One hot Tuesday last summer I was sitting on the front steps of my half of the duplex, getting started on my second beer while a big guy swept the driveway in front of Mel's Service Garage across the street. He kept looking over in my direction as he shoved hot dust into the gutter. He wore a smeared green coverall and black work boots. I was wearing shorts, a t-shirt and my Teva sandals. I'm on the short side, strong, thick-built and athletic with a buzzcut head and reddish stubble on my face.
I'd seen him around before and was taking this lazy opportunity to check him out. He was dark and good-looking, kind of a brute, around six foot three, dark beard, big hands. Under the coveralls his shoulders were broad and his forearms were dark and thick, straining against his pushed-up sleeves.
He was looking in my direction but not in the eye. Figuring he was eyeing my beer I decided to be neighborly. "Hot day to be doing that kinda work," I called.
"Yeah, no kidding," he said. "Pretty quiet around here too, I'm the only one here. I'm the newest guy so the rest of them took today off after the long weekend."
"That's lousy for you. I've got the day off myself."
He leaned on his broom. "It's a tradition at this place I guess - four-day weekend in the middle of the summer."
"Well, if you can take a break, c'mon over for a beer."
He stared at me for a second, said, "Man, that'd be great. Thanks," and crossed the two-lane street.
I pulled a beer out of the cooler and handed it to him. He twisted it open with his large hand and took a gulp. "That's nice," he said.
"Seems pretty dead over there these days," I said.
"Yep. Since they narrowed this street and put in all these rental units there's no business traffic along here. Used to be all warehouses. I think the old guys who run the joint will be retiring soon."
"So you'd be out of a job then."
"Nah," he said, gazing down at my feet. "There's always jobs around here for mechanics."
I didn't know what he was looking at so I looked down towards my feet too. I heard him swallow hard and I looked up and our eyes locked. He said, "Good sandals, those, eh? Tevas? Nice and basic, just the three straps."
"Yeah," I said, "they fit perfect. It's not easy to get my size, I'm just a bit bigger than an eight."
"Really," he said. "Your uh - your feet look bigger than that."
I chuckled. "I guess that's because I'm just five-seven myself."
We talked a bit, he asked me what sports I played. He had a long swig of beer and took some deep breaths, staring into the distance. He said, "Can I see them?"
"Uh... see what?"
"One of your Tevas?" His voice was casual but his eyes had an intense cast.
"Sure, yeah." I unstrapped my right sandal and handed it to him. "They're kinda expensive but they're comfortable as hell."
He raised the sandal to his face and breathed through his nose. He sat down next to me on the porch step and held the sole right up to his nose, his moustache hairs touching the black surface. He sniffed deeply.
I detected my own musty odor and I laughed nervously. "They shouldn't stink too bad, it's some kind of odor-fighting material."
"They smell good," he said quietly. I was beginning to think this guy was kind of kinky. He absent-mindedly rubbed the damp rubbery sole with his big thumb and took a look at the toes of my bare right foot, which was slung over my left knee. Some guys have told me before that my feet are just about perfect. Longish toes, high arches, pale, with a dusting of reddish brown hair in the usual spots. Trying to be casual, I gave my toes a slow flex. His mouth fell slightly open at this. He sniffed again. The atmosphere was becoming supercharged. He said, "Fuckin' hot out here."
I said, "I just got the air conditioning half-working, if you wanna cool off," We both stood up. Inside it was slightly cooler. I took off my left sandal at the door and walked into the kitchen. I heard my right one drop out of his hand. He untied and pulled off his boots and followed me. I handed him another beer from the fridge. His forehead was soaked. "Do you mind," he said, unzipping his coverall and turning away. "This thing's an oven."
"Not at all," I said. He stepped out of his coveralls and tossed them near the door. He stood there shirtless in grey boxers and thick white athletic socks. His body was big and rocky, slabs of firm muscle on a thick-boned frame. Not too much body hair, but what he had was jet-black. "Wow, you obviously work out," I said.
"I'm a relief firehall mechanic, they've got gyms at every station. You're pretty big too."
I took off my shirt and sat in the armchair in the dim livingroom. He sat on the footstool and took my left ankle in his hand, just like that. Without a word he started giving me a foot rub. I was surprised, but I sat there and let him do it, resting my foot on his leg. His hands were incredible, huge and rough. His thumbs kneaded around the balls under my toes and I slumped in the chair. "Jesus, that feels great," I murmured.
He gave me a long, slow massage, switching from my left to right foot and back again. He jabbed with his fingertips and did a slow deep grind with his thumbs. I was in heaven - I'd never felt anything like it. I'm sexually experienced but this was a new one on me. This guy was a real foot freak and I was getting into it. Usually I play top but I started to feel kinda helpless in his powerful hands.
