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queerfootfella · 1 year ago

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Ethan lagged behind Braeden as the 23-year-old led his buddy down a bike trail in the local park. Sweaty from walking in the muggy weather, Ethan wiped his forehead. The reason for the trip was to muck up Braeden’s feet, so he was glad the weather was good for something. A generous request for a video of Braeden’s dirty feet was submitted to his OnlyFans. Ethan was his only friend who knew about this stream of income and was happy to oblige when he asked for help.

“Why don’t you start shooting here, dude?” suggested Braeden. “I haven’t seen anybody pass for a while. Get low to the ground and focus on my feet,”

“Got it. You gonna tell me when to stop, or should I film all the way to the bench?”

“All the way to the bench, then we can stop. I need to put my little microphone on for the verbal part,”

“Sounds good. I’ll count you down when you’re ready,”

“Thanks again for doing this, dude. I don’t know how I would have filmed this on my own. Ready to go when you are,”

“No problem! Okay – five, four, three, two,” said Ethan as he sank into a squat. He whispered one and Braeden slowed his gait so his cameraman could keep up. He tapped the feet on the center of Braeden’s iPhone 14 to focus the camera and hit record.

Finally, Ethan thought, Braeden was telling him to look at his feet. He’d made a nasty habit lately out of coveting them secretly. It wasn’t just the feet themselves that drove him crazy, though they were certainly beautiful – size 13, long toes, smooth soles, and well-defined arches. No, what mesmerized Ethan was the way Braeden endlessly moved his feet. If his feet were out in front of him, he would curl and spread his toes. When he was sitting with his feet beneath him, he would use his hands to stretch his toes and crack his knuckles; he liked to use his big toe to pop his second when his hands weren’t within reach. The motion of and attention to his own feet was near constant, and Ethan had a tough time not fixating on it.

Now that he was behind a camera, his job was to document those very toe fidgets and sole scrunches. Just watching him walk was so hot, how to film them came naturally. Every few steps, Braeden would slow to just before a stop. Sometimes, he’d leave one foot in mid-step to show the camera his progressively grimier soles. Each time he stopped, Ethan inched toward them until the bare foot was front and center. He held on to every detail until Braeden walked again. With each fresh start, Ethan found a new angle to feature. Once, he focused on his legs and ass walking. Another time, he moved slightly in front of him to show the tops of his feet. It felt like a dance: Ethan’s partner was the air between Braeden’s soles and the ground and the beat was feet slapping against concrete.

As Braeden turned toward the destination bench and off the pavement, he measured his steps even more precisely. Ethan made a point of getting a close shot of his soles walking across actual earth. Rocks were sticking to his sweaty soles. They looked even more pillowy with pebbles sinking into them. Ethan circled around to film in front of Braeden as he approached the bench. He sat and crossed one foot over the other, which Ethan zoomed in close on. He pulled the camera outward until just before his head was in frame and hit the record button once more.

“And, cut!” said Ethan, “You wanna see it?”

“Yeah, actually. If it didn’t turn out, we can try again on the walk back,” Braeden took his phone back from Ethan.

“I hope it did, my legs are fucking tired from that squat shit,”

Braeden laughed and sat down on the bench, flexing his foot. “I appreciate it so much, man. Imagine trying to film this by yourself with a selfie stick! I would look insane if I got caught. At least this way, you could back me up and tell them I’m doing it for money,”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t know what to say if I got caught like that,” Ethan said. It would be a dream to catch you filming your own feet in the park and I don’t know how I’m going to stop myself from licking them, he thought.

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Soon after he met Braeden in college, Ethan noticed how nice his feet were. He always noticed how nice people’s feet were. Generally, he tried to avoid taking too keen an interest in his friends’ feet. Foot fetishists have a creepy reputation already, and Ethan didn’t want to be thought of like that. Besides that, Ethan had gotten close with Braeden. He wasn’t about to ruin a good friendship because he wanted to suck toes. There were plenty of other toes to suck.

However, one afternoon at Braeden’s apartment, he got a little too nosy. Ethan had always wondered how he afforded so many shoes and video games. The few times he asked about it, Braeden was dodgy. Never close to a satisfactory answer. He’d always had more money than Ethan and their other friends in college, and Braeden claimed for years that all he did was wait tables.

“Okay, seriously, how did you afford a new PC? Didn’t you get a PS5 like six months ago?”

“Working at the restaurant, dude! People like to tip young, strapping men like yours truly,”

“Of course,” Ethan laughed, “but it’s not just the games, or even the shoes and the games. I mean, this apartment is nice as hell! And we hang out too much for you to work much more than like 25 or 30 hours a week. I don’t want to pry, but I’ve always wondered. I’ll only judge if it sounds exceptionally dangerous,”

Braeden looked at Ethan for a few seconds. “Okay, fine. But this stays between us,”

“Of course! I’m not looking for gossip. Maybe some finance tips,”

“So, um. Have you ever heard of BraxTheeAlpha on Onlyfans?”

Ethan roared, “No way! I haven’t heard of him, but he sounds hot,”

“He’s sort of a hunk, yeah,”

“Is it safe to assume you are Brax?”

“In the flesh,” said Braeden, cartoonishly flexing, “Is it really that surprising?”

“Well, yes and no. I mean, like LMFAO said, you’re sexy and you know it. I just didn’t take you for the type, I guess. I don’t know what the type is, exactly,”

“Young, hot and sort of broke?”

“I’d throw vein in there,” he said, and laughed as Braeden started flexing again, “So, I have two follow up questions,”

“Yes, you can subscribe. It’s ten bucks a month,”

“Wow, affordable!” Ethan took out his phone and pretended to start looking it up, “How do you spell that?”

“B-r-a-x and ‘Thee Alpha’ like ‘Thee Stallion’. No spaces,”

“Got it. I’ll need that for my research,” he said. Lying is easier when you just tell the truth as a joke, thought Ethan.

“Looking to invest in a local, humble sex worker?”

“No, just trying to figure out how much money my friend makes from selling access to what type of pornography,”

“Okay, I’ll start with the less embarrassing part. I make about six thousand a month from posting: fourty-five hundred or so from monthly subscriptions and around two thousand from tips, used socks, custom videos, other fetishy content. Give or take a couple hundred,”

“Damn, that is definitely not embarrassing,”

“Nah, it’s tight. But I make… foot fetish videos,”

Ethan’s eyes got wide. “Damn, no way! I knew people liked feet, but I didn’t realize you could cash in like that without showing hole,” he lied. “I don’t think that’s embarrassing,”

Braeden laughed, “Well, I guess I don’t think of it like that as much anymore. I mean, the feet are where the money’s at. There’s just that connotation, you know? I got a couple foot people in my Instagram comments and DM’s freshman year of college. I thought it was super weird and just hid the comments at first. Then, some of them started offering money. I got talking to this one dude who bought pictures and he told me I should start a foot page or OnlyFans or something. Eventually, I did. It started as something to do for a little extra spending money, but the shit took off after a couple years of doing it. Now, I have this whole separate online foot master persona. When I graduated college, I just told my boss I was gonna take an extra two years for a graduate program and needed to stay part time. I do like 20 hours a week at the restaurant, but most of my money comes from the same amount of time doing stuff for the OnlyFans. If it keeps going well, I might just do it full time,”

“Damn, I don’t blame you if you’re making that much. Still, 20 hours a week? What takes so long?”

