Click Here for the Front Page

My Fetish For Female Feet
Published on Sunday, May 22, 2010

This story was submitted anonymously by Dpprkid462.

Author's note: "I started on this three years ago, and in the three years
so much has happened. I'll have to get busy writing again, but at least
you guys can catch up 'til then. Your comments are always appreciated!"

Feel free to submit your comments about this story in our free foot fetish chat forum.
To do this, just click here for the story section topic to make your comments public.

My fetish for female feet has continued to grow in intensity since literally near infancy. My mother informed me that as a baby I would crawl directly to her different friends' legs and play with their stockings.

According to most clinical opinions of foot fetishism, the fetish develops usually at a very young age due to occurrences just like that and, continues to grow. And lord has it grown. As I am merely 25 now, I’m only on the threshold of satisfying all my carnal desires for feet, but as I look back I have had a pretty good run. All of this is true, and not exaggerated in anyway. I couldn’t make this stuff up even if I wanted.

As a boy I continued to try my best to touch women's feet as much as I could. Usually it would be friends of the family I would offer massages too, or even a few cousins who would become irritated when I would pine for them to remove their socks. The bare foot is my weakness. I do appreciate a sexy pair of hose, and pumps, stilettos, and anything open toed can make me weak in the knees and drool. But it's when that hose comes off, or that shoe pops off when I go over the edge.

Around fourth grade I made my first bold move on a teacher. Very young, I still knew that I wanted very badly to suck on a woman's toes. And specifically a grown woman. This probably is what also started my love for MILF’s as well lol.

Looking back, I cannot believe I did this, but I remember it as clear as day. We would line up at the teacher's desk for help with math problems, she would give us help, and we’d go back to our desks to finish the assignment. This woman I wouldn’t touch now, but back then I was desperate. She had to be in her late 40's. She was an older black woman, but with caramel skin. It was summer, she had on sandals, and she was always well lotioned. I wanted to kiss those toes.

When it was finally my turn in line, I asked her a pretend question. After she answered, I leaned over and whispered, “Can I kiss your feet after school?”

She turned in revulsion, and yelled a loud drawn out and angry “No!”

I pretended like nothing happened, and prayed inside she wouldn't reveal what I had said, as everyone was now interested. Her eyes followed me with her mouth still wide open in disgust as I walked back to my seat. An inquiring classmate asked what I had said, and I quickly saved myself by saying I had asked if she could let me use the teacher copy of  the math book with all the answers in it. I can guarantee in her entire tenure, surely before, nor after I left was she ever exposed to anything like that. Her only response was to write my name on the board, plus one check (ridiculous demerit) hahahaha.  She never brought it up, and I was in terror when the parent/teacher conference arose later that year. But still it never came out, and I never approached her again about it.

My first real fulfillment would be when I was around eight years old. My sister and I were to be babysat for the evening by a very close friend of the family while my parents went out for a night on the town. She and her husband were at the time separated, and trying to reconcile. He had gotten physical with her a month earlier.

Now let me also say, as of until maybe early last year, I had not been attracted to black women's feet since I was little. When I was younger, the variety of people I was around, and the neighborhoods were predominately African American, as am I. It wasn't until after I was ten when we moved to a predominately white suburb that my tastes shifted dramatically. After that I was completely obsessed with beautiful, creamy, tan, white female feet. But that's later, so back to the story.

Now for years I had fantasized about this woman's feet. She was literally like the color of honey, and was always very sweet to us. She was quite younger than my mom. I loved seeing the wrinkles of her feet, and would dream of kissing her feet. Now after all this time I had my chance, especially now that her husband was gone. I was quite the little perv already. I was so excited when we got over there, I could barely maintain myself.

She, my sister, and I watched tv in her living room. My sister was on one couch at one end of the room, and the woman with the feet of my young dreams laid on another couch closer to the tv. I sat next to that couch with my head by her feet. My sister was only four, so I wasn't too uncomfortable offering my friend's mother a foot massage. She happily accepted, thinking it harmless. I asked if she had lotion. and she let me know that it was in the bathroom bottom cabinet. I quickly grabbed the pump lotion, and flew back to those feet.

