Disclaimer: The following is a sequel (of sorts) to one of the earlier chapters in the Celeb Foot Fun stories, "The One with the Feather," which featured the guys from Friends engaging in foot worship and tickle play. It's a sort-of sequel because, while all three men are used again, I've decided to not use them in the guise of their characters this time but instead am using the celebrities who play them, i.e. Matthew Perry, Matt Leblanc, and David Schwimmer. I wanted to use these guys again in light of recent true events involving Matt Leblanc's divorce from his wife, and also, I must admit that I have never watched an episode of Friends in my life and keeping somewhat close to their character proved rather difficult for me last time. So instead, this is a fictional story, with some references to the previous chapter, involving David and Matthew cheering up Matt after his separation from his wife in the best way they know how. That's a very long-winded way for me to say that none of what follows is real (except for some true details, which don't involve any guy-guy sex), and is a creation of my own mind, and is not intended to claim anything about the sexuality of the people involved. If you're turned off by gay sex or foot fetish stories, or are under 18, please turn back now. If not, then please read on. Comments/story suggestions can be sent to bedroomathlete84@hotmail.com.
Enjoy!
(P.S. -- for those who might be tempted to skip through the expository stuff and get straight to the good parts (don't act like some of you don't!), for clarity's sake: Matthew = Perry, Matt = Leblanc. Trust me, I confused even myself sometimes writing this.)
Celeb Foot Fun 10: A Friend in Need
Matt Leblanc took another sip from what must have been his fifth glass of whiskey that evening. He was all by himself in his Los Angeles home, which he'd been preparing to move out of all day long. So that was that, he thought bitterly to himself. Three years of marriage with Melinda, down the drain. What's more, it was nine years on that he'd spent with a wonderful woman who didn't love him anymore. Yeah, it was 1997 when they'd first met, introduced to each other by Lou Diamond Phillips, Matt's good friend. Where the fuck did things go wrong? Everyone thought they got along well together, and Matt was certain of it, too.
Things probably started to go haywire when he'd fooled around with that stripper, Matt groused. Things were tense well before that, but that was really just the icing on the cake. He couldn't even remember the cunt's name, he was so drunk. And of course, the tabloid fallout didn't win him any new fans, and probably cost him some of his loyal ones, at that. Every time he got too drunk, Matt told himself, he started thinking with his dick, without ever considering what would happen in the public and private spheres. And naturally, Melinda gave him shit for it; what self-respecting wife wouldn't?
Matt finished the glass and slammed it down on his coffee table. What was worse was that the repulsive idea that he probably wouldn't be able to see his children as much anymore, thanks to custody rights and all that crap. His youngest daughter, Marina, was still fighting the nervous disorder she was diagnosed with at 11 months of age, and her progression was modest at best. Naturally, he wanted to be there for his daughter, and was prepared to use as much of the cash he'd earned from his television career to support the search for the treatment. That is, if his adoring wife didn't mind his charity.
Though the room around him was starting to spin a little bit, he poured yet another glass of whiskey and brought it to his lips. At nearly 40 years old, he was still drinking like he was in college, though he swore to himself (and to his wife) on many occasions that he'd give it up to support her and their children. Of course, now that she was more or less out of the picture, he could renege on that promise and not feel too bad about it -- at least, not until the morning when would wake up with a terrible hangover. It wasn't right to be drinking the way he was, but at this point, substance abuse didn't seem like such a terrible idea. Matt mused that if he could somehow just drink himself impotent, he would never have any problems with women ever again.
In his drunken stupor, Matt then thought back fondly to that one March day, way back in 2003, when his Friends co-stars, Matthew Perry and David Schwimmer, had played a prank on him that ended up with rather unexpected consequences. The two men had tied him to bed and tickled him ferociously, which had the unintended effect of making him ejaculate right there in front of the guys. Growing up, he'd never had an older brother who would torture him like that, though he did horse around quite a bit with his younger half-brother, Justin, and did a lot of the typical bullying older-brother things like wedgies and the usual aggressively playful rough-housing. For whatever reason, though, the touch of his two co-stars and friends had sent him into a spiral of painful ecstasy whose end result confused him for weeks. He was pretty sure he wasn't gay, despite his picture once appearing on the cover of some gay travel magazine back in his modeling days. However, when you have someone rubbing you down there and all over, Matt supposed, even if it was a guy, it was still gonna get you hard.
