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Thread: have you ever dream of licking the feet of a close relative?

  1. Default Finally! Talk about SLEEPING FEET...

    Wow, it's about time! I only drop by this site occasionally, and hardly ever visit the Forum's, but really glad I did tonight and that I looked more closely at the discussion topics.

    I have always been into feet, since I was a toddler. I used to play Doctor with my Granddad and check his pulse, his reflexes, and then end with a foot massage. He was in his early 50's at the time. Don't ask me why I did this, because at age 2, how the hell could I have known?

    Anyway, for the next 25-years, virtually ALL of the feet I had were of sleeping guys: my stepdad (11's), an older cousin (13's), an uncle (13's), college roommates (10.5's), long-time friends, and even a colleague from work (10's) and within my field of business (10's). I even snuck into the room of a guest at a hotel I worked at and worked his feet (10.5's) for a good 30-minutes while he lay passed out in bed. I got to be pretty bold as I got older! Even wrote a story about that one that I'd gladly share, if anyone is interested.

    The danger of being caught is one of the things that made it so hot and intense. The risk, the dare, the thrill of it. Listening for the pattern of their breathing, the level of snoring, the shifting around in bed and shuffling feet, and slowly moving in for a brush with the top of my hand or a light nudge of the sole with a finger, or gently stroking the tip of the big toe with my lips. All of those were tests to see how soundly he was asleep, and once I was fairly certain, I'd pick up the level of intensity.

    Those were the days! The look, the smell, the feel, the taste (on occasions when I was so big and bad as to lick or suck toes briefly). There is nothing quite like it.

    I actually did get caught by my college roommate one night, and it was amazing that I talked and shamed my way out of him being pissed at me. By the time I left his room, he actually believed that I had been sleepwalking and had no idea how I found myself at the foot of his bed stroking his big bare dawgs! I should have won some sort of acting award for that one. He had the most amazing 13's. Big, wide, beefy, veiny, soft, with the thickest and longest toes. There was no way they were safe around me in the middle of the night! I was back in his room a couple of nights later, doing the same thing, and getting away free and clear.

    I would say I've had a few hundred instances of taking sleeping feet and making them mine. And the list of guys probably runs several dozen long. I'd even go after the feet of my roommate's younger brother Jake, who was sexy as hell from head to toes. Those feet were sensational to see, and even better to feel and smell. Whenever he'd stay at our apartment, he slept on the couch in the living room, and I'd end up out there going to town. Once I stayed at their house, and they shared a room with beds on opposite walls. Yup, you guessed it! Midway through the night, I crept into their room, and before I left, I had my way with both of their sexy pairs of feet.

    Damn, I miss those days! Keep the stories coming, guys. I'm gonna check back every couple of days to see if there's anything new.

    FirstClassFeet

  2. #22

    Default sleeping feet

    Your stories sound so hot! Please share more of them with us First class. I wish you could have taken some pictures of some of those sleeping guys' feet that you played with!

  3. Default

    when i was about 10 or 11 I used to go into my grandad's bedroom and touch his feet, he was 63 at the time. I used to get so hard watching him sleep and touching his soles, I used to just hold them, he was a sound sleeper. HIs feet were rough and calloused, and I thought they were beautiful.

    Sadly he took a stroke and died in 1996 but he had a long illness and in hospital I would rub his feet while he slept. i was with him when he died and his feet were outside the covers, so the last time I saw his feet was when he died. i took one last look at them when he was in his casket but the undertaker had put a pair of black socks on him.

  4. Default

    I was addicted to my older brother's feet. They were size 14. He was around 22 years old and had moved back into my parents' home. I was around nine. Anyway he lounged around on the couch in the rec room, watching TV and I joined him on the other end of the couch. Bri would stretch out and slip his feet under my T-shirt to keep them warm. My belly would be hot and sweaty with his feet. He demanded that I serve him, sandwiches and pop. I was in the palm of his hand, sort of speak, because he would lovingly rest his feet on me. I loved it.

  5. Default

    damn, toejamfunk...that is HOT...did his feet smell very much?

    How tall was he to have bigass size 14s? (MMMmmm...)

  6. Default

    My brother was only 6 feet tall. He's got the biggest feet in the family. They smelled sweaty, rubbery, you might say. To be honest, I wasn't into smells until much later. The mere sight of bare feet turned me on. My brother and I do not get along much but I have to say he was cool in the beginning about sharing his feet. I remember once we were watching the little TV in the kitchen and I tried to play footsie with him under the table, rubbing my toes on his bare feet. He sighed in a tired way, as if to say Here we go again. Bri lifted his big feet and stacked them on my socked feet. He said you gotta get over this man. I jack still thinking about our times together. They were sweet.

