***** This story is pure fiction. If you are not 18 or older: please leave immediately and do not continue reading. Also, if m-m sex or isn't your thing, you might not want to continue. Otherwise, enjoy!
***** If you enjoyed this story, please let me know! All comments and feedback are welcome. Andrew J (andrewbjo@yahoo.com)
"This is good shit, man!" Eric said, handing me the joint. We had just finished watching the game on TV, and were kicking back in his living room. It was "girls night out" for Julie and Stephanie, meaning the 2 of us got to do our own thing too. Neither of our girlfriends was into sports or smoking pot, so the occasional girls-night-out worked out perfectly for Eric and me.
I took a deep hit, and held it in for as long as I could. "I wonder what they're up to tonight" I said, exhaling.
"Probably the usual... bitching about us." At this we both laughed.
Eric was sitting in his armchair a few feet away from me, wearing only in his boxers. The pot was slowly having its effect on me, making me feel very warm. It was wintertime, and the heat in the apartment was turned up pretty high. I stood up from the sofa and started taking my jeans and t-shirt off. "You mind?" I asked.
"Whatever, dude. You know when I'm at your place I'm usually stripped down before we even start watching the game". Which was true. We were both pretty comfortable around each other, and usually just hung out in our boxers when we were alone anyways, so figured why do any differently when we were together.
We passed the joint back and forth some more, and before long we were both pretty stoned. Some days we were really talkative, and sometimes when we got stoned we were mellow and pensive. Today was shaping out to be the latter.
It felt good to be stripped down to my briefs and hanging out with Eric. I looked down at my body. I was in pretty good shape, even though I stopped running a few years ago when I was 28 due to a severe ankle injury. I still worked out religiously, and took care of myself. My white briefs nicely highlighted my tan and the dusting of light brown hair I had all over. I always get compliments and looks from people, both men and women. I worked as a massage therapist and had a lot of gay male clients. Many of them are always wondering if I am gay, which, I take as a compliment to my good looks and marginal fashion sense.
I watched Eric through the smoky haze as he stared off into space, lost in his thoughts. He was a small guy, several inches shorter than me, but very well proportioned. He worked out regularly, and his arms and chest were well developed. He had a little bit of hair on his chest, which I swear he shaves periodically (although I don't know for sure... I never notice hard enough). His hairy legs were well developed too, from years of running marathons. Between us two he was definitely the better looking one. Definitely the Pretty Boy. Which was fine by me... Stephanie liked me just the way I was. I secretly think she has a fetish for cavemen.
The one thing about Eric I always found striking was his feet. As a massage therapist, I've seen a lot of feet. Eric's were definitely on the smaller side, not disproportionately so though, and were very finely shaped. He was probably a shoe size 7, which was small, even for his height of 5'8''. He had deep arches, and long, well-shaped toes, all perfectly spaced apart. His toenails were angular in shape and perfectly groomed. I looked down at my own feet -- large, and hairy, with ungainly shaped toes and nails -- the exact opposite of Eric's feet, and slid them under the ottoman out of view.
The other effect pot sometimes had on me was it made me horny. Not so much horny, but sensuous and tactile... and as I gazed at Eric's feet, stretched out on the ottoman, I had this sudden urge to reach out and touch them.
"Dude... something wrong with my feet?" Eric asked, noticing me staring at them.
"Naw, nothing at all... just noticing how they're kinda small compared to the rest of you" I said, immediately realizing it sounded rather insulting, and regretting it.
Eric just seemed amused. "Yeah... everyone says that. Julie says we should share our shoes" He laughed out loud.
This made me laugh too. "They're real nice shaped feet though. You should see some of my clients. Ugh!" I was immediately relieved that Eric hadn't been insulted.
"Huh" he said, intrigued. He lifted one of his legs and examined his foot, feeling it and gently massaging it .
