Hey - thanks for clicking on my story.
I'm trying to get into writing and this is only my second ever piece so I would really love to hear your thoughts on this story: both positive and negative. You can get in touch with me at: jacknifty@protonmail.com or by going to my twitter which is: https://twitter.com/JackNifty I'll be posting links to chapters and other materials on there so go check it out.
Disclaimer: Whilst this first chapter doesn't have any, this story will contain sexual acts undertaken by teenagers who are all over the age of consent in the UK, where they live. Any actors playing the roles of these fictional characters in your mind are over the age of 18 and fully consenting. There will be fetishes depicted, namely footplay, socks and trainers. If any of this offends you, or if you are not legally allowed to read this, you should stop now. If you continue then any consequences are your own fault. This is fictional, although aspects may be informed by the real-life experiences of the author. Any similarities or resemblances are purely coincidental.
Then:
In the first chapter, we met Cole, a sixteen-year old secondary school student who was secretly gay. We also learnt about five of his friends, all of whom he'd loved and desired at various points over the last five years. Given what was coming in his future, he also told us about the decision that he'd made to pursue each of them sexually. He desperately wanted them and suggested to us that he was interested in one particular bit of their bodies above the rest: their teen feet.
Now: My Friends' Feet - Chapter Two
So, given that you know about my decision and the fact that I'm recording this story for Nifty, you'd be forgiven for assuming that I found myself immediately in a passionate six-some with all of my friends at once: my dick inside one of them, my arse and mouth full and the others just waiting to take their place as soon as someone finished. But, of course, that isn't what happened because we live in the real world and not inside the fantasies in my mind. Although that would be fun, don't you think? Back in reality, I made that decision and then proceeded to wank myself stupid over the following hour, looking at pictures of each of the boys and imagining what I wanted to do with each of them. Then, nothing happened. Absolutely nothing at all occurred: not a hint, suggestion, opportunity, idea... nothing. My life, and the lives on my friends, carried on as normal. I can't even say that the number of times that I wanked myself into a cum-soaked stupor over them had increased because I spent practically all of my time doing that before anyway. No, everything was as it always had been, until it wasn't.
A little over a week after my birthday, on a Tuesday afternoon (2:05pm to be precise), Fletcher, Caleb and myself were standing in a line waiting for the P.E. teacher to come and open up the changing rooms for our final lesson of the day.
"I hope it's Brown," Fletcher said, that damned Irish accent of his making even the plainest sentence sound sexy.
"Why?" I asked.
"Footie, mate," Fletcher replied, raising his voice, "With Brown, it's always footie and I'm feeling on fine form today."
All I could think in my head was: don't say it... don't say it... Thankfully, after five years, I've become quite good at stopping the more... flirty and sexual thoughts from coming out of my mouth... most of the time.
"It won't be. Ms Woods has got something new she's bringing into the curriculum - wants to try it with all of the Year 11s," Caleb spoke, his voice both lower and softer than Fletcher's.
One of the other lads waiting in the line piped up: "Oh no way: you're not on about that yoga shit. Only girls and fairies wanna do that."
Homophobic slurs were, unfortunately, not uncommon in our school. The staff did what they could but nothing was really documented down so, as far as anyone was concerned, the school didn't have an issue with bullying. I could literally feel myself going red even though it wasn't directed at me: I'm not out in school and have no intention to be given the type of environment it is.
"Hey!" Fletcher jumped straight on it, "Watch your fucking mouth, lad. Don't gimme that shit here, right?"
"Besides," Caleb joined him, "most professional sportsmen do something like yoga or dance to keep themselves flexible. I've been doing it for the last two years."
I could never have confronted someone like that, just didn't have the juice in the school's social hierarchy. The year's two top sportsmen, however, could definitely do that without fear of any repercussions. But even with those two jumping in, the lad still muttered "Fags," under his breath as he turned away. The others didn't hear, but I did and, I'm not going to lie, it stung. When the teacher finally arrived, it turned out to be Ms Woods and I did have a quiet chuckle to myself when I noticed the look on the homophobic lad's face.
Now, it's important that those of you who aren't from the UK understand something here: P.E. lessons in England are not normally as homoerotic as they could be in, say, the States. It's very rare that schools make you shower at the end of the lesson, for example, but that doesn't mean that I'm not able to sneak in a few glances here and there in the changing rooms. And, yes, I'm aware of how bad that makes me sound but as an attention-starved, closeted gay boy, I have to do something. I got changed next to my friends, on the far side of the room. For the most part, everyone tends to just focus on themselves. At least, that's how it had become after Chris Taylor had been punched for, apparently, 'perving' on one of the boys from the bully group. However, given my particular interests, that actually worked for me. Both Fletcher and Caleb quite quickly slipped off their trainers, revealing their socked feet to me. Fletcher was wearing a pair of black no-shows on his slightly larger feet and Caleb, whose feet looked to be around my size, had on white sports socks with grey toes and heels. With absolutely no control whatsoever, I could already feel a tingling in my body and I had to pull my eyes away to stop myself from chubbing up: I definitely needed that not to happen here. Then, just to test me further, both of the boys slipped their socks off and piled them with the rest of their clothes. We didn't actually use lockers; everyone just left their stuff where they'd got changed. But now, I had two beautiful barefoot boys standing right next to me... fucking hell.
