My Crocs Sandals
Published on Wednesday, January 16, 2008
This story was submitted by Flipfloplover.
Note:
This is not a
story that showcases female feet even though they are mentioned.
This story is from a male feet contributor.
Feel free to submit your comments about this story
in
our free foot fetish chat forum.
To do this, just click
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I’ve wanted them for some time now, the Crocs thong sandals that
everyone is wearing. There they are on the shelf, and on clearance
too!! I want them. No, I need them. They’re still too expensive my
inner voice says, but they’re half price I justify, and the only blue
pair in my size among them.
“Get
them,” my feet seem to say. “You know how we like
flipflops.” Then another voice joins in about halfway between my
feet and my head. “Get
them! You know how much fun we can have!”
So now here I am, unwrapping them. How could I have
spent so much on basically a pair of rubber flipflops? “Oh,
stop whining,” my feet and penis complain. “Get naked and
slip them on and we’ll all have some fun!!”
I remove my clothes and stand naked, naked except
for the Nike sandals that I have worn non-stop from when I bought them.
They have been really good sandals, and I have had some good times in
them. I slip them off and slip on the crocs. I wiggle my toes, and my
penis goes from limp to erect in a flash. I walk around getting the
feel of the crocs, they are cushy but are they as comfortable as the
Nikes? Only time will tell.
“Enough with
the feet,” my penis says. “I need
some attention!” I look down
at it
bouncing around down there, its glans proudly bare and swollen, the
scar
from where I cut off its foreskin about half way down the shaft. As I
look, a small drop of pre-cum oozes from the opening, and I reach down
and rub it over the glans. I squeeze the frenum under the head. Oh,
that’s nice. My penis throbs. Now be a good boy and rub me until I cum!
“Whoa,
not so fast,”
I say. “You
made
me buy those sandals. Now you are
going to have to pay for doing so. Any suggestions? Go to Great Feet,
and
check out the new feet pictures while you stroke me to a cum-spattering
ejaculation,”
my penis suggests.
“Well that
sounds good,
but
certainly not punishment. I think we’ll look at the pictures while we
retain an enema and then you’ll get your way. Oh no,” my penis mutters as
it heads south.
I go to the kitchen and pour some instant coffee into a pitcher, and
then to the bathroom. The crocs are comfortable, and I love the way my
feet look in them as I walk around. I fill the pitcher with two quarts
of very warm water, and stir the coffee mixture. I retrieve my enema
bag,
and fill it with the warm coffee. I attach the tubing and the douche
nozzle, and open the clip to fill the tube. I reach for the vaseline,
and
scoop out a gob.
“Is that for me,”
my penis asks, hopefully as it makes a
comeback. “Some is,” I reply as I lube the nozzle, and then reach back to slide
a lubed finger in my rectum. Then good to my word I apply some to
the eager head of my penis, squeezing it, and sliding my hand down over
the shaft while spreading the lube.
“Faster, harder,”
my penis commands as my
balls tighten up and pre cum drips from the tip.
“No,”
I say, and slip the nozzle in my anus.
Click, and the water starts to
flow. As a warm fullness starts to stretch my insides, I sit before the
screen and admire all the naked female feet spread before me.
“Stroke
me,” my penis begs. I oblige, slowly squeezing, stroking and
teasing
under the head where the frenum scar lies.
Oh that feels so good. My
penis is so hard, and my prostate is squeezed from the pressure of the
water in my bowels. I have almost taken the full two quarts by now. The
pressure in my stomach is constant, and crying for release. The bag
empties. I clip the tube shut, and slide the nozzle out. My anus
quivers, and a few drops of the warm coffee escape.
“No release
for you,” I
say as I place a wad of paper between my cheeks, and sit on it. It
helps,
but my stomach is cramping, and my rectum desperately needs to empty.
My
prostate is under tremendous pressure, and drops of semen ooze out the
tip of my very hard penis.
“Stroke me faster,”
my penis begs. It is
burning with the feeling of the coming orgasm, and the glans are so
swollen, and sensitive, and red. I feel it start to pulse and it is all
I
can do to stop stroking and take my hand away.
“Please,”
my penis begs. “I
really want to cum. I need to cum, now!”
“No,”
I say. “Not
until the enema
has had a chance to work for a while.”
But I take pity and rub it
slowly, keeping it just at the point before ejaculation becomes
inevitable. I admire all the pretty feet, and the lucky penises that
are
sometimes stroked by them. My insides churn and cramp. It is all I can
do to keep the enema in.
I look down at my own feet, and admire them in
the new sandals. My penis burns with the need to ejaculate, and finally
I give in. I stroke hard, and feel it pass the point of no return. I
point it down at my feet, and as my climax builds and washes over me, I
ejaculate my sticky, creamy, hot semen over my toes. My penis pulses
and pulses, and I shiver and shudder as the climax reaches its peak
and subsides.
Suddenly my anus gives up the fight, and a squirt of the coffee
solution
runs down my leg. Frantically I squeeze the paper to my expanding anus
to stem the flood, and run for the toilet and relief.
This story was submitted by Flipfloplover.
Feel free to submit your comments about this story
in
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To do this, just click
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