That's it, thought Matt with the sort of indignant purpose that comes naturally to you when you've had a few. What he needed right now, more than anything, was a good friend or two. A really, really good friend or two whom he could rely on for a shoulder to cry on, an ear to lend, and, well, some other body parts if the chance arose. Matt got up and staggered across the room, searching frantically for his cellphone. Squinting to read the screen, he finally, after much effort, located Matthew Perry's name in his cellphone's contact list. Despite his impaired motor skills, he managed to dial the number and waited, with some impatience, for his friend to respond on the other end.
A sleepy voice on the other end mumbled, "Hello?"
"Dude, Matthew, it'sh Matt," slurred Matt, obviously incredibly intoxicated by this point.
"Matt? Matt, it's...nearly 4 in the morning, what are you doing up?"
"What do you THINK I'm doing up? I'm waiting for the newshpaper boy to come sho I can get a good shtart on my day."
"Oh god, Matt, you're drunk as hell, aren't you?"
"Only a teenshy bit, I didn't have that much, only, like, shix glashes of whishkey which ish like hardly anything. I can fucking take it, I'm a man."
"Dude, Matt, I'm worried about you. Please just go to bed already, okay? I'll talk to you in the morning, but right now you need to get some rest. And please drink some water before --"
"Hey, no no no Matthew pleashe don't hang up on me, man, okay? Lishen, I jusht...really need to shee a friend right now, okay? I'm sho fffucking dishtraught about thish shit `n' I jusht, dude, come over okay? We'll have shome drinksh or something, but jushtpleasecomeover?"
Matthew grimaced to himself. Matt sounded downright pathetic. Plus, if he didn't interject, odds are good he'd drink himself to death if left to his own devices. And Matthew knew a thing or two about nearly drinking yourself to death, as the tabloid coverage of his in-and-out rehab stints attested. He certainly didn't want a similar thing happening to his good friend. "Fine, I'll be over as soon as I can. Don't drink anything until I get over there, alright? Can you promise me that, buddy?"
"Yeah, shurefinewhatevr, jeshgethereokbye," slurred Matt as he clumsily pressed the End button on his phone, cutting Matthew off. Taking yet another sip of whiskey, he fumbled for David's number. After a few tries, he finally got a hold of him.
"Matt, seriously, man, it's 4:00 AM, whaddya want?" demanded a visibly bothered David on the other end of the line.
"Dude! David! Oh man I'm shoooo glad you picked up. Lishen, come over to my place okay?"
"Are...are you wasted?"
"Only a liiiil bit, but not too much that we can't have shome fun," said Matt, who hadn't meant for his ulterior motive to slip out so soon.
"Some what? Fun? Matt, what the hell are you talking about?" asked David, who was pretty confused and irritated by this point.
"I mean, not fun, no, like, um...well, like, Matthewsh coming over in a bit and we're gonna jush like talk about shtuff. Like wivesh who shuck ash and their husbandsh who file for divorsh because they shuck so much. Yknow that kinda shit?"
Oh, right, thought David. The Melinda issue. Of all the things to make a guy hit the bottle, this ranked as one of the worst. He'd had some minor drinking issues of his own when Mili Avital broke up with him a few years back but at least he never drunk-dialed people at 4 in the morning because of it. He figured that the good Samaritan thing to do was at least go over to Matt's house to make sure he didn't drink himself blind. "Okay, dude, give me some time, but I'll be over as soon as I can, and we can talk about all of this together, k?"
"Yeah man, awshum. Sheeyouinabit!" Matt ended the call after some thorough futzing. Why were cellphones so damn small anyway? He finished his sixth glass and set it down, all the while contemplating his seventh. It would take about half an hour for his friends to get here from their houses, he figured, so he may as well make the most of his time.
