THE RELUCTANT ADVENTURES OF A FOOT FANCIER:

Let’s take it from the top!

It all started, for me (I guess) when I was in High School. My parents had just moved us from the city to the suburbs. It was there that I made contact with my initial foot-fetish queen. Her name was Daisy Martinez & I’ll never forget the day I met her. A neighbor’s son, with whom I was developing a friendship with, decided to take me out & show me around the town.

I laid eyes on Daisy as she stood outside the local roller-rink. Her brunette hair was cut short (unusual for a 70’s hair style)and her creamy bronze skin seemed to shine in the sun-light. She wore her father’s work shirt (tied at the waist) with a halter-top underneath (no bra). Her jeans were tight & form fitting... usually rolled up above the ankles. Daisy hated wearing shoes & spent most of her summers running around barefoot. (When she did wear shoes, or footwear, it was usually "Dr. Scholl’s" sandals, "Candies" or the classic "Pro Keds".) This day she was barefoot, with her "Dr. Scholl’s" in her hands. She saw me staring at her & winked at me. Me (with all my teen-age bravado) decided then & there that she needed company... a bogus fact since she was standing there with 7 of her female friends. What we talked about I don’t recall but all I remember is that at the end of it she kissed me on the cheek & invited me to have pizza with her at the local hang-out (which was a pizza resturant, & also sold comics & had an old fashioned juke-box - with all the latest tunes). That night I made it to the the pizzaria & there was Daisy (still dressed in the same jeans but now wearing a ruffled blouse & her "Candies"). She was a vision of lust. Anyhow, we sat down & ordered a small pie. We talked & discovered that we had a lot in common (like we both enjoyed collecting comics & going to the movies - especially to see horror & Kung-Fu flicks). After we ate the pie & talked with some of our friends (who were at the resturant with us) we went outside. Daisy jumped up on the hood of her friend’s car (loosing one of her shoes in the process). I picked it up & placed it back on her foot. She smiled warmly, & with an impish giggle, she kicked off her other shoe. Again I retrieved & placed it back where it belonged. As I placed the shoe back on her foot, Daisy sighed & told me that I had soft hands. She then asked me if she had nice looking feet. This took me off guard & (just to be nice) I remarked yes. "Then why aren’t you kissing them?" She stated, seeming to stare right through me. I couldn’t answer, I was dumbfounded... & before I realized it I was kissing this girl’s feet, right there in the parking lot. That was my initiation into the world of female feet. From that time on Daisy & I were inseperable. When we were lucky enough to be alone together, she loved for me to kiss & tickle her feet, while she masturbated. After which she would jack me off (all the while whispering in my ear all the things she wanted to do to me... usually involving her feet).

Sadly, Daisy died towards the end of my sophmore year in High School. She was

killed by a hit & run driver that we later learned was a another teen (&

classmate). He was angry with Daisy because she refused all his advances... &

My next encounter took place after I grew up & joined the military.

It was now the early 80’s, & I was in my early 20’s... stationed in North Carolina. In order to have a little fun & make some money, after duty hours, I joined a DJ group... which eventually became a band. We were enormously popular in small & military clubs down south (especially, in North & South Carolina, & Virginia). Most of the music we played was Top 40 tunes, usually found on R&B, Rock & Pop radio stations. We also attained what is a curse & ego-boster for every band... the dreaded groupies. Anyway, after we started making a name for ourselves (in the club circuit) I discussed certain matters about the band with my supervisor (while at work).

I informed him of how tired I was going out with & dating silly, young, girls who considered me a trophy of somekind. I knew that they were only interested in me because I was in band, & for no other reason. My supervisor listened to me intently, & when I finished, decided to help me out.

He set me up with an old flame of his (who was also his wife’s best friend in Junior High School). All he informed me about her was that she was once a female body-builder & was in the Army. She was divorced with 2 children (a boy & a girl) & worked as a foreman of a slipper making factory. Her name was "Weasey" (due to her thick, raspy, southern accent) & she was 38 years of age.

