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A True First Foot Encounter

Category: Fetish
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This is the story of my first foot fetish experience, I hold nothing back and will try and embellish nothing. First a very little background, I am 21 years old, and a lover of female feet. I have been seeing the girl in the story, Christine, for about 2 years on and off. We shared everything. First as friends, then transcending that line and into our sexual desires. Before this we had not made love, our kisses and caresses were the slow, careful ones of a couple physically new to each other.

She had known about my love of her feet for some time, but I sometimes felt like she didn’t understand my infatuation with them. Up until this point, she had allowed me to massage her feet at every opportunity, enjoying my natural skill this, but I had not seen anyway to expand her horizons on the subject without looking strange to her.

Toe sucking and footjobs I felt, while still a part of my fetish, seemed a little extreme to slip in during a massage. Not that I didn’t think about it, her feet are exquisite, and never in the five years I have know about my fetish have I seen a pair anything like them. They are size 9s, but very narrow, with a short big toe, and an extremely long second and third toe. Then they fall sharply to her smallest, which is barely a quarter of an inch long. Her friends would tease her about them, saying her toes looked like fingers, and how strange they looked. Although this would bother her, Christine would simply say that I liked them just fine and her friends would laugh. Well, fuck them.

Anyway, I had just returned from Wisconsin after a week, by a long car trip, and was dismayed to realize that she was going to be gone for a week when she met her friends at the beach, not two days later. So we agreed to get together the night after I got back, the day before she left. Well, I called Christine after work and learned that she was at her next door neighbor’s house getting her nails done. This was both a cause for excitement, and dismay. Excitement; Because doing her nails meant she might have changed the polish on her sexy toes, but dismay because her friend was a bit clingy, and would hamper my efforts to get close to Christine.

En route to her home, I learned that we would be going to dinner, WITH the friend, but that we would be dropping said friend off after, giving me plenty of time to spend rubbing my love’s feet and talking about our days, or anything that interested us. When I arrived, I found them on the porch, finishing the second coat of purple polish on Christine’s fingers, but, to my surprise, she had removed her pedicure and left her toes bare. Now don’t get me wrong, I love bare toes just as much as the next guy, but, she had already had on a sexy blue polish that I had said I’d liked. Her friend always did Christine’s toes, she hated to do them. So a little disappointed, I asked innocently, as not to arouse suspicion in her unenlightened friend,

“I like your fingers, but why didn’t you have her do your toes to match?”

Christine smiled like the little minx she is, but before she could answer her friend shot back,

“I don’t know why she didn’t,” The friend jeered, “She said she wanted you to do it.”

I caught my jaw just before it dropped straight to the floor, and swallowed. Christine, seeing my reaction asked coyly,

“You don’t mind do you?” She cooed, “I love it when you play with my feet.”

Fuck no I didn’t mind! But I felt very slightly embarrassed, because her friend was looking at me expectantly. I played it cool,

“Sure thing honey, anytime, really, anytime.” I stammered. Okay not so cool.

They still needed to put the clear coat on Christine’s fingers, so her friend asked,

“Are they dry yet?”

Shifting her eyes away from mine for the first time in a minute, Christine replied,

“I don’t know let me check,” And stuck her finger in her mouth.

Dumbstruck, I started with my smart ass comments,

“Ya know,” I dead panned, “That stuff is toxic, DO NOT EAT.”

Removing her finger from her mouth, Christine and her friend both looked at me like I had a third arm growing out of my ass. One after another they knocked me down a peg,

“No, its not,” Christine said slightly condescending, “If its wet it tastes sour.”

“Yeah,” Her friend chimed, “That’s how you check it.”

So I relented and we talked some while Christine finished her nails. About this and that, where we were going to dinner. After about ten minuets, we left to get to food, which sucked, and stopped by the local mall so Christine could pick something up from her work. At this point the friend latches onto us, how and why I won’t go into but she does, and we are both pissed. So I decide to torture the friend, who happens to have a huge crush on me, by starting to tease her about her sex life. Asking all sorts of things I would never ask in polite conversation, and soon Christine joins in. Anyway, the THREE of us go back to my house to hang around, and at this point I’ve totally forgotten the whole pedicure thing. But when we get there, I learn that Christine has not. After we have settled down, Christine and her friend on the couch, and me in an armchair pulled up beside it, she says the eight words I will remember for the rest of my life,

“Do you want to paint my toes now?”

I hold my breath and look to her to see if she’s serious, and her bright blue eyes are staring right back into mine, with that glint of sexual mischief I know so well. Her friend on the couch is totally oblivious, but Christine knows the score, RUBBING her feet alone is a purely sexual exercise for me, let alone painting her toenails for the very first time, and she wants me to do it. Now. In front of her friend. I swear my penis stirred in my pants so fast, I thought I had sprained it.