Her feet were already propped on the couch, so I kneeled by her feet as she lay facing the tv on her side. I slowly worked the lotion into her feet, and massaged and massaged her delectable toes for what seemed like eternity. I was in heaven, but I wanted more. I wanted to kiss those feet. I desperately craved to finally kiss a woman's foot. That I could not do with my sister wide awake, so eventually she began to get sleepy, and with my help I took her to a bedroom to put her to bed. Now I was finally completely alone with those feet waiting for me in the living room.

The massage must have been enjoyable, as she was starting to become sleepy as well. I on the other hand was wide awake, and hopped up on feet. I went right into it, and politely asked if I could kiss her feet. I still can't believe she said this, but she said, “Not right now, wait 'til my feet warm up.”

She had to have thought it was a little weird, but since I was so young, she probably thought that playing with her feet would be harmless. I continued to massage them, and I would ask again and again between stretches. She'd keep saying, “Not until they warm up.”

Finally she fell asleep, and I dove into those feet. I started pressing and rubbing my face into her soft wrinkled soles, smelling her scent mixed with the lotion. I rained kisses upon the wrinkles, and each and every toe. I wish I had known about “shrimping” then, as I would have sucked the polish off her toes. But at 8 years old, and a handful of feet, this was nirvana. I rubbed my cheeks and lips against the smooth tops of her perfect feet as she slept. This went on for at least a good hour or two until I had completely satisfied myself, because I simply didn't know what else to do after that. I kept playing with her feet until I got tired, and went to sleep myself. Little did I know that what you need is a good footjob, but I would learn that years later.

Eventually my parents came to pick us up late in the night, and I went home on cloud nine wondering if it had all been a dream. I have not seen her for over ten years, but to this day I fantasize about going back to her home, and finishing what I started. She and my parents haven't talked for years, so I think I would be safe from my mother receiving an awkward call. And I know she is divorced, but I have no idea if she ever remarried. I'd pretend to just stop by to say hello because I was in the area, as I still know where she lives, and would make small talk for a while. Liquor would definitely have to be involved, and then I would bring that night up, and tell her I never forgot it. Then I would ask if she would mind a foot massage again, and hopefully she would let me rub her feet, which would progress to my finally sucking those toes.

She would probably get a little uncomfortable, but I would let her feel how hard my cock was against her feet. I would tell her I have fantasized about this for all my life, and now I was old enough to do it. I'd beg her to please just let it be our secret. Knowing her, if she's still of the same demeanor, I'm pretty sure that she would let me have my way with her feet. I know she would stare in disbelief, and probably be reluctant as I quickly pulled my cock out, and began to slowly rub it against her feet. I wouldn't make it last too long, as I wouldn't want her to freak out so that she'd withdraw her feet.

So I would grasp her ankles, and pump between her arches. I'd tell her to seize my cock between her ankles and press her feet into my abs. I'd then lay on that very floor with her sexy feet gripping my spasming cock, and gasp at her to arch her feet, and wiggle her toes. That would do it. I would groan, and nearly pass out as a wave of orgasm wracked through me. The look on her face, I could not imagine as she would watch me spurt slimy sperm that would splatter her ankles, and warm cum would come spilling out all over her tops of her feet and toes. Finally cumming all over those feet that I've longed for, for many years. It's taken me quite some time to build up the courage to go back to her house, but after years I can now. And only recently have I been more public about my footjob, as I will explain later. If I finally get those feet that drove me crazy as a boy, it will be a huge triumph, and I will keep you informed.

After that encounter was a very very long dry spell. What can you expect? I was eight! We moved to the suburbs when I was about ten. I'm not revealing where I live because you never know who's reading this stuff, and I don't want people to put two and two together.  Furthermore, I'm sure many people whom I reference would not want to be named, or even written about for that matter.  I think my writing this is cathartic, and a tremendous release, as talking to people about your foot fetish and experiences is not as well received as it is when commenting on the weather.  However, I know I enjoy a lot of these stories, so it's time I gave a little back.

Now in junior high I was surrounded by beautiful Caucasian feet. This was pivotal because much of my attention was focused on teachers. One teacher of mine would walk barefoot around the class. Again, looking back now, my tastes in feet have changed, and I wouldn't give her feet a second look now. They were small and sort of stubby, and the nails were not painted either. Not very shapely, nor high arches. But at that point seeing any foot, especially a bare one was mindblowing. So during an after school tutoring session with her, I asked if I could kiss her feet. She said politely no.

I begged, “Please, please, please.”