(I had just turned 20). He also constantly stated, "Now don’t forget to kiss her ankles & lick her heels." I had no idea of why he was telling me this, I thought he was just kidding around.

Soon there after, the night of our double/blind date began. We all agreed to meet at a popular seafood resturant (on a rare night my band & I didn’t have a gig). I rode up on my motorcycle as the 3 stood outside the eating establishment. I must admit that I was surprised to see my date. I had expected that she was going to be a dog but to my surprise she was gorgeous.

She still kept her body-building physique, though she was no longer in training. She wasn’t muscle-bound either, belonging to the lightweight division on body-building. "Weasey" was 5’11", in her pumps & said that she thought it was cute to have a man to look down to. (Even with my imitation Prince demi-boots I was shorter than her. Barefoot I’m 5’9".) Taken aback by the woman’s beauty I stammered out an apology. They hadn’t been waiting long, they told me. And after a confused introduction & exchanging of names, we entered the resturant.

We arrived at "Weasey’s" home just as the first thunderclap sounded. Drenched to the bone, but in good humor, I escorted her to her front door, where I tried to leave. However, my date insisted that I come in... at least long enough for a cup of coffee & to dry off a bit. Reluctantly I agreed, & before long we both were sitting in her living room drinking delicious cups of coffee. We didn’t talk much, into the TWILIGHT ZONE episode we were watching. I noticed that "Weasey" was still wearing her pumps & nylons, but was draped in a thick, fleece, bathrobe. When the show was over she asked me what I thought about her. I told her that I liked her & would like to go out with her again. With that she smilled & kissed me, long & passionately. We necked on her sofa till dawn... but when I told her I had to go she asked if I could do her a favor. I said I would & it was then that she, slowly, sensously, removed her shoes. The smell from her feet seemed to fill the room & I stood transfixed. She opened her robe (after that) & revealed a beautiful naked body. (Even her pussy was wet & throbbing, leaving a stain on her robe.) "Would you, please, smell my feet?" she asked. As if in a trance (by the smell of her feet & the beauty of her body) I dropped to my knees without a word. I inhaled the aroma deeply as I let her rub her feet across my face. My penis was so hard I thought it would pop (if pricked) as I listened to her sexual fantasies & desires. It seems that she got off on having someone smell her feet (& tell her how smelly, funky & nasty they smelt). The odor was intoxicating & it was then that I recalled the words of my supervisor. I started to kiss "Weasey’s" ankles & lick her heels... & the woman almost had an orgasm. Just as she was about to cum she stopped me. Pulled down my pants & proceeded to give me my first (& best) foot-job (while she masturbated at the same time). We climaxed at the same time & the cum spirted from my member like a water fountain. After licking up all my cum, she removed her nylons & had me smell her feet again... after which we adjourned to her bedroom & made love the rest of the day. She was wonderful. However, our romance was short lived. After 4 months, she proposed marriage to me but I rejected her. Heartbroken, she ended the relationship. Checking back on her now it seems that she’s happily married & has started body-building again... this time as an instructor & personal trainer. The last time we talked she admitted that no one (not even her husband) could kiss her ankles & lick her heels like I could.

The next experience I had came 4 months later. I threw myself into working with the band, in order to forget "Weasey". We developed dance routines, updated our equipment, created stage personaes (I resembled Prince, the bass player mimiced Adam Ant, the keyboardist was a Morris Day lookalike, the drummer resembled Billy Idol, the lead guitarist looked like Bruce Springstien & our DJ looked like a Run/DMC wanna be. I played rhythm guitar & was lead vocalist.) Then finally, one night the inevitable happened.

We played hard that night, rocking the roof off the club we were at (which turned out being the same club "Weasey" & I went to on our first date).

My band had become the club’s regular house band & we put on a show (I must admit) to rival any professional rock band. No one was sitting, everyone was either dancing, watching us on stage, or standing near the back & rocking to the beat. It was then that I saw her, the only woman sitting in the club.