Fortunately, I managed to finish changing and get out of the room without the worst happening. When we got into the sports hall, there were already mats laid out so we just picked one and Ms Woods started going through the yoga routine with us. I was particularly happy when she told us to close our eyes right at the beginning because, there was no way I was going to cope watching everyone do these poses. It began with individual work but, part way through, she switched it up on us and told us to find a partner. Immediately, I got a bit of a knot in my stomach because Fletcher and Caleb were bound to go together and leave me having to match up with whoever was left at the end but that's not what happened. As I looked around the room to see who wasn't being picked, I felt Caleb's hand on my shoulder: "Want to go with me?"
"Definitely," I replied, a little too eagerly. It made sense this way though: Fletcher would have no trouble finding another partner to work with - the boy is one of the most popular people in our school. We push our mats together and got ready for the first instruction.
The initial tasks were simple enough: "Sit back-to-back with crossed legs and focus on breathing. Try to match pace with your partner so that you are breathing at the same time." Ms Woods was deliberately putting on a softer, quieter voice which, in all honesty, did made me want to laugh a little. Caleb dealt with this for us and matched his breathing to mine pretty much straight away.
"We're going to do a partner twist. Push against your partner's back and then twist your body to the right." I think the idea was for us to both turn the same amount but Caleb twisted much further than I'd anticipated and I ended up falling backwards, my face landing dangerously close to the sole of his foot. It was only a moment, but for that brief second, it filled my entire vision. I will my brain to take a mental snapshot so that I could recall the shape of his foot, the colours on his skin, everything...
"I'm sorry, Cole," he said, standing up in order to help me back up, "My bad - completely."
We got back into position and continued with all the steps that Ms Wood gave us but I could tell that the little cutie was holding back - he was clearly far more flexible than me.
"Now, face each other and put your legs out in front of you. Match your feet up with your partner's and press against them."
Wait... what?!
My heart was pounded as I felt Caleb press his soles against mine. The warmth of his body radiated out through them and into mine. We were exactly the same size so he must be an eight too (that's UK size so a nine in US sizes). They were... soft... I think... I've never had to use the nerve endings in my feet to try and gather information about something before so I couldn't exactly be sure. Overwhelmed, I didn't even realise that there had been another instruction until my partner was reaching out towards me and looking at me expectantly. "Cole... grabs my wrists..." he laughed as I shifted to what I was supposed to be doing. We had to take hold of each other's wrists and then shuffle ourselves forward whilst lifting up our legs between us, keeping the soles of our feet pressed together.
"Ow!" it escaped from my mouth as I felt the muscles in my legs really start to stretch, "ow, ow, ow!"
"Too far?" he asked me, a slight smile on his face.
I smiled back, though it may have been more of a grimace, "Definitely! Wait... this isn't even a stretch for you, is it?"
Caleb laughed at me. "No," he shook his head.
"Not even a little?" He didn't respond but just shook his head further and blushed slightly. "What would be?" I asked.
Letting go of my wrists, he allowed us both to fall back, our feet separating. I looked over at him and he'd already taken the same position by himself but, this time, he had wrapped his arms around the back of his legs. They were already higher and at more of a severe angle from his body than they had been when doing the partner pose but he wasn't done. "Take hold of my ankles," he said, some strain showing now, " and give me a little more of a push."
My heart was in my mouth as I did as he asked. I could feel the thin blond hair on his legs beneath my palms and both of his bare soles were being offered up to me. Fuck... I was tempted - I really was - but, of course, I resisted. We were in the middle of a P.E. class after all. However, my cock and my brain were not on the same page and I was definitely starting to harden. There wasn't going to be any stopping it either, not with these two beautiful things right there in front of me. I needed to get out of there, as quickly as I could.
"Miss... miss?" I called out, interrupting her instruction, "Can I go to the loo?"
A giggle rippled out from some of the boys. Even at sixteen, some of them still have a very childish sense of humour.
The teacher broke back into her normal voice, leaving behind the soft and delicate yoga tones: "For goodness sake, Cole... be quick about it! We've only got five minutes left."
I ran. I'm not even joking. I dropped his ankles, turned and ran out of the hall and back into the changing rooms. And then I did something really stupid.