Around 4:45 AM, a hastily dressed and bleary-eyed Matthew Perry showed up at Matt's doorstep, wearing his pajama bottoms, slippers without socks, and an old t-shirt from his college days that barely fit him anymore and that he mostly used for bedtime purposes. He was startled to hear some rustling behind him, and for a moment he imagined it was someone who, passing by, had recognized and was about to ask him for an autograph or something. This was exactly not what he needed at all right now!
To his surprise, though, the intruder turned out to be a familiar face. "David?"
"Matthew? Oh, so I guess he wasn't making that part up," replied an equally surprised David.
"Making what up? What are you doing here?"
"Well, he called me at around 4 and told me to come over. He said you were also coming, and that you guys were gonna have some `fun?'"
"Fun? I don't know what the hell he could've meant by that. He's drunk off his ass right now, though, that's all I know."
"Dude, tell me about it. I came over `cuz I was so concerned. I mean, I know they were together for awhile, but divorce is no reason to drink yourself to the grave."
"Hah, you're telling me?" replied Matthew.
"Good point," teased David. Matthew had at least overcome most of his issues and the two of them could easily laugh about it in hindsight.
"Well, anyway, let's investigate, shall we?" suggested Matthew.
"Should we just walk in or knock first? Do you think his wife's home?"
"Her car's not here, she's probably staying with someone else."
"True. Ring the bell."
Just as Matt was about to press the buzzer, the door abruptly swung open to reveal, standing there, a totally disheveled and obviously hammered Matt Leblanc.
"You guysh came! I'm sho happy you're here guys sheeeerioushly!" Matt staggered forward and clumsily threw his arms around his co-stars. Matthew and David propped him up as best as they could and, giving each other covert, concerned glances, brought Matt inside where they lay him down on the black leather sofa in Matt's living room, being sure to confiscate his glass and to remove his shoes so he'd be more comfortable.
"Okay, buddy, we're here, like we promised. Now just lie down here for awhile, and we'll get you some water and talk about things, okay? David, shut the door and get Matt a glass of water," directed Matthew.
Closing the door, David then maneuvered his way into the kitchen. Washing out an empty glass in the sink, David then filled it nearly to the brim with water and rushed it over to the prone Matt.
Sitting upright, Matt asked enthusiastically, "Dudesh is that vodka? Are you gonna drink all that?"
"No, buddy, it's water, and it's for you. Drink it up and let's chat, okay?"
"Dude I'm shooo glad you guysh came over, sherioushly. Melindash a fucking BITCH and I'm sho glad I got rid of her," slurred Matt.
"Man, don't say that," egged Matthew. "She's a great woman and you know it. You just had your differences and it didn't pan out. No big deal, happens to lots of couples. David and I both know how you feel, but don't blame her for your problems."
"She ISH my fucking problem, Maffew," yelled Matt, practically spitting water in Matthew's face. "We had a whole fucking LIFE together and now itsh not working out and I don't know what to do..." Matt broke off. It was evident that the waterworks were going to start rolling soon. Matthew silently motioned for David to find a box of tissues somewhere.
"Dude, listen to us," commanded Matthew. "We're your buddies, okay? And we're here for you for whatever you need. Drinking and moping isn't going to solve everything though, okay? You're a strong guy, and you've been through a lot of shit in the past -- we all have. But we're sure you can get through it, because you're a fighter, and we're on your side, okay? And if there's anything we can do for you, we'll try to do it within reason. But you gotta stop crying first, okay? Promise me that, Matt."
Matt took one of the tissues David held before him and dabbed at his eyes. "You're right guysh, I can't fucking do thish all the time. She can't lord over my life like thish, and I just shound really pathetic right now. But lishen, guys, since you shaid I could have anything I want, theresh something that I would rillyrillyrilly like if itsh `within reashon' as you shay."
Matthew and David listened with concern. "Yeah, man, anything you want."
