I find politics to be interesting, although sometimes depressing when I realize that we bicker about government and fail to see how insignificant we are in the grand scheme of things. Regardless, I love the power dynamic in politics. It has a Game of Thrones feel to it. Everyone is trying to accomplish something and there are so many maneuvers to get it done. Not to mention that at times politics can actually influence change for the greater good. For that reason, not long after graduating from high school, I decided to volunteer as an intern for a state senator. I decided to apply for an internship with a moderate Republican senator named John L. Johnson.
I knew an extreme right wing conservative would probably drive me insane and I could have volunteered for a democrat but there is something about a conservative man that I find charming. There is a certain kind of manliness to them. In fact, for no apparent reason I often find republican politicians attractive while I have trouble finding attractive democrats. Not to mention that there is something good-hearted and welcoming about bipartisanship and getting along with a man despite disagreements.
Senator Johnson did not break the trend of how I usually feel about conservative men. He was a white man in his forties who definitely hit all the marks for someone interested in older men. He struck the perfect balance between looking older and being attractive. He stood at about 5 foot 10 and had kind eyes, an adorable smile, thin lips that I wanted to kiss, and hair with streaks of white in the right places. He wasn't perfect, but what most considered his bad physical features I either liked or didn't mind. I was especially fond of his face. His facial features were symmetric and he was always clean shaven although the subtle outline of his facial hair remained (especially above his upper lip), which helped give him a somewhat rugged look.
My position as an intern was one of low responsibility. I basically made coffee, printed or made copies of documents, was a messenger for the other staff members, directed phone calls to the appropriate person, and sorted the office mail. I was only a high school graduate so my job having little to do with the actual political work was expected, but the simplicity of my tasks allowed me much free time. Sometimes I used that time to look at the senator. He always wore suits that fit him well with nice expensive ties and subtly colored shirts I liked. His hair was neatly combed and he spoke in a commanding yet gentle voice. While I was fond of his attire, I wished he would break his monotonous routine to wear something more revealing once in a while. Specifically, I wanted to see him free from his shoes and socks. Yes, I have a foot fetish and so I wanted to see the senator barefoot, but the closest I would get was seeing his black socks whenever his legs were stretched out. I tried to imagine what the feet under those socks looked like, but my imagination could never make a satisfying guess.
My thing for male feet is something I've had for as long as I can remember so while I do get aroused at other male body parts, seeing an attractive man's feet is to me like seeing their genitals. Hence, I regard seeing the bare feet of a good looking man as something personal and intimate. It's as if I'm seeing their dick.
When I see a good looking man I deeply wonder what his feet look like in the way that some men might wonder what the boobs of a woman they find attractive look like. The lucky times when I do get to see a handsome man removing his shoes and socks I get caught off guard and almost gasp in disbelief and anticipation. I then involuntarily disregard everything else and focus only on taking in what his feet look like.
My favorite part of feet are the heels. They are pretty uniform in look so there is little to be turned off by (unlike with the toes). That means I can count on liking the heels of pretty much most attractive men. I also love the top of the foot. It just looks hot to me and the skin has this nice soft, firm feel to it. I love the whole sole as well because of the usual light sweatiness and moistness it has. And it may be disagreeable to other people with foot fetishes, but I am not a huge fan of the toes. I don't mind them, but they are not my favorite part. I prefer the rest of the foot. Toes can be unattractive, so what essentially determines whether I like a guy's feet or not rests on the toes. So ones I don't like can be a turn off of sorts. And often I do find them to be a turn off. However, seeing a man's toes is kind of intimate, in a good way.
Despite having an enduring foot fetish, at the time of my internship I had never done anything with the feet of a man. I was 18 and I had never actually truly rubbed the bare feet of a man. I had never kissed a man's feet or licked them or anything else. Throughout my teenage years just masturbating to the thought of that was enough. I guess because I just did not have anyone to do that kind of stuff with.
That being said, my reaction the day I walked into the Senator's private office to hand him his mail is understandable. I walked in and saw that he was in the middle of removing his black socks. My relaxed mindset turned to one of focus, my dick became instantly hard, and my heartbeat sped up. I was sexually aroused, excited, and in disbelief all at once. Weeks I had been working for the senator pretty much having accepted that in this professional environment I would never get to see much besides his face. It reminded me of my high school years when I found a guy attractive and hoped for a chance to see what his feet looked like, but throughout our four years of being in the same graduating class, he never once wore shoes that had the chance of revealing his bare feet or even appeared in photos barefoot. I thought it would be similar with the senator so this was a lucky surprise. It all happened so fast though. He quickly changed into other socks and put on a different pair of shoes. He said he was switching to more comfortable footwear because he had some long speeches to give on the legislature floor. But before he did that he walked towards me,still barefoot, to take his mail from me. I tried to casually focus my eyesight on the floor to get a look at his feet. I wasn't sure if I made my staring obvious; I just hoped he didn't notice.
As I said, the incident was unexpected and quick so I only got short glances of his feet before he quickly covered them with a new pair of socks. I was not able to take in the details. Nevertheless, when I left his office I headed for the bathroom because I needed to masturbate after what I had seen. I masturbated with the faint image of the senator's feet and quickly came. The senator had no idea that he had an intern that was masturbating in the legislature bathroom to the thought of his feet. I wondered if that would be the strangest thing he has heard if he found out? What would be his reaction?
After hastily masturbating I got back to my desk. The sexual urges which built up in that moment with the senator were now relieved, but I still felt some slight adrenaline over what happened. But just like any other time that I had masturbated to the thought of someone's feet, I quickly regained my composure and went back to my routine as if nothing had happened. A few times later I tried masturbating to what little I remembered of the senator's feet, but I knew that memory had become inaccurate and useless. In the meantime, the senator was the same as always. He continued to wear the same non revealing clothes and I continued my tasks for him monotonously. It was back to the same way it was before I walked in on him. I guessed that meant my weird stares at his feet that day went unnoticed. I attributed the incident to a one time thing. I did not think I was going to see him barefoot again.
It was business as usual at the Senator's chambers for some time until one afternoon I had to knock on the senator's private office to hand him the copies of the bills the committees he was on were going to be considering. I had to knock several times before he told me to come in. He was sitting on his office couch reclined forward, but what caught my attention immediately was that beside the couch were his shoes and inside of them were his socks. After that clicked in my mind, I looked at him and saw his bare feet. They were beautiful. They were white and manly and his toes were not a turn off. The view of the top of his feet was complimented by being able to see his ankles and his lower legs due to his pants being raised up from his sitting position. That image combined with the good looks of the senator was breathtaking. Not just because I was seeing his feet, but because it coincided with all the specifics I liked.
He must have noticed me looking because before I was able to tell him about the bills he told me, "Oh, sorry, I wanted to take a short nap because of a headache and I just can't sleep with socks on".
That was an interesting revelation, but I did not know how to respond to it. My heart was beating so fast I could feel it. I was caught off guard looking at his feet. I just wanted to disappear so I stumbled saying the words, "I-I wasn't".
"What? What do you mean?" he asked.
"I wasn't looking," I tried again. He looked confused.
"At my feet, you mean?"
"Yeah, I wasn't looking at them."
