Best Man

The skin on my toes strained through the spiderweb of silken threads that sheathed them, and I could feel the bulbous growth of Ted's excitement shifting in his pants, a beast that had been sleeping beneath the covers and was now stirring in them. I made out its silhouette, tracing the edges of his head through the layers of fabric. Above the table, Ted let a small moan escape, which he turned into a small clearing of his throat. He reached for his coffee cup. I ground my the ball of my foot against the beast, which was now fully awake and insistent it be freed of its shroud. Ted's hand gently clapped around my foot. The warmth on his skin through my thin sock made it feel like I had stepped into a puddle of sunlight. I paused, savoring the sensation as he fumbled one-handedly with his pants, finally letting his cock slip free into the open air. Nestling against the bottom of my foot with a firm resolve, it traced the crease under my toes with its wet tongue.

I curved my toes around him and gently pumped, nodding absently at Celia's cousin down the table when she commented on how grateful she was Celia had stuck to satin tuxedos rather than going with seersucker. Ted was cradling his chin in his hands are looking adoringly at his bride-to be while under the table, my sock became sticky with his fever for my foot against him. I felt a burning myself, knowing that I was nudging him closer to a loss of control. I got greedy, impatient, and I smashed against him, digging my heel into his balls.

"Ho!" Ted exclaimed. Heads turned. He swiftly picked up his coffee and raised the cup. "This is a damn fine roast," he offered hoarsely before taking another sip. Celia shot him a perplexed look before turning to continue what I can only imagine was a scintillating discourse with her mother.

My leg was cramping, but I could feel we had reached the final stretch. I settled into an even rhythm, brushing my toes up and down the underside of his shaft, the thin layer of silk between us saturated with his viscous anticipation. And just then, as if we were in the eye of a hurricane, all of the conversations at the table momentarily turned away from us, and Ted and I were suddenly alone in a bubble, suspended in the oily affectation of the evening. He looked at me, small beads of perspiration blooming at his hairline. "I'm so glad you came," he murmured.

I smiled. "I wasn't. Not for a long time. But I can say I am now." His legs began to jump on either side of mine, twitching like a garden hose with air pockets coursing through it. A exhalation whistled from his nose and he furrowed his brow. Very close now. I leaned in. "But now that I'm here for you, I'll have to ask that you also come when I need you to."

Under the table, my foot sensed that Ted had gone still. Across the expanse of linen, I could see his jaw clenched, the muscles in his beautiful face working in the soft glow of the arbor lights. His eyelids drooped, and he faintly groaned, like a little hum. It was the same sound he had made into his pillow that night. A surge of warmth wrapped itself around my toes. I reveled in the ecstasy I had been able to draw from him. That now ran across my skin, sliding down my foot.

We sat and looked at each other for a minute, before I pulled back and slipped my foot--covered in him--into my loafer.

Ted blinked. "I'll always cum if you just ask," he finally said. "We're friends." He licked his lips again. "And I think we always will be."

I leaned back, savoring the gooey warm feeling inside my shoe. "You know? I think you're right. After your big day tomorrow, let's promise to stay in touch."

He smiled, and glanced at Celia. "In touch. Yes. Definitely." And we toasted coffee cups.