“Well, I’m counting going to the gym. I always wanted to go more during college anyway, and these foot dudes will pay for your used socks, sweaty underwear, videos of my feet in the gym mirror – they love that jock alpha shit. The more in shape I am, the more money I make. Filming and editing the videos takes some time, posting on Twitter, Instagram and OnlyFans regularly, responding to DM’s, video calls. I’ve had to coordinate a couple meetups with people to film videos. It’s all pretty fun, to be honest. I’ve gotten into it more than I ever thought I would. Plus, it’s way easier than finding a ‘real job’.”

“Honestly, dude, that’s sweet. If you like doing it and you can make that much with it, why not,” Ethan thought he was holding it together pretty well.

Relieved, Braeden reached over to slap Ethan’s hand and said, “Thanks, man! I’m honestly glad you asked. It feels good to tell somebody in real life,”

“Yeah, dude, glad you told me! I can’t believe I’ve been hanging out with a foot celebrity for all these years,”

“Y’know, since you reacted so cool, do you think you’d ever be willing to help me film some things? I can get most of it done on my own, but I’ve had to decline a few offers because I couldn’t film something right. I’d give you a quarter of the profit from whatever videos you help with,”

“Oh, sure, dude, whatever you need!” That felt too eager. “Well, maybe not anything,” he turned red and added, “but I can help you film for a little money,”

“Nothing too crazy, I just need somebody to film while I’m walking or moving or whatever. Or while somebody is licking my feet. You don’t have to get your tongue dirty if you don’t want to,” Braeden winked, his last sentence delivered with a bit of BraxTheeAlpha arrogance.

“I can help with the camera, I would need a bigger cut of the money to go that far,” Ethan laughed, his cheeks ripening still.

“Nah, I have plenty of people willing to do that part for free,”

“Clearly! They pay you just to look at them,”

“Exactly. You’ll have to do a lot more than lick my feet and help me film here and there to get a chunk of the BraxTheeAlpha empire,” Braeden’s joking condescension felt more genuine with each sentence.

Ethan felt compelled to follow this dominant streak to see where it might lead, but he couldn’t bring himself to submit to his friend like that. “Alrighty, if the all-powerful BraxTheeAlpha needs any help taking videos of his feet for horny men on the internet, he can let me know,” Ethan chided.

Braeden laughed hard at that and said, “For sure, man, I will,”

Ethan waited three days to subscribe to BraxTheeAlpha on OnlyFans after that. His username was EthanLovesToes, but his profile picture was of an anonymous man’s feet and his page contained no identifying information. The topic never came up between them, so Ethan assumed Braeden didn’t make the connection. The thought of telling Braeden about his foot fetish crossed Ethan’s mind pretty often once he knew about his profession. On one hand, he loved Braeden as a friend. They were both single, open-minded people, but they’d never had a sexual relationship at all. On top of that, Ethan wasn’t sure how much, if any, of Braeden’s motivation for running the page was sexual. At the same time, Ethan couldn’t help but think about the potential of getting more intimate with Braeden’s feet.

The first time Braeden asked for help was about two weeks after Ethan found out about BraxTheeAlpha. They were hanging out at Braeden’s apartment and about an hour in, Braeden told him that he either needed to leave within ten minutes or record somebody worshipping his feet. Ethan agreed to stay. The man was only there for about half an hour and Ethan, the only person there not wearing an elastic mask, was introduced as ‘Master’s friend and cameraman’. Although there was a dream scenario unfolding in front of him, Ethan’s focus was strictly on filming a good video; as much as he could, he tuned out the verbal admonishment Braeden’s sub was receiving. He knew he’d be able to watch the video later on, he figured, why risk popping a hardon? What if he got too horny and outed his fetish? When the man left the guys joked around about it for a bit, but Ethan changed the subject as soon as he could. Just keep saying yes, Ethan reasoned, even if you never do anything but help him film here and there, maybe an opportunity will present itself. Braeden asked him to help record a video of him walking barefoot in Carson Park the next week.

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“Speaking of not knowing what to say, try not to get weirded out by the dirty feet talk you’re about to hear. The dude who bought this video said don’t hold back on the humiliation,” said Braeden as he handed his phone back to Ethan, “That looks great, by the way. That would have been impossible for me to get alone,”

“All in a day’s work,” Ethan said with a coy smile.

“I’m impressed you know how these foot freaks like their videos. It took a lot of trial and error, and comments and DMs from horny foot dudes, for me to figure it out,”

“Heh, I guess I just have an artist’s eye,” Braeden laughed at that, and Ethan hoped that meant he played it off well.

“I’ll say,” he replied. “Okay, frame it so my feet are about center, and make sure it cuts off somewhere between my shoulders and neck,” Braeden dug around in his canvas tote until he found his microphone. “Oh, and feel free to move the camera around a little bit, but make sure stick around for a while on each angle. I need to get screenshots for the socials,”

“What a marketing king. Tell me when you’re ready,”

“Ready!”

“Okay – five, four, three, two,” he pointed at Braeden and hit record. Though he’d been scrunching his toes absentmindedly since he sat down, Braeden started exaggerating the stretches and wiggles for the camera.

He began, “I hope you knew what you were in for when you asked to clean my dirty feet, boy. These fuckers need a lot of TLC. You’re not finished until every inch is spotless,”

With that, Ethan brought the camera in close and swept the view across Braeden’s soles to show all the dirt some internet sub paid to imagine he was cleaning.

After a robust silence filled with a medley of teasing foot wiggles, Braeden continued, “It’s probably killing you that you can’t do anything about it. Helplessly masturbating behind a screen, knowing that a washcloth in my shower is going to receive the honor of revealing the smooth soles beneath this dirt instead of your tongue,”

He wasn’t kidding when he said he had gotten into this, Ethan thought. The first time he filmed, having to focus on shooting Braeden’s feet around some dude’s head helped keep him from getting into the content. Today, it was just him and the dirty soles of BraxTheeAlpha. Ethan pulled the camera back a bit. Taking his body with the phone, he lowered the camera below Braeden’s crossed soles. He made sure the shot was focused, then looked up at Braeden for the first time since the video began. The self-assured smile on his face made Ethan’s dick twitch. His eyes shot back at the phone.

