Now, when Davey isn't working or writing, you can find the boy seated in the armchair nearest the television. David, even now in his early twenties, looks like the all-American boy. Five-feet-eleven, hair a sandyish blond, jovial blue-green eyes and so on. And never does this boy look cuter than when he's asleep or passed out cold. He'd often fall asleep in front of TV . . . usually after he's delved into my stash of St. Ides malt liquor. On occasion (usually when nothing good is on TV and he desires to make a moderately funny TV show hilarious) he'd down an entire forty ounce. After he does this, it will only be a matter of time before it's lights out for Davey.
I'd watch him yawn into for about a half-hour. He'd placed his empty bottle on the coffee table, yawning into his fist, and too 'out of it' to be considerate enough to use a coaster. Pretty soon he'll lean back a little in the reclining armchair, and would never right himself. Eventually his muscles would go slack and he'd be completely limp and totally out in the chair.
Once I get his sneakered feet propped up on the footrest that slides out from under the chair, I'd kneel at his feet. Checking to make sure that Davey is deeply asleep, I carefully untie each of his sneakers and pull them oh so slowly off his sweet, size 9.5, white-socked feet. Oh, the wonderful smell would hit me! Enough to make me reel momentarily . . . enough to snap my cock from sleeping-snake to javelin mode.
Anyway, I'd compose myself and move my face closer to Davey's socked soles--would wedge my nose into the areas just beneath my sleeping bud's toes. I'd alternate between the left socked foot and the right as I take deep whiffs of the wonderful smell of salty man-sweat and leather. I'd sniff all around Davey's socked soles, my throbbing cock seeming to shift from rock to steel hardness! I'd touch myself for some time while I deeply sniffed, and I would NEARLY cum.
With Davey's soles right in my face, I'd unzip my pants and release my rod. I'd even jam my penis into one of my bud's sneakers--which would be warm and fragrant with Dave's incredibly aromatic footsweat. I'd moan audibly with pleasure as my cock presses down upon the sneaker's insole, which would be hot and damp. Then I'd bring my bud's other sneaker to my nose, take a huge whiff of my buddy's smell deeply, and come very close to shooting my load right into the sneaker that would still be encompassing his cock. Eventually I'd ditch both sneakers before i'd get the chance to blow my wad however.
Holding back the cum-flow, I'd slide off David's socks...and soon his bare size nine-and-a-half feet would be just inches from my face. I sniff all over them. I then brush my cheeks across the balls of his feet and quickly become even HARDER AND HOTTER. I Play with his bare feet for a little while and watch his cute, slack, sleeping face. I then stick out my tongue and let it glide across his high-arched soles. Usually Davey's breathing would change as I do this, and he'd mumble and giggle sleepily in his sleep. When he drops back into complete unconsciousness I'd begin to methodically lick the soles of both his tender feet . . . and eventually get around to sucking on his toes.
Again, I'd have to stop myself before I came. And while I wait for the pressure in my cock to depreciate to a more manageable level, I'd grab Dave by the heels and stare at his saliva-slicked feet. I'd be awestruck by the sight of them. Dave's doggies aren't the largest, but they are the most exquisite, wonderfully-shaped, soft soled, high-arched, long toed, damp boy's feet I have ever seen and sniffed in my entire life bar none. Just looking at them would cause that first pearl of precum to leak from me. I'd drop his feet and concentrate once again on keeping myself from exploding. By now sweat is beading on my forehead, and flames of erotic fire are licking at the nerves all over my body.
After a while, I'd take my sleeping buddy's left foot in my hands...then lift it to my face. I'd begin behind the ball of the Dave's foot, slowly licking the arch, and then moving up toward his toes. Then I'd slowly and tenderly kiss each toe. This would, of course lead into me sucking each and every one of my slumbering buddy's toes. Every toe tastes so wonderful!! (to add to the experience you might try coating the toes and/or soles of your victim with honey or whatever substance you find appetizing) My hands would cup his foot and lightly massage it as well. I'd be near the edge of paradise as I nibble on Davey's ankle and lick, suck, slurp and kiss his toes!! I wouldn't stop until both of his feet were clean and damp from the ministrations of my voracious tongue and mouth.