"Okay, sho like, remember that one time when we did the foot thing?"
"The foot thing?"
"Yeah, like when you guysh tied me to the bed and tickled me?"
Matthew and David gulped. "Dude, we agreed to never mention that again, okay?" said David. The next morning the three men, out of some embarrassment, decided that, as fun as it had been, they couldn't let themselves do something like that again. If anyone ever found out, it would be an embarrassment for all concerned, and potentially career suicide in this conservative day and age. No agent would ever hire them if they found out the three of them were closet pervs.
"No guysh I know but sherioushly just lishen to me. You shed I could have anylilthing I wanted, and right now, I know it wash weird and all and we shed we woont do it again but guysh, I rillyrilly want to do that foot thing again, because it wash fun and I'm jusht totally shick of women right now. You undershtand, right?"
Matthew quickly responded, "Matt, I really don't think we can do this. First off, you're drunk as hell and your mind isn't in the right place. Second, even if you're divorced, you've still got kids, and what kind of example - "
"Look dude I don't CARE what kind of `exzzzample' I'm shetting for anyone," replied Matt belligerently. "All I know ish I'm drunk and mizrable and I want shome fucking relief already. It'll be fun guysh, trusht me!"
David and Matthew looked at each, unsure how to proceed. They had to admit, that one experience was, for all of its, well, unconventionality, was still totally a blast. Each of them silently shelved it as an event to be remembered, and in their pursuant sexual encounters with women and girlfriends, each of them had visualized the experience once or twice when they were desperate to get it up. Still, that was just a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and something that never needed to be repeated again. Not just because it would ruin the memory of that first time but also because it was, in a way, sort of sick and gross at the same time. Also, it would seem like exploitation if they were to take Matt up on his offer right now, since he was clearly plastered and not of sound mind.
Matthew started, "Look, Matt, we love you and all, but - "
"Well," interrupted an impatient Matt, "if you rilly loved me, you'd fucking shtart licking my feet allllready." Sitting up, Matt fumbled to remove his white athletic socks. Peeling them off, he threw them across the room and stretched his legs out so as to nearly flaunt his bare feet for David and Matthew. "Have at it, fellash!"
The two men looked at each other again, nervous about how to proceed. The thought that it would be taking advantage of their poor friend crossed their minds once again. On the other hand, good friends help each other out, and really, licking his feet wasn't that high on a list of potentially unreasonable requests.
Kneeling down at the foot of the couch, David took Matt's right foot into his hands and Matthew grabbed the left. They immediately were reminded of the last time they had done this, when an innocent prank had turned into an unexpected sexual encounter. As before, this evening had started out, and was indeed about to end, with a totally unexpected twist of events.
Cocking their heads down, David and Matthew each slipped their mouths over Matt's big toes and started to gently suck on the fat digits, letting the odor of Matt's feet drift into their nostrils and allowing their saliva to build up in their mouths, completely drowning his big toes in swathes of spit. Rolling their tongues along the nails and backs of the toes, they then slipped their mouths off and each man, as though working in tandem, began to suck successively on the remaining toes on Matt's feet. The two men methodically sucked and licked on each of Matt's toes, basting them all with their saliva and letting it dribble down Matt's tops and soles. They licked the undersides of the toes and wormed their tongue in the spaces between them, their tongues slithering like snakes in and out of the narrow spaces. Once they'd each established a rhythm, they found themselves getting into the swing of things, and each man began to remember quite fondly licking Matt's Vaseline-smeared feet so many years ago.
Matt, in his drunken ecstasy, was delighted as fuck that his friends were giving him a helping hand by releasing some of his tension. The feel of their tongues sliding and slithering along his toes and the sensation of their warm mouths encapsulating each and every one of his toes was a joy he hadn't experienced in three years, since Melinda refused to do anything of that nature to him. Every time she refused the offer, he had begun to think of that night with increasing frequency and had even incorporated it into a few of his wank sessions, which he immediately felt guilty for after climaxing. Right now, though, he was drunk, and passion ruled over pragmatism. He didn't want anything else right now than his two guy friends licking his feet.