“How sad. I’m sure you’re fucking leaking just imagining this dirt,” he rubbed his feet together, “sprinkling onto your pathetic face,” Braeden spat at the ground. The loogie landed less than a foot from Ethan’s face. “Loser,” Ethan looked for Braeden’s eyes after that line and found them staring back at him. Braeden maintained that cocky expression and resumed, “I mean, seriously. Aren’t you like 50 and married? And you’re paying some 23-year-old on OnlyFans $50 for two three-minute videos of his filthy feet? You could take that money and go spend a nice date night with your wife, or maybe save it up for a gift for her. Instead, you want to give it to me, so you can pound your piggy little cock looking at my fuckin’ feet,” Braeden laughed at the idea, “That’s incredible, truly. At this rate, I can’t imagine what you would pay me to come treat you like the dog you are in real life. You’d probably even let me fuck that wife of yours if I wanted to! For now, I’m happy just fucking your wallet,”

Despite the specificities, Ethan was just as hypnotized by the degradation as he imagined the cuck buying the video would be. He was fully hard by the end of the monologue and had to get creative to make his final camera angle shift without showing it. He backed the camera up as he moved into a squat, dick secure against his waistband, and panned the camera upward.

“Come back down here, bitch, I need you up close and personal. You have to kiss the soles gracing your screen before I finish up,” Albeit he was making eye contact before, this statement felt more like it was directed at the customer and the cameraman. He looked up to see Braeden smile and wink, then motion his head downward, eyebrows raised. Ethan did as he was instructed and sank back into his previous position.

“There you go. C’mon, even closer,” Ethan scooted forward, his hand now an inch from the evaporating loogie, “Now plant a big wet kiss on that screen, pig. Mhm, good boy,” Braeden raised his feet in the air, “Now wave goodbye! Oh, I forgot to mention, you owe me $25 if you came the first time through,”

Braeden set his feet down, but Ethan kept filming. He barely noticed Braeden was trying to wrap it up he was so fixated on the iPhone screen.

“Cut, buddy! That was over three minutes, right?”

Ethan scrambled to end the recording and check. He stammered, “Uh, yeah, it was 3:23,” and hopped to his feet. His brain was having trouble breaking out of BraxTheeAlpha’s enchantment.

“Sweet! I hope it wasn’t too weird that I was looking at you. It helped me get into the verbal, so thanks,” Braeden’s expression had softened some, but with his ankles crossed and soles facing him, he still carried a superior glow.

“Oh yeah, man, it was, uh, I mean, I sorta figured that,”

“Let me see the video, dude!”

Ethan handed him the phone and Braeden started skimming through. He brushed the dirt off his shirt. “I tried to get a couple different angles,”

“You did!” he said, scrubbing through, “I like it. And this last one will be great for the screenshots. Okay, great, let’s get out of here,” Braeden unclipped his microphone and returned it to the bag. After he pulled out his slides, he brushed the dirt off his soles and placed each foot in a sandal. “You good, dude? You’re kind of staring,”

“Yeah, um, I was just waiting for you,”

“Look man. If you’re not gonna say it, I need to ask – are you into feet?”

“How – what?”

“So yes, then,” Braeden paused for a response and continued when he didn’t get one, “It’s not a big deal! I love dudes with foot fetishes. I mean, I’ve made a career off the guys, for god’s sake,”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you; I didn’t want you to think me being into your feet was part of why we were friends or anything like that, but when you told me about this and asked for help, I couldn’t say no,”

“Oh, I could tell! I had absolutely no idea you were into feet before you were excited to help me film so quickly. I’d assume if you were perving on my feet before that, you would have done something creepy already,”

“You knew that long ago?”

“Well, no, but that was the first little clue. Then, I thought it was a funny coincidence that somebody called EthanLovesToes subscribed to me just a few days after I told you about the page,”

“I figured that Ethan’s a common name…”

“Right, so did I. I didn’t even think much of it when that worship video turned out so good, because I figured the idea of filming the feet and not the head was pretty easy. It was when the video of my soles walking was so perfect. It took forever for me to get how I should film for the OnlyFans. After that, it all sort of came together in my brain. So, during the video, I made sure to pay attention to how you were reacting. When I say visibly horny, I need you to know just how much I mean that,”

Ethan’s face burned through his shy smile. “I was trying so hard to hide it!” he said, and Braeden laughed.

“Well,” Braeden stood up and walked over to Ethan, “there’s not a ton of great ways to hide that,” he said, pointing to the vertical lump in Ethan’s shorts.

“Listen,”

“Let’s walk back to the car. I have way too many ideas, and as much as you love my feet, I don’t know if you want the world to see those ideas,”

“Okay…” of course, Ethan was going to follow. He just couldn’t find any words. He would pay good money to watch the porno flick that he was living and breathing. The two started back toward the parking lot, toward a situation too good to be true.

“Do you have any other plans today, bud?”

“Um, not really. I was just gonna go play some games when we were done hanging,”

“Perfect! What game are you playing right now?”

“Oh, nothing new, just Dota,”

Braeden kept the small talk going as Ethan tried to make sure this was all still real. He wasn’t dumb; he knew Braeden finding out was a possibility. What he couldn’t believe was how perceptive he had been. The boner was a bit of a giveaway, but it sounded like Braeden knew before that. Regardless, judging by his reaction, Ethan should have drooled over them from the start.

As the driver’s side door closed, Ethan opened his door. By the time he was sitting, Braeden’s dirtied feet were hovering above the seat. He waited to get in and looked at his friend behind the wheel.

“Go on and sit down, Ethan! If at any point I go too far, say ‘banana’, and we can split,”

“Very clever safe word,” he said, sliding underneath his feet. There wasn’t much loose dirt left sticking to them, but his soles were still stained brown. “I never thought I’d say something like that to you,” Ethan chuckled.

“Same here, but sexy times call for sexy measures! Here’s the deal, Ethan: BraxTheeAlpha has been growing, but I haven’t been able to find the extra time to spend on it. I’m gaining followers, but I know if I were posting more often, and added new types of content, I could grow even faster and net more money from that growth. That’s where I see you coming in. Start massaging my feet if you’re intrigued,”

Ethan let hardly a second pass before he grabbed Braeden’s left foot and began to rub.

“Great! So, it’s been a struggle to find anyone because, while I make good money, I don’t make enough to lop off a living wage to pay somebody to help me out,” Ethan switched to Braeden’s right foot, “The only subs I talk to online who I think would do it for, let’s say alternative compensation, live too far away for that to be possible. Pop my right big toe in your mouth and start sucking if you see where I’m going and want to hear what I have in mind,”

This time, Ethan hesitated. Braeden just raised his eyebrows and waited, pointing the toe toward him. Timidly, Ethan leaned forward. He let his lips rest on the top of Braeden’s toe for a moment before he welcomed it into his mouth.

“I want you to record and edit all my pictures and videos,” Braeden began, maintaining eye contact as Ethan listened to his potential duties and swirled his tongue around the big toe. “We can schedule one or two times a week to record. I’ll still come up with some ideas for content, but I definitely want your input. You’ll manage my Instagram, Twitter and OnlyFans as well. Still interested, Ethan?”