By this time, Dave would begin to show signs of regaining consciousness. When this starts to happen, I see to it that--if my buddy is going to wake up--he's REALLY going to wake up!
As he shakes his groggy head in confusion, I'd bind my buddy hand and foot to the reclining armchair. His feet would be tied to the footrest, and his hands would be tied with ropes--each of which would lead to the footrest as well (this once resulted in one of my stronger slaves breaking the footrest, but it didn't happen with David). I'd stand at an angle so that all I can see is the bare soles of Davey's feet, bound and immobilized.
Then I'd take a ruler (yes, the kind your teacher often smacked your palms with) and would whip Dave's bare soles. Twelve even good licks would normally be sufficient for even the most seasoned feet. I ignore my bud's piteous cries, because I know that--hidden within these shrieks of pain are screams of pleasure. Davey would eventually wet his pants of course (remember that the boy has consumed an entire 40 ounce of malt liquor) but the later clean-up is a small price to play for the pleasure you'll glean from this experience.
Now that his feet are sensitized by the whipping, I untie my buddy's feet and instantly grab them in a headlock (except his feet would be where his head normally would be) before he gets a chance to start kicking and shit.
My fingers would instantly scrape up and down his excessively sensitive bare soles, then I'd use a hairbrush to attack the undersides of his sweet pink toes. Dave will desperately wriggle these toes and try to flex his feet, but I'd be holding them securely within the crook of my arm. I'd alternate between using my fingers and using that hairbrush. I'd insert the bristles of it between his bare toes. One at a time that brush would grazed all over each of my buddy's toes. And his screams would be deafening (be sure to have a room that's pretty insulated for sound. If you don't have that, gag your partner.
But gag him well. I mean, most guys can still scream pretty loudly through a gag that isn't tied just right). A screaming young man attracts unwanted attention. Especially if your victim has a boyish voice like Davey. And being a brother (like me) won't help matters when the police come a-knockin'. In other words, make sure your partner is gagged well. Even if he doesn't WANT to scream, he will.
While you're tickling his feet. you'll notice that your victim-boy's face, chest and pits are damp and heady with sweat . . . and that his crotch wet with pee. This may disgust you, but I doubt it. I mean, even with Dave stinkin' to high heaven with sweat and piss while i tickled him, my cock is usually so engorged and throbbing that i could care less. It would throb hurt with that GOOD kind of pain, know what I'm sayin'?
When my cock comes near to bursting again, I'd put the hairbrush aside and assault Davey's poor feet with my fingers again. I'd move my fingers up and down his soles, then from left to right, over and over. Dave would scream himself hoarse. And my cock will throb and pulsate. There would be a feeling like electricity in my gonads, and this electricity will grow stronger in intensity with each stroke of the hairbrush and each scrape of my fingers.
YES, I'd retrieve the hairbrush again and begin to brush it between Davey's toes, then all over his bare, wildly-wiggling feet. From his smooth heels, up his smoother soles, down through the arches and across the balls of his doggies. Then I'd use the hairbrush to trace an intensely ticklish path from the sole to my buddy's heel on his right foot. David will have cum in his pants at least twice by this time, but I wouldn't be concerned about his pleasure. When you take on a sleeping victim, half the fun is feeling that you aren't pressured to satisfy your partner. it's all about YOU. Oh, he'll have his fun . . . and he'll have it because YOU'RE having fun. It's reflexive give and take.
I'd end Dave's foot-treatment by showering his toes and soles with hundreds of worshipful kisses. THEN I'd quickly stand up, shove one of Dave's smelly socks to my nose, and shoot a MASSIVE load of cum over my buddy's bare wiggling toes.
If you're into S/M you can also shoot a second load as you watch your victim/partner lick your cum off his own toes.
That's all . . . feet dreams everyone,