I Didn't Want Her To Know, Part 1
(Published on Saturday, December 28, 2002)
This story was submitted anonymously.

Like most people with a foot fetish, I kept mine secret from almost everyone.  In fact, I didn't even reveal it to some girlfriends.  It is very sensitive information.  I never told my ex-girlfriend Michelle about it.  She even suspected me, asking me point-blank once, but I denied it.  I chose to hide it since she was the type of girl to exploit it more for my pain than my pleasure.  Also, I imagined that she wouldn't be able to keep the secret after we had broken up, so I never divulged the secret.  She was a bad girl, a little crazy, and it was good that she was out of my life.

Several years and relationships later, I had learned to be a little more trusting.  I currently had a girl named Whitney that I was not "dating," but had a steady physical relationship with.  She had a long-distance boyfriend, and she craved sex more than that situation provided.  Therefore, our situation was perfect, no attachment, and lots of pleasure.  She was very wild and uninhibited, so she seemed like a perfect girl to share my secret with.  And she was.

Whitney enjoyed the reaction that her feet would give me.  Therefore, she took impeccable care of her feet and nails.  Foot scrubs, toe rings, anklets, and constantly changing nail colors.  When I would see her on campus, she would coyly wave her painted fingernails at me, which would frequently be the same as her toenail color.  Seeing her fingernails, I couldn't help but imagine the same color on her toes.  On special occasions, she would spring for professional pedicures.  Usually, she would then call me and say, "I just got back from the nail salon, why don't you come over?"  Needless to say, I'd be over in no time.

We had an incredible physical relationship.  She loved when I went down on her, and she made it great for me by teasing my cock with her feet while I was down there.  She also loved having her toes sucked during sex.  Together, this led to tons of toe sucking, oral sex, and sex.

Since we weren't dating, many rules of typical relationships didn't apply.  We had just finished having sex (missionary while I sucked on her toes, so nice), and were laying in bed talking.  She straightened her legs our above her admiring her toes and said, "My friends are so jealous."

I winced, "I thought you promised not to tell anyone about the feet thing!"  I worried since we had many mutual friends, and I didn't want my fetish to be public knowledge.

She replied, "Don't worry, I didn't use your name.  I just say that I have a guy who worships my feet and is an incredible lover, and they are so jealous."

I smiled in reply.

"I wanted to share you with one of my friends.  Would that be OK?  She would keep it secret."

Now, this seemed to be too good to be true.  I already had a sweet setup with Whitney, and now she wanted to get another girl in on the action.  "You mean like a menage-a-trois?" I asked smiling.

"No, you wish," Whitney chuckled. "You know I don't like girls at all.  But I'm not above letting a friend try you out once.  But I expect you'll come right back to me."

"Of course I would," I assured her, "are you sure you want to do this?" not wanting to seem too eager.

Whitney pressed, "She's real cute, nice soft feet, just your type."

"Oh, so you already have a girl picked out?" I asked.

"Yeah, its a girl I have theater with.  We were wasted one night talking about it and she's really intrigued by the idea.  I even had her watch some of the porn movies we watched, to give her an idea of what we had done."  Now I was getting hard as hell imagining the possibilities.  This didn't go unnoticed, as Whitney began tracing her big toe around my stomach, legs, and everywhere else around my cock.

I was breathing heavier now. "Sounds like you got this girl ready to go, are you sure she'll like me?"

Whitney continued naughtily, "I showed her a picture of you, and she said she had seen you around before.  So she's down."  Whitney's foot now slid up and down my shaft.  I could see her slyly reaching for the oil she would use for footjobs.  I thought to myself that she was really buttering me up for this.

"Do I know the girl?"  I asked.

Whitney thought to herself as she squirted some lubrication on her foot.  She then batted her eyes as she extended the foot to me, signaling to me that I should rub the lube in.  After I began rubbing the oil in, she answered, "She didn't seem to know you, so probably not."

I shrugged, and placed Whitney's well-oiled foot on my cock.  She began rubbing as I sighed with pleasure, "Well, I'm OK with the idea."

Whitney seemed pleased, "Great!"  She then picked up her phone -- without missing a beat on the footjob -- and quickly dialed.  I heard only her side of the conversation: "Hey . . . yeah, he's down.  Tomorrow night (I nodded)?  Yeah, that seems good with him . . . Nia's Nails?  Yeah, he appreciates their work . . . oh, I won't tell.  OK, bye-bye, Michelle."

With that name, my eyes shot open wide as saucers.  I feared the worst.  "Michelle?!  Not my ex- Michelle!"

Whitney looked perplexed, "Huh?  You have an ex- named Michelle?  Can't be the same girl, she didn't seem to know you."

"If it was her, I could see her pretending not to remember me.  Is she like 5'3", brown curly hair, half-Mexican?"

Whitney had stopped the footjob and clasped her hands over her mouth in shock.  "Oh my God, it can't be."  But I knew it was.  I was mad as hell at what happened, and for whatever reason, was suddenly even more turned on.  Since I was laying naked, Whitney interpreted this as a further perversion of mine.  "My God, you are so hard your cock is purple!  Are you sure you don't really want this?"

"Of course I don't!"  My cock, which was practically purple, disagreed.  I tried to explain myself, "Of course I'm hard, you were just giving me a footjob."

"Not this hard, it looks like your dick is going to explode," she replied.

Whitney took the balls of her right foot and pushed up the underside of my cock.  In one push, I came in seconds.  "Oh God!" I screamed as I climaxed.  Without missing a beat, I continued, "I'm serious, you have to cancel this."

Whitney tried to call, and nobody answered.  Michelle would be at my place the next night.

. . . to be continued . . .