He nearly spat Braeden’s toe out before he realized he wasn’t given a new command. Ethan nodded.

“Good – you had the right idea, left big toe now,”

Ethan’s right hand kept a grip on Braeden’s sole as he pulled the cleaned toe from his mouth. He used his other hand to bring his left toe to his mouth for the same treatment.

“Each new video, unless it’s a custom, needs to have a preview posted. I’ll leave editing them down to your discretion, just make sure it’s hard to cum without the full video,” Ethan laughed through the toe at that requirement. Braeden smiled and reasoned, “It’s good business!”

He took the toe out of his mouth but left his lips brushing against the bottom. “Hey, you’re the expert, I believe you,” said Ethan. When he finished speaking, he put it back in to signal Braeden to continue.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he snickered, “Sometimes I’ll just do a photoshoot – I like those to be between 15 and 20 pictures. Post one to four on Twitter and Instagram. For either video or photo previews, use the OnlyFans caption for the post and link the OnlyFans in the replies on Twitter and on Instagram Stories. I’d imagine you’re still in – start giving my other toes some love if I’m right,”

With a smack, Ethan removed the big toe and eyed up the second. First, he darted his tongue in the space between the toes. Satisfied it was clean, he engulfed the second toe and looked back toward Braeden.

“Ethan, I think you may be the man for this job,” Ethan smiled and started cleaning between Braeden’s second and third toe. “A couple more things, though. Like I said, I’ll still come up with ideas for videos, but I want you to compile any ideas or custom requests you find in my replies or my DM’s. Bring them to our recording sessions, as well as any messages or comments you think I might want to respond to personally. I’ll start signing the posts and replies that come directly from me,” he paused and waited for Ethan to look up from sucking the life out of his middle-left toe. “I hope you’re listening,” Ethan nodded, “and I hope you remember I have two more toes on this foot alone,” Braeden teased.

“The thought of it is making it a bit harder to focus,” Ethan admitted.

“You should have plenty of quality time with them to come,” Braeden said, and Ethan slipped his tongue in between the third and fourth toe, “but we have an interview to finish before I offer you this gig,”

“Fair enough, fire away,” Ethan said as he dove onto the fourth toe. He felt Braeden’s pinkie toe wiggling against his cheek.

“I also want you to respond to some of the spammy DM’s and comments. You’re a foot guy, I’m sure you’ll figure that out quickly. I think that’s it for the job description, let’s talk compensation,”

Ethan finished scrubbing between Braeden’s final two toes and said, “I hope I’m getting a preview of the employee benefits right now,” he said, finally taking the pinkie toe in and sucking.

“You read my mind! Specifically, if you don’t feel comfortable being on camera, I’m willing to offer an hour a week after a recording session for you to have your way with them as payment,”

With a sloppy, deliberate slurp, Ethan pulled all five of the toes on Braeden’s left foot out of his mouth and asked, “Can I start sucking the toes on your other foot to find out what I get if I am willing to be on video?” Braeden grinned and nodded, and Ethan dove in.

“I knew I sensed something special in you! Not every video will be a worship video, but a hell of a lot of them will be. If you want to wear a mask, you’re more than welcome. Of course, let me know if a video brushes up on a limit. On top of the private foot worship, I’ll throw in a cut of the profits. If I can make $7k a month, I can quit the restaurant and not lose any money. Anything I make beyond that is yours until we get to a 50/50 split. If you agree to that, I want both of my big toes in your mouth,”

Although he wasn’t even done with the third toe, Ethan couldn’t comply with Braeden’s demand faster. He started sucking both toes and Braeden pinched his cheeks with his big toes and second toes and pulled Ethan in towards him.

“This is going to be a very fun situation for the both of us,” he sneered and pulled his toes out of Ethan’s mouth. Braeden tapped his cheek firmly with the sole of his foot. “I’ll write up an official contract for us to sign next time we meet up,” he said. Ethan started to respond, but Braeden shushed him and placed both soles over his face. He continued, “I’ve been pretty cordial with this so far, but there’s one aspect I haven’t touched. You’re going to have to get comfortable with submitting to me on a regular basis. Nod if you understand,”

After Ethan nodded, Braeden extended his legs and pushed his head back until it was against the window.

“Start licking my soles,” Ethan opened his mouth wide and wiped his tongue against every square inch he could reach in his compromised position. Braeden continued, “We can still be friends, but this arrangement will be more intense than just friends with benefits. Outside of filming sessions, I’ll still call you Ethan and you can call me Braeden. We can hang out and play games! I also want our correspondence during the week about posting to remain professional. However, during filming sessions, from the second you walk in my door until we’re done filming, I will expect a total shift in the power dynamic. You will address me as either Sir or Master, and I will call you whatever demeaning name I see fit. I’ll establish an itinerary before the session, which will begin with your list of custom requests and video suggestions, and we will remain in our Dom and sub roles until the itinerary is complete. Between filming actual videos, I will expect you to remain subservient. You will be instructed to complete tasks outside of what will be posted online. For at least eight hours a week – no mandatory overtime, but there will probably be requests – you will be mine. Since you have tonight free, that begins right now. If you understand, hold my legs up and start licking the rest of my soles clean, boy,”

“Yes, sir,” said Ethan. He took Braeden’s calves in his hands and pulled them from his face, but before he could continue cleaning, his Master delivered a swift slap to his right cheek with his sole. The kick came with far more force than the tap he had just received.

“Remember the safe word, boy, and make sure you thank me when I give you a command,”

“Yes, Sir, thank you, Master,�� if it weren’t for his stinging face, Ethan would have pinched himself. With a new fervor from the hit, he dove back in to continue sucking the dirt off Braeden’s soles.

“Good piggy. You’re even more of a duck to water than I’d have thought,” he lifted his foot slightly and bent his toes toward him. Instantly, Ethan started sucking his heel and Braeden laughed. “A duck to water,” he repeated, still chuckling, “I can’t believe I missed out on this for five years,”

Once the heel he’d been offered was clean, Ethan moved Braeden’s feet to the side and said, “Thank you, Sir, I’m so excited to get started.

Braeden giggled and raised his feet back up, “That’s how I know this is going to work out,” he said, then pointed the other heel toward Ethan, who promptly took it upon himself to begin cleaning, “you learned from that slap. Plus, you’re already picking up on those nonverbal cues,” Braeden paused for a moment and Ethan kept licking. Dissatisfied, he took his other foot and slapped Ethan’s left cheek.

“Sorry, Sir. Thank you for the compliment, Master,” Ethan rushed in response before returning to his task. It wasn’t as hard as the first, but still plenty strong enough to relay the message.