  7. Default

    Sorry to hear you two don't get along that well now...but yeah, man, what hot memories...and what BIGASS FEET, MMMmmmm....

  8. Default Relatives

    Man, for YEARS when I was real little, I wanted to get up real close to my uncles and stepdad's feet. I was able to indulge a handful of times with both of them over the years as they slept... that really kicked off my foot fetish!

    To this day, my biggest fantasy is doing a sleeping straight guy's soles.

  9. #29
    Join Date
    Sep 2004
    Location
    Perthshire, Scotland, UK
    Posts
    4

    Default

    Been reading all the stories here - wow! Love all the nocturnal ones where people got on with the feet of their Dad whilst he was sleeping. As I've said on other thread, my Dad's feet were the focus of my foot fetish in my childhood and teenage years....I have loads of stories and experiences I can share, but this one is one of my favourites (100% true):

    It was a sunny evening, and once again Dad had decided to go to bed at 7pm, as per usual for his evening nap. It was a Wednesday so Mum was watching her favorite soap opera on TV. Not ideal of course as it had an ad break in the middle which, of course meant the additional risk that she may come upstairs to the bathroom and catch me in the act. So anyway, I was standing at Dad’s bedroom door awaiting the snoring, which duly started within 20 minutes of him turning in. Already in my stocking feet (no way could I do this in my shoes or slippers). When the theme to Mum’s TV show started downstairs, I slowly turned the bedroom door handle and thud – it opened. I crept in, – Dad was still snoring heavily and his eyes still firmly shut. Game on, I thought! So I continued creeping in the room…..and of course when doing this I was reminded of another one of the foot fetishists enemies – creaky floorboards. The floor seemed to make a crack or a creak every time I made one advance forward. Still, the snoring continued. I decided to go for broke and try and get to the bottom of the bed and lie on the floor in one seamless movement – like a cat.

    Now my heart was pounding heavily and the adrenaline was pumping hard through my body. The danger factor was now very real. The room as ever, stank of Dad’s feet which were now causing me to quickly get hard. So I crouched onto the floor, gingerly scrambled into the correct position at the foot of the bed, and then stretched my legs back out. I looked up and assessed the difficulty of the task ahead. Dad was lying face up, with his toes pointing upward. Unfortunately he was right underneath all the covers, rather than just under the quilt which meant I had two layers of sheets to undo. And so, in an area approximately underneath where the feet were lying, I pushed my hand in the gap between the bed base and the mattress, and felt for the end of the top blanket. My fingers were trembling so much with fear and excitement, but they grasped the end. And started pulling gently at first, but then started pulling faster as I gained more confidence. By now my hardon was raging at the thought of what was lurking under this blanket and I could feel the cold drip of precum in my pants

    The top blanket, after what seemed like miles of material finally popped loose. It was important to pull out enough of it so that a head’s width at least could enter the bottom of the mattress. But then a heartstopping moment came from the living room. I heard the dreaded theme from the television downstairs that signalled the ad break had started. Damn. 15 minutes couldn’t have passed THAT quickly could it?? Funny how time flies when you mind is occupied. Almost immediately I tensed up my arms and legs, like a cat ready to pounce, just in case I had to abort quickly and run out the door if Mum did indeed come upstairs. I took a deep breath, but in a way this little intermission was good. I was so horned up by this point with anticipation of what I was trying to do , I had already felt the unmistakeable tingle and twitch of my testicles moving jizz to the base of my cock. My cock and balls were now firmly now at Defcon One, and ready to fire. At this stage premature ejaculation would have been a disaster given how close I now was to the prize. I stared up at the ceiling and took deep breaths through my mouth, so not to smell any more of the foot odour coming from the bottom of the bed. Think about anything but feet, anything but those socks, try and ignore that raunchy smell….let the heart rate stabilise and my cock would retreat. Slightly.


