The Summer I Discovered My Obsession with Her Feet

I have to tell this story, because even now, years later, my mouth still goes dry when I remember it. For almost two summers I was tangled up with a woman eleven years older than me. Back then I had just turned nineteen and she was thirty. She was short, with a round face that looked like a doll’s, good hips, good legs, and feet that she took care of with an almost religious devotion.

We met completely by chance at the pool of a residential complex. Marina was a friend of a coworker from one of those shitty first jobs I had, unloading boxes in a warehouse on the outskirts.

I was a kid with a good body but with an aura of adolescence that fooled no one. Skinny, lanky, and with the bad habit of walking around in swim trunks that were way too tight, because I liked feeling the looks. That afternoon was not going to be an exception.

There were four of us by the water: Diego, my warehouse friend; Sonia, his girlfriend; and Marina, the short woman whose feet had me hypnotized from the very first second.

They were perfect. White, soft, with a high arch, rather small, size thirty-six. The toes neatly aligned, the nails painted a pale pink, the big toe the longest and the rest descending in a clean line. I could barely look at anything else.

At nineteen you’re horny all the time, and Sonia, though she wasn’t pretty, had breasts that were hard to ignore. But I didn’t care. She was tall, wide-hipped, too much woman for my head at the time. Marina, on the other hand, with her green bikini, her petite body and those feet, was the one who stirred up a hunger in me I couldn’t explain.

Using Saturday as an excuse, we took some pitchers of sangria down to the pool and drank “a little.” We messed around in the water, Diego threw me around like I was a doll, and I took advantage of every splash to get close to Marina, who let me, I suppose because I seemed like a harmless kid.

The problem was that the more we played, the closer her body was to mine, and the harder my cock got under the water. What really set me off was that I was always finding excuses to touch her feet.

I was a beginner at that. Just brushing against feet of that caliber gave me an instant erection, almost magical, as if someone had flipped a switch.

Marina must have noticed, but the sangria and the arousal had made me bolder.

“Stop grabbing my feet already,” she said, half laughing.

“What, I have to use my hands to swim, don’t I?” I shot back.

“Careful, or I’ll kick that smart-ass face of yours, huh?”

“With those little feet? Come on, they look fake, like toys.”

“Idiot, I know they’re small.”

“Small and cute,” I said. “If we put a little stick under them, they’d look like a classic ice pop.”

I made the gesture of holding an imaginary stick under her heel and, without asking, stuffed her whole foot into my mouth. I was rock hard from all the flirting, and the moment those toes slipped between my lips I felt pressure at my temples, a wave of heat through my whole body, and my cock about to burst through my trunks. I ran my tongue over the sole, gave her three soft bites while making “yum, yum, yum,” so it would seem like part of the game, and sucked her big toe for a second too long, tasting the salt of the chlorine and feeling the smooth skin scrape my palate.

Marina laughed. She didn’t pull her foot away, didn’t say she was ticklish, didn’t say anything. She let me do it. I saw her lips part slightly and her swallow, and that reaction made me even harder.

We stayed in the water a while longer and, during one of those turns, I grabbed her by the waist to lift her and felt perfectly how my cock, stiff and throbbing, pressed into the crack of her ass over the bikini. She froze for half a second, pushed her ass back against me as if by accident, and kept going as if nothing had happened. She still didn’t say anything.

***

When we got out, Marina sat down on a lounger and started rubbing lotion into her legs, which were dry from the chlorine. I was still half hard and half drunk, so I asked if she wanted help with “those popsicle things you’ve got for feet.” She looked at me, gave me a gorgeous smile, and said yes while holding out the bottle and stretching her leg toward me.

I took the cream, spread it well over her feet, and massaged them slowly, savoring every curve, every centimeter, fighting the urge to bite them, to kiss them, to suck them again.

“Oh, that feels so good…” she murmured. “I can’t even remember the last time someone gave me a massage like this.”

“It’s not free. You owe me a shot.”

“Two. One for each foot.”

“That sounds more than fair, Mrs. Marina.”

Sonia said she wanted one too, that she was jealous, and shoved her feet onto Diego so he’d rub them. But Diego was all thumbs and kneaded them with no finesse, as if he were wringing out a dishcloth.

“That kid’s going to make somebody very happy,” Marina commented. “Because damn, he does them well.”

“Natural talent,” I said.

“I’m jealous…” Sonia sighed.

I could barely fake being casual. My face was burning, my pulse thudding at my temples, my cock throbbing inside my wet trunks, and her soft feet were being worked over nonstop by my ten fingers. I was sick with desire.

If this doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to do something stupid in front of everyone.

“I could stay like this all afternoon,” she said at last, “but I have to go. I’ve got plans later and I need the buzz to wear off a bit.”

I thought fast. I knew she’d have to go upstairs to change, and I had my things up there too, in Diego’s apartment. I was hard, and it occurred to me that this could be the moment to show her.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Seven thirty.”

