Hey everybody! This is my first post here, and I have a story of stinky feet worship to share with all of you. It's a 3-parter, and while some of it is fiction, many parts of it are based on things that actually happened between me and this girl Payton (not her real name). It came out several pages more than I expected, so sorry if it seems a bit long-winded at times. Part 1 starts out pretty tame, but by the end of part 3 things get crazy. Anyway, here is part 1.
A few years ago, my friend Mark started dating a girl named Payton. She was about 5'10" and thin (but curvy as well, she had a beautifully fat ass) with long dark hair. Her skin was rather fair, but not in a pale, sickly sort of way. She was the tomboyish type, and in addition to being generally athletic, she also played as catcher on our high school's softball team. Since she was a tomboy I had a hunch that she wasn't the type of girl who was afraid to get a little dirty, or be around us guys without having taken a shower or plastered herself in makeup and perfume. That's why I paid more attention to her than any other girl I knew at the time. I knew that once I could catch a whiff of her feet, I wouldn't be disappointed. As it turns out, I didn't have to wait very long. In fact there were several occasions when I got to inhale the sweet aroma of her feet.
The first time I remember sneaking a whiff was after school on a Friday, just a couple weeks after I first met her. Payton was driving Mark and I over to McDonalds to get some milkshakes, Mark was in the passenger seat and I was in the back by myself. We live in the south and, as usual, it had been very hot that day and we were all sweaty and tired. When we got in the car Payton immediately cranked the AC and, surprisingly, reached down and started taking off her shoes. Mark was talking on his cell phone and didn't seem to notice. She looked back at me and said "Hope you don't mind if I take my shoes off, my feet are killing me."
"No I don't mind, as long as your feet don't stink" I replied jokingly.
"Haha! To be honest they probably do, it was crazy hot today" she said as she peeled off her ankle socks, visibly moist with sweat. She stuffed her socks into her shoes and tossed them into the back next to me. "I'll open the windows back there so you don't gag from the fumes." As she was driving I slowly pulled her shoes closer to me, watching her eyes in the rear view mirror to make sure she wasn't looking. Since she was driving and Mark was still talking on the phone, it wasn't too hard to pull out her socks and discretely take a few deep whiffs. They definitely had a distinct smell, although not as much as I had hoped they would. They appeared to have been clean (at least when she first put them on) which was disappointing. I had imagined she was the type of girl who would often wear a pair of socks for days, or even weeks in a row without washing them. However, it was starting to look like my assumptions about her were wrong.
"How's the air back there?" Payton suddenly asked. For a second I thought she had caught me, but I was leaning forward, my face (and her socks) hidden behind Mark's seat and out of her view.
I looked up and said "Oh I’m fine. At least your shoes haven’t knocked me out yet.”
Laughing, she replied “Well I think you just got lucky this time. Before today I had been wearing this one pair of socks for almost three weeks straight, without ever washing them.”
Not wanting to attract any attention, I tried my best to act as anyone else would. “Three weeks?! Why would you wear a single pair of socks for that long without washing them?” I asked, faking shock.
She laughed again and said “That’s just the way I’ve always been! I don’t even think about finding clean socks when I get dressed in the morning. When I go to bed at night, I take off my socks and lay them on the floor by my bed, and when I wake up they’re there waiting for me.”
Obviously this confession intrigued me. “So what made you wear clean socks today?” I asked her.
“Well you see, I kind of…wore that pair out.” I could see she was almost getting embarrassed.
“What? You wore them for three weeks and they’re already unwearable?” I asked.
“Pretty much” she replied. “They were all dark grayish-brown on the bottoms and full of holes, and when I would go to put them on in the morning they would be all crusty.”
“Wow, you’re awfully brave to admit all that” I said while laughing.
“I’ve honestly just never really worried too much about it” she replied. “I just like the way worn out socks feel. It’s like they slowly become molded to your feet, you know?”
I decided this was a good chance to try and win some brownie points with her. “To tell you the truth, I know what you mean all too well.”
“Aaahh, so you like to wear out your socks too huh?” She seemed to be genuinely interested in my admission. “Well what was all that about earlier?” she asked. “You acted so surprised.”
“To be honest, I was surprised” I said. “I’ve never met anyone else who had the same bizarre sock-habits as me. And I would’ve never guessed that the day I would, it would be a girl.”
“Ha!” she laughed again. “I guess it is a bit odd. Hey! That must be the reason you’re able to withstand the radioactive funk coming off my shoes back there, because you’re so used to it!” she added, laughing some more.
“Yeah, I guess it really doesn’t bother me too much” I replied.
“Well well…” she started, in a slightly flirtatious tone. “Maybe you can give me a foot rub sometime! My feet are always killing me after my softball games, but Mark never wants to rub them, he can’t stand the smell.” Just then, Mark finished his call and we both cut short our conversation.
“Sorry about that you guys” Mark said.
“No problem” Payton replied. “John and I were just getting to know each other a little better. I’ve even let him in on my little sock habit.”
“Oh God” Mark began. “You have no idea how bad it is when she takes her shoes off after one of her softball games. Seriously dude, she could clear out a whole room.”
At the mention of this I started to get excited.
“Yeah well John doesn’t even mind the smell, do you John?” Payton asked.
“No, not really” I replied.
“See? He knows how to appreciate all of a woman’s attributes” she added.
Mark rolled his eyes. “Yeah ok, then ask him to rub your feet after your next game.”
I was surprised to hear how nonchalant Mark was about the idea of his best friend rubbing his girlfriend’s feet. Having a foot fetish for so long, you sometimes forget that a foot massage is just a friendly, platonic gesture to some people.
“Alright, maybe I will! As long as John is cool with it” she said as she winked at me through the rear view mirror.
“I don’t mind” I said. For the next few days, my mind ran wild with the possibilities. It was all I could think about.
Part 2 coming soon...