Matthew and David, for their parts, were also enjoying themselves. The aroma of feet didn't take long to get used to, and Matt's didn't smell too bad. The sweat on his feet, plus the sneaker smell, made it kind of hotter in a raunchy sort of way. The two men never thought, and indeed, with Matt, had swore that they would never do this again, but this opportunity which they'd taken had proven to be too good to pass up.
Going for the whole hog, Matthew and David had begun to run their tongues up and down Matt's soles, slathering both of his feet now with their spit. All three men were starting to grow hard at this incredibly erotic activity which shouldn't have been as erotic as it was, but when you're caught up in the moment like they were, it was pretty pointless to argue about ethics and morals; it just felt really good, and that's all that mattered. Matt was no doubt feeling much more cheered up as a result of their devotion, devotion to both his feeling good and, on a more tangible level, to his feet. The two men lavished Matt's feet with their tongues, attacking his vulnerable toes and his pink, exposed soles with frenzied glee, enjoying the distinct taste and odor of his sweaty feet. The cuckoo clock in Matt's living room had struck five. Neither Matthew nor David had imagined as they went to bed a mere four hours ago that this was the wake-up call they would receive!
In the middle of their foot worship, Matt suddenly withdrew his feet from their admirers. Matthew and David bolted up, with a bit of awkwardness as the two men were now both sporting wood. "What's wrong, Matt?"
"Nothing, guysh, that wash aweshome," slurred Matt, who was still far from sober. "But I kinda have another requesht, if you don't mind,"
"Name it," said David and Matthew simultaneously, instantly revealing their hands, as it were.
"Well, you know how lasht time I wash all tied up on the bed while you guysh were getting me off? Well I never got a chance to reship...reshipro...to do the shame to you," stuttered Matt. "And I'd like to try becaush I think you'd like it."
Matthew and David hesitated. They'd complied with his friend's request to make him feel better, but this was a bit different. He was now begging to suck their toes, and since Matt was still really drunk, this was considerably more exploitative than the other way around. Still, their reason lost out to their libidos, and both men complied with Matt's wishes, knowing they'd probably regret it in the morning but not really caring to think ahead at the moment.
Matt stumbled off the couch so as to give his friends room to sit down and prepare themselves. Seating themselves, Matthew slipped off the Hush Puppies slippers he had put on in the rush of getting here, while David untied and pushed off his old Nike sneakers and thentook off his white socks. The two men were now sitting upright and barefoot on Matt's leather couch.
Matt got right down to business. Kneeling down in front of them, in an almost supplicant manner, Matt took Matthew's feet in his hands and began to suck on his toes, giving each one equal attention with his lips and tongue. His technique was considerably clumsier and less gentle than Matthew and David's, a fact obviously owing to his intoxication, but to Matthew it still felt nonetheless fantastic to have his friend and co-star sucking on his feet. Matt's mouth slurped and sucked loudly on his toes and his saliva, which had been replenished only slightly by the water he had just drank, was dribbling everywhere, all down the tops of Matthew's feet and along his instep and down his soles as well. He ravished Matthew's feet with great gusto, worshipping his meaty soles and his plump, hairy toes with his roving pink tongue. Matt wasn't thinking at all about the next morning when he'd wake up hungover as shit with a fuckload of regret; he was living in the here and now and having a total blast while doing so.
Leaving Matthew's feet alone for a second, Matt scuttled over to his right and began to turn his attention to David's feet, taking both of his strong, muscular feet into his hands. He clapped his feet together and took both of his big toes into his mouth, sucking on them together in the same way you'd eat a popsicle with two sticks. He swirled his tongue around the combined circumference of the two toes before slipping his mouth off and letting his tongue slide along the undersides of his toes, collecting some of the saliva that was dribbling out of his mouth and sucking it back in, relishing the taste of the foot-laden spit. He continued worshipping David's feet, running his tongue along the hairy tops and along the fleshy backs of his feet, smothering them with kisses and licks and slurps.
