I was bleary-eyed at eight in the morning. When I got to work, I grabbed a bagel from the pantry and headed to my desk to boot up my computer. I listened to my voicemail while eating and then logged onto the internet to do some research on the real estate market. I was always looking for new land to buy.
An instant message window popped up in the corner of the screen. "Blow my toe until my eyes roll back."
I started in surprise. What the hell? And then I saw the name of the sender and chuckled. My mysterious pen pal.
"Good morning to you too," I typed. I'd met him in a chat room a few months back, and he was one of the few who knew about my fetish. We'd had some really hot conversations, but during the workday we tried not to talk for just that reason. I ran my own business but didn't want to set a bad example for them, and I was shocked my pal broke our rule.
"Not such a good morning, today," he typed. "Sorry if I scared you."
"Don't be." I replied. "What's up?"
"My head's really hurting," he answered. "I barely made it out of bed."
"And would if help if I...you know, did what you first asked?"
"Hah. You think it's funny, but it really helps kick a headache. Try it some time."
I made a sarcastic mental note. Whenever head starts to hurt, have someone suck on toe.
Right, like that would work.
*
For the rest of the day, I wondered about him. Everywhere I went, I scrutinized attractive men, thinking he could be any one of them. And literally, he could. Who knew? He might be the surfer-type teller who worked at my bank. The clerk couldn't be more than twenty eight, and he looked tired. Maybe his head ached.
I actually held my breath for a moment as shook his sun-bleached hair out of his face while counting out the cash I requested. Wouldn't it be eerie if he looked up and asked me to blow his toe? I wondered with a rising cock what his feet looked like. Too bad he worked in a bank. He looked like a walking sandal-advertisement.
Then, on the way to my new dentists' office that afternoon, I glimpsed a hot Hercules at a construction site. Due to the humid summer day, the men were shirtless. My mouth watered over a particular Adonis. Dark-haired and muscular, with large, capable hands, his bronze chest gleamed in the sun.
Traffic was not moving, so I took the opportunity to check out his shoes. Huge brown work boots. And when I say huge, I mean it. Gargantuan. My pulse began to race, and I was tempted to get out of the car and ask him if I could do for him what my pen pal asked. Blowing one of his big toes might rival sucking a normal man's cock. Imagine that.
The car in front of me finally began to move, and as I pulled away, I saw something fall off the scaffolding. A terrible cry rent the air, and my poor Adonis's gorgeous face contorted in agony. In the rearview mirror, I saw a brick had slipped and fallen on one of those feet, and I nearly reversed to get out and offer comfort.
But I was late for the dentist. Now, let me tell you, I have no problem with the dentist, but I liked my old one. Alas, he was too old and had to retire. I'd never been to see this guy before. I waited and waited for my name to be called. Nearly three quarters of an hour. Damn good thing I ran my own company, or I'd have been sacked for wasting almost half the day running errands. When the hygienist called me back, I followed quickly, needing to get out of here ASAP.
Of course, that lasted til I saw the dentist, Dr. Brannon. He was tall, green-eyed, and spoke with a lilting Irish accent. I wanted to take him home on the spot. He gave me a genial smile and asked me to sit down while he took a look at me.
I opened my mouth wide, wishing he'd insert something other than metal tools. A tongue, cock, or toe would have been great. I peered over the edge of the chair at his shoes. Round-toed black shoes. Wide and very big. A sudden image of that bare Irish foot had me speechless for a full thirty seconds.
The hygienist popped in to tell him he had two other patients waiting, and he lowered his mask and sighed.
"Two o'clock, and my back's killin' me." He grimaced and slowly rubbed a hand across his lower back. I almost offered to do it for him.
Running a hand through his dark hair, he smiled at me again. "Looking good, Langdon. Won't need to see you for another six months."
I made a note to myself to eat more candy. A cavity would get me here sooner.
*
All that night, I dreamed I was swarmed by naked and half-dressed men, all chanting his words, begging me to blow their toes. Barefoot, they walked over me, but couldn't crush me. I could feel their soles – some smooth and some rough- but it was as if they were weightless above me. Some walked too fast for me to obey their order, but others, I could catch. I grasped big toes in my mouth and watched eyes cross with pleasure. All around me, they bellowed and shouted and screamed as my lips touched their feet. Some men fell to the floor and disappeared in the wild throes of orgasm. Again I saw the faces of the men I'd seen that day: my dentist, the construction worker, the blond bank-teller...
The shrill alarm clock woke me, and I rose to damp sheets. Shit, I'd come in my sleep. Talk about wet dreams. When I touched my foot to the cold floor, I cried out, not realizing my sensitivity was due to the hot visions during the night. I jacked off again in the shower, recalling some of the hottest moments of the dream, like when Dr. Brannon had pressed his big bare foot to my face and shouted in Gaelic as his eyes rolled back in his head. I smiled as I rushed off to work.
*
