The following story is intended to be viewed by an adult audience and is homosexual in nature. Do not proceed if you are under eighteen or if you are not allowed to view adult content in your region or country. This story, while kinky, involves willing participants and no minors.
Pain, humiliation, sweat, foot worship, ball torture and blackmail are central and erotic themes in this story and if that sort of thing offends you or does not turn you on do not proceed. If it does, by all means--continue. And send your comments to me
I knew Curtis was straight, I was okay with that. Even if he had some latent bisexual tendencies that I didn't know about, I wasn't about to ruin our friendship by making advances on him. I'm still in the closet myself anyway, a virgin too. My parents would freak if they knew, they're the religious types. So as horny as a repressed virgin fag gets I figure I should play it safe until I graduate and am financially independent before dropping that sort of bomb.
We took a class together my freshman year, and like most guys in the closet I know how to chill with even the hottest guys, toss back a few beers and check them out all without ever raising their suspicion, including Curtis.
But with him it's a little bit more complicated. Not only is he sexy but he's got these really sexy size eleven feet to go with his perfect body. Yeah I've got a foot fetish. The day we met, he was wearing sandals, his rainbow flip flops--you don't remember that shit unless you're obsessed like I am about feet.
He's the kind of guy I'm afraid I'd just throw all caution to the wind around and blow my cover. He's cocky, with a stunning smile and the sexiest ice blue eyes, top it off with a mop of curly disheveled brown hair and a killer tan from playing soccer outside in just his shorts, cleats and these fucking cute ankle socks--the kind you can't see until his shoes come off.
One Friday afternoon while I was just getting out of the shower I heard Curtis in the living room. I remember thinking to myself how late he was. He usually plays soccer with a few of his friends after class once a week but usually not this late. I hadn't brought a change of clothes into the bathroom with me earlier and I wasn't about to put on the clothes I had worn earlier. It was only early summer but for Arizona that still means it was nearly a hundred outside and my clothes were a little sweaty. I wrapped the towel around my waist, gathered my clothes and stepped out into the hall. I heard the crack of a beer can in the living room and made my way to the kitchen.
When I opened the fridge I saw that all that was in there to drink was beer. I didn't make it a habit of drinking in front of guys like Curtis, the threat of outing myself was always real but I figured one couldn't hurt. Besides, Curtis probably was leaving on his date soon anyway.
I passed the living room on my way back to my room and I spotted him lounging on the couch. He was shirtless still and the way the sunlight filtered through the blinds I could see that he was still a little sweaty and dirty from the game. He had his cleats, caked in dirt and bits of grass propped up on the milk crate on the floor we pretended was a coffee table and he was flipping through the channels with the aid of the remote. I took the opportunity to wave hi to him on my way, covertly lusting after those tanned gorgeous legs. I popped the beer and poured it down my throat.
Back in my room again I let the towel and my clothes fall to the floor and I sniffed my kswiss quickly before tossing them as well. They were still warm, smelling like soft canvas, sweaty leather, and a little funk. With finals week approaching I had fallen behind on keeping up on my laundry and instead of re-using my socks I had opted to just go without for the last few days and my shoes were definitely showing signs of the abuse. There was a slight imprint in the shape of my foot on the insides of each that hadn't been there last week. I made a mental note to wear flip flops until I found the chance to run a load of socks.
Not that I didn't like the smell of my own feet. In fact if you ask me I think mine smell fairly sexy, especially after wearing my leather flip flops all day, but I didn't want my friends or my roommate to complain or make fun of me.
I suppose Curtis really couldn't complain though. If the sounds of the TV in the living room were any indication he was still lounging half naked completely sweaty out there. I heard him pop and drain another can of beer from my room. I dressed quickly, and grabbed another beer before taking a seat next to him in the living room.
His eyes were glued on the set and so I carefully pretended to be similarly absorbed while instead stealing glances at his legs and ankles, wishing he'd slip his cleats off. Smelling my own kswiss back there had turned me on back there, living with Curtis had given me a bit of a sneaker fetish too and it made me even more hot to think of him wearing those low cut socks. If he did have a date he'd jump in the shower soon and I'd be able to sneak a sniff of either his cleats or his socks.
He crossed his legs at the ankles on the carpet giving me a better view of his ankles. It was all too tormenting. I tried to tell which socks he had on today but couldn't make it out with his cleats still on. Socks as low as his probably slipped down into his shoes from time to time so I wasn't too surprised.