    Of course, unbeknownst to me was that I was actually practicing the art of cum control. I had successfully taken myself to the brink and pulled back, and only meant that the final explosion when it came (pardon the pun) would be all the more intense. And of course the sexual tension was building anyway since sooner or later I’d hear the theme from Mum’s TV show downstairs which would sound again to indicate it was safe to proceed. It duly did – and my heart started racing again. Dad was still snoring deeply, and the pitch of his breathing now indicated he was in a deep sleep. My cock started to harden and tingle again as I inserted my hand between the mattress and the bed base, and fumbled to find the end of the actual bed sheets. I gingerly started pulling on them, just like I had done with the blanket, a little bit more, and little bit faster until the end came free. My heart was pounding again – as I pulled out another head’s width of bedsheet. I adjusted my position and lay on the floor a bit flatter, so I could separate the top and bottom sheets and get my head between them, draping the top sheet behind my head. I looked up and could now see over the top of the mattress. I moved my head up slightly into the void, and then I got my first proper , unadulterated hit of the raunchy odour of Dad’s feet. It took my breath away as my cock leapt up to full erection and throbbed harder. Down Boy!!! – I thought…we’re not there yet….

    Another check on the breathing and if it was still safe……it was…then I pushed my head up further until, finally the two big beasts I had been lusting after came into view. There they were. His burgundy red boot socks, the well worn ones I loved him wearing as an infant - those big deep arches. I looked like… a set of jaws awaiting their prey. Which was me. By now I knew the slightest wrong move could be fatal. If Dad sensed something was going on at the bottom of the bed he’d suddenly awake and I’d be busted with no escape route, and no plausible excuse for being there. But by now the thought of getting close and personal to his big stinky feet had thrown all logic out of the window. Equally I had to move my legs gingerly too – with my cock once again on the brink, one sharp movement could trigger orgasm and the end of proceedings. But now there was no turning back – It was time to go for broke. I felt my body lift up so that my head went right up between his feet. I rested my chin on the mattress. Initially, I stared straight up towards the top of the bed, I could see Dad’s underwear framed by his big meaty thighs, I then trained my eye down his hairy leg until I was looking at his right foot – literally a couple of centimetres from my face. I could feel the heat radiating from it, and looking at the sock up close, it was damp and matted with sweat, his toe imprint clearly visible on the sole, the fabric on the heel part was slightly creased.
    I gently and tenderly moved my nose closer to the toe of his right foot and took a small sniff, almost like you take a sip of a fine wine, and the smell was now even richer and more intense, cheesy foot sweat mixed with boot leather. It was quite unlike the smell you get from socks when they dry out in the laundry basket, or the ones which had had time to cool down lying by the bed, these smelled positively ALIVE….. with my heart pounding as if it was going to bounce out of my chest any minute and the end of my rod now tingling as if it was connected to the electric supply. Yet I was now caught between having to end this experience by gyrating my pelvis to bring on an orgasm, or enjoy the next few precious seconds next to his big sexy foot just a little longer.

    What happened next I couldn’t have made up. Dad grunted in his sleep, and for one terrible moment I thought he had woken and I was history. But no, he flexed the ankle of his right foot right back away from my nose so as to stretch his sole out. Almost instinctively, I and moved my face in to follow it, in the hope that his stinky foot would rub on my face when it relaxed again. But then his left leg moving and then I felt a draught ……his LEFT foot moved across and settled at the back of my head…. just as his right foot relaxed and the stinky, sweaty toes pressed into my face and curled over my nose., and my head was now clamped like a vice between both feet. They held it there for a few seconds. The waves of sexual tension began to overwhelm me Oh fuck ……this is it – take me you two big stinking beasts – with my nose now implanted in the toe well of his foot, I gently sniffed the full force of his foot stink before my cock could take no more. Totally involuntarily, it released its jizz – one of the most intense squirts I had experienced, except it must have squirted at least four or five times – it was so intense that I actually grunted as I began to sniff really deeply as I released my passion for his stinking foot. Almost immediately the post-masturbatory shame kicked in as I recovered. Oh my god, what am I doing???? The intense odour that had been so erotic and arousing a mere 20 seconds ago now seemed positively vile and disgusting. More worringly – how the hell do I get out of here?? Somehow I had to extricate myself from between his feet without waking him. With the cold sweat of reality setting in, and the feeling of cold spunk running down the inside of my thigh, and the slight feeling that the last 20 minutes of intense effort has been something of a waste of time I slowly pulled my head back away from these disgusting tweezers.

    I slowly moved my head off the edge of the mattress, and out of the bed. Clearly there was no time to do up the bedsheets again if nothing had happened…..I didn’t want to push my luck just in case Dad had really awakened from this experience. Slowly, I crept out of the room and closed the door.

    And yes….I still have those socks.

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