My Feet Are My Best Feature
(Published on Saturday, April 16, 2005)
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“My feet are my best feature,” I heard a confident female voice pronounce. I wheeled around and saw my best friend’s girlfriend, Deb, holding her small, bare, amazing high arched foot in the air and wiggling her perfect toes. Then she pointed her toes and lowered her foot into my friend's lap. Jealousy filled my mind and a hardening cock filled my pants before I realized I should stop gawking. I have no idea if anyone noticed my reaction, but I got out of the room quickly.

Deb had just started dating my friend, and I had never seen her feet before. But I could think of little else for the next couple months. I fantasized about her day and night, and even when having sex with my girlfriend, who had cute feet of her own and didn’t mind me admiring and massaging them daily. But Deb’s feet were, well, “legendary” is the only thought that comes to mind. I had never, nor have I since seen such high arches. And her toes weren’t long and bony like most women who have super high arches. They were perfectly shaped, medium length, and fleshy. And they were completely flexible, again uncommon for a strong, dramatically arched foot. I’ve imagined a lot of feet, and hers were the first to exceed my imagination.

But to make a long story short, I eventually broke up with my girlfriend, and immediately after that, my friend dumped Deb and began dating my ex. Deb then started hitting on me to go out with her. But Deb was not a really cute girl, and she had slept around a lot. Her nickname was “The Moaner.” Strangely though, she refused to have sex with my friend. Rumors are that she got in some kind of trouble, either with drugs or pregnancy, and had become a born again Christian. Her friends sometimes joked that she had also become a born again virgin. But the bottom line was that I only wanted to go out with her for her feet, and I feared that stories of my foot fetish would get around pretty quickly. If I knew that Deb had gotten into trouble and now was withholding sex with my friend, I was pretty sure that all the juicy news about what I did with her feet would get around too. Not that it would be that juicy… back then I didn’t know about foot worship. Massaging and tickling was my game, but it was pretty obvious that I liked to do it more than ‘normal’ guys.

Nevertheless, even though I tried to keep Deb at arm’s length, after a little get-together I had at my apartment one night, Deb stayed to help me clean up after everyone left and ended up on the couch together watching a movie with me. Alone. I was sitting at one end, and she quickly ended up in the fetal position at the other end with her feet toward me. Her foot and toe prints shown through her new white socks, and I watched her wiggling and teasing feet more than the movie. It was like she was trying to draw attention to them, and it was working. About 15 minutes into the movie, she extended a foot into my lap. If she had been my girlfriend, I would have eagerly massaged it, but we were still “just friends” whose relationship was based on sarcasm and friendly insults, so I couldn’t suddenly do something so intimate.

I even worried that she somehow knew details of my fetish, and was just messing with me to have some fun. You see, about a year ago, I was in a similar situation with her roommate, Annie. It was after a party, and I found myself crashing on a bed with Annie and another girl. I had laid down crosswise across the foot of the bed so that if the other girl, who I’d had some foot experiences with previously, extended her legs, her feet would have come to rest in my lap. But Annie joined us later and extended her socked feet onto my chest. Pretending to try to get her to remove them, I started tickling her feet softly. She’d lift them and return them like she liked having her feet tickled. It was the sexiest thing I had ever experienced, and it went on in total silence for about a half hour until I tried to get her socks off. Just before I got her first sock over her heel, she angrily pulled her feet away, never to return. It was embarrassing, and I hoped she told no one, but I was starting to wonder about Deb.

So with Deb’s foot in my lap, I became self-conscious and pretended I wasn’t interested. “What do I look like, a foot rest?” I said.

“Yes, a very good one,” she said with a moan as she rolled onto her stomach and extended her other foot into my lap, toes pointed, soles completely exposed except for the socks.

I gave her right foot a tickle and she pulled it away. “Change your mind?” I teased, trying to make it seem like I was just playing a game. But Deb returned her right foot to my lap without a word, almost daring me to tickle it again. This time I attacked her left foot, and she yanked that away pointing her toes as she held in the air. “I can do this all night,” I warned. “You can surrender whenever you want.” Then she lowered her left foot to my lap! I badly wanted her socks off, but I didn’t want a repeat of the Annie incident, so I came up with a plan. I grabbed her toes and tickled her right foot. When she tried to pull her foot away, I held her sock down so it started pulling off her foot. Now the decision was hers: If she kept pulling, her foot would be bare. My heart was thumping as I tickled her foot and she kept pulling and pulling, and pulling! When the sock popped off her bare foot, my heart almost stopped. I was bracing myself for an Annie-style anger, and I tried to cover my tracks. I said, “Now I have a hostage. Do you give up?”

