My Wife's Drunk Foot Fetish Colleague 

Published early on our Previews page on Monday, February 19, 2024.

Official publication date for the main page of our site: Wednesday, February 21, 2024.

This story was submitted anonymously.

"I think that Paul has a foot fetish," my wife told me near the end of a party at our house to celebrate her birthday.

"Yeah, I saw him grabbing your foot on the couch," I smiled. "He probably does have one."

Paul is one of my wife's partners in a law firm where they work. According to my wife, he's newly divorced, and he had been drinking a lot more than he usually does.

"I don't think that he can drive home," she told me.

"Whatever you need to do to get his keys, get them," I told her, "and tell him that he needs to sleep it off in our guest room."

"You think?" She asked.

"Absolutely," I insisted. "He's way too wasted to drive."

"Okay," she told me while shaking her head. "Sorry about that."

"Well, he's going through a lot," I told her, "so we should give him a break."

A few minutes later my wife told me that she had gotten Paul's keys, which she handed to me, and he agreed not to leave until he sobered up enough to drive.

"I gave him some coffee," she told me, "so that should help. He's in the guest room now."

"Great!" I replied. "Why don't you say your good-byes to everybody who's still here, and I'll go keep him company."

"Thanks," she replied. "I'll see you in a bit."

When I got into our guest room to talk to Paul, he apologized for being so wasted. I told him that it wasn't a big deal, and I affirmed that it was perfectly okay to sleep over. He lamented that he didn't have anybody to go back home to, and that his life was a mess. He told me how lucky I was to be married to such a great wife, and then he apologized for grabbing her foot.

"Did she tell you that I grabbed her foot?" He slurred. "I couldn't help myself. She has such pretty feet, and you know I have a foot fetish, don't you?"

"I didn't know that Paul," I replied, "and yes, she has really pretty feet."

"If I could, and don't take this the wrong way because I know the two of you are married," he slurred his words again, "but I'd worship her feet every day. Do you do that? Do you worship her feet every day?"

"No he doesn't," my wife chimed in to say when she suddenly stepped into the room. "He used to," she shared with him, "but not any more."

"Well that's too bad," he told her. Then he turned to me, and straight out told me one slurred word at a time, "You ... Have ... To ... Worship ... Her ... Feet ... Every ... Night .... And ... Lick .... Her ... Soles ... And ... Suck ... Her ... Toes ..."

"You heard him honey," my wife laughed after she jumped onto the bed, and laid flat on her back in between us where we were sitting. "You have to worship my feet," she added while pointing her sexy feet in my direction, and scrunching up her toes

Just as I was about to grab her feet to play along with whatever she had in her mind to do, Paul grabbed onto her legs, and deftly flipped her over onto her stomach.

"I'll show you how it's done," he told me. "Watch, and learn."

With my wife's mouth wide open in amazement as she turned her head around to look at me, I looked back at her with a happy smile on my face, and gave her a thumbs-up signal to let her know that I liked what Paul was doing.

Instead of protesting, which I thought she might do, she spontaneously closed her eyes, and laid her head down to enjoy what Paul was doing to her feet. He hugged, and firmly held her legs against his chest so that her sexy wrinkled soles were inches from his face. Holding onto her ankles, too, so that her legs and feet were effectively immobilized, he began to kiss and lick her soles, and suck her toes.

In ecstasy as she reached out to grab fistfuls of the bed's cover sheet, she squirmed beneath him, and moaned her approval while my cock got hard with excitement. I could see that Paul's cock had gotten hard in his pants, too, and I wondered what might happen next. With all of the sexual tension in the room, I wondered if he'd want to fuck her, and I wondered whether or not my wife would allow it.

Thankfully, though, neither my wife nor I had to deal with that possibility since all Paul wanted to do was to have his way with her feet. In his drunken state of mind, he had clearly abandoned all pretense of trying to honor our marriage. But as my wife and I talked about it later, the circumstances of it all that night kind of made what happened a singular event that was great foreplay to our sexual dynamic.

For whatever reason or reasons that I stopped worshiping my wife's feet, Paul's worshiping of her feet that night got me back into it, which naturally made her happy as well.

Interestingly, Paul's memory of that night was all a blur, or at least that's what he told my wife. He vaguely remembered grabbing her feet, and maybe doing something that he shouldn't have done, but according to his account, he doesn't remember any of the details. He basically apologized for whatever he had done in his drunken state of mind, and my wife simply laughed it off with him as if nothing bad had happened.

Of course, from my wife's perspective, and certainly from my perspective since I got off on it, too, nothing bad did happened. It was all good for us, and for Paul as well even though he apparently doesn't remember how good it actually was.