She called over a dancing waitress & handed her some money & a note, all without taking her eyes off me. Later, after the club closed, the crowd went home & we were breaking down some of our equipment (to prepare for Saturday night), the waitress handed me what the mysterious woman gave her. It was a rose with a note attached. The note stated that the woman’s name was "Starr" & that she’d been watching me for a long time. She liked the band & me (in particular) & offered to buy me breakfast tomorrow, after the club closed. My friends said she was nuts & I’d be nuts to go out with her... but my curiosity was piqued. I had to know who this woman was.

So, the next night the puzzle started to come together. The woman was there & we rocked the house, again. She kept sending me notes, to come & sit with her when our set was over & when it was I happily obliged her. To my surprise this woman new my name, my zodiac sign, my birthday (& the year I was born), how old I was, what my favorite color was, where I was born & how long I had been stationed in North Carolina. I broke out in a cold sweat & wondered if my friends were right. This woman was a kook, or a high class stalker. However, she smilled (the first time I ever saw her do so) & lightly rubbed my hand. She informed me that I needn’t worry, she wasn’t going to hurt me. It’s just that when she’s interested in a guy she tries to find out as much about him as she can... "That way they’re no surprises..." she stated. As I sipped some of the drink she bought me I looked her over. She was a beautiful full-sized woman with the tips of her hair frosted over. She wore a paisley patterned poncho type outer garment with gold tassles on it. She, also, wore a lot of jewelry (bracelets & necklaces) but only one ankle bracelet - garnished with minature bells & trinkets. On her feet was a pair of gold colored "Candies" & her tonails were painted with gold colored polish. Her name was "Starr" and she ran a modeling school. She was divorced with 2 children (one, of which, was a prolem child). We talked until it was time for the band to play again. As we played she sat in her seat watching my every move. (She reminded me of a vampire... & I was her next victim.) After the club closed & we finished putting away our equipment & instruments, then I started to leave. Waiting for me, outside the club, was "Starr". She reminded me of our breakfast date, then we took off. We dined at an all-night IHOP resturant, where she talked my ear off. Informing me of her life, her horrible marriage & disappointing children... & telling me that she participated in one thing that brought her pleasure & joy. (A warning bell went off in my head when I heard that.) At dawn we left the establishment & proceeded towards her hometown. Once there "Starr" drove, not to her home, but to a small shopping center. The parking lot was deserted but nevertheless my date pulled up infront of a women’s shoe store. When she stopped the car, "Starr" pulled me to her & gave me one of the best kisses I’ve ever had (then or since). We stopped necking when another car pulled up, blinked its lights, & headed towards the rear of the store. "Starr" started her car & followed the other vehicle. When we reached the back of the place, "Starr" (after giving another great kiss) got out of the car & walked towards a young woman, who standing infront of the store’s back door. The young woman was looking nervously around while she discussed something with my date. Eventually money was exchanged & the woman opened the store’s back door. "Starr" motioned for me to follow her in, which I did. Once inside, "Starr" immediatly went down the isle with the pumps & stiletto-heeled sandals.

