The following is a work of fiction centered around the fulfillment of a long-suppressed foot fetish fantasy held by Drew for his high school crush turned college best friend Joshua. It contains depictions of foot worship, oral sex, and some cannabis use, so click away if that sounds unappealing. To those of you who reached out with compliments for my other stories posted on Nifty, thank you and I'm sorry about the verb tenses; I think I've gotten better over the past couple years. Specifically, I appreciate the requests for a second part of my story "The Foot Fetish Diaries". However, though I won't completely rule out the possibility of a Part 2, the premise doesn't really excite me any longer and I have no plans to finish the second part at this time. If you're here from my Instagram (@queerfootboy98), I hope you enjoy writing longer than 2200 characters, including spaces. I thoroughly enjoyed writing and editing this story, and I look forward to writing another when the right idea strikes.
Drew Anderson raced into the parking lot adjacent to the building containing his first class of the day, the first class of his second-to-last semester of college, with only three minutes to get there. He adjusted the collar of the thin, rib knit white polo he wore as he scanned the lot for spaces. Finally, he caught sight of an empty stall; he pulled into the spot, ensured that a human being could access the doors of the cars on either side of him, and began briskly toward his class. Slaps of firm rubber on tile reverberated off the walls of the hallway like a subdivided metronome as he rushed toward room 143. He noticed his sweat for the first time as he spotted his classroom and took a few moments to quiet his breath before gently turning the handle.
"And you might be?" Drew hadn't even taken a step into the room before he was given the attention of the entire class, and a stark silence to fill.
"Drew Anderson," he replied sheepishly, hand still on the doorknob. The professor looked down at his class list, muttering the name to himself.
"Drew Anderson. I know many classes begin at five after the hour, but mine begins at 10 am on the dot. I presume today was simply a misunderstanding?" The professor wore a critical expression. Drew couldn't tell if the joke was meant to be lighthearted or humiliating.
"Yes sir," said Drew, reflexively lowering his head. A poorly contained snicker confirmed the instant shame Drew felt for using the subservient term.
"Well, close the door and find a seat, though you're not exactly spoiled for choice at this hour." To Drew's chagrin, a glance around the room revealed the only open seat to be in the direction of the giggling he heard. His embarrassment became relief when Drew recognized Joshua grinning at him beside the open seat.
Drew and Joshua `met' in high school, though the two rarely spoke. They graduated from a school near Minneapolis, Minnesota, and with a class size of nearly 1000 students, common interest or happenstance were the only ways to meet new friends. Drew was 5'10" and slightly chubby with short, curly hair. Shy and friendless in middle school, he discovered musical theater in high school, came out, and found a personality. Though he didn't discover the passion for the craft which might have encouraged him to continue it into college, the theater brought Drew friends for the first time in years.
Joshua Addams was different. 6'3" and athletic, he was the premier point guard not only at his own school, but in his athletic conference. In high school, he was at every party Drew made fun of while smoking weed with his theater friends, consistently dated the prettiest girls in the school, and elicited more attention shooting a free throw than Drew could muster throwing himself a parade through Main Street. However, this adolescent hierarchy never stopped Joshua from being kind to Drew, or any other `weird' kid, and Drew took note. Of course, he would never share even this with his friends; etiquette dictated that jocks and theater geeks never associate, let alone develop crushes on them. Not to mention the more carnal ideas which ran frequently through his mind. A shared gym class and the blessing of the alphabet cast Joshua as a series regular in Drew's jack-off fantasies, which generally centered around his feet, and what they might feel like covering his face. Try though he might to manifest a deeper relationship with Joshua, the two graduated having shared little interaction beyond the exchange of pleasantries.
On his first day of college at the U of M, Drew was surprised to see Joshua sitting near the front his Calculus II lecture. He had never taken Joshua for an idiot, but Drew hadn't expected him to test into the same math class as he had. Drew wondered what Joshua's major was, wondered if it was smarter than his, wondered what it meant for one major to be smarter than another. By the same alphabetic grace that filled Drew's high school spank bank, Drew and Joshua were sat next to each other for yet another semester.