“I might have spoken too soon! Try to learn from the slap this time. Now that I’ve got your verbal agreement, we can move onto some foot sub training. It might be a little painful, but I’ll try to avoid visible bruises,”

“Respectfully, Sir, that would be a banana,” Ethan said softly between licks.

“Fair enough, boy, I figured as much. Glad you said it. Though, it’s not gonna be smooth sailing,” he said. To make his point, he took his foot out of Ethan’s mouth and twisted his nipple with his toes through his shirt, causing him to yelp. “Work on cleaning the other foot if you understand,”

Ethan thanked his Master and pulled Braeden’s right foot to his face. Once the toes Ethan hadn’t gotten to clean already were in his mouth, Braeden let go of his nipple.

“Fantastic,” Braeden pulled out his phone and scrolled for a minute while Ethan worked on getting his spotless. The heels and toes were looking clean, so Ethan moved on to the side of Braeden’s right foot. He lowered his phone and gazed out the window, then said, “Sun’s gonna set in about 20 minutes, which means the park’s gonna close. My feet should be clean enough to put back in my sandals by then. If they’re not, you’ll drive me home, get in your car and leave to go edit and send the videos we just made. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so unless you have plans you absolutely can’t get out of, I’ll expect you at seven A.M. sharp to start filming. Well, we’ll start filming time – I’ll have a list of chores and a key under the mat. That should keep you busy until you wake me up at nine to start your, oh, I guess we can call it an orientation,”

“Thank you, Sir,” said Ethan, speaking between licks more fervent than before, “but what if I do have them clean before the park closes?”

“Well, you’d avoid your first real punishment, and playing Dota tonight would turn into some of the more fun parts of that orientation I talked about. I have another custom request to film and a video idea of my own,”

“Perfect, Master, I’ll try to get these cleaned to your liking as hard as I can,”

“That’s the spirit, Feethan!”

Ethan laughed and said, “That’s cute, Sir,”

“Get licking; be a foot scrubber now so you don’t have to be a toilet scrubber later,” Braeden demanded. He turned a playlist on and closed his eyes.

Get licking he did. He wasn’t really worried about the time limit – Braeden’s feet were so close to cleaned. It would be a labor of love to get them across the finish line. Ethan began with the right foot. He gathered as much spit as he could and slobbered it from top to bottom.

Compared to some of the feet Ethan had cleaned, Braeden’s feet weren’t even all that dirty. They were so smooth, and he normally kept them clean, so most of the dirt came away with a few licks. The guy would need to be barefoot a lot longer to challenge Ethan’s veteran tongue. He had the dirtiest spots excavated by the time his Master finished breaking down his new sub role. Now, he just needed to lap up what he missed, which meant he got to explore every inch of Braeden’s sole over and over again. He scrubbed some spots with his tongue. Each problem area would meet Ethan’s circling tongue while his lips sucked at the skin. When he figured he had it clean, he would release the sole and make sure he left only flesh remaining with a final lap. Meticulously, he went about spot checking the right foot for about five minutes in this way. Taking a minute or two to ensure the tops sparkled as the soles did, he then wiped the excess moisture onto his cheek, figuring he wouldn’t be allowed to use his shirt. He finished Braeden’s left foot even faster and used the same cheek method to dry it. Ethan gave them both a final once-over. He glanced out the windshield to check where the sun was at, then back to the feet. Reasoning that his tongue was probably dirtier than the soles at this point, he lowered Braeden’s feet to his chest with the sun inches from the horizon.

“I believe they’re clean, Master, would you like to check?”

“Obviously, boy,” Braeden turned the music down and flipped the overhead light on. His left leg supported by the foot on Ethan’s chest, he grabbed his right foot and crossed it over his knee. Flexing his ankle in every direction, Braeden made a show of inspecting for dirt. He spread his toes and peered between them. Finally, he said, “One down, one to go,” When he switched feet, instead of placing his right foot on Ethan’s chest, he opted for his face. Smothered sideways against the window, Ethan had to listen for the cue that would mean the difference between continuing an unimaginable night at his friend and Master’s feet and a night of homework into an early morning of chores.

“Thank you, Sir,” Ethan managed to say through squished lips. He figured a little gratitude wouldn’t hurt his chances.

“Don’t get used to this, but thank you, pig. You managed to snarf that dirt up so well, I don’t need to shower tonight. Which means you don’t have to do my chores until you screw something else up!”

“Oh, good, Master, thank you! I’m so glad I did well,” he said, still moving his mouth from between foot and glass. Mercifully, Braeden released him. He slipped on his sandals and opened his door.

“Okay, loser, when we’re on filming time, I don’t drive. If I’d known this was gonna happen today, I would have made you drive me in your car. You didn’t know either, so you don’t need to pay for my gas this time. But from here on out, filming time equals your gas,”

“Understood, Sir, thank you for allowing me to drive you,”

“Goddamn, dude, I love that you’re this much of a pig. Thanking me for letting you drive me? That’s dope,” He grabbed his crotch and said, “Y’know, if it’s in bounds, you’re being such a good boy that feet might not be the only thing you suck tonight,”

“Thank you, Master, that is well within bounds. I would be lucky to get to pleasure you like that,”

“You sure would be! But I’m getting ahead of myself. Hop in the driver’s seat and let’s get going. We have a great night ahead of us,”

“Yes, Sir, my pleasure!”

Let me know what you thought of what is potentially part one of BraxTheeAlpha! Probably won't start on a part two for my next story, as I want to write about some different scenario with a foot related Dom/sub dynamic. If you have any good premises, send those in as well!

#gayfeet #gayfootmasters #malefeet #foot world #gayfootlover

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queerfootfella · 2 years ago

Text

Drew and Joshua 2.0:

——————————————————————————

Drew Anderson raced into the parking lot adjacent to his first class of the day, the first class of his second-to-last semester of college, with only three minutes to get there. He adjusted the collar of his rib knit white polo as he scanned the lot for spaces. After whipping into the first empty stall he saw, Drew had hardly put his car in park before he was sprinting toward room 143. Slaps of firm rubber on tile reverberated off the walls of the hallway rang out and slowed as he approached his classroom. Once he took a few moments to quiet his breathing, he entered.

“And you might be?” Drew hadn’t even taken a step into the room before he was given the attention of the entire class.

“Drew Anderson,” he replied, hand still on the doorknob. The professor looked down at his class list, muttering the name to himself.

“Drew Anderson. I know many classes begin at five after the hour, but mine begins at 10 am on the dot. I presume today was a misunderstanding?” Drew couldn’t tell if the joke was meant to be lighthearted or embarrassing.

“Yes sir,” said Drew, reflexively lowering his head. A laugh was muffled from somewhere in the room, turning him bright red.

“Well, close the door and find a seat, though you’re not exactly spoiled for choice at this hour.” To Drew’s chagrin, the only open seat was in the direction of the giggling he heard. Humiliation became relief when Drew recognized Joshua grinning at him beside the open seat.

