It was a really hot summer day. The sun beat down as hard as it could, so me and my best friend hung out inside his nice air conditioned bedroom. My name’s Blake, and I’m a nineteen year old high school graduate. Having not gone to college yet, I was able to spend a lot of my time going to friends’ houses. Trevor, my eighteen year old best buddy, is one of those friends. The two of us have known each other since I was seven and he was six, and we have been inseparable ever since. One of his earliest memories was rushing to the master bedroom when his dad came home from work so he could sneak a peek at his dad's feet. The sound of the door opening and his dad's footsteps across the floor sent a bell ringing in his sexual mind and he rushed to take a position under the bed.

I largely interact with foot fetishism as a form of body worship," they told me. "I enjoy looking down and watching them open up their mouths as they swallow, or try to swallow, more and more of my foot. It clearly becomes a phallic object at that moment." He kept tapping my cheek with his toes. Pressed his big toe against my lips. Then he put them over my nose and squeezed. The smell was pretty rancid 😆 Like he actually squeezed my toe, forcing me to smell. I was extremely hard by this point.

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Open wiiiiiiiide,” Trevor sang, pressing his toes harder against my lips and squeezing tighter on my nose. “Say ahhhhhhhhhh!” Robert grew up in a religion that taught strict self-control and self-mastery. Some of its teachings included strict prohibition from masturbation and no sex outside of (hetero) marriage. Robert began to eroticize chastity and the denial of sexual pleasure from a young age. He felt incredibly guilty about his constant need to jerk off and he felt especially bad that his thoughts were about men and their feet. It was one thing to wank to the thoughts of women who he could seek out for marriage, but another story to fantasize about something that was completely forbidden and could never be accepted within the realms of his faith. Oh, GOD, your shoe reeks!” I grabbed his arm with both hands, but was unable to push his shoe off of my poor, helpless little nose. I had no choice but to inhale deeply. It was either that, or stop breathing entirely and suffocate. And I prefered smelling his putrid shoes over dying, any day.

Hey bro, I don’t judge. If you want to smell them smell away, but I’ve got a better if you want to hear it” he said One night, when he was eighteen, Robert's mum was away at a conference and he was left alone with Dad in the house. Dad had fallen asleep, stomach first, his entire body under one thin bedsheet. His hormones were in overdrive that night and he dared himself to do the most forbidden thing of all - get intimate with the feet of his maker. The door to the master bedroom was open that warm night and he could hear the soft snoring of his father. He was presented with the most thrilling sight of all. His dad's foot hung off the edge of the bed, pressing tightly against the thin white bedsheet that kept the feet prisoner. Robert had his first kiss with another man when he was nineteen when he managed to move to a large city. His first true kiss, Robert is proud to note, was when he managed to kiss another man's foot, some years earlier. He began to salivate and moved his head in again, slightly more confident after not hearing any change in his dad's snoring. He placed the tip of his wet tongue on what he imagined to be the least sensitive part of his dad's lower soles. He kept it there for a few seconds, allowing the sensation of beautiful sin to overload his brain. He moved his tongue barely a millimeter across the soles and pulled it away. It was important for him to know that he had actually moved his tongue across part of his prize. Somehow that was more intimate and arousing. At that very moment, Robert's mum passed by the bathroom doorway, and exclaimed in amazement, as she saw the very obvious sign of arousal in her son.

My hands trembled as I wrapped my fingers around the heel of his left shoe, grabbing it and slipping it off of his foot. The stench hit me immediately. I could feel my gag reflex start to act up. Out of pure instinct I dropped his shoe and went to cover my nose. Trevor saw what I was doing, yanked off his right shoe, grabbed my head with one hand, and with the other he held his shoe over my nose. It's healthy to release your sexual tensions," his mum explained. "Keep at it and don't stop until you're satisfied."