THE FIRST FOOT YEARS

THE FIRST FOOT YEARS

by ff
Even as a little girl I remember liking the feel of my bare feet against people's skin. There were a few incidents. But it was definitely as a teenager that the connection between my feet and sexual dominance broke through. That incident I remember clearly. An analyst friend of mine told me my story sounded like a classic unresolved trauma, some negative stuff I needed to work through. As I lay him on the ground and stood barefoot on his chest, I explained to him that negative, positive, or neutral stuff in my past didn't matter now. I was happy the way things have turned out and accept myself pretty well. He groaned his agreement when I walked down to his crotch and posed for him. Bobby was on the Junior Varsity football team. Dark and stocky, he had just enough curl in that black hair of his to turn the head of all the cheerleaders. I was on what they called the "yell team", not a full-blown cheerleader, just another freshman wannabe. But Bobby that special Fall had just broken up with his girlfriend, and he was "shopping around." He dated thirteen girls in five weeks. Most of them, well, there was a certain amount of bragging that went on in the girls' locker room. Soon, the girls were calling him "The Virgin- Breaker." Through some miracle, I became girl number fourteen. He took me to a drive-in movie on our first date. About twenty minutes into the movie, he made his move. It was so daring, I thought, right in the middle of a crowded drive-in. He reached over and down and grabbed my foot! It was so weird and got me so excited. Slowly, he took my left foot and removed my shoe. He took forever as he sensuously peeled the sock off. Bobby grinned as he ran his index finger up the middle of my sweaty sole. My toes curled reflexively. Then he lifted the foot to his face. I loved the feel of his tongue sliding down my bare sole. The more I tried to suppress a shudder from the tickle-reflex, the more the ecstasy built inside me, until I came like an earthquake just as he was nibbing on my little toe. Unbelievably, he did the whole thing again with my right foot! Only slower! God, I still quiver with the memory! That was his warm up. We left the movie before it ended, winding up in the wooded hills of our local "make-out alley." That's when he took me. I gave him my virginity without a second's hesitation. When it was time to leave, however, he refused to give me my underwear back. He said he wanted to keep it forever, to always have a part of me. I felt kinky and romantic all at once. It was nice thinking that he'd have an intimate piece of me like that. Well, I was just another one night for him. He went out with Janice, the senior cheerleader, after that. They became steady. That's when the trouble began. Janice was a jealous bitch. She made Bobby do something as a "tribute" to her love. What he did was bring to school all the panties he had collected and auctioned them off in the gym. The panties had name tags on them. I learned about it when the little pecker John Dewey came up to me displaying my own underwear, boasting how he'd only paid fifteen bucks for them! The football team played a big game that evening. And after the big game there was a big party at Janice's house. Her parents were conveniently away. Lots of booze in unmarked bottles. I didn't drink any. Instead, I waited for Bobby, love of my heart, to leave alone (Janice had long since passed out on the couch with several Varsity players for company. I think bobby was feeling a bit hurt and betrayed. It was perfect.) Bobby stopped by a fence and struggled comically to unzip his fly and take a much-needed piss. I walked up behind him as he finished and spun him around by his arm. "Hi, Bobby." He was so drunk his finders actually tangled in the holes of the fence. That gave me an idea. I took off my shoes as he watched and then used the laces to tie him to the fence. He giggled as he watched, completely blitzed. His dick was still hanging outside his fly. Then I stood back, and kicked him as hard as I could in his balls. "Ooofff!" I remember loving the sound as it came out of him. I kicked him severall more times. "This is for selling my panties, you sorry fuck!" "Ooofff!" I spread my toes as I kicked, and quickly discovered that this allowed me to land the ball of my foot squarely on his hanging sack without hurting my own toes. I had done it at least half a dozen times before realizing Bobby was crying something to me: "Please. . ., please . . ., I'm sorry, . . . don't Fendra, I beg you . . ." The words electrified me. I felt tingly all over. There was a very comfortable warmth inside my crotch. The sight of Bobby blubbering under me was the first super-erotic moment of my life. It was delicious. "You want me to stop?" "Yes, please!" he begged. "All right." He relaxed, then I kicked him again, laughing this time. The knot of my shoelace had finally come loose during the beating and his right arm now hung down to the wet ground. I walked up and undid the other lace and Bobby dropped to the mud. It was easy to flip him over in his condition. "Now," I said, planting my butt down firmly on his stomach. "It's time you ate some shit like you made me do. Only I'm going to make you do it more for real." I placed my filthy foot on his face, working my heel into his mouth. "Lick it clean." When he didn't react fast enough I bounced up an down on his stomach, landing down closer to his crotch with every bounce. He got the message. His tongue came out and I got my first foot wash. It was heaven. I made him clean between my toes I still shiver at the memory of the sensation. He did both my feet thoroughly. Even, hungrily. Bobby was a totally committed slave right then. I dried the saliva by rubbing my feet all over his face. And then I got a really wicked thought. I pivoted my self around his stomach, bobby's groans guiding me all the way, and scooted back so I ended up sitting pretty much on his neck with my back to his face. Down by my feet I could see the bulge in his shorts were his swollen balls were recuperating. They were button fly jeans. I wedged my feet down the middle of his partially open fly and spread them to the side. The last buttons popped open one by one. The outline of Bobby's dick and balls lay down at my feet. "One more thing before I leave you, Bobby." I rubbed my soles back and forth along his shaft. Then I dug my toes down into his underwear and rubbed some more. I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed, laughing and giggling in time to Bobby's moans until I felt something warm and gooey between my arches. I rubbed furiously a few more times then, and was treated to a large white puddle that formed on his abdomen. I bent forward and buttoned his pants back up, patting them down firmly on the wet part. It made a wonderful stain that everybody would be able to see. "See ya around, Bobby,' I said at last. Standing up, I walked a couple times on his balls for good measure. Then laughed as I went to get my shoes and go home. Bobby tried several times to get me to go out with him after that. But I turned him down. I no longer felt the same thing for him. And better still, I had found all new sensations in me that could give me the same kind of heart tingle that other girls were experiencing with their crushes. New and better. From now on, my kind of Crush would be accompanied by helpless groans. I loved what I did to Bobby that day. Before long, I began looking for new victims. It was easy.