“Umm..Yeah, sure, if you want.” I say, ever the smoothy. Damn, writing this, I wonder how I could’ve ever gotten my fetish fulfilled if she hadn’t started it.

She handed me the clear coat and the polish, a deep metallic purple, and gives me rudimentary instructions,

“Put the clear coat on first, let it dry, then put the polish on, let that dry, do a second coat, then cover it with the clear coat again. Basically you do everything twice.”

Hmm…sure, everything twice. Shit, I’d be surprised if I didn’t do everything once, fuck it up and she’d tell me she’d do it herself later, forever cutting me off from the toe painting. So she rested her right foot on the top of my left thigh, and her left foot on top of my right, and I prepared to do what perhaps was the most erotic thing in my young life. I start off by trying to find a place to hold the bottle of sealer, moving it around to look for a comfortable spot to keep going back to it. And she once again coyly spoke,

“I can hold it between my toes, you know,” A smile across her face. My cock is getting so damn hard I fear that it can be seen by low flying space shuttles.

The clear coat goes on fine, but I find myself getting disappointed with the first coat of purple. It looks pale and sloppy to me, but this was before I knew that the first coat looks like shit, no matter what. So I finish the first coat and begin blowing on her toes to help dry them. After about a full minuet of this, I ask,

“Are they dry yet?” Looking at Christine.

Her friend starts,

“Let me see her foo-”

But she is cut off by an action that shocks us both and makes me think for the first time in a long string of thoughts that I’m going to cum right now. Christine had pulled her right foot up and away from my thigh, and put her big toe in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it, all the while keeping eye contact with me, then withdraws it and redeposits it on my thigh, saying,

“Tastes sour to me,” Her smile is so bright I can barely see, “What do you think?”

Oh my fucking god, I think, this has got to be a dream. So I slowly lift Christine’s foot towards my mouth, her friend’s eyes locked on me, and I roll my tongue over my first toe. It was everything I imagined. The soft firmness of the pad of her foot, the smooth roundness of her nail, with the slightly sour taste of the polish. I was in total bliss. No pun intended. But I didn’t stop there, with both of them watching me, I licked and sucked every toe on Christine’s foot, not stopping too long to savor them, because I’m painfully aware of two things. My throbbing erection, that although is rock hard, has yet to achieve its full size, and the friend, pretending not to stare at me, sucking on Christine’s toes, to check and see if they were “dry” yet. I’m so turned on that I can barely see straight, and honestly, I’m not sure if I finished the clear coat on her left foot, but she took a break to smoke and I lost track.

While holding open the screen door to my deck, Christine motioned for me to follow. Excusing myself from the friend, I follow her. Pulling the inner door closed behind me, I turn back out towards the deck. She was there, moving to embrace me, her lips covering mine, with not so much as a hint of our customary hesitation, her tongue slipping past my lips. I respond by pressing my own tongue back, swirling it gently, then with more force, then back to gently, and wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her tight against me. My kisses moved away from her mouth, planting first on her cheek, then at the base of her jaw line, pausing at her earlobe with the tiniest flick of my tongue, and at last slowly down her neck. Her head tilted to the side then pulled up towards the stars, as my lips traversed her face, a slight moan escaped her. As I was lingering on Christine’s neck, adding the slightest nibble to my lips’ caress, she raised her knee gently, feeling the erection straining against my jeans,

“Emmmm…” She purred, “Do you like painting my toes?”

From the tone of her voice I knew the game we’d fallen into, so I responded with the proper title,

“Yes, Mistress,” I breathed against her neck

Stepping back from our embrace, she looked up into my eyes, her smile still wide,

“Good, I’d hoped you would.”

She turned for a second, then sat on one of my patio chairs, and removed a cigarette from the pack of Marlboro lights. Placing it between her pert lips, she lit it, inhaling deeply. Christine crossed her legs, and I took a seat on the deck, directly in front of her. Reaching out, I began to massage her foot, working the ball, and joints of the toes, rubbing between them, feeling the slight dampness that I knew came from my own saliva.

“Are they dry yet?” Christine asked.