My cock sprang into action when he gave the pads of my toes a slight lick, pushing them against his nostrils and taking big whiffs. He dropped my left foot and sucked up four toes of my right, leaving the big one rasping against his beard. I was stunned with pleasure. His tongue rummaged all around and in between every toe. He sucked with abandon, his teeth grazing the muscular balls of my feet. He let go, breathing heavily now. "Mmm, smooth - you take care of these dogs, don't you," he said, nibbling my heel.
"Yeah," I gasped. "I scrub them with a nail brush. I walk a lot and I don't like them to itch." My left foot was resting on his leg with his spit cooling on it. Almost instinctively, I raised it toward his mouth.
"I'll fuckin' take care of them for you," he threatened, his eyes closed, grazing his lips against the little red hairs on my big toe joint. He chowed down on my left foot again. He sucked along the balls, my toes wriggling helplessly in his moustache. Shock waves ran through my foot and up my leg as he chewed and tongued my tight high instep, licking the sensitive arch with his big hungry tongue. He moaned and the vibration of his deep voice drove me crazy.
Then he suddenly, calmly stopped. He sat back and looked at me, more relaxed than I'd yet seen him. "Nice," he said. He knew he was in control.
"Yep," I said, trying to catch my breath. We drank beer in silence. I could barely process the sensations. His grey boxers were tented by a sizeable erection. My own cock strained against my shorts.
"Get up," he said. "Lemme see you walk around."
I think I would have done anything he said at that point. I got up and walked to the window, closing the curtains the rest of the way. He tugged at his cock through the fabric and briefly stroked his thumb against his nipples. "You should get naked," he said. It sounded like an order so I pulled my shorts down over my bouncing hard-on.
"Nice," he said again. He stood up and put his hands on my shoulders. He maneuvered me so I had my back to him and he lightly pushed me to my knees. I found myself lying flat, face down on the floor. He positioned himself to sit astride my torso, facing my legs, his knees on either side of my bare back. Most of his weight was balanced on his knees, his enormous, solid legs pressed against my flanks. I felt the pressure of his butt against my upper back. There was no way I could get out of this. If he completely sat on my back I'd be pinned - I was pinned anyway. He grabbed my calf and bent my leg so my pale foot met his face.
Then he ate, and ate, and ate. I'd never felt so helpless in my life, with my writhing feet trapped in his powerful paws and hot wet mouth. They were his to pleasure himself with. He moaned around my pathetically wiggling pigs and devoured every fold and tendon like a wild man. "Nice tough little white fuckers to suck," he mumbled.
I felt utterly naked in his mouth. I grunted helplessly as he stuffed seven, eight, ten squirming toes into his maw. He suckled fast and loudly. He pulled my cock back between my ass cheeks and teased my pulsing vein with his huge thumb. His other hand was locked around both my heels, binding me to his gobbling lips, tongue and teeth. After what seemed like an hour of this relentless torture I shot cum like a geyser, whimpering and gasping into the carpet. He immediately stood up and stroked himself off, his semen splattering hot onto my back.
Eventually I stood up too and we stood breathing and circling and staring at each other, our hands touching our own cocks. He told me his name was Ken and I told him mine. I got into the shower and when I got out he was gone.
I never thought much about my feet but now sometimes I can hardly stop. Wearing sandals in public seems almost obscene. Whenever I'm horny I feel it in my feet as well as my dick. He eroticized a new part of me. I didn't see him for awhile, then he dropped in another hot day a few weeks later. I've seen him several times since. Usually he has me get naked in the deserted garage. In the grease-smell and harsh light we sit opposite one other in work-chairs set at the perfect height for him to face-fuck my feet. He's getting even more aggressive. Last time he used handcuffs to cuff my ankles to the stool post.
When he works on me, when he gets me really hot, every one of my toes gets as sensitive as an aroused nipple. Sometimes he lightly locks his teeth against the balls of my foot so he can tongue my toes however he wants for as long as he wants. If I try to move he clamps down just enough to keep me in place. I can't help but clench and stretch my toes around inside his mouth and he salivates. When he's had a few beer he likes to lie on his back on the cement and let me rest my sole on his face. He can come two to four times during a foot-sucking session. He's insatiable for every part of my smooth muscled peds.
I've never played with anyone's feet but now I'm curious about it. I'm kinda hoping someday he lets me at his own big dogs. I've never seen him without his work socks but his toes must be really thick and hairy. He doesn't expose his dick to me very much either, he jerks off in his shorts, shooting out the leg hole. I've been thinking about him rubbing his hard cock against my soles, and I think he wants to do it.
The End
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