The longtime acquaintances first connected over a shared tendency to be late, and Drew was soon shocked to learn Joshua was an even bigger teacher's pet than he was. Their professor dubbed them the "Tardy Boys" during one of their many run-ins late into said professor's office hours, where they later learned they were both engineering majors. Walking to their cars together after class became studying together, which became eating lunch together, which became going to parties together, and by Christmas break the two were visiting each other's hometowns. They rented a house with mutual friends – another guy and two girls – their sophomore year. Since their junior year, Joshua had lived with a couple of his teammates, and Drew had stayed in a three-bedroom apartment with the two girls. Blessed with the biggest room, Drew's couch became a fourth bedroom in the apartment, reserved for Joshua if the two needed to study late into the night, or if Joshua was sick of doing jock things.
Drew's sexuality was a non-factor in their friendship. Further, his attraction to Joshua was no longer pressing; Drew had grown less horny with time and had even been in relationships at various point in college. That didn't mean he had forgotten about Joshua's gorgeous size 11 feet. Albeit no longer a part of Drew's fantasies – he found that too strange given their close friendship – he would sneak glances when he could, and always appreciated a beach trip in the summer. One night, both boys certainly drunk and probably also high, Joshua demanded a foot massage. Drew made sure to make a grand showing of his reluctance before complying, casually putting a pillow on his lap, and silently allowing himself to make an exception on his masturbation fantasy rule for this. Maybe several.
As Drew sat and the attention of the other students toward him faded, Joshua muttered, "Sick entrance,"
"Fuck you. Wanna come over tonight? Empty house, so you don't have to watch The Bachelor with the girls and the gay,"
"Hell yes. The roomies are going to the bars, and I don't feel like hunting for pussy all night,"
"Good. I would like to get too stoned to move,"
"Did Dwew get a widdwe stwessed fwom being late?" teased Joshua with an exaggerated toddler's lisp.
"Dwew is stiw sweating," His baby voice was less enthusiastic; he leered at the professor to make sure he wasn't in for another volley of criticism.
"I think you should be calling me `sir'?" Joshua whispered, exchanging his impish grin for a reproving sneer.
"I think you should suck my fucking balls and stop talking to me," Drew was glad Joshua wanted to come over. The anxiety of a new routine tended to weigh on him the night before school began and hanging out with Joshua was always relaxing. The first day of class always left him exhausted, so he was looking forward to the reprieve.
Three heavy raps on the front door indicated Joshua's arrival. The knocking startled Drew while he was studying the craftsmanship of the joint he had finished rolling about half an hour prior. Joshua told Drew he would be over at 7:30. At 8:30pm sharp, he set the joint down and walked out of his room toward the front door, opening it to the smiling face of his friend.
"Hey! Sorry I took so long," Joshua claimed, though Drew knew he was the only one of the pair who felt any guilt about his chronic tardiness.
"It's all good. Make yourself at home," he assured his friend as they walked back into his spacious, well-organized bedroom.
"I will. It looks like you were just on my bed," said Joshua, gesturing to the couch Drew had gotten up from.
"Shit. I forgot to make it,"
"It's fine. As long as you tuck me in tonight,"
"It would be my honor," replied Drew with mock adulation. Drew sometimes wondered if these types of playfully intimate, lightly domineering jokes meant anything. Regardless, he always played along. "Do you want a beer?"
"I thought we were smoking weeeeeeed, bro," Joshua cried in a voice like a Sublime superfan.
"I don't wanna, like, get hammered, bro," Drew said, mimicking the voice, "but I got some sick brewski's from Hannah for my birthday and we should, like, have one," he said, and left for the kitchen as Joshua said something about how, like, actually, that sounded pretty tubular.
