SMELLY MALE FEET: A Gay Man Worshipping a Straight Guy's Soles

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Since poor Robert did not have many attractive men in his life as he was growing up, he became extremely fixated on his father's feet. His dad had strong, hairy legs and a pair of magnificent feet. He would later realize that almost no other men's feet came close in beauty to his own dad's feet. You could say that he was blessed with seeing those gorgeous feet every day. Unfortunately, they would also cause him great sexual frustration, as his dad inadvertently displayed his soles everywhere they went and Robert had to try hard not to get a raging erection when he was around them.

How he wished his father could understand what beautiful feet he had and allow others to worship them. It seemed unfair that his dad could not participate in this sex act. Surely it would make him feel good and in control to have his son kneeling at his feet, youthful tongue slithering all over his sensitive soles. She laughed as she said it, as if to say it was natural to get hard, and her face showed confused amusement because she was probably wondering what on earth got her son so hard. If only she knew. Robert grew up in a religion that taught strict self-control and self-mastery. Some of its teachings included strict prohibition from masturbation and no sex outside of (hetero) marriage. Robert began to eroticize chastity and the denial of sexual pleasure from a young age. He felt incredibly guilty about his constant need to jerk off and he felt especially bad that his thoughts were about men and their feet. It was one thing to wank to the thoughts of women who he could seek out for marriage, but another story to fantasize about something that was completely forbidden and could never be accepted within the realms of his faith.

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I largely interact with foot fetishism as a form of body worship," they told me. "I enjoy looking down and watching them open up their mouths as they swallow, or try to swallow, more and more of my foot. It clearly becomes a phallic object at that moment." Open wiiiiiiiide,” Trevor sang, pressing his toes harder against my lips and squeezing tighter on my nose. “Say ahhhhhhhhhh!” But my favorite act involving feet is when I'm inside someone with their feet resting on my shoulders. I love running my tongue up their sole before nibbling or biting into their heel, depending on their pain threshold and preference. For me, this taps into this primal, more animal energy. As my teeth bite into their heel, I bury myself further into them." When Robert struggled to get to sleep at night, his mind would drift to bizarre fantasy scenarios where boys like him were constantly being monitored for deviant desires, with measures being put in place to either prevent him from masturbating or to channel his desires towards women.

Like what?” I asked, and the two of us sat for a moment in though. “How about...the loser has to smell the winner’s feet!” I gave go right then and there because I’m not a good lier and he had clearly known what had happened. Robert had his first kiss with another man when he was nineteen when he managed to move to a large city. His first true kiss, Robert is proud to note, was when he managed to kiss another man's foot, some years earlier. One night, when he was eighteen, Robert's mum was away at a conference and he was left alone with Dad in the house. Dad had fallen asleep, stomach first, his entire body under one thin bedsheet. His hormones were in overdrive that night and he dared himself to do the most forbidden thing of all - get intimate with the feet of his maker. The door to the master bedroom was open that warm night and he could hear the soft snoring of his father. He was presented with the most thrilling sight of all. His dad's foot hung off the edge of the bed, pressing tightly against the thin white bedsheet that kept the feet prisoner. Robert knelt quietly at the foot of the bed, face inches away from the covered soles. He allowed himself to enjoy the sight before him, like a humble man before the Gods. His head was spinning from the sheer ecstasy of what was about to happen, intoxicated by the sight before him.

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May I look your boots Sir?" is a sign of interest, if he's a stranger, and a sign of subservience and ownership if he's someone with whom you have an established BDSM relationship. If feet are a turn-on for you, don't worry, you're in good company. Famous foot fetishists (people with podophilia -- not pedophilia) include Elvis Presley, Andy Warhol, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and megastar burlesque vedette Dita Von Teese.

There are sub-groups of this fetish. Some foot lovers are specifically turned on by certain footwear or toenail polish, others see foot worship as a power exchange in BDSM. Like all sex practices, foot fetishism draws inspiration from global culture. The industry of women's high-heeled shoes exists to make feet and legs appear "sexier," often at the expense of comfort. Giving attention to feet has been seen as an act of worship since ancient times. In the Gospels, Lazarus's sister Mary anointed Christ's feet with oil and washed them with her hair -- an act considered by Christians to be the greatest form of reverence. Hey bro, I don’t judge. If you want to smell them smell away, but I’ve got a better if you want to hear it” he said Oh yes, he does have some amazing feet!" his mum exclaimed. "You are becoming a man now, and you will get hard all the time. Why don't you take off your speedos and push your hard penis on those big feet?" The way his dad was sitting, the soles of his feet would point directly at Robert. It was the greatest tease imaginable. His dad's soles were inches from his face. Robert wanted to make love to those feet, but he didn't know what to do. He could only allow the butterflies in his stomach to increase and push his groin into the floor. Now I’ve known him for a long time, and we’ve done a lot of crazy things together and with our other friends but this, I didn’t know what was going to happen.He was laughing so hard too. At the end of it all, he said, "Don't think I'm letting your tongue touch my foot. That shit's gross." And we went about our night. Ended up sleeping the night at his house. Nothing crazy happened, but I did massage his feet before we both passed out. Now it was time to expose the soles. Robert very cautiously lifted the bedsheet to expose the toes and ball of the feet. The soles in front of him were larger than he imagined. They were also smooth and clean. His eyes darted in the very dim light from one toe to the other, asking himself which one was more masculine, which one was more beautiful and worthy of worship. Oh, GOD, your shoe reeks!” I grabbed his arm with both hands, but was unable to push his shoe off of my poor, helpless little nose. I had no choice but to inhale deeply. It was either that, or stop breathing entirely and suffocate. And I prefered smelling his putrid shoes over dying, any day.