He flexed his toes absently inside of his cleats, I could see the grass stained white leather flex and I felt my throat go dry and my heart thud a little faster. The white leather really brought out his tanned legs. To quiet my nerves and to appear occupied I finished the second beer faster than I had expected. At the next commercial break, I went and took a piss. When I came back Curtis was dusting lint and bits of grass from one of his sweaty feet, the untied cleat tossed to the floor. I silently cursed myself for missing him remove his shoe and wondered where the sock had fallen. He might have tucked it inside of his shoe, I thought. I grabbed another beer from the refrigerator but then the other cleat came off, it took a bit of effort on his part and I heard the sound of his sweaty heel squeak as he pried it off of his bare foot.
I blinked. Curtis sometimes didn't wear socks to class or even to work but I'd never seen him come back sockless from a soccer game--I guess I wasn't the only one behind on my laundry. I couldn't imagine playing soccer in that heat without socks, especially as hard as Curtis played. He was all over the field when he played and I was surprised that he hadn't tried out for the university team he was really good. He seemed to be paying the price of his sockless afternoon, wincing as he placed his bare foot on the floor.
I grabbed a second beer for Curtis and sat next to him on the sofa. Even before I got there I could smell his feet. I tried to pretend to not notice, both to let him retain his dignity and so that I could continue to savor it. If Curtis wasn't going to wear socks now that it was summer I wasn't about to stop him. I knew it would make his feet smell even sexier and I wasn't about to drive him back to socks if I could help it.
"Late game?" I asked
"Yeah, Josh and Eric kicked our asses." He crossed his bare ankles and flexed his toes.
"Oh yeah?" I hesitated before I continued "Maybe you should wear socks next time." I could feel the buzz then, it was only a few beers but I drank them fast on an empty stomach. I normally wouldn't have even of mentioned something like that for fear it would blow my cover. I never even spoke about feet or footwear to my sexy roommate. The beer was making me courageous but I held my breath, waiting to see how he responded.
"Yeah I know right, sorry about the smell I'm going to get in the shower here in a little bit. My feet are killing me today but not as bad as they were yesterday. I need a new pair of cleats, these are way too small now for me to wear comfortably. They still hurt like hell but at least without socks I have a little bit more room even if they get sweatier and smell."
"Huh?" I asked, feigning confusion.
"Can't you smell that?" he asked. I shook my head as nonchalantly as I could.
"But I'm not over my cold yet so I wouldn't even smell smoke if this place was burning down." He reached to the floor and after picking up the cleat he had just barely removed he handed it to me.
"How about now?" I shrugged again the shoe only a few feet from my face--wondering what had come over Curtis and if he had more to drink than I. I wanted nothing more than to shove my face into it and lick the sweaty lining but I wasn't about to freak out my roommate like that. Besides I was too busy trying to conceal my hardon. Curtis suddenly shoved the cleat into my face. I leaned away instinctively but my head hit the wall behind me and he held it securely over my nose and mouth. It smelled amazing. He held it there for several seconds before commanding me to inhale, convinced I was just holding my breath. It was just the opportunity I had been waiting for, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in through my nose, nostrils flaring, the tip of my nose pressed up against the sweaty lining of his cleats. The entire canvas lining was just saturated with the sexy smell of feet, leather and canvas.
"It doesn't smell bad at all," I said.
"You too?"
"Huh?" I said removing the cleat, genuinely confused this time.
"Remember back when I was dating Sammie?"
"Yeah," I nodded, not sure at what he was getting at.
"Well sometimes when we were messing around she'd smell or lick my feet. She was into it like you."
"What man? I'm not like that."
"Sure you are. I can see your hardon." My mouth went dry. I knew I needed to laugh it off, slug him in the shoulder--do something--anything to throw him off the trail. But he had already figured it out.
"Okay, well this is weird for me too. I've never done anything with another dude before, I've got to say it's kind of freaking me out to be turned on by your feet. I guess I might be bi."
"Well I'm certainly no fag like you and maybe it's just the beer talking but I think it's fucking hilarious that you're into my rank feet." We were still sitting on the sofa side by side "I think you need another beer," he said, popping the can and pouring it into the nasty cleat, "drink."
I did of course, the brew tasted just like his cleat. "Here," he said, turning to face me. "Let's see if you're as good at this as Sammie was." He lifted his leg facing his right sole toward me. He wiggled his toes flirtatiously, "Suck my toes." He commanded, and he shoved his foot into my face.
He slipped his big toe into my mouth and I began sucking it. He closed his eyes with pleasure and let his head roll back while I went to work on his feet. They tasted incredibly sexy, like leather, foot sweat, canvas and slightly salty. I then moved in between his toes, slipping my tongue in back and forth. Curtis's perfectly long toes and foot twitched and he tried suppressing a moan while I moved between each of his toes. I couldn't believe how soft and perfect his feet were.