When Drew returned to his room, two uncapped beers in his left hand, Joshua had his shoes off and was scrolling through his phone with his back against the armrest of the couch, legs placed straight in front of him, feet a half a cushion away from where Drew had left his phone. Drew picked up the phone and sat back where he had been, the soles of Joshua's socked feet inches from his left thigh. Briefly noting an unwanted notification from some foot dom he had been talking with, he made a mental note to change those settings and placed both beers on the table, exchanging them with the tightly packed joint and a Bic. Placing the filter between his lips, he flicked the lighter. After a sizable inhalation, he passed the gateway drug to Joshua, who took it and did the same. As they smoked, they talked about what to watch, and by the time the filter was smoldering in the ashtray, both boys were deeply engrossed in a YouTube playlist of music videos.
Reclining at an angle which allowed him to sneak a peek or two at the feet beside him when he checked his phone, Drew kicked his own shoes off and propped his feet on the coffee table. There was a dull lamp light creeping out from under the door of his bedroom, but the T.V. provided the only other illumination in the room, save for the occasional text message notifications and replies.
Following some ten minutes of silence, Joshua bent his right knee, brought his ankle to his hands, and removed his sock. He did the same with the other, tossing the socks on the floor beside the couch, near his shoes.
"Hope you don't mind," said Joshua, absentmindedly wiggling and scrunching his toes, "but it's so fucking hot outside, and we practiced for like three hours today."
"It's all good, bro. It still smells more like weed than anything in here," replied Drew with a laugh, bending his knees and shifting his feet to the edge of the coffee table to conceal a possibly escalating situation.
"Are you absolutely positive? I can smell my socks from here," he said matter-of-factly. "If you want, I can go wash my feet or something."
"It's legitimately fine, dude," replied Drew indifferently, or so he hoped, "I can't smell anything."
"Well, in that case," said Joshua mischievously. Drew looked over at him with his hand down by the floor next to the couch. "Look over there!" Joshua called, pointing with mock enthusiasm in the opposite direction. Drew rolled his eyes and slowly rolled his head away from Joshua and soon felt the anticipated soft thud of a sock against the back of his head. Drew turned back and picked up the sock, first pump-faking it, then throwing it back, aiming for and hitting him squarely in the nose. Joshua tore the sock from his face and threw it on the floor with a mix of feigned and real disgust. "There's no way you `don't mind' that," claimed Joshua, genuine disbelief in his voice. Drew was still pretty certain Joshua didn't suspect him of being into feet at all, although his mind snapped back to the notification that had popped up while he was away.
"I don't know what to tell ya," said Drew, emphasizing his exasperation. He knew he should just say something about the show they were watching, or about school, or anything. `Oh, I forgot to tell you: something something something,' was as much as his brain could muster. The only coherent thing to come to mind was, "I mean, I can smell them, but it's not bad enough that you need to get away from me or go wash your feet or anything,"
Joshua appeared to think for a moment. "Okay. Well. I did say I had a long, grueling, practice today..."
"What about it?" prodded Drew, already assuming what Joshua was intimating, yet attempting to salvage his plausible foot fetish deniability.
"When you're running around a lot, not only do your feet get smelly," Joshua said, pausing before adding, "or like-kind-of-smelly-but-not-that-bad," Drew rolled his eyes again, "but they also get sore,"
"Ah," said Drew. The last time this happened, the two were very drunk, and Drew thought Joshua might not remember that incident. He had begged for a foot massage in the joke baby voice for minutes, so even if he did remember, Drew had always assumed it would be as a joke. This time, he would only insinuate that he wanted a foot rub. Drew didn't want to be too eager, but now he was even more cognizant of the notification, and was beginning to think this was more of a knowing teasing than a favor Joshua was hesitant to ask.
"Yeah,"
"That's a problem,"
"Sure is," Joshua was too confident for this not to be a game. He would just ask if he really wanted a foot rub that bad. Was he fucking with him, Drew wondered? Was he into feet? Maybe he didn't see the notification. Maybe he just knows anyway, maybe it's that obvious. Maybe he is just being weird about asking. They were stoned, after all. Drew's mind was whirring, but he knew one thing: he needed to say something.
"Do you want a foot rub?" Drew felt like his mouth alone formed the words and hurled them out before his brain could have a say.