Guessing where this was going I happily obliged. Slowly I pulled off her shoes & kissed her nyloned foot. She leaned back & sighed deeply. I rubbed her foot across my face, inhaling her odor deeply... & she moaned. As I started to lick her foot (from heel, to sole, to toes) she started breathing deeply & quickly. Abruptly she made me stop & reminded me that she wanted to try on some shoes... first. Most of the shoes she wanted to try on were stiletto-heeled sandals. With each fitting she became more & more horny (almost panting with desire). Finally she kicked off the last shoe, laid down upon the bench (on her stomach), & placed her feet on my lap. "Baby, you’ve gotta tickle my feet... tickle ‘em now!" she demaned, pointing her delicious toes as she talked. Without a word I obeyed & "Starr" made a variety of sexy noises & sounds that still turn me on (when I think about it) to this day. I tickled her soles & arches for 15 minutes (straight) until, to my surprise, "Starr" had an intense orgasm... without vaginal or clitoral stimulation. I was shocked. When she recovered from her climax, "Starr" turned over to face me. She removed her poncho to reveal a an (almost) naked body underneath. (I say "almost naked" because she was wearing a purple & yellow camisette... and nothing else.) When she removed her matching panties I noticed that they were soaked, from her vaginal juices. Without a word she unbuckled & pulled down my pants, fondled my granite-hard penis & sat me down on the bench. Once I was down, "Starr" gave me the best blow job I ever had. However, just before I climaxed, she stradled me (placing my member into her dripping vagina). After a short time we both climaxed, screaming our pleasure throught the store. Eventually our little interlude was interupted... thanks to the nervous young lady who returned & informed us that we had to go (it was time to open the store). "Starr" & I quickly put all the shoes back (we pulled out) & left the establishment... just as the store manager was opening the front door. From there we made our way to "Starr’s" home, where we picked up where we left off (in the store). Out of all the women I ever dated, "Starr" will always have a special place in my heart. (It was her that convinced me not to deny my desire but to accept & enjoy it.) We dated for 6 months, & even tried to get married, but our families interfered & destroyed our relationship. After we broke up we still (secretly) got together for sex (twice a month). This affair didn’t end until I got out of the service & left the states. Life hasn’t been kind to "Starr" since then. I just discovered that she was shot in the head by her jealous ex-husband (who discovered her in bed with one of the male students, from her modeling school). Her ex, then, shot himself. The man died but "Starr" didn’t... but the wound caused severe brain damage. (She now has the mental ability & behavior of a 10 year old.) Her promiscous daughter died of Aids 3 years ago & her son (all grown up) now cares for his mother.

My final foot fetish experience happened 2 years prior to my getting out the military & leaving the country for Europe.

I didn’t argue & let "Connie" escort me to her car (after giving one of my friends the keys to my motorcycle... to take back to the dorm for me). "Connie" & I drove to an all night convience store, after she informed me that she had to pick up a quart of milk. I was intensly sleepy & told her so. She told me to go right to sleep, she’ed wake me when we got to the base. Again, because I didn’t feel well & was very tired, I didn’t argue... but climbed into the backseat & fell asleep. When I awoke I found myself in a bedroom... which didn’t belong to me. I was naked, lying upon satin sheets, with a small t.v. & VCR playing porno videos on a large dresser. I was alone in the room, which resembled a cross between some Las Vegas show room & a sex palace. There were various sex toys, a collection of multicolored feathers, a wardrobe full of lingere, a minature refridgerator, a mirrored ceiling, & a collection of sexually explicit photos & paintings hanging on the walls. I reached down & felt something attached to my ankle... it was a nylon cord. It was tied tight (but not tight enough to cause pain). The cord was covered in scented oil so I couldn’t get a grip on it to untie myself. I was terrorfied, thinking that my promiscous ways had finally caught up with me. I tried to reach the door but the cord prevented me (for it was long enough for me to walk around the room but too short for me to reach the door). Realizing this I tried to move the bed & to my horror discovered that it was bolted to the floor. I was trapped! Abruptly my abductor re-entered the room, carrying a magnificent breakfast for me on a tray. She was wearing (what I call) a Fredrick’s of Hollywood special... dressed all in pink & black (from lace gloves to stiletto-heeled slippers). She winked at me & locked the door behind her, after she entered the room. With hardly a word she offered me the food, but fearing it was drugged I refused (though I was very hungry). Reading my thoughts, "Connie" ate some of the repast infront of me (trying to show me that it was okay to eat). After several moments hesitation I dug in. While I ate she told me her life story... which ended with her living with her evangelical, wheel-chair bound, mother. The room we were in was "Connie’s" bodouir (& a room that her mother considered a gateway to hell... so never entered the room). (Nevertheless, to safeguard her privacey, "Connie" always locked the door - to her bedroom - when she wasn’t in it.) The woman was obviously nuts... but drop-dead gorgeous. She confessed that she had a crush on me since she first met me, but was afraid to say anything (due to the various women she had seen me with).

