feetfetish
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- Jan 11, 2008
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This is a remake of the original.
I was sitting in my chair in band on the last day of the 11th grade. I saw the girl of my dreams talking to her friends and laughing. It was an amazing sight. She was so beautiful at that scene. We were friends, but very distant. I never asked her out, because I was afraid to.
She was an amazing sight. She had blond hair, she was tall, she had ocean blue eyes, and always wore awe-looking clothes. I had always liked her since the 6th grade, and now 5 years later, I still do. One thing I liked about her was her footwear. I always loved to see her feet. Some days she wore husky boots, and some days she wore flip-flops, either way were beautiful.
I never told anyone that I had a foot fetish. Seemed to odd of something to say to anyone. I was scared if I told anyone, that they would think I was weird or something. I wanted to tell her, but I thought she was too much of a secret-let-outter than someone to keep one. So I didn't tell her.
But it slipped out.
NEXT SCHOOL YEAR (12th grade)
It was early-August. School had started back, and things felt better. Then I heard her familiar flip-flops. FLIP FLOP FLIP FLOP. She pulled out two chairs behind me and sat in one, and propped her feet on the other. Her legs were right beside me. One flip-flop was cracked, and her soles were visible.
Occasionally I glanced at her feet, then looked right back at the teacher, but sometimes I couldn't help myself. Every once in a while I thought to myself to talk to her, but it slipped my mind. Then it just came. I had to say something, just something.
I looked back at her and stuttered "Nice... sandals." Why did I have to say that? Seems very odd that I NOW mention to say anything about it, and the fact that I was even looking at them. Maybe she wouldn't notice the oddness of the situation.
"Thank-you" she said, but the tone didn't sound like she was complimented.
Then about five minutes later, I noticed that she was actually moving her feet around in the chair, waving them back and forth repeatedly. Then eventually one slipped off and landed on the ground. FLOPPP
It just happened, I got out of my seat and picked up the flip-flop off the ground and handed it to her, but her bare foot right in my face. I stared. It was so beautiful of a structure. Her toes were crunched. She painted her toenails red and her size 13 foot was right in my vision. It was just so beautiful to me.
Then a second later I got back into my seat. I started to worry that she figured it out. She now knows it... I was positive.
"Class dismissed" the band teacher said.
I headed out of the room slowly. Then when I got right out, she appeared. She asked me, "I saw you looking at my feet in class, and when you got my flip-flop, I saw you looking at my foot... do you like my feet?" She looked a little dumbfounded, and I looked a little scared.
I just stared and hung my head. Lying would be bad for about anything. So I just waited for her to respond, any denial wouldn't matter. In fact, I did get to see her bare foot, so I guess it would be fine if she rejected me anyways.
She smiled. Odd. She walked away, and I was stunned. It was totally opposite from my expectations... what the?
It was late at night, I was just about to get into my bed, when my cell phone rang. I looked at the Caller ID. It was her.
"Hello?" I inquired into the speaker. I was kind of nervous.
She asked me something I have never heard ANYONE say before, "Hey, I know that you have a foot fetish. I am OK with that, in fact, I have one myself. Never once in my life have I ever seen anyone like feet. You are the first. It's kind of odd, huh? Well, I just need you do a favor for me," I was on the edge of nearly just exploding. A hot girl wants me to do something FOR her? "I want you to tickle my feet. It's been something I have been longing for. No one else has done it, and I feel like you are the perfect one. I've seen lots of people do it on YouTube and stuff, and I want to be a part of it. Maybe I can model my feet for you someday?"
It all went dark.
She invited me over to her house a week later, she told her parents I was going to tutor her. Not something that everybody does everyday. I felt so nervous. I pulled up her driveway and entered her house. Oddly, only her was home.
"Parents went out to go to see Eagle Eye. Come on in." She said very welcomely.
Was I up to this?
She led me to her room, which was pink and moderately big. She sat on her bed and smiled. She lifted her leg right at me, shoe pointing towards me. She asked me to take it off for her.
I tied very slowly, and put my hand on the top and my other on the bottom. I took it off and a smell of stinky feet rose to my nose. Smell of beauty. I tugged on her pink sock and it came off, and the foot came into view. It was very elegant to see her toes again. Now painted rosy red. She put up her other leg and I did the same process.
I took both feet by the heels, and put them together. I put them under my arm and put my finger on her wrinkly soles. I brushed them down gently. She giggled. Then I put the tips of my fingers and took them straight to the middle and started scratching forcefully. Her feet went up and down and I had to struggle to keep them in grasp. Then I went under her toes and scratched them in there. She was already near passing out from laughing.
"Feel tortured yet?" I asked her.
"Not yet." She declared.
She told me to get a feather out of her drawer. She bought one for later use of tickling. I took it out. It was blue-colored and was shiny. I felt good about touching her feet with this.
She also told me there was some ropes and some string. I took those out and looped the string around her two big toes and wrapped her ankles in rope all around tightly.
By this time, my pants felt so short on me that I felt like I was going to cream them. Better move onto the tickling.
I took the feather and took the tip and brushed them down. She was screeching out loud laughs. She tried to crunch them to prevent the sensation, but I had scratched her soles so hard that it was un-blockable.
I opened up her toes and brushed the feather into there, wriggling it around.
"AHAHAHAHA! Keep on going! UHAHAHAAHAHA!"
Man I wish I taped it...
The next month, I finally modeled her feet.
After we got out of college, we married each other.
The End
sorry to cut it short, but I just need some time to get it done.