All three men were writhing with pleasure at this particular moment: Matt from drunkenly indulging in the pleasure of servicing another guy's feet with his tongue and mouth, David from the enjoyment of having his feet worshipped by his friend, and Matthew from watching his former Friends co-stars engaging in hot footplay right after Matt had just worshipped his feet and toes. None of them could've imagined being embarrassed this right now even if they tried. So long as Melinda didn't suddenly come home in the middle of the night, there was nothing to be worried about. They'd still be friends after this; if there was a minimum of awkwardness last time, this time around everything would also be cool.
After Matt had practically dehydrated himself by slobbering all over his friends' feet, he got up and, still tipsy from the whiskey, tried and failed at undoing his belt. David could sense what he was trying to do. "What's going on, man?"
"I'm shorry guysh, that was sho fucking hot that I need to take my pantsh off, they're kinda shtarting to chafe me yknowhamean?" drawled Matt in his husky Boston accent.
"Yeah, I think I understand," replied Matthew, who began to pull down his own pants at the same time. David got up and helped Matt undo his belt buckle. Looping it out from around his waist, David then proceeded to undo his friend's button-fly and push his pants down, helping him to maneuver out of his constricting clothing. Stepping out of his own sweatpants, he kicked them off to the far corner of the room. All three men were now standing there with visible tents in their boxers.
"Well, while we're at it guysh letsh jusht get bareash nekkid eh?" suggested Matt. The other two guys had no problem whatsoever with this idea, and all of them began to undress, lifting their shirts over their heads and easing out of their boxers. The three guys were now standing there completely buck naked, their cocks at attention and rapidly accumulating pre-cum, their feet soaked in saliva and slightly cold, being exposed to the chilly living room air.
"So, are we gonna do something, or what?" asked Matthew, clearly impatient to get off.
"Yeah, we are, and I've got a grrreat idea," slurred Matt, who asked the other two guys to sit down on the floor in a triangle formation. The three men planted their bare bottoms on the carpeted floor, with David sitting at Matt's right and Matthew at his left, with David and Matthew sitting next to each other. Matt stuck his feet out until his big toes touched the shaft of Matthew's penis, and he began to fondle the hard cock with his feet, pawing at it like a kitten at a scratching pole. Both men were keen to pick up the idea, and Matthew stretched his feet out until David's prick rested against his soles. David, following suit, extended his feet and was able to trap Matt's cock between his toes. The three men fondled each others' cocks with their slick bare feet, rubbing their toes against one another's shafts and batting their stiff rods around with their soles.
David then began to move his toes up and down Matt's cock, in effect jerking him off with his feet. The other two men picked up on this and did likewise, Matt gripping Matthew's cock between his soles and Matthew sliding the skin over the head of David's dick using just his feet. The three men then began to pump each other's dicks, jacking each other off with their feet. Everything around them was silent except for the grunts and thrusts of the three men in their sexual frenzy. The last time they had done this, Matthew and David had jerked each other off with their feet, and both men had cum on Matt's feet, but all three men doing this to each other wasn't something they'd tried, and frankly, it was totally awesome. None of them felt any self-consciousness about what they were doing by this point, and instead were absolutely loving every second of it.
The more vigorous their foot jobs became, the more intense the pressure in their loins. All three men were leaking copious amounts of pre-cum by this point, and their bodies were collecting sweat thanks to the rigorous activity that their current sexual positions entailed. The saliva from their foot-worship frenzy acting as a makeshift lubricant, Matthew, Matt and David intensified their speed, furiously jerking one another's cocks with their feet in an effort to bring each other off. As great as the sensation would've felt if they'd just prolonged it, all three men were now also desperate to blow their loads and release the incredible pressure they were feeling in their dicks. Their cocks were numb with the sweet pain of sexual stimulation, and it was only a matter of seconds before all three men were brought to their boiling points.