Now, I finally belonged to her & she was going to convince me that she was the woman for me... but first, she had to break me in. After placing the tray of food on the floor she sat me down on the bed & proceeded to give me a blow job. (It’s difficult to resist when you’re trapped in a bedroom with a beautiful, but derranged, woman... whose locked you in.) When she got me good & hard she slipped her feet out of her slippers & tried to give me a foot-job... while demanding that I watch her masturbate (as she did me). This (I must confess) was quite stimulating... but "Connie" climaxed before me. Her soft cunt squirted its juices all over her satin sheets. To punish me, for not cumming with her, she forced me to masturbate & squirt my cum all over her feet. This got her hotter than hot & she made me stand & watch as she licked

I seached my abductor quietly for the key but I couldn’t locate it. However, I accidentaly discovered my clothes... & with it my pocket knife. I was able to cut through the cord, which tied me to the bed, & get dressed. Looking around for an avenue of escape I noticed the bedroom window was open. Moving swiftly & silently I opened the window so I could climb out & (thank God) "Connie’s" room was on the ground floor of the house. I was able to make it out & run to safety.

I ran into town where I discovered a local McDonalds (which I recognized as one where most of the military personal stopped for breakfast & lunch). I found a pay phone & called one of my friends who came & picked me up. I told him about the evening (& day) & once I got myself cleaned up, I informed the manager of the club about his "prize" waitress. "Connie" was fired that evening & I never saw her again. (Thank God!)

My final foot fetish encounter happened after I left the service & was studying film-making in Europe (England to be percise).

I was living with a cousin, who had been living in England for 15 years.

He had a pair of neighbors, in our flat, which seemed weird to me... that was until I discovered why. They were two women, named "Jennifer" & "Rene" (Jennifer was from Britian while her roomate, "Rene" was from France). They lived in the flat next to my cousins & I always heard strange noises comeing from it at night. Everyone in the building thought they were a lesbian couple & so did I (though I never saw any proof of this). Then one day a surprising event took place. While my cousin went out to work, he asked me to borrow a plunger from "Jennifer" & "Rene" (one of our toilets was backed up). I knocked on the door of the two women’s flat & to my surprise the door slowly creaked open. I heard a strange sound coming from inside the flat & curiosity got the better of me... I tip-toed in. Another surprised awaited me as I turned a corner (& discovered where the sound was coming from). It seems that "Jennifer" & "Rene" were sitting on the floor, facing each other, with their ankles tied loosely together... they were tickling each others feet. The women were surprised to see me but not too much shaken up. After a clumsy but pleasent introduction they gave me what I came there for & I left them to their fun. Several days later, after my cousin left for work, the two women stopped by to talk to me (as well as share a cup of tea). They informed me that they weren’t lesbians but just women who got off on having their feet tickled. As a matter of fact, they couldn’t have an orgasm without having their feet tickled... & no boyfriend, so far, seemed to accept or understand that. So, whenever they were between dates (& were horny) they volunteered to tickle each others feet. When they got horny enough they excuse themselves (to a private place) & masturbate... afterwhich they would feel better (& more in control). They confessed that they both liked me & wanted to know if I was interested in providing them with tickles when they needed it. At first I hesitated but after having my ego-stroked by these two lovely ladies, I gave into their request. Soon, everyother night &/or after class, I was over "Jennifer" & "Rene’s" flat, tickling their feet. Eventually this lead to a romance between "Rene" & me. "Rene" was quite a photographer & took many photos of the 3 of us in various foot fetish poses. (Her favorite photo was of my penis, ejaculating between "Jennifer’s"

two feet, with "Rene’s" lips drinking my cum like at a water fountain.)

That’s it in a nutshell. My entire foot fetish experience. Whomever reads this I hope enjoys them as well as I did. And here’s to hoping that there’s more experiences to come (or should I say: "cum"), in the near future. So keep those feet sweaty, keep those toes pointed & those soles wrinkled... because, ladies, we love those feet.

If you you’ve got any foot/tickle fetish experiences you’d like to share with me, or if you’d like for me to e-mail you a foot-fetish script I just completed, please e-mail me. I’d love to hear from you.