"Oh man, that would be awesome," Joshua said. Sinking further into the couch, he extended his feet into Drew's lap before he could find a pillow to put there. Joshua's feet were side-by-side, now resting on his inner-left thigh. Up to this point, nerves had solved any worries he might have had about a boner. Now with Joshua's heels on his leg, soles pointed toward his dick, he knew he would have to proceed with caution.
Scrambling for a justification, Drew said, "No problem, man, we're just sitting here anyway," Joshua let out a short giggle. Too choked by nerves and excitement to notice the laugh, Drew moved his feet to the ground and extended them below the coffee table, giving him easier access to the feet in his lap, and in the same motion shifting his growing cock between his stomach and waistband. He hoped Joshua didn't notice the maneuver as he began massaging his left foot, the one closest to his body. From his vantage point, he was able to clearly see the sole of Joshua's right foot as it scrunched and rotated while he massaged the left. He kneaded his thumbs into the warm, soft flesh of Joshua's sole in slow, strong circles on his arches. Moving down to his heel and eventually back up to the ball of his foot he continued this motion. Transferring his focus, he pressed his thumbs horizontally, below the medium length, succulent toes he so wanted in his mouth. Joshua's feet were almost pillowy, Drew thought. He finally reached his fingers to Joshua's toes, taking care to massage each one thoroughly, rolling each toe generously between his fingers. After this he spent a couple more minutes on the left foot, this time running his thumbs and hands more quickly up the length of Joshua's foot. Nearly entranced watching the skin move beneath his hands, he could still that Joshua was enjoying it and made note of a couple sighs.
Drew eventually set down the left foot and moved to the right, repeating a similar process. This time, he studied the top of Joshua's left foot, which had been hidden before. He noted how beautiful the veins were, how they were perfectly pronounced. He liked how Joshua's big toe had a small tuft of hair on it, and how his toes would occasionally wiggle ever so slightly. He thought the arch of Joshua's foot was perfect, too. It wasn't incredibly high, but it was pronounced. His toes weren't long, but they weren't short, and his nails were cut for practicality, not aesthetics. Having lied through his teeth about the smell, the aroma of a three-hour basketball practice was unmistakable, and Drew delighted in every breath.
"Enjoying yourself?" It was the second time that night Drew had been startled out of a trance. This time though, he had no idea how long he had been staring. Joshua waited for a reply, and Drew tried his hardest to stammer out anything, but all he could do was stare back at Joshua, feet still in his hands, now unmoving. "I thought you might take a drink or two of your beer or make some conversation, but you've been transfixed," Joshua said, almost in awe.
"Um, I'm, um, sorry..." muttered Drew, dropping Joshua's gaze.
"I don't know what you're sorry about, it feels fucking phenomenal," replied Joshua.
"Oh, uh, I don't, uh..."
"It's cool that you're into feet, man. It's been fun teasing you, though. Could I have gone longer? Sure. Could I have just never brought this up again, leaving you hilariously confused? There was at least a fifty percent chance of it. But clearly you love this somehow even more than I do,"
"How do you know?"
"Know what?"
"Fuck you,"
"I saw your phone when you went to the kitchen. I thought it would be fun to just get you to rub my feet and see if you ever balls-ed up and told me. But... I also know that foot worship is a thing, and since you're clearly super into feet," Joshua playfully tapped Drew's nose to accentuate the point, "I'm extremely curious what it feels like,"
"You want me to worship your feet?" Drew clarified, in near disbelief at the prospect. Drew had so effectively eliminated Joshua from his sexual fantasies. Now, he would surely be a staple, and Drew didn't know what to think, what to feel. A lot of Drew's guilt hinged on the assumption that Joshua would be reasonably creeped out by sexual interest from a friend. Drew was beginning to see that line might be more flexible than he had imagined. He took a deep breath and told himself to just let Joshua lead the way.
"I think more accurately, you want to worship my feet," said Joshua, again tapping his nose with each exaggerated word.
"What makes you think your feet are so special?" said Drew, leaning into the teasing.
"Other than the hypnosis that just happened? Maybe this?" Joshua said, as he took his foot and lightly slapped Drew's dick, still sheathed in his waistband, though clearly not well-concealed.
"You got me there," said Drew, snatching the foot back into his hand.
