Foot slut for hire

Bored, forty and facing Covid lockdown I needed a hobby. Exhibitionism is a kink for me and web camming was an easy way to satisfy myself. As a man, I knew mostly guys would be watching but I'd embraced my bisexuality to some degree and besides, any women watching would be a bonus.

At first, I showed just my feet, because I have a strong foot fetish, plus I needed to ease into getting naked. Why a foot cam? I had partners over the years that liked my feet and commented positively on them, and since I was lucky enough to have these size 11 assets, I figured I might as well start there.

There are stories for another post, but the first girl I slept with got interested in me because of my feet. I was 18, and in the college dorm we would be barefoot almost all the time, my friend would comment on the shape of my feet, she would tickle me and be super flirty. She eventually made the first move and we had sex, it was such a turn on that it was my feet that originally attracted her and we went on to have lots of foot fun. My first male hookup was also because of my feet, more stories for a different time.

Anyways, a feet focused webcam felt like low risk fun. I setup my shows with good lighting and angles to show my arches, toes, soles, calves and thighs.

To my surprise, I immediately started getting some regular viewers. Horny guys with feet fetishes appreciated my cam, and that felt great.

With the positive feedback, I started running my foot fetish cam about three hours a day. After a few months I also had the courage to go fully naked, showing my cock and torso. As expected, it was mostly a male audience, but surprisingly I would get both straight and gay men. I did have some women followers, and their interactions were quite unique, but that's also a story for another time.

By the end of that first summer I had about a thousand followers and maybe two dozen regular fans. My shows became better, more relaxed, and being summer, I was getting a lot of sun and exercise. I've got a dad-bod but I was feeling good about myself.

I loved being a tease. Knowing what I liked in feet myself, I got a lot of pleasure moving them in ways that would drive my viewers crazy and eventually to orgasm. What a turn on knowing I was making guys cum.

On the channel, the gay and bi men were more conversational and fun, usually less demanding, but the straight guys were amusing, often making ridiculous demands, which I would usually ignore, but most shot their loads anyway and then would immediately log off. I took pleasure in making the straight ones cum, knowing they were probably feeling shame as they wiped cum off their guilt-ridden bodies, my bare feet giving them satisfaction that female feet cams couldn't without spending a lot more money.

Yes, one of the downsides of being a male broadcaster is you don't make a lot of coin, but if you're in it for fun that's ok. I didn't mind being the discount foot fetish source for horny men.

As for my own pleasure, depending on how the show went, I'd cum in private for a special viewer, or I'd cum alone later, or, rarely, if I was super turned on, and the online crowd was right, I'd cum on cam for everyone. It was rare, and very disappointing, if I wouldn't be super horny and ready to shoot a load by the end of every show. Occasionally I would get a little too excited, edge a little too far and the audience would get a surprise. That's some of the downsides of being an amateur.

A year into my routine I got a new follower who changed things for me. On his first join, he immediately hit the follow button but it took him a while to speak up. His first words, "Are you god?"

That went right to my ego, I was looking good and feeling good, naked on cam, my tanned legs looking long and lean, my abs and chest soft and with hard nipples showing my excitement. I was feeling sexy and horny, but "god?". I chuckled.

I remember being super turned on already and edging my hard cock, my curling toes also giving away how turned on I was. That night I'd already had a few "satisfied" viewers and the it was going well.

I checked this guy's profile. To no surprise, he had a foot fetish, he also had sexy profile pictures, and we lived in the same city. We started chatting and he was really getting off, I was so hard during the whole show with talk about what he would do with my feet I could barely follow anyone else. I had to end the show to enjoy a private orgasm. I wanted to cum for him but I couldn't get him to ask.

The next time on cam he was on-line immediately (he had notifications setup to announce my show I guess). The guy was completely addicted to my feet. Our chats were a huge turn on for both of us and I started cumming for him in private whenever he wanted. He especially loved me cumming on my soles.

A month into his new addiction, he made a proposition. He told me he wanted to hook-up in person, which was initially a hard no for me, but then he went on.

During one of the regular cam sessions he would get a hotel room. At his signal I would leave my house and go there. He would be wearing a mask. I would come in, wearing a mask (it was Covid times after all). The ground rules, no touching above the knees, no kissing, no fucking, the hotel room had a balcony and the door would be open for airflow, the bathroom fan would be on. I would lay on the bed, he would use my feet, and then he would cum on me (he was very clear about this), and then I could leave.