She politely said no again, but that I could kiss her on the cheek. Defeated, I accepted, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. And that was it. That was a huge letdown, as I thought she would let me. Thankfully, she never told my parents either.

One of my friend's mothers had the most perfect pair of feet I'd ever seen. They were also close with my parents. She was white with dirty blonde hair, and a very nice healthy set of breasts. I would have given up a finger to spread whipped cream and strawberry syrup all over her, and just have a feast. She had these muscular shapely calves that flowed to perfectly formed ankles, and arches ripe for foot fucking. Her toes were usually always painted, or were french tipped.

I can recall one day when she took me along with her son, and her sister with her son, and her mother to a White Sox game. We had amazing seats right behind home plate, but I could not get my eyes off of her feet, which she had planted on the seat ahead of her. Furthermore, her sister who was just as hot had even gorgeous if not hotter feet than her. I wanted to suck on her toes so badly. And if that's not bad enough, even their mother had a great set of feet for a woman of her age. I felt like I was going insane, and I distinctly remember almost asking her sister if she wanted a foot massage later that day, but I wisely reined myself in. All this holding back of my foot desires was bound to spill over, and eventually I did.

One evening I spent the night over at her house while visiting my friend. Her husband was out of town on business, and immediately my brain was scheming that this would be the day I finally would get those feet. The entire day I was titillated by the possibility of having my hands on those feet.

When night finally came, I sprang into action. I made sure that I laid awake for hours, making sure everyone in the house was deep asleep. My friend was knocked out, so I easily crept out of the room. She was sleeping in the master bedroom, and her young daughter was sharing the bed with her. Her feet were completely exposed as she lay on her stomach. I slowly crawled over to the edge of the bed, and put my face near her feet. I was near delirious at this point.

I softly kissed her foot, and sniffed her toes. Very very gently I kissed the wrinkled sole of her foot, but she apparently had very sensitive feet. It didn't take long for her to twitch, and begin to stir as her feet were molested. I withdrew quickly, and waited for a few minutes. I then returned, and crept back to her feet again. This time I placed almost all of my tongue directly against her smooth supple heel. This made her jerk quickly, and I ducked down under the bed out of view. I crawled out of the room on my belly, army style, and back into my friend's room.

Again after waiting a few moments, I returned, but with a creak on the floor she awoke relatively easily. I quickly had to explain what I was doing in her room at 2 A.M., and said I could not sleep because there were strange noises outside. She got up to check around, and then told me not to worry before going back to bed. I waited a few more minutes, and was starting to go nuts.

Poor judgment then led to me to writing on a slip of paper, and waking her up to hand her my note that read, “Can I rub your feet while you sleep?” Obviously, this didn't work well, so the night ended awkwardly. I later came to find out she told my parents everything. Not good. This was one of the times I was busted cold.

Another time I was stone cold busted was with my computer teacher in 8th grade. I ended up staying after school, and was in a complete foot fetish frenzy. I needed feet badly. So I wandered to her room where I knew she would be alone, and struck up small talk about an assignment that due soon. I quickly switched the conversation to massaging her feet. She quickly put a stop to it, and had me leave. My father was immediately notified, and that was a long awkward conversation with him. That was the last time that I was ever called out on my fetish, and embarrassed for a long time.

Moving into my freshman year, I begin to hone my approach more. Instead of flat out asking to massage different teacher's feet, I would ask if they would like a “stress relieving technique” to use at home. This worked a lot more often. For instance, my English teacher was a little older, but in phenomenal shape with a gorgeous set of legs that she kept oiled and lotioned at all times. Her tan skin and platinum blonde short cut hair contrasted perfectly, and I would sit and ache to suck on her toes. I eventually got up the nerve to set up a “stress relieving” session for her early in the morning before class started. She was my first period teacher.

I got to school a half hour early, but unfortunately she was running a little late. I sat and waited and waited in the class, and finally she came in. We only had about 10 minutes to spare at that point. I did not care, and had to have those feet in my hands. She sat on the counter, I pulled up a chair, and then I pulled her sandals off to reveal those gorgeous soles of hers. I could tell she was nervous, and definitely uncomfortable, so I quickly rubbed her feet and tried to maintain my cool. Then the door swung open, and a girl from my class walked in. I dropped her feet immediately, and the girl stared strangely at us. My teacher quickly slid off of the counter, and put her sandals back on. I never got to touch them again.