"Well? Get started then," Drew didn't need any more direction. Now emboldened by the discovery of his secret, he lifted Joshua's left foot by the ankle with his right hand, bringing the heel to his mouth. He extended his tongue and licked slowly up the length of Joshua's still sweaty foot until he reached his toes, taking the big toe into his mouth. Lightly bobbing up and down on it, he swirled his tongue around the diameter, noting every detail. After a forceful suck, he let the toe out of his mouth with a pop and shifted his lips and tongue to the ball of his foot, beginning to massage the right foot with his left hand as he did this. He kissed the ball of Joshua's foot, allowing his tongue a lavish amount of time in contact with the salty skin before moving his attention elsewhere on the sole, gently sucking with each successive kiss. He repeated these wet, slurping kisses down the sole of his foot and to his heel. Once his mouth had reached the heel, he took all that he could between his lips and licked the surface of his heel. When he deemed the heel had been given its due, he ran his mouth up the side of his foot and took Joshua's pinkie toe in his mouth. He sucked on it, took it out, and swirled his tongue around the toe. Although he had not been instructed to do so, he was intent on making sure his feet would be sparkling when he was done. Drew repeated this action with all of Joshua's toes, taking care to give each one an equal amount of attention and lapping between each toe, before enclosing all of them into his mouth at once. His tongue darted between toes and glided over each well-polished digit, which Joshua would wiggle from time to time. Once he had spent enough time on the toes, he took his tongue back to Joshua's soles, alternating between kisses and firm strokes of the tongue.
Most of the time, Drew's gaze was fixed on one of the beautiful feet in front of him. When he would glance up, he caught Joshua adjusting himself a couple times, eyes trained on Drew. His face would alternate between a cocky smirk and an expression of pleasure. After Drew felt he had spent enough time on the left foot – he wondered if he had spent more time massaging or worshipping the foot – he moved to the right foot, repositioning slightly so his right hand could more easily massage the left foot while his mouth was focused on the right. While Drew had never worshipped Joshua's feet before, the same couldn't be said of many Minneapolis area gay men. Drew took pride in his ability to worship feet. It wasn't exactly something for a dating profile, but he had learned that he was charismatic enough to get partners to try it, and good enough that he wouldn't have to be the one to bring it up a second time. Clearly the effect wasn't limited to gay men. Judging from the still frequent glances down at Drew, the power dynamic was providing Joshua pleasure as well as the physical sensation of the foot worship. Drew was ecstatic about that. While he would have been over the moon to simply get the opportunity to worship Joshua's feet, the fact that he also got off on dominating Drew was almost too much to bear.
Drew was certain it had been longer than the massage when Joshua spoke again. This time, there was a more serious tone to his voice. Not angry, but expectant. "Get down on the floor,"
"What for?" said Drew, not quite sure how to respond to this shift from mischief to assertiveness.
"For because I said so," said Joshua. His face switched almost imperceptibly to a wry, amiable wink before moving back to the cocky, assertive smile it had gradual taken so fondly to over the past couple hours.
Drew nodded, resisted the urge to call him `sir', albeit after some thought, and silently got down onto the ground. From there, he saw Joshua swing his feet off the couch and onto his face. Once Drew was in the requested position, Joshua leaned forward to grab the grinder and the bowl Drew had left on the table and began to slowly rub his feet back and forth across Drew's face, pressing down firmly. He began packing a bowl, or so it sounded. It was difficult to see anything from below Joshua's saliva-covered feet. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard the flick of a lighter. He almost pinched himself to see if he was dreaming but thought any stimulation anywhere else on his body might cause him to cum spontaneously. He began lightly kissing and licking the feet being wiped on his face, his eyes rolled back in extasy.
After the weed was finished, Joshua set down the pipe. He adjusted himself slightly on the couch before he lifted up his left foot and moved it to Drew's crotch. For the first time, Drew audibly gasped, and Joshua let out the sexiest snicker Drew had ever heard as he began slowly stroking Drew's cock with his foot. Most of it was still in his pants, but about an inch was poking out of the top. Drew began to devour Joshua's foot once he started doing this, taking it in both of his hands as he passionately licked the soles and sucked on the toes of the once unattainable foot.
