Boot Service and More – Chapter 5
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Once again, I hadn't set a return day for Boot Boy, but I was assuming I would hear from him over the weekend. And I did, but asked for more than a return visit.
On Sunday afternoon, I received an email, "Dear Booted Sir, I would respectfully request to service your boots again, and if it would please you, I would respectfully service your stocking feet. Your Worthless Boot Boy."
I thought to myself that this might be the right time to ask for a raise and move up to $20 a visit. Of course, I would still need the 2 six packs. The extra beer was nice when I went over to my buddy's house for poker night and they were impressed with the fancy imported beer. I sent a note back to Boot Boy telling him that it would cost him more and the beer delivery should continue. To support the pay raise, I also mentioned that having to change socks just for him to service would add to my laundry chores. Boot Boy agreed in a flash to the cost and beer, but begged me not to change my socks. I said that he would be happiest to service the socks that I wore all day at work. Heck, I can work with that so I replied that Tuesday made sense for his visit.
Tuesday arrived and at 7:00 PM so did Boot Boy. I decided to wear my better pull-on work boots that day. Spring was starting to turn into summer so it was warm all day which meant my boot and socks got a work out. When I take off my boots, I'm not one of those pass-out-from-the-smell type-of-guy. I'm sweaty, of course, and that's why I wear alternate boots throughout the work week, but my boots and socks are usually wet and moderately ripe. I can only say that because I have a couple of buddies whose families make them take off their boots and socks outside and not in the house because of their stink.
So, I was sprawled out in my deck chair with some manspreading going on when Boot Boy arrived. He left the $20 bill and beer on the table and took his place between my boots. I let him stew for awhile with no attention and then did some teasing by sliding a boot close to his face but not giving him permission and then moving the boot away to rest the sole on his hand. I even used his back and head as a foot rest a couple of times.
After about 20 minutes, I let him service both boots. Just as he was finishing up with the second boot, I lifted my left foot and pulled off my boot. I dropped the boot to the deck and placed my stocking foot on the back of Boot Boys head. I just pushed his face into my right boot and nearly laughed when he moaned while licking. I also noticed that his hips started grinding the deck again. I commanded, "Stop grinding your cock into my deck!"
Boot Boy froze and started licking my boot and I returned to pressing his face into the boot with my sweaty stocking foot. I said, "Back into position." And he returned to resting his head on the deck between my feet. I kicked off the right boot and rested both stocking feet on either side of his face.
I could almost see him trying to look at my socks, but it was nearly impossible in that position. I set my left foot on his head and rested the right one on top. I knew that had to drive him crazy given that he really hadn't seen my socks yet, but I imagine that he could smell my feet from that position.
I had worn a better pair of grey socks for the occasion. I'm not saying they were fancy dress socks because I don't own any but these were a pair of my less worn-out boot socks. I think they were a pair of Champion brand socks which are some of my summer weight ones. I still wear a couple of pairs with holes in them when I get low in clean laundry.
I thought that I teased him enough so I move my feet off his head and told him to raise up his head which he did. I slide both feet under his face so that he could rest his forehead on the top of my feet and his nose could be between them. It was obvious that he was holding his breathe so I was afraid that even my not-over-the-top sweaty feet was too much for him. But nope, he was holding his breath so that he could take the world's longest inhale after his nose was settled into its new temporary home.
Boot Boy just laid there sniffing and then deep inhaling the moist air coming off my feet. I thought we should crank it up a notch and told him to lay the side of his head on the deck which he did. I was able to slide my left foot over to his face and even turn my foot partially on its side so that the sole was on his face. That 10.5 size foot did a pretty good job covering his eyes, nose and mouth. I rested my right foot onto the side of his face and just ground them both into his face. That's when I felt his tongue reach out and lick the bottom of my left sock. He was giving my foot a tongue massage through the sock and it was feeling really good. I took the right foot off his face and just let him go at both of my feet.
Boot Boy went from tonguing and licking my socks to seemly sucking the sweat from the sock fabric. I was really enjoying the feet attention and even my dick chubbed up during the sock service. I got sort of embarrassed that I got a hardon from having my socks worked over.
Boot Boy had thoughtlessly started to move his hips again – not thrusting into the deck, more of a grinding movement. Just as he nearly finished licking and sucking my socks, I saw him just pushing his hips into the deck. He would push and flex his ass in those fancy suit pants and then relax. The flexing increased in speed and soon it all just stopped and heavy breathing was being forced through the fabric of my socks.
I guess he got his money's worth again.
My feet felt pretty good – never had a foot massage before and this was probably as close as I would ever get to one. Boot Boy rested his forehead back onto the deck and I moved my feet so that I could have the heals on the deck and my soles on his collarbone. I am guessing that he could still smell my feet while he was recovering.
After his breathing got back to normal, I commanded, "Go the fuck home."
He crawled to the stairs and then walked to his car. Once again, he had a healthy wet spot covering his suit pants. He must have one hell of a dry cleaning bill!