"Two hundred dollars." he said at the end.

My throat got tight and my heart rate jumped. This random stranger, he would probably rape me or murder me in the hotel or blackmail me. The number one rule of doing this sort of work is to never, ever meet up in person.

But he really had set this up nicely and there was absolutely no question he wanted to fuck my feet. I didn't care about the money, but being used like that, being cummed on, the idea was such a turn-on. The risk seemed crazy but I was actually considering it.

I was non-committal. No date was set, but over the next few weeks he would bring it up occasionally. He was almost too pushy for comfort, but the things he said to me in chat, the dude was crazy about my feet. He was never rude and always respectful, never crossed any lines, he just really wanted to fuck my feet.

One night when I was doing my regular show, he joined but didn't message me immediately. Eventually, one word came on the screen, "Hotel."

Blood rushed to my dick and I felt the skin around nipples tighten. My erection was intense. I arched my back a little and spread my toes, stretching my legs in the process. I wrote back, "Tonight?"

"Now." he replied.

He followed up with the address and room number. A high-end hotel downtown, about 20 minutes away. If I was going to get murdered, at least it was in a five star place not in a seedy motel.

Every ounce of me wanted to do this. All I had to do was just take it one step at a time and see how it felt, I could always turn around and go back.

I got off cam, pulled on a pair of jeans with no underwear. I put on a new pair of sneakers with no socks. I put on a white t-shit and zip up hoodie.

I got my bike out, jumped on and started peddling. Yes I'd be a little sweaty but the ride there was mostly flat and I really needed to burn off the nervous energy.

Downtown, I pulled into the parking garage and locked up the bike. "I'm a mobile bike prostitute, making a house call." I laughed to myself. My heart beat fast and my erect dick pressed against the buttons of my jeans, I had to pull my hoodie down to hide the bulge.

I got through the garage, but in the lobby it felt like every eye was on me. Quickly I got into the main elevator, pressed floor ten, then remembered my mask just as I got to the floor. Then somehow I was at his door, I don't remember knocking, the door opened and he was there.

I went in. Just as described, the room had a balcony, and it was open. The comforter on the bed was pulled aside and pillows were setup. He was wearing a bathrobe. On the table there were a pile of clothes, a suit jacket and tie, a dress shirt and pants. It looked like he had come right from an office or something. His laptop was next to the clothes, stream on the screen was a blond chick getting railed by a dude, missionary style, with her feet in the air.

I wondered if he was more into the dude or the woman on the stream.

He was older, at least 55, he smelled like expensive cologne, and he looked just as attractive as his photos, though the mask hid most of his face. Bigger than me, taller by about half a foot and beefier, he looked like an ex-athlete that had put on some weight. As I was processing all this, I realized his eyes were locked on my shoes and unlike on cam he was quiet and didn't have much to say.

I took a few steps forward and stepped out of my shoes one at a time with the laces still on. When he saw I wasn't wearing socks he trembled. Out of shyness and nerves I put on the hood of my hoodie. I moved my way to the bed, he picked up my shoes, smelled each one and followed me.

"You smell good. You're damp!" He said.

"I rode my bike here," I replied. "I'm a little sweaty, I hope that's not a problem, I can shower."

He let a slight groan of approval and pointed at the bed.

I sat down and tried relaxing, just starting to feel a little more comfortable. He walked over to the bed and went for my feet. He lifted my ankles, covered in my straight leg jeans. He was strong, he shifted me forward so he could bring my feet to his face and smell them. He started sniffing and rubbing my feet on his stubbly face, it felt good. The dampness of my feet rubbing off on his face.

His hands were rough. In our chats I had always encouraged him to do whatever he wanted to my feet and I'm glad he was just going for it. My soft feet next to his stubble and rough hands sent a wave of excitement through me.

"Your feet are even sexier in person," he said, and now I trembled.

After a few minutes he dropped his robe and I saw he was naked and erect. A thick dick, about six inches, cut, and smooth. His erection made me feel good. His cock was attractive, his balls tight against his body looked like they were full. He started playing with my feet more, he took off his mask to bring my toes to his mouth, taking each one and sucking one by one. I didn't mind any of it.

"Mmm, salty and sweet, you taste so good," he groaned.