Drew and Joshua ‘met’ in high school, though the two rarely spoke. They graduated with a class of over 1000 students, so it was easy to avoid one another. Drew was 5’10” and slightly chubby in high school with short, curly hair. Though he was shy and friendless in middle school, he discovered musical theater in high school, came out, and formed a personality. By the time he graduated, Drew had decided on an engineering degree over studying theater. He was nervous he’d go back to having no friends in college.

Joshua Addams was different. 6’3”, size 13 feet and athletic, he was the premier point guard not only at his own school, but in the whole conference. In high school, he was at every party Drew made fun of while smoking weed with his theater friends. He consistently dated the prettiest girls in the school and elicited more attention shooting a free throw than Drew could have if he threw himself a parade.

However, this adolescent hierarchy never stopped Joshua from being nice to Drew, or any other ‘weird’ kid, if they ever interacted in school. That kindness got Drew’s attention — in more ways than one. A shared gym class and the blessing of alphabetical order cast Joshua as a series regular in Drew’s jack-off fantasies, which generally centered around Joshua’s feet, and what they might feel like covering his face. Counter to the ideas Drew came up with alone in bed, the two graduated having exchanged nothing more than occasional pleasantries.

On his first day of college at the U of M, Drew was surprised to see Joshua sitting near the front his Calculus II lecture. He had never taken Joshua for an idiot, but Drew didn’t figure he would test into the same math class, either. By the same alphabetic grace that brought the boys in gym locker proximity, Drew and Joshua sat next to each other for a semester of Calc II.

The longtime acquaintances first connected over a shared tendency to be late. Soon after, Drew found that Joshua, too, would kiss up to his teachers to make up for it. Their professor nicknamed them “The Tardy Boys” during one of their many run-ins late into his office hours, where they learned they were both engineering majors. Walking to their cars together after class became studying together, which became eating lunch together, which became going to parties together; by Christmas break, they hung out at each others’ childhood houses as much as they could. They rented a house with mutual friends – another guy and two girls – their sophomore year. Junior year, and now into Senior year, Joshua lived with a couple of his teammates, and Drew stayed in a three-bedroom apartment with the two girls. Blessed with the biggest room, Drew’s couch became a fourth bedroom in the apartment, reserved for Joshua if the two up late studying, or if Joshua was sick of doing jock things.

Drew had more or less grown out of his fixation on Joshua’s feet. They’d gotten far too close for Drew to feel comfortable fantasizing about it. Though he knew better than to let his mind wander too far, he would sneak glances when he could, and always appreciated a beach trip in the summer. One night, both boys drunk and probably high, Joshua demanded a foot massage. Drew made sure to make a grand showing of his reluctance before complying, casually putting a pillow on his lap and silently allowing himself to make an exception on his masturbation fantasy rule for this. Maybe several.

As Drew sat and the attention of the other students toward him faded, Joshua muttered, “Sick entrance,”

“Fuck you. Wanna come over tonight? Empty house, so you don’t have to watch The Bachelor with the girls and the gay,”

“Hell yes. The roomies are going to the bars, and I don’t feel like hunting for pussy all night,”

“Good. I would like to get too stoned to move,”

“Awww. Did Dwew get a widdwe stwessed fwom being late?” teased Joshua in an exaggerated toddler voice, a years old inside joke between them.

“Dwew is stiw sweating,” His baby voice was less enthusiastic; he leered at the professor to make sure he wasn’t in for more criticism.

“I think you should be calling me ‘Sir’?” Joshua whispered, sneering.

“I think you should suck my fucking balls and stop talking to me,” Drew replied. They laughed and started paying attention to the lecture they’d surely need to follow up on in office hours together.

Three heavy raps on the front door startled Drew while he was studying the craftsmanship of the joint he rolled. Joshua told Drew he would be over at 7:30. At 8:30, Drew set the joint down and walked out of his room toward the front door, opening it to the smiling face of his friend.

“Hey! Sorry I took so long,” Joshua claimed, though Drew knew he was the only one of them who felt any guilt about his chronic tardiness.

“It’s all good. Make yourself at home,” he assured his friend as they walked back into his room.

“I will. It looks like you were just on my bed,” said Joshua, gesturing to the couch Drew had gotten up from.

“Shit. I forgot to make it,”

“It’s fine. As long as you tuck me in tonight,”

“It would be my honor,” replied Drew with mock adulation. Drew sometimes wondered if these types of playful, lightly domineering jokes meant anything. Regardless, he always played along. “Do you want a beer?”

“I thought we were smoking weeeeeeed, bro,” Joshua cried in a voice out of a surfing move.

“I don’t wanna, like, get hammered, bro,” Drew said, mimicking the voice, “but I got some sick brewski’s from Hannah for my birthday and we should, like, have one,” he said, and left for the kitchen as Joshua said something about how, like, actually, that sounded pretty tubular.

When Drew returned to his room, two uncapped beers in his left hand, Joshua had his shoes off and was scrolling through his phone with his back against the armrest of the couch, legs placed straight in front of him, feet a half a cushion away from where Drew had left his phone. Drew picked up the phone and sat back where he had been, the soles of Joshua’s socked feet inches from his left thigh. Briefly noting an unwanted notification from some foot dom he had been talking with, he made a mental note to change those settings and placed both beers on the table, exchanging them with the tightly packed joint and a Bic. Placing the filter between his lips, he flicked the lighter, inhaled and passed the gateway drug to Joshua. As they smoked, they talked about what to watch, and by the time the filter was smoldering in the ashtray, both boys were deeply engrossed in a YouTube playlist of music videos. Drew kicked his own shoes off and propped his feet on the coffee table, reclining at an angle which allowed him to sneak a peek or two at the feet beside him when he checked his phone. Dull lamp light crept out from under the door of his bedroom, but the T.V. provided the only other illumination, aside from occasional text message notifications and replies.

Following some ten minutes of silence, Joshua lifted his left foot and started to peel his sock off. Drew was having a hard enough time with his socks on; he strained to get a glimpse without turning his head. The right sock was methodically stripped as well, and Joshua tossed them both on the floor beside the couch.

“Hope you don’t mind,” said Joshua, absentmindedly wiggling and scrunching his toes, “but it’s so fucking hot outside, and we practiced for like three hours today.”

Drew jumped. He was starting to stare. “It’s all good, bro. It still smells more like weed than anything in here,” he replied with a laugh, shifting his feet to the edge of the coffee table to conceal an escalating situation.

“Are you positive? I can smell my socks from here,” he said matter-of-factly. “If you want, I can wash my feet quick,”

“It’s legitimately fine, dude,” replied Drew indifferently, or so he hoped, “I can’t smell anything.”

