MY FIRST MALE FEET: A Straight Guy Experiences His First Gay Foot Worship

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My hands trembled as I wrapped my fingers around the heel of his left shoe, grabbing it and slipping it off of his foot. The stench hit me immediately. I could feel my gag reflex start to act up. Out of pure instinct I dropped his shoe and went to cover my nose. Trevor saw what I was doing, yanked off his right shoe, grabbed my head with one hand, and with the other he held his shoe over my nose.

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." The next thing I remember was looking up and seeing James's twin brother TJ standing in the door way with a disgusted look on his face.

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The thought of having to smell those feet up close made me gag. There have been times when he slipped out of his shoes, and almost instantly the putrid smell of his feet filled the room. It’s something I’ve had to tolerate for years. After the summer camp, I found it hard to believe what had happened. It seemed so improbable that it felt like a dream. However, the memories of that trip were etched in my mind, refusing to fade away. I would always remember the moment when he allowed me to worship his feet under his blanket while he was gaming.

I settled onto my pillow, ensuring that my face was as close to his feet as possible. That's how I drifted off to sleep, and whenever I woke up during the night, I instinctively positioned my face near his feet. Finally, the evening of the sleepover arrived. We gathered at Daniel's house and started with a barbecue. Later, we headed down to the basement, where the gaming room was located. The room had sleeping couches, a TV, and tables. Our group split into different activities—some played Nintendo games, while others engaged in board games. One of the guys and I ended up watching TV. The sleeping couch was already prepared for the sleepover, making it as spacious as a bed. I lay at the end of the couch to be closer to the TV, wrapped in a blanket, enjoying a movie. 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.

Literature Text

The summer break soon ended, and we would see each other less frequently in the coming weeks since we attended different schools. However, the next vacation was on the horizon, and I couldn't help but constantly wonder what he would make me do next time. He changed feet in my mouth several times, guiding me effortlessly. His feet were moist with my saliva, but he paid no mind to it, continuing to press them against my face and in my mouth. It was all about his pleasure, and he knew it. I was his little servant, fulfilling his desires. We have a bar area that serves a variety of drinks where you can socialise and chat to others – we keep the music at a volume where you can have a conversation without having to raise your voice. The organisers try and hang out here so we can welcome you and make sure new visitors are looked after, but we don’t catch everyone so don’t be afraid to come say hello.