Without a word, she lowered her bare foot back into my lap, toes pointed to accentuate her foot‘s beauty! Only her toes, ball, and heel were pink. The whole center of her foot was snowy white because her high arches never let the flesh touch the ground. It was like the ground wasn‘t worthy of her feet. I felt like I was in church!

“Be nice,” she said in a singsong but warning voice. The unspoken message was loud and clear: “Be cool, and you can tickle my bare feet all night.”

That melted me. I touched her bare sole lovingly and whispered, “Like this?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. Then she gasped and scrunched her toes as my fingers explored under her arch. But she held it there, and as I explored her bare sole with my fingertips, her feet started interacting with my hand. Instead of just sitting there and letting me do all the work, her foot responded to my touch; sometimes pulling away from overload, and sometimes pushing back for more intensity. And her left foot, which was still covered by a sock, started caressing the tops of my hands and sliding up my arm seductively. It was incredible. Her feet were so sexual.

“This one is getting jealous,” I said as I began pulling her left sock off slowly.

“Yes it is,” she chuckled, giving me a green light. For the rest of the movie, I made love to her bare feet with my hands, and I fell in love with Deb. After the movie, she said, “I better go,” but she didn’t move. Then, with a chuckle, she said, “But you’re making it awfully hard.” I didn’t comment on the double meaning.

Finally we got up, and with her standing there barefoot, and me with a tent in my pants, I thought the message was pretty clear. It was so clear we didn’t even need to talk about it. Deb simply said, “Wanna come over for the game tomorrow night?”

“Yeah!” I said as if it were a stupid question.

Deb smiled and slipped her clogs back on. I walked her to the car, but we didn’t kiss goodnight. I walked back to my apartment and immediately saw her discarded white socks with the perfect foot prints in them. You can imagine what I did with those.

When I got to her apartment the next night, she opened the door wearing toe socks. They were hot, and I told her I liked them. I didn’t say I couldn’t wait to get them off, but I’m sure she understood. Then she asked if she left her socks at my apartment, and before I could say anything, a female voice said, “Still leaving your clothes all over town, Deb?” It was Annie’s voice, and soon she was standing next to Deb.

“It was just my socks,” Deb said defensively. Annie smiled at me. I blushed.

“Good for you,” Annie said, kissing Deb on the cheek and glancing at me. She wasn’t teasing. She was genuinely happy for us.

I met Annie’s new boyfriend and we all sat down to watch the game. Deb put her feet in my lap a few times, but with all the cheering and jumping around, nothing developed until after the game. That’s when we popped in a movie and turned down the lights. Both Deb and Annie put their feet in their boyfriends’ laps and covered themselves in a blanket. I prayed they wouldn’t start talking about feet. Thankfully they didn’t. Deb just wiggled her feet under the blanket to get my attention and I started massaging. She just smiled at me and I secretly played with her feet. The toe socks let me slide my fingers in between her toes and she loved it.

After the movie, Annie and her boyfriend left to stay at his place, and I got excited that Deb and I would be alone. As soon as the door closed, Deb rolled over on her back. Her feet were still in my lap and I was still massaging them softly. She watched me curiously for a while, then she said, “I’m getting ticklish.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, pulling my hands away automatically.

“You are such a tease.”

“Me?”

“Yes you! You know I love having my feet tickled.”

“Oh,” I said, touching her foot again.

She pulled the blanket up, uncovering her feet, and said, “Now take my socks off.” I pulled her right sock down over her heel and then pulled at each one of her toes like you would remove a glove. I did the whole thing very seductively, and I could tell she liked my expertise. “You’re so good at that,” she said, and crossed her socked foot over the bare one, urging me to continue. “Do you think you’ll ever get bored with my feet?”

This was the first time she had demanded an answer about her feet, and I froze. I just shook my head as I felt the blood rushing to my face.

“See. I told you we were perfect for each other,” she said, very happily. She didn’t bring up the issue of dating. I think she was now so confident that it was assumed.

