By: Scottyrichardsatl
Part 1
So the first friday I worked at My club, as a straight male, I had made an easy $500 to cover my license. I figured that I would make some similar "Fuck You" kind of money if I went for it all again that Saturday. I slept like 2 hours the night before, tossing and turning from the PTSD of taking my clothes off in front of strangers. Memories flooded my brain, flashbacks of having my pants ripped from me for $20 and framing heads away from my exposed nutsack. I knew that this 2nd night would be no different. I gathered my Supras, my Calvin Klein Underwear, my jeans with the ribs on the knees, a belt, and an easy to tear off shirt and headed into work looking like Justin Timberlake. I clocked in, went to my locker and mentally prepared my tired mind for the events to unfold. I knew it would be worth it though, because I was going to turn my broke ass around and be the Athlete I always wanted to be.
I do a couple of embarrassing stage sets and suddenly I am approached by a slender young German man who said he was in the music industry with a very popular channel. He told me he loved my shoes and wanted to do a room with me. I thought "oh boy, my muscles are going to be tired from fighting this one off".
We make our way into the room and sit down on the couch. Without skipping a beat, he takes me shoes off and tells me to leave the pants. He tells me he is in love with my feet because of the shuffle I was doing on stage and he would like to purchase my socks. $40 was a good deal I figured, I mean That could buy me like 20 more pairs. We continued our room. He placed my bare feet on his crotch while he smothered his face with my socks. I could tell he was hard but I was totally not comfortable with anything more and hoped he would not remove his pants either. With every deep inhale, I could feel a throb under the arch of my feet. It was as if the ground beneath me was alive. Well, the 30 minute room ended pretty quickly. I assume he creamed in his pants or something. But he had asked me to follow up Sunday at his hotel room. Considering I was interested in servicing fetish clients, I figured it was perfect work for me.
We exchanged numbers and I agreed to meet with him as he disappeared into the crowd with my sweaty socks. Unfortunately, I had no extra pairs and was forced to work barefoot in my Supra Hightops for the rest of the evening. I basically made the same amount as the night before and drove home to rest before I ready myself for the final gig of the weekend... My First Hotel Visit...
Part 2
My new, foot loving friend texted me his hotel's address and room number to which I agreed would meet that afternoon. I gathered myself, fresh shave, shaped the Batman logo into my pubes, snapped on my black and silver Calvin Klein briefs, some joggers, threw some American crew in my hair, and hit the road.
On the drive over, I could feel the nerves starting to kick in. Questions raced through my brain. What if he tried to touch me without my consent? What if I walk through the door and it locks behind me? What if I get drugged? All my worry was put at bay because I trusted my instinct from the night before. I could feel this Man's energy and absolutely nothing felt threatening. As The elevator door opened to his floor I felt... surely I had made a good decision and this would be something to remember. I knocked on the door... "surely" I thought.
The door opens, and he greets me. I entered. But behind him, to the left, I could see a king sized bed with ruffled sheets. Scattered throughout that bed was a cornucopia of sex toys. Dildos, butt plugs, cock rings. Enough to stifle any TSA agent as this German man crossed the border. "How......", I thought. This man had brought an arsenal fit for an orgie platoon. Laying there in the spotlight of mid-day sun were the remnants of some sexual war that took place the night before. I maintained a customer service-like smile and continued to exchange greetings while reassuring myself that I was not to be another victim to lust in this room.
Across from the warzone was another bed, abandoned from sunlight as if the show had yet to begin, where the sheets were clean and we made our way over there. He flipped on the lights and I began. 5 minutes of removing my shirt, joggers and hip thrusting the air. There is something challenging about working for an entire hour and trying to fill the gaps with things that are inherently sexual by nature but not flat out sex. I am 22 years old, a little curious, extremely ripped, and frankly not too creative. Alas, as an entertainer, I have no other goal than to entertain my client.
He removed my shoes one by one. And I told him to sit back. I sat criss cross applesauce, then to a butterfly stretch and began my foot show. I rubbed my socks together like hand warmers, then I would slowly run a curled big toe up and down his leg. I could see him biting his lip and breathing heavy. A quick aside, I never thought someone could be so into feet... I heard of this but I never actually thought that I could pay grocery bills off of my deeply arched feet. I quickly became fascinated by the trancelike state I could put another man in by caressing his body with my feet. He removed his shirt (which wasn't really ideal for me because he didn't ask but I let it slide) and exposed his surprisingly 6 pack abs. I rubbed my sock covered toes through the crevices in between his abs and as I cleared the 6th one, I noticed a little throb in his pants. My caress became more of a drag as I hooked his waistline and then let go. At that point, I slid the sock off of my active right foot and smothered his face with my sweaty foot palm. He gasped and fell back, devouring the moment with all of his senses. As was I, I mean this made me feel like a God. We were swept up in this cloud of lust that bent and defied time.
I turned reverse cowboy and pattered his face with my feet while staring at myself in the mirror. "This makes me still straight, right?" As I looked down and felt I could stare through his basketball shorts and meet eye to eye with the one thing conflicting me in this moment... a cock. I tried to ignore it but the entire time I was drawing, painting invisible Mona Lisa's in the air with my feet, I was overwhelmed by the presence of this throbbing hard cock hidden beneath my new client's shorts. "Surely..." "Surely I can contain myself" I thought... Removing my second sock and continued drawing the Abc's with my feet while he viewed them through Junglebook eyes. Until I found myself in a trance too and landed my feet on his shorts.
As my feet landed, he let out a sound that could only notify me that he was relieved. A wave of tension was released into the air and onto me as I felt a massive pool of wetness seeping through his shorts. He came... to my feet... We laid there and talked for 10 minutes about life before I was out the door and that was that. My first gig.