Revising will go on later
any comments?
I was sitting in my chair in band on the last day of the 11th grade. I saw the girl of my dreams talking to her friends and laughing. It was an amazing sight. She was so beautiful at that scene. We were friends, but very distant. I never asked her out, because I was afraid to.
She was an amazing sight. She had blond hair, she was tall, she had ocean blue eyes, and always wore awe-looking clothes. I had always liked her since the 6th grade, and now 5 years later, I still do. One thing I liked about her was her footwear. I always loved to see her feet. Some days she wore husky boots, and some days she wore flip-flops, either way were beautiful.
I never told anyone that I had a foot fetish. Seemed to odd of something to say to anyone. I was scared if I told anyone, that they would think I was weird or something. I wanted to tell her, but I thought she was too much of a secret-let-outter than someone to keep one. So I didn't tell her.
But it slipped out.
NEXT SCHOOL YEAR (12th grade)
It was early-August. School had started back, and things felt better. Then I heard her familiar flip-flops. FLIP FLOP FLIP FLOP. She pulled out two chairs behind me and sat in one, and propped her feet on the other. Her legs were right beside me. One flip-flop was cracked, and her soles were visible.
Occasionally I glanced at her feet, then looked right back at the teacher, but sometimes I couldn't help myself. Every once in a while I thought to myself to talk to her, but it slipped my mind. Then it just came. I had to say something, just something.
I looked back at her and stuttered "Nice... sandals." Why did I have to say that? Seems very odd that I NOW mention to say anything about it, and the fact that I was even looking at them. Maybe she wouldn't notice the oddness of the situation.
"Thank-you" she said, but the tone didn't sound like she was complimented.
Then about five minutes later, I noticed that she was actually moving her feet around in the chair, waving them back and forth repeatedly. Then eventually one slipped off and landed on the ground. FLOPPP
It just happened, I got out of my seat and picked up the flip-flop off the ground and handed it to her, but her bare foot right in my face. I stared. It was so beautiful of a structure. Her toes were crunched. She painted her toenails red and her size 13 foot was right in my vision. It was just so beautiful to me.
Then a second later I got back into my seat. I started to worry that she figured it out. She now knows it... I was positive.
"Class dismissed" the band teacher said.
I headed out of the room slowly. Then when I got right out, she appeared. She asked me, "I saw you looking at my feet in class, and when you got my flip-flop, I saw you looking at my foot... do you like my feet?" She looked a little dumbfounded, and I looked a little scared.
I just stared and hung my head. Lying would be bad for about anything. So I just waited for her to respond, any denial wouldn't matter. In fact, I did get to see her bare foot, so I guess it would be fine if she rejected me anyways.
She smiled. Odd. She walked away, and I was stunned. It was totally opposite from my expectations... what the?
It was late at night, I was just about to get into my bed, when my cell phone rang. I looked at the Caller ID. It was her.
"Hello?" I inquired into the speaker. I was kind of nervous.
She asked me something I have never heard ANYONE say before, "Hey, I know that you have a foot fetish. I am OK with that, in fact, I have one myself. Never once in my life have I ever seen anyone like feet. You are the first. It's kind of odd, huh? Well, I just need you do a favor for me," I was on the edge of nearly just exploding. A hot girl wants me to do something FOR her? "I want you to tickle my feet. It's been something I have been longing for. No one else has done it, and I feel like you are the perfect one. I've seen lots of people do it on YouTube and stuff, and I want to be a part of it. Maybe I can model my feet for you someday?"
It all went dark.
She invited me over to her house a week later, she told her parents I was going to tutor her. Not something that everybody does everyday. I felt so nervous. I pulled up her driveway and entered her house. Oddly, only her was home.
"Parents went out to go to see Eagle Eye. Come on in." She said very welcomely.
Was I up to this?
She led me to her room, which was pink and moderately big. She sat on her bed and smiled. She lifted her leg right at me, shoe pointing towards me. She asked me to take it off for her.
I tied very slowly, and put my hand on the top and my other on the bottom. I took it off and a smell of stinky feet rose to my nose. Smell of beauty. I tugged on her pink sock and it came off, and the foot came into view. It was very elegant to see her toes again. Now painted rosy red. She put up her other leg and I did the same process.
I took both feet by the heels, and put them together. I put them under my arm and put my finger on her wrinkly soles. I brushed them down gently. She giggled. Then I put the tips of my fingers and took them straight to the middle and started scratching forcefully. Her feet went up and down and I had to struggle to keep them in grasp. Then I went under her toes and scratched them in there. She was already near passing out from laughing.
"Feel tortured yet?" I asked her.
"Not yet." She declared.
She told me to get a feather out of her drawer. She bought one for later use of tickling. I took it out. It was blue-colored and was shiny. I felt good about touching her feet with this.
She also told me there was some ropes and some string. I took those out and looped the string around her two big toes and wrapped her ankles in rope all around tightly.
By this time, my pants felt so short on me that I felt like I was going to cream them. Better move onto the tickling.
I took the feather and took the tip and brushed them down. She was screeching out loud laughs. She tried to crunch them to prevent the sensation, but I had scratched her soles so hard that it was un-blockable.
I opened up her toes and brushed the feather into there, wriggling it around.
"AHAHAHAHA! Keep on going! UHAHAHAAHAHA!"
Man I wish I taped it...
The next month, I finally modeled her feet.
After we got out of college, we married each other.
The End
sorry to cut it short, but I just need some time to get it done.
Revising will go on later
any comments?