I lay there, watching the ceiling and watching him. His chest, a little hairy and with a tan bordering in a burn, his nipples looked tasty.

He had started slow, only occasionally bringing his cock to my feet. My feet, wet from his slobber, were glistening.

My feelings were a roller coaster. I enjoyed the attention and I enjoyed giving the pleasure. Seeing his hard cock and nipples and knowing it was because of my feet made my heart jump. But I was also scared. What if he forced himself and fucked me, I didn't want that, could I overpower him? I was scared, excited, and super turned on. I imagined him shoving his thick, hard cock in my mouth. I realized I would not mind that. My dick got harder which made it easier to go with whatever happened.

After a while he told me to take my jeans off. Reluctantly, I complied.

My dick half erect, feeling a little shy, but happy to be out of the confines of damp jeans. He grabbed my now bare ankles and pulled my feet to his cock, worked for a bit to get the right angle for his hard cock to fit between my soles. Already wet from his tongue slobbering around my feet and combined with my sweat he had plenty of lubrication, he found a nice sandwich of flesh to bury his dick and he started to furiously fuck my soft arches.

"Stroke yourself," he commanded.

I started rubbing my cock like on cam, trying not to get too excited at his now frantic fucking.

His fucking my arches was animalistic. I loved how he squeezed my feet together to make them just tight enough for him. After a bit of fucking my feet, he squeezed his dick between my large toe and started fucking me there. He was going wild on my feet, all I was doing was lying there and making sure he could find the best angle while stroking myself.

"I'm fucking your feet like a tight pussy," he groaned.

He started fucking my arches again, I tried helping with my feet, he wasn't interested and just wanted to do it himself. I loved it, having my legs pulled this way and that, being adjusted, being used to get off while I just lay there getting fucked.

When he came it was without warning, Most of it hit the floor, but he made sure the second and third spurts made it to my soles, the tops of my feet, my toes and my ankles. He rubbed his cock over my feet and ankles, covered me, rubbing around as he finished, making sure every drop was on me.

He fell back on the couch and after a few minutes I walked over to the bathroom, trying and failing to avoid getting cum all over the carpet. My soles stuck to the bathroom floor and I was leaving cum all over. I did the best I could to clean up with a washcloth and dry off with a towel.

Back in the room. I grabbed my jeans and put them on. I could feel my precum sticking to the denim already. I needed to cum badly, my balls were aching, and I still had to ride a bike home, pure torture. I put on each of my shoes, feeling so dirty to slip recently cum covered feet into pristine shoes. I wished I had underwear. I wish I had socks, but it would be so much less sexy, it just wouldn't have been right.

He gestured to the night stand, where there were two hundred dollar bills. I said thanks and left. I realized I should've asked for the money up front, another amateur mistake.

I don't remember the ride home. What I remember is the cum load I delivered once I got home.

We repeated this four or five times. After that first time, the instructions were always the same, he was also very adamant about me wearing the same wardrobe, no underwear, no socks, and making sure I biked there.

Each time he would use my legs, feet, and toes for thirty minutes to and hour, cum, pay and I'd leave. One time he shot a high load that flew all the way to my cock and balls. Another time he sucked his own cum off my feet after he was done, so hungry for it that I thought he might bite me.

One time he pulled me forward, shoving his balls against mine, pushing my shirt up he came all over my belly, a violation of our rules but I didn't mind, or complain.

The last time we met he kept me for two hours. That time he asked me to cum on my sole first. It was a bit awkward, jacking myself in front of him until I came took a bit, but once I was close I brought my dick to my left sole and came all over it, my thick white load covering almost my whole feet. Immediately he got to work, using my feet from every angle as he loved to do.

He had me on my belly, on my side, kneeling on the ground. He used me in every way I could imagine. When he finally came on my soles, there was so much I had to wipe the cum off my soles with my hands so I could walk to the bathroom. By the end of that session I was rock hard and ready to cum again.

Over this whole period, I really want to confess to my close friends, "I'm a male foot prostitute!" A mix of pride and disbelief (but never did).

Some nights I still get so horny thinking about my short-lived side hustle that I can't even function. The whole experience felt so good, between the risks and the pleasure, it was some of the most exciting sex I'd ever had. I still occasionally dream of sucking his cock and drinking his juice, instead of my feet getting all the fun, but I guess the rules where the rules, and I never asked.