I smiled broadly, feeling the head of my penis begin to drip the slick fluid of pre-cum into my boxer-briefs. Bending my head slightly, I raised her toes to my mouth for the second time tonight. This time I was completely beyond caring about her friend sitting in my living room, not four feet away, behind my front door. Starting with the big one, I licked under their pads, covering from the ball to the tip in a slow single stroke of my tongue. Then I took each toe into my mouth, rolling them from the nail to the pad, in lazy circles, sucking gently, biting softly. After I had licked each toe, I had turned my gaze upwards meeting her eyes, so that I could watch her face when I sucked them. I was not disappointed. Christine’s mouth hung very slightly open, the pink tip of her talented tongue sticking out between her teeth. Her fingers bringing her Marlboro to smoke every once in a while. Mostly she watched me. Moving away from her toes, I let my lips roamed over the top of Christine’s foot, pausing at the ankle to uncross her legs, holding one of her feet in each of my hands. I kissed each ankle, then ran my tongue up her shin and calf a short way, then reverted to kissing. Moving my kisses up her calves, to her thighs, I could smell her. A lovely scent, a sweet musk, coming from her loins. I kissed between her legs, moving my nose against her clit through the denim of her short shorts. This was when she flicked her Cigarette away, then closed her legs by moving one over my head, and stood.

Slightly dejected, I stood, stared into her eyes and said earnestly,

“You turn me on more than any woman I have ever met.” I knew it sounded like a line, a cheap one at that, but it was the truth. You only had to look the crotch of my jeans, to see that. It bulged with the pressure of my hard on, and a tiny wet spot showed where my pre cum had soaked through. A gentle kiss and a smile on her face, she walked back inside.

When we came back in, its time for lights out and a movie. What type of movie I will not discuss, suffice to say that her friend had never seen one, and Christine loved to watch them for the positions. Anyway, we resumed our places, but Christine had decided to pull back her left foot and keep only her right on my thigh. With no excuse to suck on her toes anymore, and her friend sitting within viewing distance, I was going to be content to massage her feet like always, but she beat me to the punch, or should I say kick?

As soon as the lights were out, I felt her foot shift, her toes spread, and then closed them, and presto! She had moved her foot about 3 inches up my thigh. Once again, I couldn’t believe I didn’t cum right then, but somehow I didn’t. She didn’t move that foot again for about two minuets, and it took her another 2 to finally touch the head of my dick. For any of you that haven’t had this pleasure, it is simply infuckingcredable. The weight of Christine’s toes on my shaft was almost more than I could bear. My underwear was already soaked in my precum, but when her foot pressed my penis against my thigh, a long string of it flowed from me, not an ejaculation, but it soaked completely though my jeans now. Her foot sat there for what seemed like ages. I was in total agony. I could either stare at her clueless friend, stare at the sex scenes on the TV, look at the side of Christine’s face, or stare down at her beatuiful toes, painted freshly purple, BY ME, resting inactively on my cock. Then it happened.

I was staring off in space trying to absorb every moment of this paradise, and then I was jolted, like a battery had been attatched to my balls, and I realized, she had just stroked my cock with her foot. I pulled my hips back and let out a very little moan, which drew both of their attention. Her friend just stared, but Christine shot me a smile, and flicked her toes again. This time, I controled the moan, but not the involentary thrust that came with it. Turning her attention back to the TV, Christine slowly moved her toes up my shaft, then down again, my hips thrusting slightly at each stroke. I was in the most intense sexual fever of my young life, desperately afraid I would cum. I knew it would be big, and extremely powerful. Powerful enough to cry out, powerful enough to make me shudder uncontrollably. As scared as I was, I concentrated on the sensation, feeling the electricity of the first unexpected moments fade.

I regained control of myself, like I always had. I wouldn’t cum, not yet. In fact I couldn’t, I was too turned on. I know that may sound strange, but it’s the only way to explain it. There was so much pre-cum in my boxers, that I didn’t know if I had anymore to ejaculate. I was still hard as stone, and in agonizing pleasure, but I knew my orgasm was no where in sight. The highly erotic tingle lived at the base of my penis, giving me pleasure so intense it seemed painful. Then she stopped. Just stopped, and I gasped slightly again, drawing no notice from the friend, but a glance from Christine. The lack of stimulation was almost as intense as the presence of it. I was left grinding my hips unconsciously against the sole of her foot. For what seemed like hours, I kept my eyes away from my lap, trying to keep cool, preventing Christine’s friend from glancing over and seeing me staring at her foot caressing my hard on. But the weight of her toes on the throbbing head of my cock, the memory of the smell of her pussy, left me in indescribable pleasure. After a few minuets pasted, I felt her toes move once again, this time they curled like a fist, raking me with the tips and the faint edges of her toe nails. I got my fist to my mouth in time to stifle the groan, but I could only clench my eyes closed as every muscle in my body squeezed taunt. Unclenching her toes, she clenched them again, harder, causing a little pain to shoot through my body, but this was only secondary. I dropped my gaze to her foot, her toes were shining in the flickering glare of the television screen, slick with my juices, a string of it clung between her big and second toes, a white frothy web of my pre cum.