"Mind if I feel them?" I asked
"Sure... I guess." Eric looked at me quizzically wondering why I'd want to feel his feet. To be honest, I didn't know why either. We were both happily straight, uninterested in men but very definitely "metro", and had several gay friends. The idea of being sexual with another guy wasn't the least repulsive or even uncomfortable to me, it just didn't do anything for me. Other than a shoulder massage I'd given Eric a few months ago when he'd hurt himself, it was the only real other time I'd ever touched him other than gestures of friendliness or comraderie, like a handshake or hug after a Giants win or something.
I guess I was just immensely intrigued by his feet, and feeling tremendously sensuous and tactile with all the pot.
So I reached forward and touched his feet. I was amazed at how smooth and babysoft the skin was. The hair on his legs gradually thinned then abruptly stopped just above his ankle, and his feet had no hair on them at all. The skin was pale compared to his hands or face, and even compared to my hands. I gently held his left foot in one hand as I traced his bone structure from the ankles to his toes. His toes were small, divided into neat segments by the joints, with the tips soft and round on the base. The toenails looked strong and had a healthful shine, They were all evenly cut and cool to the touch.
Compared to his delicate toes, the fingers my hand looked very rugged. My skin was much rougher than his, and I had well-developed muscles in my hands and wrists from doing massage. This made my fingers look big and fat. I felt like a caveman.
I felt my face getting flush. "Man, you've got... uh..." Nice feet. I completed the sentence in my mind but was too confused to say it out loud.
Eric was staring out in space again, lost in thought, but had a gentle smile on his face. His eyes were semi closed, and I instinctively intuited that he was enjoying the touch. Years of working in massage gives you that instinct.
I continued with my exploration of his feet... gently massaging his arches, and drawing large circles around where they ended on his sole up to his ankle. Then, using my fingertips gave his arches and sole a firm pressure-point workover. He was pleasantly sensitive to my touch, but, thankfully, not ticklish. I could tell by the curling of his toes and the way his calf muscles gently contracted every now and then, that he was enjoying my ministrations.
Eric was definitely relaxing, and holding his foot up was getting increasingly difficult. I put his foot down, and pulled the ottoman outwards. I sat on it, facing him, and put both his feet in my lap. I then took hold of his right foot and started massaging it.
His left foot felt heavy and warm in my lap, inches away from my crotch. His pale skin against my hairy thighs was having a strangely erotic effect on me, and I felt myself responding. My dick started growing slightly, as was evidenced by the bulge in my white briefs. While I was intrigued and a bit confused by this reaction, I was too busy enjoying Eric's feet to think too much about what it meant.
I worked on both his feet for several minutes each... amazed at their beauty and their feel. I was also basking in Eric's expressiveness... his moans and sighs and shudders, not to mention the myriad other signals he was sending in response to my massage was making it really worthwhile.
We were both feeling quite stoned now, and my dick was completely stiff. I looked down to see a tent his boxers. I looked at Eric, who was looking at me, with an odd mixture of total relaxation, lust and intrigue in his eyes. Man, I know how you feel, I thought to myself.
Just going with the flow (what else could I do?), I brought his foot up to my mouth, and gently kissed the sole. Eric shuddered, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes. I inhaled, curiously, to find that his feet smelled like a combination of clean socks (i.e. fabric softener), and that unmistakable smell of feet. I eagerly took another inhale, deeper this time. Oddly, or maybe not oddly, they reminded me of the smell of Stephanie's feet.
I started licking Eric's toes. I glazed the spaces between his toes with my saliva, taking in the feel of his toes with my tongue. The softness of his skin, the round, suppleness of the tips of his toes, and the texture of his toenails felt so good... this was all new territory for me, and I was amazed at how good it was all feeling.
Eric's foot resting on my lap had inched its way closer to my crotch, and the sole of his foot was resting against the ample bulge. I marveled, in my stoned state, at how perfect the arches of feet fit into a bulge in a lap.
When I started grazing my teeth against the soles of his feet, and gently biting them, Eric started moaning louder.