You see, the point of me leaving Caleb partner-less was to deal with the fact that I was getting hard and to go back once I'd managed to get control of myself again. So, you'd assume that I would have done things to help that along: think about things that turned me off or try to stop my heart beating at a million miles an hour, something like that. Nope. After getting to my spot in the changing room and being very freaked out for the first ten seconds or so, I realised that I was completely alone.
I was the only one there...
with all these piles of clothes...
including the two for my friends...
which just happened to contain the socks that they'd been wearing all day...
There you go: you've got where my train of thought was heading.
Yes, don't get all judgemental but that's exactly what I did. I'd not had this opportunity before and I didn't know whether I would again so I went full-scale carpe dium and immediately pulled Fletcher's black no-shows from amongst his clothes. They felt damp in my hand - he'd been sweating lots today, probably that footie match he'd played at lunch. If you asked me now, I'd tell you that, one-hundred percent, time slowed down as I brought the pair up to my face. Before they even reached me, I could smell them but, when they finally reached my nostrils, I breathed in the most heavenly of scents. It was almost... salty... definitely a sweaty smell. In fact, I'd be surprised if all of that had come from just today: he might have been wearing them for a couple of days. Eyeing his school shoes, I took a quick look: size 10 so I was right when I said he was bigger than me and Caleb. Shit... Caleb... I let my right-hand fall and used my left to locate the blond teen's socks. I could only find one but, as I pressed the grey toes up against my nose, it didn't matter: Caleb's scent was all over these. Whereas Fletcher's had been what I'd expected - teenage sweaty boy - Caleb's white and grey sock wasn't at all. In fact, it wasn't salty in the slightest: it was almost... sweet... and a stark contrast to the black trainer socks belonging to the ginger boy.
I stood there, alternating which hand was pressed up against my nose, and just breathed in the scent of my two very sexy friends. My cock was raging in my P.E shorts but I didn't even notice. Everything that I had was consumed by these socks. I never wanted to let them go and, to be entirely truthful with you, I'm not sure that I ever would have if not for the sound of approaching boys snapping me out of my dream-like state. My brain sped forward at the speed of light:
Fuck... I didn't want this to end... what could I do?
Take the socks? No! Two missing pairs would look suspicious.
Just one? Yeah... maybe... but which one?
Fletcher... no, Caleb... no, Fletcher... but Caleb...
I heard the sound of the door to the room being pushed open and just stuffed one hand into my bag and drop what I was holding from the other. Out was my only thought: escape, now. I didn't bother getting dressed; it was the last lesson of the day so I could just go home in my P.E. kit. However, I did throw on my blazer so that I had something to hide the fact that I was as hard as rock. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I sped out of the room before either Fletcher or Caleb could even get in. Home - that was the only thing that mattered now. It played through in my head like a song on repeat: get home before someone finds out.
I was in my bedroom and crashing onto my bed in record time: one hand searching for my prize in my bag and the other freeing my still-hard cock from its confines. "Oh fuck," I moaned out as I felt my hand take hold of my six-inch, uncut cock which was already had precum leaking out of the tip. As I slid the foreskin back, exposing the head of my cock to the air, my left hand closed around the wonderful treasure that I'd managed to steal. Within seconds, my hand was up against my nose and I was breathing in deeply again. Fuck... that sexy, salty, sweaty scent of Fletcher. An idea hit me like a bolt of lightning and I quickly separated the two socks, keeping one in my left hand and pressed tightly against my nostrils and the other moving into my right, where I opened it up and slid my teen cock inside.
Despite my most recent erotic dreams being focused on the bare feet of my friends, I'd never imagined that I would actually be in a position like this one. There I was, laid back on my bed, with the black trainer socks of one of my closest friends. The image of that sexy-as-fuck, ginger boy dominated my mind as I took hold of the outside of his sock and used it to wank my uncut knob. Honestly, I can't describe to you how amazing it felt to finally have a fantasy come to life and be fulfilled in this way. All of my thoughts were of him: his cute face, sexy smile and beautiful eyes, his slender, toned body and, of course, his wonderful size 10s. I cursed myself for not paying more attention when I had the chance to see his feet as I couldn't quite bring them to mind in the same way I would have been able to do with Caleb's. But, in truth, it didn't matter: the scent of this fucking stud made up for it. It was musky - a real man's smell - and just knowing that his toes had been there only an hour earlier made my cock throb like never before. Oh fuck... my cock... my cock was there where his toes had been. It's like... like... his toes are on... on my cock!
That thought was all it took. With a huge groan out, I shot my load right into his black socks, the white spunk pushing its way through the thin material. Shit... I was soaking it with my load as blast after blast left me. It was more than I'd ever cum in my life and every single bit of it pumped into the sock of one of my best friends.
Thanks so much for reading this. If you think that this story is worth continuing, if you have any thoughts or if you just fancy a chat about it, please let me know. You can get in touch with me at: jacknifty@protonmail.com or by going to my twitter which is: https://twitter.com/JackNifty