The story I'm about to tell you took place in the summer of 1995, which was the summer a 18-year-old boy became a man and a father. I lived with both parents in a house that was fairly big and had an apartment below it that we used to rent out.
My mother's youngest sister, aunt Faith, got married at the age of 25 and had her first daughter at the age of 27.
Her husband, uncle Harry, was 10 years older than her and was not very well off so my parents let them stay in the apartment below us until they could afford to get their own place. Harry got a job offer in Germany for a food chain company with a good pay. He was soon gone and left my aunt alone with their 2-year-old daughter.
My aunt was scared to spend the night in the apartment with just her 2-year-old and asked my mother if she could have her nephew (Me) spend the night at her place.
The apartment had a living room, a kitchen, a bath, and one bedroom. She put a futon for me on the floor next to her bed because she was afraid that I would toss and turn at night and end up waking or even smothering her daughter.
The room was dark and I laid on top of the futon while my aunt was getting ready for bed on the other side of the bed. I could hear her taking off her clothes and putting on her nightdress.
She got in bed and told me how grateful she was to have me around as her man to protect her at night. I was lying in my place for a good hour and a half without being able to sleep when I heard my aunt rub her feet on the bed sheets making a noise that got my attention.
I have liked women's feet since I was 4 years old and used to play with my mother's friends' feet whenever they came to visit. As I got older, my taste for feet became more refined and disciplined. I only liked high arches, with toes that were not too narrow at the top or crocked.
Each toe had to be gradually longer than the one next to it starting with the pinky and ending up with the big toe. The soles needed to be wrinkly other wise I wouldn't pay them a second glance. My aunt's feet were exactly all that except that the toe next to the big toe was about the same length.
I got up and crawled to the base of her bed making sure I didn't make any noise since the closet next to her bed had mirrors on the doors and she would be able to see me without getting up. I could see the soles of her feet but the toes were still covered by the sheet.
I got my nose close enough to sniff them but I could hardly detect any scent at all. I slowly exposed her toes and put my nose in the small space between her big toe and the one next to it and filled my lungs with a mesmerizing aroma.
I stuck my tongue in that space and rubbed it in and out of there for five or six times and then put it back in my mouth trying to taste her foot flavor like a foot connoisseur.
My heart was pounding in my chest and my eardrums sounded like an African tribe celebrating before consuming a human meal. My breathing was very heavy and when I got close again to her feet for another tasting she moved her right foot away from my face.
I froze immediately and held my breathe until she seemed to settle back, I then proceeded to lick her left sole and got bold enough to suck the bottom of her heel into my mouth. I did that since I tested my own feet and noticed that part to be the least sensitive part.
I then licked all the way up to her toes and took her big toe into my mouth, she wiggled her toes a little and I almost had a heart attack, I immediately docked down and crawled back to my futon thinking that was enough risk taking for one night.
The next day she came up to my house around 2 in the afternoon and sat next to me in the living room while my mom went to the kitchen to make tea. She had her socks on and she moved her foot until it touched mine, I didn't move away and I did nothing, she soon started wiggling her toes like she was tickling me. I looked at her and with a smile she asked if I were ticklish.
I confessed that if rubbed very gently my soles were very sensitive and ticklish. I asked her if she were ticklish and her answer was on her soles, right below her toes, and between them. She then told me about thinking of getting a French manicure done on her toes and asked me what I thought about it.