"Man, don't stop..." he moaned, as I earnestly worked my teeth and tongue over his feet, his soles and arches. I pressed both his feet into my face together, using my tongue to sort of fuck the space between his feet in the shallows his arches made, while firmly pressing his toes into my forehead.
All of a sudden, Eric reached down and gruffly touched my face. "Dude you've got stubble. Now I know what Julie means," he laughed. I hope I wasn't hurting his feet too much.
As he sank lazily back into his chair, I watched his crotch. His cock now was pointing out of his boxer fly, but he didn't seem to notice or care. I'd never seen his cock before, and was surprised at my own curiosity as I continued to stare. It was definitely on the shorter side, rather thin and had a modest head on it. The skin was darker than the rest of him, and shined as it was stretched taut, and the neat slit at the head had a drop of precum glistening on it. It looked... beautiful... was the word that came to mind, against his well worn gray cotton boxers. I noticed through the opening that his pubic hair was trimmed short. Of course. Eric, the Pretty Boy.
My own cock was steel-hard, and had escaped from the confinement of my briefs. He was sticking straight upwards towards my belly button, having broken past the confinement of my briefs through the waistband. I looked down at him as as he throbbed, standing at full length and girth (which are pretty impressive by any standards), with a full forest of hair at the base. I've always been proud of how well endowed I am, and more importantly Stephanie loves my size (she calls him `bigboy').
But as I compared Bigboy with Eric's cock, it somehow made me feel unrefined and uncivilized. My cock looked angry and masculine in a primordial way, while Eric's looked civilized and refined... equally masculine, just differently so. Like his cock was a refined aristocrat or celebrity and mine was the rough slaveboy or bodyguard.
Eric spread his knees apart (I was still holding onto both of his feet at my head), and I gently laid his feet on my shoulders, on either side of my head. I tentatively reached out and touched his cock.
"Ohhh..." Eric's body jerked in response to my touch. I made a fist around his cock, and he instinctively started thrusting into it. It felt really weird to have someone else's cock in my hand. And Eric's was so different from mine... smooth, and short, with very few veins. He had tautly stretched skin, with none of the loose flaps of skin like I have around mine. Holding his dick was reminded of the handle of my Phillips screwdriver. God I was stoned.
At full thrust, when my fist was nestled all the way into Eric's neatly trimmed pubic hair, his cock just barely poked out of my fist. I had to grip my wrist tightly as he thrusted, as he was drooling precum all over the place and it was getting slippery. I grabbed my own cock with my other hand and started jerking myself off, matching Eric's rhythm.
Neither of us lasted very long. Eric's furious, frenzied thrusts into my fist lasted about a minute before his whole body tightened up in orgasm. his feet pressed together against the sides of my head and his back arched so his pelvis thrust even closer to me, and with a sudden "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh...." he erupted. His cum shot everywhere... covering his chest, shoulders, the back of his chair behind his shoulders, and even me. Bigboy erupted at precisely the same instant, sending long ropes of white, thick semen over my chest and Erics thighs. I continued jacking him off clumsily during our orgasms, which made him splash all over me too. I got hit in the face and chest with a few squirts.
Man, we were spent. We were both heaving and panting as we came back to our senses. I was afraid to move because I didn't want to get cum everywhere, and Eric was more or less locked in position with me between his legs, his feet still up on my shoulders. Talk about awkward. If only my gay clients could see me now, I thought amusedly.
I met Eric's embarrassed gaze with an equally embarrassed one of my own. We looked at each other for about a split second, and then both burst into laughter.
"So much for hot sex with Julie tonight" Eric said between bouts of laughter.
I started laughing again at that, and added "Yeah, sorry about that, Steph."
We disengaged ourselves from each other, and Eric got us towels. As we wiped ourselves off and got dressed, he said "Dude, I've got the munchies. Wanna go grab some pizza before the girls get back?"
"You're on, man!"
The END
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Thanks, Andrew J (Email: andrewbjo@yahoo.com; Yahoo IM: andrewbjo)
***** Copyright 2006 Andrew J (andrewbjo@yahoo.com) All Rights Reserved.