
On: Jun-02-2015 11:08am UTC Read This Message
Who is your favorite model and why? APOLLO drives me nuts because he reminds me of the jocks in school who would tease me for being gay.
Reply posted by: Jim On: Jan-01-1970 12:00am UTC
My favorite model is Taylor. I have a lot of his videos already and just love seeing his big size 13 feet, his toes wiggling and when he tramples. My five favorite videos on the website are 1724, 1684, 1860, 1703 and 2117 if you would like to check some out.
Reply posted by: rodd On: Jan-01-1970 12:00am UTC
Rodd is my favorite, i have been worshiping him for many years, tho not met him, he reminds me of my dad, also he is clearly a naturally dominant boss, i also love him because he looks like a real guy, not a model, and because he is older and authoritative
Reply posted by: BB On: Jan-01-1970 12:00am UTC
Jake is definitely my favorite. So big, so tall, so manly and love him yelling in his authoritative voice and his dominant laugh.
Reply posted by: sheerhound On: Jul-10-2015 12:00am UTC
Morgan is the one who I never get enough of. Insanely erotic, sadistic, verbal and those size 15's help as well, LOL. I contacted Doug as I wanted to correspond with him but he said he hasn't been in contact with Morgan for a few months now. Shame, as I would love to tell him how obsessed I am with him and his feet. 
Reply posted by: footfag On: Jul-20-2015 12:00am UTC
DIRK ... is by far the BEST!!!!
Reply posted by: JRBoy333 On: Dec-29-2016 12:00am UTC
WAY too many hot str8's on this site to have just ONE fave (plus, haven't seen 'em all in action), so I have 4: GRAHAM, BURKE, DIRK & KORIE. Every last one of them is the kind of tough guy who would've bullied me in hs, their rough talk, farting, drinking, and cocky attitudes are hot as hell, and their feet look like they smell and taste perfect. All four also excel in the spitting contests, nice, harked up loogies and the more str8 spit, the better, till its dripping off my face and chin. TMI, I know, but damn, their true foot gods. Sigh.
Reply posted by: bb On: Apr-16-2021 12:00am UTC
need to agree with JRBoy333 this site has hot models galore and I have not seen them all in action yet: but so far my top 4 would have to be 1) Travis 2) Danny 3) Ethan 4) Denton Post Reply
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Does anyone know who this HOT Guy is?
Posted by: Moonglow
On: May-30-2015 5:53pm UTC Read This Message
I would like to find the photographer or the model. Can you help?
Reply posted by: Jim On: Jan-01-1970 12:00am UTC
My favorite model is Taylor. I have a lot of his videos already and just love seeing his big size 13 feet, his toes wiggling and when he tramples. My five favorite videos on the website are 1724, 1684, 1860, 1703 and 2117 if you would like to check some out.
Reply posted by: rodd On: Jan-01-1970 12:00am UTC
Rodd is my favorite, i have been worshiping him for many years, tho not met him, he reminds me of my dad, also he is clearly a naturally dominant boss, i also love him because he looks like a real guy, not a model, and because he is older and authoritative
Reply posted by: BB On: Jan-01-1970 12:00am UTC
Jake is definitely my favorite. So big, so tall, so manly and love him yelling in his authoritative voice and his dominant laugh.
Reply posted by: sheerhound On: Jul-10-2015 12:00am UTC
Morgan is the one who I never get enough of. Insanely erotic, sadistic, verbal and those size 15's help as well, LOL. I contacted Doug as I wanted to correspond with him but he said he hasn't been in contact with Morgan for a few months now. Shame, as I would love to tell him how obsessed I am with him and his feet.
Reply posted by: footfag On: Jul-20-2015 12:00am UTC
DIRK ... is by far the BEST!!!!
Reply posted by: JRBoy333 On: Dec-29-2016 12:00am UTC
WAY too many hot str8's on this site to have just ONE fave (plus, haven't seen 'em all in action), so I have 4: GRAHAM, BURKE, DIRK & KORIE. Every last one of them is the kind of tough guy who would've bullied me in hs, their rough talk, farting, drinking, and cocky attitudes are hot as hell, and their feet look like they smell and taste perfect. All four also excel in the spitting contests, nice, harked up loogies and the more str8 spit, the better, till its dripping off my face and chin. TMI, I know, but damn, their true foot gods. Sigh.
Reply posted by: bb On: Apr-16-2021 12:00am UTC
need to agree with JRBoy333 this site has hot models galore and I have not seen them all in action yet: but so far my top 4 would have to be 1) Travis 2) Danny 3) Ethan 4) Denton Post Reply
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Boots
Posted by: Justin Buster
On: May-30-2015 12:55pm UTC Read This Message
Have you ever asked yourself why? I do all the time. I've always been attracted to men's feet and shoes. Boots are an added pleasure. Would love to be "taken" and forced to worship a guys boots, be made a boot and shoe slave. Have any of you had the same "dream"?
Reply posted by: lewis On: Jul-17-2015 12:00am UTC
yes. I have been trying to find someone in my area into it. http://augusta.craigslist.org/cas/5100742614.html Post Reply
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Gym Class
Posted by: Moonglow
On: May-29-2015 8:40pm UTC Read This Message
I often wonder how many guys are into this scene stronger from being dominated in gym class?
If you are interested, I have stories to tell!
Reply posted by: lewis On: Jul-17-2015 12:00am UTC
yes. I have been trying to find someone in my area into it. http://augusta.craigslist.org/cas/5100742614.html Post Reply
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