“Well, in that case,” Joshua said, trailing off, “Look over there!” he called, pointing in the opposite direction. Drew rolled his eyes and rolled his head away from Joshua and immediately felt the soft thud of a balled-up sock against the back of his head. He turned back and picked up the sock, pump-faked it, and threw it back. It his Joshua square in the nose: right on target. Joshua ripped the sock off his face and threw it on the floor with a mix of faux and genuine disgust. “There’s no way you ‘don’t mind’ that, dog, seriously,” said Joshua.

“I don’t know what to tell ya,” said Drew, emphasizing his exasperation. He knew he should just say something about the show they were watching, or about school, or anything. ‘Oh, I forgot to tell you: something something something,’ was as much as his brain could muster. The only coherent thing that came to mind was, “I mean, I can smell them, but it’s not, like, bad enough that you need to get away from me or go wash your feet or anything,”

Joshua thought for a few seconds. “Okay. Well. I did say I had a long, grueling, practice today…”

“What about it?” Drew was pretty certain Joshua was teasing him, now. However, he wanted to salvage his foot fetish deniability for as long as possible.

“When you’re running around a lot, not only do your feet get smelly,” Joshua said, “even if they’re not bad enough to go wash your feet or anything-” Drew rolled his eyes again at that, “they also get sore,”

“Ah,” said Drew. The last time this happened they were both drunk, and Drew thought (hoped) Joshua didn't remember the incident. He had begged for a foot massage in the joke baby voice for minutes, what felt like hours to his foot obsessed friend. Even if he did remember, Drew always assumed it would be as the joke he pretended it was. This time, he would only insinuate that he wanted a foot rub. Suddenly, Drew's face flushed a deep red. 'The fucking notification,' he thought.

“Yeah,”

“That’s a problem,”

“Sure is,” Joshua was too confident for this not to be a game and Drew was too nervous to end it. A silence fell. The deep toe stretches and foot fidgeting Joshua had been doing were driving Drew insane.

“Do you want a foot rub?” Drew felt like his mouth alone formed the words and hurled them out before his brain had a say.

“Oh man, that would be awesome,” Joshua said. Sinking further into the couch, he extended his feet into Drew’s lap before he could find a pillow to put there. Joshua’s feet were side-by-side, now resting on his inner-left thigh. Up to this point, the nerves had kept his dick more or less at bay. Now with Joshua’s heels on his leg, soles right pointed toward it, he knew he would have to proceed with caution.

“No problem, man, we’re just sitting here anyway,” Joshua let out a giggle at Drew continuing to front like he wasn't into this. Already, Drew was too entranced to notice. To give him easier access to the feet in his lap, he lowered his legs to the floor. In the same motion he shifting his growing cock between his stomach and waistband. He hoped Joshua didn’t notice the maneuver as he began massaging his left foot. From his vantage point, he was able to watch the sole of Joshua’s right foot as it scrunched and rotated while he massaged the left. He kneaded his thumbs into the warm, soft flesh of Joshua’s sole in strong and deliberate circles on his arches. He maintained the motion down the length of his feet to his heel. After he dug extra hard into his heel, Drew worked his fingers back up the gorgeous sole. Below the long, succulent toes his tongue craved, he pressed his thumbs deeply into the balls of his feet as he had the heel. Just the texture had him mesmerized. The way his soles melted into his hands. He finally reached Joshua’s toes, rolling each toe generously between his fingers. Satisfied with his toes for the time being, he ran his thumbs and hands repeatedly up the length of Joshua’s foot. An occasional sigh from the other end of the couch told Drew he was doing well.

Now massaging his right foot, the top of his left one was no longer hidden behind Drew's arm. He noted how beautiful the veins were, how they were perfectly pronounced. He liked how Joshua’s big toe had a small tuft of hair on it, and how his toes wiggled too slightly to tell if it was intentional. He thought the arch of Joshua’s foot was perfect. It wasn’t incredibly high, but it was pronounced. His toes were long and stunning, with nails cut short. Of course, Drew lied through his teeth about the smell. The aroma of a three-hour basketball practice was unavoidable, and Drew delighted in every breath.

“Enjoying yourself?” For the second time that night, Drew was startled out of a trance. This time though, he had no idea how long he had been staring. Joshua waited for a reply, and Drew tried his hardest to stammer out anything, but all he could do was stare back at Joshua, his feet still in his hands. Joshua continued, “I thought you might take a drink or two of your beer or make some conversation, but you’ve been transfixed,”

“Um, I’m, um, sorry…” muttered Drew, dropping Joshua’s gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re sorry about, it feels fucking phenomenal,” replied Joshua.

“Oh, uh, I don’t, uh…”

“It’s cool that you’re into feet, man. It’s been fun teasing you, though. Could I have gone longer? Sure. Could I have just never brought this up again? That would have been pretty funny, yeah. But clearly you love this somehow even more than I do,”

“How do you know?”

“Know what?”

“Fuck you,”

“I saw your phone when you went to the kitchen. I thought it would be fun to just get you to rub my feet and see if you ever balls-ed up and told me. But… I also know that foot worship is a thing, and since you’re clearly super into feet,” Joshua playfully tapped Drew’s nose to accentuate the point, “I’m extremely curious what it feels like,”

“You want me to worship your feet?” Drew clarified in disbelief. Drew had so effectively eliminated Joshua from his sexual fantasies. Now, he would be a staple, and Drew didn’t know what to feel. A lot of Drew’s guilt hinged on the assumption that Joshua would be creeped out by sexual interest from a friend. That line might be more flexible than he had imagined. He took a deep breath and told himself to let Joshua lead the way.

“I think more accurately, you want to worship my feet,” said Joshua, again tapping his nose for emphasis.

“What makes you think your feet are so special?” said Drew, leaning into the teasing.

“Other than the hypnosis that just happened? Maybe this?” Joshua said, as he took his foot and lightly slapped Drew’s erection through his waistband.

“You got me there,” said Drew, snatching the foot back into his hand.

“Well? Get started then,” Drew didn’t need any more direction. Feeling emboldened, he lifted Joshua’s left foot by the ankle with his right hand, bringing the heel to his mouth. He extended his tongue and licked slowly up the length of Joshua’s still sweaty foot until he reached his toes. He kissed his big toe before gobbling it all the way into his mouth. Bobbing up and down, he swirled his tongue around the diameter, noting every detail. With a pop, he let the toe out of his mouth and shifted his lips and tongue to the ball of his foot. Planting a kiss in that area, he savored the salty sole with his tongue before moving his attention elsewhere. Slurping kisses led him down the sole of Joshua's foot and to his heel. Once his lips arrived, he took all that he could between them and licked the surface. When he deemed the heel had been given its due, he ran his mouth up the side of his foot and took Joshua’s pinkie toe in his mouth. He sucked on it, took it out, stuck his tongue out and swirled it around the toe. Although he had not been instructed to do so, he was intent on making sure his feet would be sparkling when he was done. Drew repeated this action with all of Joshua’s toes, taking care to give each one an equal amount of attention and to clean between each toe, before engulfing them all at once. His tongue darted between toes and glided over each well-polished digit, which Joshua would wiggle from time to time. Once he had spent enough time on the toes, he took his tongue back to Joshua’s soles, alternating between kisses and firm strokes of the tongue.