Sure enough, Matt began to buck his hips, thrusting his cock in and out between David's toes. His balls drew up tight beneath him as Matt threw his head back in total sexual thrall. With a loud groan, Matt arched his hips upward and a long, thin, ropey strand of cum burst out of his cock, flying a foot in the air before ascending all over David's feet. Several more quick and less forceful sprays jerked in a staccato motion out of Matt's twitching cock, the remaining contents of his drawn-up balls gushing fountain-like out of his dick and dribbling onto David's toes and soles. David released his grip on Matt's cock and concentrated instead on the pleasure that Matthew was providing to his cock, knowing full well that he was gonna cum at any second.
Tensing up, David felt the urge to shoot rising in his irritated cock. Closing his eyes and biting his lip, David assisted Matthew in his goal to bring him off by bucking his hips and letting his cock slide in-between Matthew's toes. It was driving David crazy how unnaturally awesome this felt, and much as he wanted this pleasure to last, seeing Matt cum all over his toes and the sensation of the warm, slimy cum oozing down the backs of his feet was altogether too much for the actor to handle. Finally resisting the urge no longer, David groaned and prepared to shoot. A burst of cum shot forth from the tip of his dick, propelled skyward and subsequently landed all over Matthew's feet, oozing in-between his toes and trickling down the tops of his feet. It was followed by several less intense spurts that nonetheless erupted with a considerable force that resulted in Matthew's feet and David's dick being coated in his cum.
After witnessing his two friends cumming, Matthew knew that his turn would be coming shortly. Matt had relented jerking Matthew off with his feet while in the throes of his orgasm, but had resumed again upon seeing David cum all over Matthew's feet. Matt, having basted David's feet with his cum, was now eager to have Matthew's spunk land all over his toes. Even more than that, he anticipated the process of having to clean the whole mess up, no doubt, with his mouth. Maneuvering his cock in and out between Matt's toes, Matthew was starting to feel that tense, twitching sensation that signaled he was ready to shoot. Gasping for air, Matthew let out a sigh and, when he'd reached his breaking point, shot his wad high into the air. Like the others, the thin stream of cum fell onto the feet of the man who'd been jerking him off. Matthew's load flowed like lava out of his burning cockhead, sliding down Matt's toes and coating them with a slimy trail of his semen.
Gasping for breath, the three men lay there in the post-coital glow, their bodies glistening with sweat and their feet covered in each other's spunk. Seeing that their feet were all streaked with semen, and remembering the denouement of their previous excursion into footplay, all three knew the logical conclusion to come to. Grabbing David's feet, Matt ran his tongue up along the sole and in-between the toes, collecting his sperm in his mouth as he went. Matthew then took hold of Matt's feet, and David Matthew's, and the two men joined Matt in scoopingthe slimy secretion off of their feet with their tongues like they were licking the icing off an egg beater. The men delighted in the vaguely salty taste of each others' cum, which nicely complemented the dank, sweaty flavor of their feet, they all thought to themselves. They swallowed the ropey strands of cum with delight, reflecting on how insane it was that they ever thought this was a bad idea that was never to be repeated again.
After the three men were done licking up their wads of cum off of one another's feet, Matt broke the silence that had all but encapsulated the three men during their sexual fury. "Oh god, guys...that felt so good."
"Yeah, it was pretty fucking awesome," said David. "I think it may have been hotter than the first time, right Matthew?"
"Yeah, man. Feet taste much better without Vaseline all over them."
"Yeah, I'll just stick to cum from now on, thanks." David joked.
Matt grinned and closed his eyes. He was sobering up, but all the whiskey, plus the intense sexual activity, was starting to make him sleepy. He knew he had to get up at some point in case Melinda came home to find the startling sight of Matt and his two former co-stars lying completely naked on the floor after an evening of awesome foot sex, but for the moment he was content to lay there among them, basking in the sweet afterglow of his second gay encounter. Matthew and David felt the same way too, their eyes glazed with fatigue, but it was the sort of fatigue that came after an evening of satisfying hard work. As their cocks finally began to go limp, the three men drifted off to sleep, their legs still entangled in one another's and their minds at peace. Matt really did have the best friends a guy could have.