I then moved onto his arches, my taste buds scraping against his soft sweaty skin. He seemed to like this even more, arching his back and twitching even more. He then forced me to lie on my back on the sofa and he planted both soles on my face, pressing my head into the cushions. Naturally this only got me harder, I seriously considered touching myself or touching Curtis. All he had on at this point were his soccer shorts and maybe a jock strap.
He kept grinding his soles into my face, his feet so huge that his heels rested on my chin and his toes twitched in my hair. The smell wasn't ever overwhelming but it was very intense and I couldn't get enough of it.
Without even my notice I reached down and touched the bulge in my jeans, at first to adjust and then stimulating myself. Curtis's right foot left my face suddenly and without warning it came crashing into my tightening bulge directly into my nads.
Overwhelmed but the sudden agony I pulled his other foot from off of my face and clutched my nuts. "What the fuck was that--"
"--I'm not some fag! Do that again and I'll kick you harder in my cleats." I only vaguely heard him, I was sick to my stomach and my head was swimming from all of the beer. When I had recovered Curtis had stretched out his sexy legs out on the sofa and was texting again. "Ready, faggot?"
"Huh?" I asked. He took his time responding, his eyes never straying far from his cell.
"My toes," he said flexing them temptingly "you want to suck them some more?" he didn't have to ask twice, my body had already forgotten the nausea and pain. I worked his left foot again, lapping at his soles seductively. "How do they taste?"
"So sweaty."
"But that doesn't stop you."
"Yeah they taste good--I've been wanting to do this to a guy for ages." He smiled mischievously, placed his phone aside and told me to kneel on the floor.
"Why?" I asked.
"Just do it." As hot as the scenario was I wasn't about to be made into someone's bitch but his attitude was still very playful and sexy as hell so I complied. "Put my cleats back on my feet." He ordered.
Only few minutes earlier I couldn't possibly have imagined anything sexier than seeing him remove his cleats. Here I was putting them back on and somehow it was even sexier and kinkier than anything else that entire afternoon. The left cleat was a little harder to get back on since it had beer in it.
"Now lick it."
"Lick what?"
"My cleats." He said amused. "This is just the start of what you're going to get for touching yourself--start licking." I immediately began polishing the toe of his cleats with my tongue, they were slightly dusty and they had a few grass stains on them. Somehow that made it hotter. "No, no, no, no, no." He said, facing the soles towards me. "Suck the actual spikes."
He pressed the cleats up against my face when I complied so I could feel each spike. It was almost painful leaving red marks all over my face. And the sadistic grin that those marks put on Curtis's face was just priceless.
While I suspected that the foot servicing turned him on slightly I think roughing up my face with his cleat turned him on more. I half-dreaded half-awaited what he had in store for me.
He got up off of the sofa and because I was still kneeling at this point his well-filled soccer shorts were mere inches from my face. He certainly more aroused now then when we started if that bulge was any indication. I caught a whiff of his musky jock and my mouth suddenly went dry again.
"So you want to get off?" He asked me. I nodded and swallowed nervously. "Strip." I took off my shirt, jeans and stood in the center of the room in my boxers. "All of it." There I was naked, hard as a rod and still nervous as hell. I had another beer, drinking it so fast it burned my throat. "You've got a freakish thing for my feet, it's cool; I can live with that. But even though I'm straight I've got a freakish thing for causing you pain. Kneel on the floor, knees spread apart and hope you can stay hard. If you try to block my kicks you'll never see my feet again--up close or at all. The kicks won't stop until you get off."
I swallowed again. I could only assume from the way he was eyeing my low hangers that my balls were going to suffer. Thank god I was drunk, anything to numb the pain. I began stroking my cock desperately. In response to this Curtis lifted his right cleat off of the carpet and held it a few inches from my face--I could smell his feet even with the cleat still on. I closed my eyes for a second, I was salivating and fairly close to cumming when his cleats connected with my balls for the first time. I yelped. My knees snapped shut and my head swung forward.
I had only ever been kicked in the balls three times in my life up to that point and now two of those times were from Curtis.
"Oh I expect you to shout, scream, react but I'm ready to give you another kick--spread them again." I did so grudgingly. If it took a few more groin kicks to worship feet like his again I'd work through the pain. As soon as I spread my legs and before I could even stroke my cock again Curtis sent out another flying kick. For a split second I knew I could block the blow but I let it connect. I let out another shout and collapsed on the floor.
I had completely lost my hardon at this point and I felt like I was either about to cry or become sick. But I compliantly spread my knees again and thrust my hips forward. Curtis smiled and mercifully allowed me to fully recover. As much as it hurt, jacking off seemed to ease the pain. Soon I started getting harder and hotter.