Most of the time, Drew’s gaze was fixed on one of the beautiful feet in front of him. When he would glance up, he caught Joshua adjusting himself a couple times, eyes trained on Drew. His face would alternate between a cocky smirk and an expression of pleasure. After Drew felt he had spent enough time on the left foot – he wondered if he had spent more time massaging or worshipping the foot – he moved to the right foot. While Drew had never worshipped Joshua’s feet before, the same couldn’t be said of many Minneapolis area gay men. Drew took pride in his ability to worship feet. It wasn’t exactly something for a dating profile, but he had learned that he was charismatic enough to get partners to try it, and good enough that he wouldn’t have to be the one to bring it up a second time. Clearly the effect wasn’t limited to gay men. Judging from the frequent glances down at Drew, Joshua liked the power dynamic as well as the physical sensation of having his feet worshipped. Drew was ecstatic about that. While he would have been over the moon to simply get the opportunity to worship Joshua’s feet, the fact that he also got off on dominating Drew was almost too much to bear.

Drew was certain it had been longer than the massage when Joshua spoke again. This time, there was a more serious tone to his voice. Not angry, but expectant. “Get down on the floor,”

“What for?” said Drew, not quite sure how to respond to this shift from mischief to assertiveness.

“For because I said so,” said Joshua. He winked with the cocky, assertive smile he had worn proudly over the past couple hours.

Drew nodded, resisted the urge to call him ‘sir’, and silently got down on the ground. From there, he saw Joshua swing his feet off the couch and onto his face. Once Drew was in the requested position, Joshua leaned forward to grab the grinder and the pipe Drew had left on the table and began to rub his feet back and forth across Drew’s face, pressing firmly. He began packing a bowl, or at least, that's what Drew figured. It was difficult to see anything from below Joshua’s spit-coated feet. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard the flick of a lighter. He almost pinched himself to see if he was dreaming, but thought any stimulation anywhere else on his body might cause him to cum spontaneously. He began kissing and licking the feet being wiped on his face, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

After the bowl was finished, Joshua set down the pipe. He adjusted himself slightly on the couch before he lifted up his left foot and moved it to Drew’s crotch. For the first time that night, Drew audibly gasped. Joshua let out the sexiest snicker Drew had heard in his life as Joshua began rubbing his hard-on with his foot. Most of it was still in his pants, but about an inch was poking out of the top. Once Joshua started stroking, Drew took his right foot in both of his hands and devoured his sole.

Before long, Drew couldn’t take it any longer. With one hand, he pressed Joshua’s right foot into his face. With the other, he pushed his left foot more firmly into his crotch and began to hump along with the motion of Joshua’s stroke. Not a minute later, he shot rope after rope from out the top of his waistband, leaving his shirt soaked in cum. After some time, he realized he was panting and worked to even his breath.

“That was so fucking hot,” said Drew, voice muffled by the foot still on his face, his other foot now playing withthe jizz near his dick. Drew started to form an apology in his head about boundaries as he removed the foot from his face, only to see Joshua’s dick busted out of his unzipped jeans.

Looking down and slowly stroking himself, Joshua said, “I’ve never even thought about guys before, but I fucking agree. We can talk about it later, but I need to cum right now,” Joshua bent down and put his hand behind Drew’s back, pulling him up toward his dick. Drew grabbed the hard shaft with his right hand and took the balls in his left. He leaned over and put Joshua’s balls into his mouth, one by one, swirling each around with his tongue. He then slowly licked up the length of Joshua’s cock, tasting precum as he neared the head. Breaking eye contact for the first time since he took Joshua’s balls out of his mouth, Drew went down on Joshua’s dick. At first, he moved up and down on only the first two or three inches of what was at least a seven-inch cock, his hand doing the rest of the work. He swirled his tongue around the head. Joshua's toes had been good practice. When he was satisfied with his teasing, the first time Drew had been the one with an opportunity to tease his friend that night, he began taking Joshua’s cock further and further into his throat at a faster and faster pace. Eventually, Drew only needed his forefinger and thumb around the base of Joshua’s cock as he bobbed his head up and down, feeling it in the back of his throat with each thrust.

Not long after Drew increased his pace did Joshua’s hands find their way to Drew’s head. At first, he let his hands go with the rhythm Drew had established, idly playing with his hair. Soon, Joshua began to thrust his hips. Subtle at first, then harder, then vigorously. His hands had found the appropriate patches of hair to latch onto, and Drew's only task became keeping his throat open and his teeth covered. As Joshua grew closer, a new moan came with each thrust, and with each thrust the moans became louder.

“I’m coming,” Joshua gasped, and Drew used the warning to shove his cock even deeper into his throat. True to his word, Joshua buried Drew's nose in his pubes and lined his throat with cum. The motion of his hips slowed as Drew swallowed his reward.

With one final suck, Drew withdrew from Joshua’s softening dick. Both guys sat in silence for a moment before the start of a fresh music video on the long-forgotten T.V. snapped them out of their foot sweat and jizz haze.

“Well, I hope that was as fun for you as it was for me,” said Drew, beginning to remove his soiled clothes. Joshua looked on in silence, searching for words. “I hope it’s fine to change in front of you.” He began toward his closet and added with a smirk, “Feels like we crossed that threshold at least one orgasm ago.”

“Yeah, no, we did,” said Joshua, silent for a moment before he let out a short chuckle. “That. Was wild,”

“It sure was! I won’t tell anybody if you don’t,”

Joshua considered that. “Cool,” More silence. “I would do that again if you would,” he said, uncharacteristically apprehensive.

Drew laughed. Making Joshua cum had relived any remaining reservations he had about the night. “How’s it feel to be the awkward one?”

“Fuck off! You have a bit more experience, foot boy,”

“And soon you will, too. I usually get a good reaction, but damn. I don’t know if I’ll need to eat breakfast tomorrow after that load,” Joshua blushed. “I’m available for foot service at any time, sir,” Drew said with a wink.

Laughing, Joshua threw a pillow at Drew, hitting his bare butt before he could pull a new pair of underwear over the area. With a sigh, Joshua admitted, “I guess you have a point. That felt incredible,”

“Couldn’t agree more! Now, if you would be so kind as to pack me another bowl, I would like to destroy somebody in Rocket League,”

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Still no brand new story, but this was a quicker way to get back into the foot erotica spirit. I wrote this back in November 2021 for the Free Stories contest on MyFriendsFeet. I wanted to give the writing a bit of a touch-up and scrub my archives for visuals to accompany the story. No, the lighting doesn't match what I describe in the story. Yes, the pictures are of my feet on two different couches. Fuck you for noticing. Mind your business.

#malefeet #gayfeet #gayfootmasters #gayfootlover #foot world

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