Her friend then announced,

“I have to go to the bathroom, where is it?”

I bearly heard her, but I looked up from my crotch just as Christine started to stroke me again.

“Straight through that door, past the kitchen, next to my bedroom, second door on the left.” My voice was weak and stressed. She stood and walked right past us, not even glancing down at us. As soon as the door had closed Christine spoke,

“Open your pants.”

I couldn’t believe what she had just said, I only stared at her. She clenched her toes, hard, causing a bolt of paint to shoot through me as her toe nails dug into my shaft, also pulling on some of my pubic hair.

“I said, open your pants. Now”

Quicker to respond this time, I clutched at my zipper, and said,

“Yes Mistress.”

In a second my penis stood fully exposed, sticking straight up into the air, my pre-cum had glazed so that it shined in the half-light from the TV. Christine wrapped both feet around my cock now, pumping up and down quickly,

“You like this?” She asked, taunting me, “Skin to skin feels so much better, don’t you think?”

I did; The feeling was twice as intense, and unlike before, I couldn’t contain my moans or orgasm, which was rapidly approaching. She moved her purple toes, even slicker than before, up and down my dick, bringing me ever closer to my end. It had been what seemed like hours, but what couldn’t have been more than fifteen minuets. I kept fearing her friend would come back from the bathroom, she should have been back by now, so every second was pushing it. Stopping her full strokes, Christine grasped me between her big and second toe, her left foot at the base of my shaft, the right at the head.

“I asked you a question, do you like my toes stoking you, without those horrible jeans in the way? Does the skin of my feet feel better on the skin of your cock?” She was massaging the underside of my over swollen head with her big toe, left to right, and the sensation was such that I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

“Yes Mistress, I love this,” I stammered, “What about-”

She cut me off by stoking hard with her right foot, making me cum. However, her left foot still clamped firmly on the base of my penis, preventing me from ejaculating. There was a unbelievable burning feeling in my cock, as it spasmed, but shot nothing.

“Please,” I said through my clenched teeth, “Oh please Mistress, stop.”

She continued to stroke me, it was like being stimulated after cumming, when I was at my most sensitive.

“Oh, you want me to let go? Beg me. Beg more, beg me to cum.”

I felt tears in my eyes from the denied release,

“Please, oh god, please Mistress let me cum, god please!.” I didn’t care how loud I was. She pushed the toes of her right foot up so that they covered my head, and released the pressure on my shaft, slowly stroking it with that foot. I exploded, my cum sprayed through the cracks between her toes with such force, I heard it. Like the sound of a squirt gun being shot close to my ear. A white jet rose about a foot into the air, arching down just as my second burst came up, bathing Christine’s soles. My hands dug into the arms rests as my third jolt of semen erupted, it lacked the strength of the other two, so it only squished through her toes, welling up in a hot white pool. Christine continued to pump up and down, milking every last drop from my balls.

I heard the click of the door knob to my living room. Her friend was back from the bathroom. My body stiffened, I had my penis out, and my cum was completely covering Christine’s feet. In fact, Some of it had landed on her shin, and was slowly running down her calf. I held my breath, embarrassed beyond belief. Christine covered my cock with her size 9’s, hiding it beneath them, and her friend walked past and glanced down.

“What the hell is that?” She asked, pointing to her jizz soaked feet.

I looked down into my lap, and saw that they weren’t only soaked, but covered with my seed. It was glazed over the top of her foot from the tips of the purple toes to the joint of her ankle. It settled in white pools in her nail beds, leaving very little of the purple polish showing.

“That’s a new massage lotion we’re using. Right?” Christine said looking to me with that sly smile.

“Yeah,” I said, looking up at her friend, “New stuff, I spilled it by accident.”

Her friend looked skeptical, then Christine added,

“Come on, you spilled it on purpose.”

Her friend turned away, and I quickly grabbed my semi-erect penis and shoved it into my pants.

Christine lifted her foot, and examined her toes, my semen rolled back towards her calf, running off and dripping onto my couch,

“You know, I don’t think this color looks like I thought it would. I guess I’ll have to take it off and have you pick a new color to put on after I get back.” She flicked a little of my cum off her foot and it sprayed onto my shirt. I stared at her in awe.

“You better get to rubbing this in,” She said, spreading her toes so that I could see the strings of my now cooling jizzum between them, “It’s making a mess.”

My answer was two words, filled with a longing and excitement for our meeting next week,

“Yes Mistress.”

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