“Good time to keep going, but yeah, I need to head up too. Diego, can I have the keys? I’ll go up, change, and bring them back down.”

Diego handed them over with a knowing wink. Sonia was still insisting he give her a proper massage, arguing that if a kid could do it, with his experience he should know better.

***

On the way to the elevator we talked about nonsense. My cock had gone down a little, but the bulge was still pretty obvious, like an allergic reaction that didn’t want to go away.

In the elevator I noticed Marina glancing down a couple of times while we chatted. The sangria had made her bolder. She liked the effect she had, and she must have been wondering how the hell I could be like this when the only thing she’d touched were my feet.

As for me, I kept sneaking looks at her feet, so pretty and small in those flip-flops, with their pink nails. The impulse to bend down and grab them was constant. I fantasized about licking them all over, about sucking each toe until the polish was clean, about cumming on them and watching her rub them together smeared with my semen.

Dangerous thoughts. My cock swelled again inside my trunks. We were going up to the eighth floor and that elevator was not exactly fast.

We went into the apartment to get our things. Marina went to fetch her clothes, but left her bag forgotten in the entryway. I went into the kitchen to drink some water and buy time, with the idea of meeting her in the guest room, where I’d left my clothes, and having her catch me naked. Just thinking about it sent the blood rushing back to my cock and left me in a state of permanent half-erection, bulging more than it should.

Marina went into the bathroom and I drank three glasses of water in a row, dying of thirst. Still hard, I went into the room, pulled my wet trunks down to my ankles, and started drying off. My cock sprang free, hard and red at the tip, and the friction of the towel against my balls and glans lifted it even more, until it was pointing at the ceiling, throbbing on its own.

I heard the bathroom door open. Marina was walking toward the room saying something about how well the pool and sangria went together. I answered as calmly as I could, hearing her footsteps coming closer, completely naked, my stiff cock hanging heavy between my legs, waiting for eye contact, turned on by what I knew was about to happen.

She appeared in the doorway to get her bag and her eyes went straight to my crotch. It took her a moment to react because of the alcohol, so I let her look properly. Feeling her eyes nailed to my cock made it swell even more, the vein along the side standing out and a drop of pre-cum appearing at the tip. She blinked, surprised, and raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you were changing.”

“No problem. I’ll dry off in a second and get dressed. Get your things, it doesn’t bother me.”

Marina went in for the bag and looked again. And again. And then she didn’t look away.

“What a monster you’ve got… Why is it so hard?”

I decided to confess. I didn’t have enough blood in my head to lie.

“Well, I’m a bit embarrassed…”

I said that with my underwear in my hand and my cock out, letting her look at it in case she felt like touching it. It was already at full mast, thick, with my balls tight and straining.

“It’s just that you have gorgeous feet. And that’s something I really like in a girl. The massage got me a little worked up.”

“A little?” She gestured toward the obvious, mouth half open. “You got that hard just from touching my feet?”

“Yes.”

There was a silence. She looked at me, I looked at her. She ran her tongue over her lower lip without realizing it.

“Do you want to suck them?” she said at last.

That sentence landed like a bomb. I struggled to react, but everything else reacted for me: my cock jerked and another transparent drop appeared at the tip, which didn’t escape Marina’s notice.

“No need to answer,” she laughed, never taking her eyes off me. “I can see you’ve made up your mind.”

“I’m dying to…” I admitted.

“Me too…” She lowered her voice. “Before, when you bit them at the pool, I got so turned on. My bikini panties got wet all at once. And when you massaged them, too. I wouldn’t do this without the sangria in me, but I go crazy when someone touches them and sucks them. A lot.”

***

She lay down on the guest bed, pulled up the short dress she’d just put on, and slid her panties down her thighs until she took them off over her feet, unhurriedly, letting me see everything. Her pussy was shaved, her lips swollen and shiny from how wet she was, and there was a damp patch on the panties she left thrown beside her. She lifted her left foot toward me, toes stretched out as if offering it on a tray. I accepted the invitation without a second thought. I lunged at it and started licking from the heel, tracing the whole sole without any hurry, savoring that delicious thing I’d been chasing all afternoon.

“God, I love having my feet eaten…” she panted. “You have no idea how hard it is to find someone who really likes it.”

“I love it. And with feet like these, it’s a gift.”

“You do it so fucking well…”

Her hand went down between her legs, she parted her pussy lips with two fingers, and started rubbing her clit in slow circles, then faster. She closed her eyes and started breathing hard while my tongue went up and down her sole over and over. I sucked her toes one by one, slowly, trapping each one between my lips, tugging at them with my mouth, biting them carefully and taking them back in again to the hilt. I licked the space between her big toe and second toe, ran the tip of my tongue under her nails, nibbled at the top of her foot.