"Oh," he added "Don't you dare get any of your jizz on me or you'll really regret it." And with that he swung his foot back and brought forward even harder than the previous two kicks. The kick was devastating. Instead of connecting it with the tip of his shoe his cleats directly smashed into my inflamed crotch. It took longer to recover from that blow but when I reached down to hold myself I felt my hardon as well. I must have been getting closer. I could somehow maintain an erection through this sort of thing.
Curtis had a perverse look of satisfaction on his face and suddenly my roommate had turned me into a masochist. I spread my legs again willingly and took my kicks without flinching or calling out--well, okay that's not true but I wasn't collapsing in a complete mess or yelping.
After a while I took my hands off my cock and used them to brace myself up. Each kick was getting harder and I was starting to feel light headed. But I kept taking his kicks. It made me smile behind the waves of pain to see that Curtis too began touching himself. He wasn't doing this just to hurt me...it turned him on to see that another guy could maintain a hardon and even get into his abuse. Between the kicks I felt the all too familiar tingle deep within my pelvis. I started breathing harder and sweating and a bead of pre-cum hung from the tip of my cock.
He knew what was going on too, and seemed stunned that his kicks were actually stimulating instead of preventing orgasm. To help me along he kicked off his left cleat--the one that hadn't had any beer in it and brought it to my face. It was already sweaty again. I held it there to my face while Curtis began alternating between bare and cleated kicks to my groin.
Suddenly it felt like my balls exploded. It was scary for a moment but even swollen they were still intact. Curtis had somehow managed to connect with my balls at the exact time I hit orgasm which is probably the only reason I didn't want to die in that moment because the kick knocked me over. I yelled fuck as loud as I could, muffled by his smelly cleat. I removed the shoe from my flushed face and surveyed the room: ribbons of cream had flown everywhere in what has got to be the most intense orgasm of my life at that time. I looked down at Curtis's bare foot to see a slick white glob of semen on the top of it, and knew I was in trouble.
He grabbed the back of my head and by my hair forced me to lick it off of his foot. "I told you not to get any of your fucking jizz on me. I hope you're ready to suck dick."
Curtis's silk soccer shorts dropped to the floor and he slipped his cock through the side of his jock and forced my mouth onto it. I was sore, exhausted and very drunk. It probably wasn't the best blowjob he'd had and he confirmed that by the way he reached around and crushed his balls with his free hand. After gagging on his cock and deep-throating him for five minutes he began crushing my now empty balls even harder until I could barely take it. My grunts of pain were only muffled by his moans of pleasure and suddenly my throat began filling with cum and he shivered in pleasure.
He pulled up off of me. We had ended up on the carpet in front of the sofa, my back in my own semen. Curtis looked at his watch and swore. He ran to his bedroom and came back with a shirt and shorts. He tucked his cock back into his jock and pulled his shirt and shorts on.
"One more favor faggot," he called. "My Converse, they're in the bathroom, grab them." Naked, catching my breath and wincing as my balls bounced between my thighs I grabbed his high top black converse. "Put them on, fag. I'm late for my date, don't bother with socks. I'll let you swallow my load and eat my sweaty feet but I get to kick your balls in whenever I want."
"That was really hot Curt, but I don't think my balls can take that kind of shit very often."
"That's too bad, but I don't think you're going to get any choice here, dude."
"What?"
"Shut up and get my chucks on," he said with a coy smile--even this soon after cumming the thought turned me on. "I've gotta give my date a call." When I came back I saw him kicking his feet back waiting for me on his cell.
"Yeah Angela, sorry I'm just leaving right now I'll be a few minutes late we can catch a later movie and grab dinner first if you want--oh nothing, I was just chilling with my roommate--" I slipped the first shoe on his foot, these shoes smelled awesome. "Yeah we had a few beers and filmed a short movie," he said winking at me. I was confused and finished lacing the other shoe. He hung up a minute later and grabbed his keys. I was getting dressed when he flipped open his phone and turned it to me. He pressed the play button. There I was, at Curtis's feet, sucking on his toes. As if that wasn't enough there was audio too:
"How do they taste?"
"So sweaty."
"But that doesn't stop you."
"Yeah they taste good--I've been wanting to do this to a guy for ages."
Curtis closed his phone and chuckled. "I bet you'd hate to see this go up on MySpace, wouldn't you?"
"Shit, you fucking asshole!"
"Hehe, look at it this way: you get to go all freaky on my feet at a price. You know it's still worth it...you seemed to be enjoying yourself anyway. Hey Angela and I are going to hit the club after the movie. Won't be home till late, but I'm sure these chucks will smell worse than the cleats, I almost always wear them without socks."
I nodded and pulled my shirt over my head. Unable to see anything Curtis hauled off and kicked me in the balls again. Curtis opened the front door and with a chuckle headed out to meet his date. As the throbbing pain subsided another familiar throbbing sensation returned and I knew that I'd still be up when he returned.