The Sexy Feet Of My Best Friend's Mother
 
Published early on our Previews page on Sunday, September 1, 2024.

Official publication date for the main page of our site: Wednesday, September 4, 2024

This story was submitted anonymously.

My first recollection of having a foot fetish was when I was 6 years old, and a baby sitter of ours made me tickle her feet. She'd tell my siblings, and her son to go play outside in the back yard while telling me to stay inside with her. Then she'd lay face down on the couch, and tell me to tickle her feet.

If I'm remembering correctly, our babysitter was a 26 year old stay at home mother who lived near our house. She babysat for my mother, and brought her son with her to our house. He was the same age as me.

Two things about that; one is that I was too young to know what a foot fetish was, and two, making me tickle her feet was something that I really liked to do even though I had no idea why I liked tickling her feet so much. I remember that her soles were very soft, and wrinkly. Maybe that's why I primarily became a sole man later on in life after I realized that soft, wrinkled soles turn me on.

I'm pretty sure that the fun I had tickling my babysitter's feet naturally stirred me to seek out similar fun, and the target of my foot fetish desires ended up being my best friend's mother. At that time, I lived a block away from my best friend whose house was catty-cornered from my house. Part of my back fence was part of his back fence. My siblings and I were at his house more often than he and his siblings were at my house because they had a swing set, and other fun stuff in their back yard. We had nothing in our back yard except for pretend stuff. I lived there between the ages of 5 and 9.

Of course, what caught my eye was the perfect feet of my best friend's mother. My desire for her feet was so strong that I did whatever I could to be around her. I'd make up any excuse to help her with something she was doing, which she always appreciated. But it really annoyed my best friend because he'd want me to come with him to go on bike rides with friends of ours. He'd complain about me staying behind, and I'd tell him that I would catch up with him later.

I don't remember the specifics, but at some point I remember that my best friend's mother had some kind of surgery on her back I think, and she needed to take afternoon naps to help with her recovery. She'd take sleeping pills, and be out like a light for a good 2 to 3 hours before waking up to make dinner for her husband who by the way was a police officer.

Back in those days, a lot of mothers stayed at home to take care of the kids while their husbands worked. But mostly, we were what's known as latchkey kids. A latchkey kid comes back to an empty home after school, or after a day of playing during the summer break, which in those days was very common. So it wasn't a big deal at all for my best friend's mother to be out like a light for most of the afternoon. We kids just went out on bike rides with other latchkey kids, and all was good with the world.

Naturally, as my foot fetish developed, regardless of my naivete about it, riding bikes was a distant 2nd to being around women's feet. That's why I told my friend to go ahead without me when he went bike riding. Having his mother out like a light for a couple of hours at a time was too tempting for me to resist.

When I first crept into the bedroom where his mother laid down to take a nap, my heart was pounding with excitement. There she was, face down on the bed underneath the covers, and she was sound asleep. I crawled along the carpeted bedroom floor to the foot of the bed, and I lifted away the bed covers to expose her sexy wrinkled soles.

I rested my nose on top of the pads of her toes to take a whiff, and smelled the freshness of the bath that she had taken just before her nap. As an adult, I love clean smelling feet, which it seems that I developed at the age of 7 or 8 years old. I took a lick, and then another lick, and then another lick after that.

Then I lightly traced each, and every wrinkle of her sexy soles with my fingers, and my tongue. In retrospect I was worshiping her feet, but I didn't know that back then at such a young age. I had no clue. I only knew that what I was doing made me feel good. It made me feel really good, so I continued worshiping her feet. I'm not sure what prompted me to do it, I suppose simply because of my foot fetish, but I started sucking her toes.

Suddenly, though, she stirred in her sleep, and she adjusted herself on the bed to slide one of her knees closer to her hips. For a moment I panicked, and I thought that she had awaken, but she hadn't. That's when I noticed a spot of wetness on her panties, which made me want to touch her there, so I did. I lifted up the stretchy fabric of her panties, and I pushed my hand inside to touch the wetness.

She stirred again, but she didn't wake up. I don't know why I did it but when she re-positioned herself to be flat on her tummy again with her soles next to each other, I slowly, but surely pulled down her panties of couple of inches at a time until I had stripped them off of her entirely. I was going to put them back on again, but I was afraid that I'd wake her up, so I left her panties on the carpeted floor at the foot of the bed, and I crept back out of the room.

The next day I did the same thing while she was out like a light. I felt a little emboldened to take the risk again because she was perfectly normal with me before she laid down for her nap.

I don't remember how many times that I worshiped her feet, but I also got into the habit of slowly stripping off her panties, and leaving them on the carpeted floor at the foot of the bed. I didn't really play with her pussy. After all, I had no idea what I was doing. I just kind of touched it a but, and marveled at the strings of sticky cum that messing around with her pussy seemed to produce.

In retrospect, I have to wonder if she ever wondered why she had no panties on after taking a nap. Did she simply think she had taken them off herself in the stupor of her medication? I don't know. She seemed to be the kind of woman who would have stopped me from doing what I was doing had she realized what was going on. Then again, had she realized it, and allowed me to continue, maybe she knew that I was too naive to know any better, and that as long as it didn't escalate into anything overtly sexual, she figured that there was no real harm.

My gut tells me that she was so out of it because of the medication that she was virtually clueless about what I was doing.