I was more bold with a special needs teacher that worked there later in my school years. I was able to rub her feet once after school, and then was emboldened to ask for a second session. After pulling the same maneuver, “early morning pre-class stress relief,” I asked her if she wanted “good luck.”

After replying, "Yes," I lifted her foot to put every toe but her big toe in my mouth, and gave a quick suck. She IMMEDIATELY got uncomfortable and pulled her foot away. There would not be a third session. In fact, later she came up to me and said that what we had done was very inappropriate, and that it could never happen again. I apologized, and feigned ignorance. Meanwhile, all this time no teacher had reported this to any higher-ups, or to my parents. Probably for fear of losing their jobs I'm assuming. I continued on my foot warpath, rubbing teachers and substitute teachers feet throughout my school years.

One teacher actually set up a time for me so that I could leave my history class, and come rub her feet. That only happened once, as I'm pretty sure she saw that I had a throbbing erection in my pants. She had absolutely gorgeous feet. She was Italian with dark jet black flowing hair, and always dressed immaculately, with high heels and open toed sandals. Her toenails always fire engine red or deep wine red. She was a foot fetishist's dream come true. I begged to rub them again, and she said that I could massage her feet again after I graduated. I still know her name, and wonder if I should try to make her live up to that promise. I looked her up, and it appears she's married, so I don't think her husband would appreciate me popping up!

By the time I graduated, by my count I had sucked two teacher's toes, and one girl student. The girl let me massage her feet every day in study hall. Twice I sucked her toes under the table. Her feet were sometimes stinky, which I didn't like because she was usually coming directly from the gym. But she would simply prop her feet up in my lap, and for the next 45 minutes I rubbed to my hearts content while she did homework. By my count I massaged 7 teachers feet in all. Not bad. Never reported or reprimanded either. The closest I came to getting busted big time though still makes me sick to my stomach to this day.

Down the street from our house there was a single parent mom with two boys. She once asked me if I wanted to watch them, but I declined. I was not big into babysitting at all. In hindsight, I should have, as I probably could have played my hand a lot better. She was also a police officer, and worked odd shifts. She was of average beauty, but had a gorgeous set of powerful legs and toned feet. She also had red hair and olive skin that would tan and freckle. She would often wear shorts, and roam around her yard barefoot in the warm summer and spring months. This was too much for me to bear.

One Sunday while doing the yard and cleaning the garage, I noticed she was sitting in the driveway sunning herself, her feet just dangling, asking to be suckled. I couldn't take it any longer, and walked over to ask if she wanted a “stress reliever.” She agreed, so we went into her garage out of sight, and I pulled up a chair as she sat and put her feet in my lap. As usual, I made small talk, pretending that I was planning on going into massage therapy, and had been studying reflexology. I was studying reflexology, and had learned that the sole of a woman's foot has nerve endings that stimulate her sexually. Obviously I focused my attention here.

After a while I could no longer contain myself, and asked if she wanted “good luck.” She said sure, and no sooner than the words came out of her mouth, I greedily shoved her big toe in my mouth and sucked longingly on it. I sucked each individual toe long and hard on that foot while she kept calling me a “goof” and “crazy,” and laughing. I regained composure, and asked her if she wanted me to do the other foot.

She said, “You probably enjoyed that enough.”

We talked a little bit more, and then I left. I had the taste of feet in my mouth, and was feeling good. A short few hours later she comes pulling up in her car into our driveway while I'm cleaning the garage with my mother. She made small talk with my mom, and then made a motion for me to come over when my mom walked away. She was clearly upset. She told me that what I did made her extremely uncomfortable, and that she wanted me to stay away from her, her children and her property. And that if I ever came near any of them, she would have a long talk with my parents about what I did to her feet. I thought I was going to throw up, and was shaking in my shoes. I never went near her place or her kids ever again for as long as I lived there.

This story was submitted anonymously by Dpprkid462.

Author's note: "I started on this three years ago, and in the three years
so much has happened. I'll have to get busy writing again, but at least
you guys can catch up 'til then. Your comments are always appreciated!"

Feel free to submit your comments about this story in our free foot fetish chat forum.
To do this, just click here for the story section topic to make your comments public.

Back to the Story Gallery

Great Feet Foot Fetish Menu