Her confidence was intoxicating, and I started caressing her bare feet. Her feet were writhing to my touch, and it was so sexy that I had to work hard not to cum in my pants.

“When are you going to break up with Jill?” she asked, referring to the girl I was dating.

Jill was more of a “fuck buddy” than a girlfriend. She loved sex, and although her feet were nothing special, I didn’t want to give up the ability to call someone and have my dick sucked on a moment’s notice. “We’re not really going out.” I said, trying to stall.

Deb pulled her feet out of my lap. “But you’ve been dating.”

“Well…”

“Fucking.”

“Yes.”

“Stop fucking her,” Deb said sternly. She had her knees pulled to her chest and her arms were wrapped around her shins. Her fingers were caressing her own insteps protectively, and the message was clear. If I wanted her feet, no more sex with Jill.

It was a tough decision, and I knew I had to think about it carefully. “Okay,” I said after deliberating for 0.34 seconds.  I waited for her to extend her feet back into my lap, but she just looked at me like she wasn’t sure she believed me.

Then she swung her precious bare feet to the floor, stood up, and without looking at me said, “Call me after you’ve done it.” She picked up her socks and waited for me to leave.

The next day I told Jill I couldn’t see her anymore, and then called Deb.

“Good. What do you want to do now?” she asked, dispassionately.

“Honestly?”

“Yes.”

“Make love to you.”

She hesitated as if she had to gather her strength, then said, “I can’t do that until I’m married. You know that.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” I said nervously, and cautiously confessed, “I… love… what we’ve been doing, but I can’t take much more without some relief.”

“Maybe you should stop playing with my feet.”

“No!”

“Oh, poor baby!“ she chuckled. “I’m just kidding! I know you’re in love with them.” I was so embarrassed, but also refreshed by her candor. It was nice to not have to explain my behavior. “Are you hard right now?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s no good,” she said teasingly. Then in a sultry voice, she said, “I’m just going to take my socks of if you don’t mind.” After a silent pause, she asked, “Do you?”

“No!” I blurted enthusiastically.

“Good. I love being barefoot.” After a few seconds of moaning as she peeled off a sock, she breathily said, “I also love having my socks pulled off. I‘d rather have you do it, but...” Then after another panting sock removal, she said,  “I have such pretty feet, don’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Are you hard yet?”

“Yes!”

“Oooo, that’s nice. I love how easy you are. Now grab your cock.” I was already holding it. “I’m running my fingertips up the sole of my foot, thinking about you. Are you thinking about me?”

“Yes.”

“About my bare feet?”

“Yeah,” I gasped. Something about her saying “bare feet” started putting me over the edge.

“Come on baby!” she squealed as if she knew what was happening. “I can tell you want it. Stroke it,” she urged. “Stroke it and think about my feet.”

“Say BARE feet,” I urged.

“Oh yeah. You love my BARE feet, don‘t you?” she panted.

“Yes,” I grunted. “Does it turn you on?”

“Oh yes. God yes.”

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Mmmmm, yes.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“KISS my BARE feet,” she whined.

“Oh yes,” I said, never even thinking of doing that before.

“Yes… kiss my pretty bare feet all over!” she squealed, her intensity obvious. “Tickle my pretty bare feet with your lips.”

“Fuck! Your feet are fucking gorgeous!” I moaned.

“Now suck my toes,” she urged, panting. “I’m pushing my bare toes into your mouth and I want you to lick them and suck them until I come.” Her voice was quivering with excitement.

“Oh god!” I cried, trying to hold back my ejaculation.

“Keep stroking. Oh baby. Stroke your big cock and suck my pretty bare toes! Oh yes. Keep sucking. I’m gonna come. Oh god. My toes. Suck my toes. Oh baby. Oh yes. Here I come. Oh, oh, oh!!!”

She started coming loudly, living up to her nickname, and I let myself go, shooting a huge load out the top of my pants. After a minute or so, all I could hear was panting on the phone. Then, when she caught her breath, she whispered, “Do you feel better?”

“Oh my god. YES!” I said relieved, and we both chuckled.

“Are you coming over tonight?”

“Want me to?”

“I’ll get a pedicure…” she offered as bait.

It was so right. “I love you,” I said, and meant it.