“Mmm, that, that kills me…”

I could hear the wet sound of her fingers going in and out of her cunt, schlick, schlick, schlick, and that noise had my cock so swollen it hurt. I started grabbing it with my free hand too, jerking off slowly while I kept eating her foot. I was so lost in it that I didn’t notice she was watching me with her mouth half open, watching me stroke myself while I kept sucking her toes. I stuffed the whole foot in my mouth, my tongue between each toe, and sucked hard. She arched all at once, frowned, her thighs tensed, and a long, rough moan escaped her, ending in an orgasm she tried to muffle with her free hand. I felt her little toes contract inside my mouth as she came.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” she murmured, still trembling. “Don’t let up, don’t stop, do the other one.”

I repeated the operation with the other foot. Sole, top of the foot, heel, the spaces between the toes. I left nothing untouched. I kissed them desperately, sucked them trying to separate each toe from the rest, licked them like someone eating an ice cream in the middle of August. I drenched the top of her foot in saliva and then dried it with more licks, bit it on the upper side, sank my teeth carefully into the heel. Marina, beside me, had abandoned shame altogether: she’d shoved two fingers into her cunt up to the knuckles and was opening herself with her thumb on her clit, moving her hand so fast her wrist was slapping against her pubis.

“Put both of them in my mouth at once, come on,” she asked me, her voice broken. “Both feet at the same time.”

I brought her feet together sole to sole, opened my mouth as wide as I could, and took both big toes in at once, squeezing them with my tongue, sucking hard, swallowing around them. Marina let out a squeal that bounced off the walls of the room.

“Oh, fuck, like that, like that, don’t let go, don’t let go…”

In the middle of all that, Marina had another orgasm, even louder. This time she didn’t cover her mouth. A “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming” escaped her, followed by a long moan, and I felt the fingers she had buried in her cunt soaking even more. She kept touching herself and I kept licking. If she didn’t stop, neither did I.

It was only the third time in my life I’d been able to eat someone’s feet with that much freedom, and these were in a class of their own. Best of all was that she had been the one to ask me.

While I was enjoying her, I’d been touching myself too. My cock was soaked with saliva and drool, completely red, and I could feel my balls tightening, the tingling starting to climb inside my groin. I felt I couldn’t hold on much longer, so I lifted both her legs by the ankles, pressed the soles of her feet together to form a sort of improvised pussy, and shoved my cock into the middle. The soft skin, still scented with cream, squeezed my glans and I let out a gasp of pure relief.

“Fuck my feet, come on, cum on them,” she said, pressing them together herself, arching her insteps to clamp them even tighter around me. “I want to watch you cum.”

I started thrusting my hips, fucking that little foot-gap with harder and harder drives. My cock went in and out gleaming between her two soles, bumping against her toes, with the pink nails grazing my glans on every stroke. Marina had slipped her free hand back between her legs and was jerking off again, looking at me, mouth open, tongue poking out a little.

“Come, come already, give me your cum on my feet, on my face, wherever you want…”

I held out for a couple more thrusts and then I couldn’t anymore. My balls clenched, my cock swelled even more between her feet, and I let out the first jet of semen with a growl. It shot out so hard it hit her face, crossing her cheek and reaching the corner of her mouth. The second jet landed between her breasts, over the neckline of the dress pushed up. The rest I blasted over her feet, soaking her toes, dripping down her insteps, flooding the space between her soles. Her feet were left dripping with thick semen, shining as if she’d rubbed oil over them.

“Fuck, you made a mess of me,” she said, laughing as she looked at the wreckage.

“Sorry, I wasn’t exactly in a position to think.”

“Yeah, sure…”

She licked at what she had near her mouth without any embarrassment, and I loved seeing it. Then she brought one of her feet to her face and licked a semen-covered toe herself, looking me in the eyes, as if she were returning the favor. My cock, which had started to go soft, stirred again. After that she cleaned herself as best she could with the panties lying beside her, balled up, and stuffed them into her purse wrinkled and dirty.

***

From that day on, Marina went almost two years without seriously looking for a boyfriend, because she couldn’t find anyone who did what I did for her. And I wasn’t helping her look. I wasn’t about to give up that open bar, and at every meeting I enjoyed her as if it were the last. We were both hooked on the same fetish, trapped in the same game.

It was enough for me to go out on a Saturday, not hook up with anyone, and send her a message in the small hours saying, “I want to eat your feet like an animal,” for Marina to reply calling me every name under the sun and then, a little later, tell me to come to her place. The times she ditched her friends so I could suck her toes and cum between her soles can’t even be counted.

It was the magic phrase. Any random Tuesday I’d text her that I was dying to, she’d invent an excuse to leave work early, and we’d spend the whole afternoon locked in her house, her naked from the waist down and me devouring her feet while I jerked off, fucking them until I came all over them three different times before night fell.

What a great time that was. Sometimes I still miss it.