Before long, Drew couldn't take it any longer. With one hand, he pressed Joshua's right foot into his face. With the other, he pushed his left foot more firmly into his crotch and began to hump along with the motion of Joshua's stroke. Not a minute later, he shot rope after rope from out the top of his waistband, leaving his shirt soaked in cum. After some time, he realized he was panting and worked to even his breath.
"That was so fucking hot," said Drew, voice muffled by the foot still on his face, his other foot now playing in the jizz near his dick. Drew began to apologize for any possible breach of friendship boundaries as he removed the foot from his face, only to see Joshua's dick barging out of his unzipped jeans.
Looking down and slowly stroking himself, Joshua said with haste, "I've never even thought about guys before, but I fucking agree. We can talk later, but I need to cum right now," Joshua bent down and put his hand behind Drew's back, pulling him up toward his dick. Drew grabbed the hard shaft with his right hand and took the balls in his left. He bent down and took Joshua's balls into his mouth, one by one, swirling each around with his tongue. He then slowly licked up the length of Joshua's cock, tasting precum as he neared the head. Breaking eye contact for the first time since he took Joshua's balls out of his mouth, Drew took in a breath and went down on Joshua's dick. At first, he moved up and down on only the first two or three inches of what was at least a seven-inch cock, his hand doing the rest of the work. He swirled his tongue around the head of his penis, not unlike he had done so many times to each of Joshua's toes. When he was satisfied with his teasing, the first time Drew had been the one granted an opportunity to tease his friend that night, he began taking Joshua's cock further and further into his mouth at a faster and faster pace. Eventually, Drew only needed his forefinger and thumb around the base of Joshua's cock as he bobbed his head up and down, feeling it in the back of his throat with each thrust.
Not long after Drew increased his pace did Joshua's hands find their way to Drew's head. At first, he let his hands go with the rhythm Drew had established, idly playing with his hair and quietly moaning. Then, Joshua began to thrust his hips. Subtle at first, then harder, then vigorously. His hands had found the appropriate patches of hair to latch onto, and before long Drew was more mouth than person, his only task to keep his throat open and his teeth covered while Joshua neared completion. As Joshua grew closer, a new moan came with each thrust, and with each thrust the moans became louder. "I'm coming," Joshua gasped through moans, and Drew used the obligatory warning to shove Joshua's cock into his throat. Undeterred by new depths, Joshua thrusted into Drew's head harder than ever, and soon slammed his dick into Drew's throat for the last time, lining it with the cum Drew had for so long avoided thinking about.
With one final suck, Drew withdrew from Joshua's softening dick. Both guys sat in silence for a moment before the start of a fresh music video on the long-forgotten T.V. reminded them of the passage of time. "Well, I hope that was as fun for you as it was for me," said Drew, beginning to remove his soiled clothes. Joshua looked on in silence, searching for words. "I hope it's fine to change in front of you." He began toward his closet and added with a smirk, "Feels like we crossed that threshold at least one orgasm ago."
"Yeah, no, we did," said Joshua, silent for a moment before he let out a short chuckle. "That. Was wild,"
"It sure was! I won't tell anybody if you don't,"
Joshua considered that. "Cool," More silence. "I would do that again if you would," he said, uncharacteristically apprehensive.
Drew laughed. Making Joshua cum had relived any remaining reservations he had about the night. "How's it feel to be the awkward one?"
"Fuck off! This is well-trodden territory for you, foot boy,"
"And it's gonna be for you, too. I usually get a good reaction, but damn. I don't know if I'll need to eat breakfast tomorrow after that load," Joshua blushed. "I'm available for foot service at any time, sir," Drew said with a wink in his voice.
Laughing, Joshua threw a pillow at Drew, hitting his bare butt before he could pull a new pair of underwear over the area. With a sigh he admitted, "I guess you have a point. That felt incredible,"
"Couldn't agree more. Now, if you would be so kind as to pack me another bowl, I would like to destroy somebody in Rocket League,"