Footjob from a Drunk Friend

Okay, so this is such a good story that I can't not share it. I was a sophomore in college back in '04 (it was a small midwestern liberal arts college, if that matters), and I was having a bit of a dry spell in the women department. Sure, I had some pretty good (and some pretty bad) one night stands while partying, but they always felt too rushed and were never really that solid in my memory. It was like they all happened to other people, ya know.

Anyways, it was during the late fall of my sophomore year that I decided to take a break from drinking. I would still go out and party, and I would still grab a beer from the keg, but I'd sip on it idly all night, never letting myself finish it and get another. It was surprisingly difficult at first, because my friends were very confused (and a little bit weary) of my decision. I was able to explain it away very easily by making up some phony medication I was on that interfered with alcohol if I drank too much.

The reason I was taking a break from drinking was because I wanted a good hook up, and I wanted to remember the entire thing. The last drunken one night stand I had ended in disaster. It was at a party a couple of weeks before the start of the school year, when I'd gone to The Howler bar on 5th street. I don't recall how many drinks I had, but my shady memory has me talking to this short blond girl who was drinking a ridiculously large cocktail with an umbrella and a curly straw. We were talking about her hometown (she was a new freshman who'd just moved in, I think), and we ended up being pretty handsy with one another. I lived around the corner from the bar so I offered to get her another drink at my place, which we did. Pretty soon we were making out on the couch. That quickly turned to fucking on the couch. She was a small lady, so when she put her legs up, her feet were pretty close to my face. Now, I have a foot fetish, so this was awesome. I put her feet in my face and began to inhale their scent. She was moaning with pleasure, but began to question what I was doing between moans. I told her to cool it as I started sucking her tiny plump toes. She was still confused as to what I was doing, but started moaning again. She must have liked getting her toes sucked.

Now this is where the disaster happened. Right before I was about to cum, I pulled my cock out of her pussy. I was jerking it, and she was telling me to cum on her tits. But I had a better idea. I bent her knees, placed her feet together, and shot my load all over those tiny little things. I have to tell you, it was really hot. I always came a lot, and her small feet covered in a huge load of cum was one of the best sights I'd ever seen.

As you can probably guess, this didn't go over well with her. She was all like "what the fuck" and "did you just cum on my feet." She grabbed my shirt and used it to clean her feet (rude) before barricading herself in my bathroom to wash her feet. I slowly got dressed, then got a beer from the fridge and drank it on the couch, waiting for the young slut to get out of the bathroom. She came out in a rush, fully dressed, and chided me for being a "disgusting pervert" who "wasn't that great anyways." I just shrugged and let her leave, but to be honest, that encounter really got to me. I usually didn't just cum on a girl's feet without asking, but I was just really caught up in the moment. Couldn't she see that? Plus, it was just cumming on her feet. It's not like I'm into poop or have a crush fetish or anything. I really didn't see the issue.

So there I was, lukewarm beer in my hand, trying really hard to stay sober enough, when my friend Danielle sat next to me on the couch.

"Pretty lame party huh?" she said, slurring her words.

I just nodded as she put her head on my shoulder.

The party we were at was lame. It was in a small apartment with old furniture, ugly carpeting, and wrestling posters scotch taped to the wall. The beer in the keg was clearly Keystone, and the ratio of men to women was astonishingly high. Danielle was usually pretty picky when it came to the guys she slept with, and looking at the guys at this party, I could see why this ratio wasn't really encouraging to her either.

"You trying to get drunk in the hopes it will make this party more interesting?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "It's not working." She looked at my half-drunk beer. "You probably have the right idea. Why waste a future hangover on a lame party."

We both laughed and were silent for a while. Some Ludicrous song was blasting from the speakers, but it looked incongruous because no one was dancing and everyone was just milling about in their respective friend groups. I simply sat and enjoyed Danielle's head on my shoulder.

Let me tell you about Danielle.

She was tall and thin, a lifelong cross country runner. She had shoulder length wavy brown hair which framed her face. She had a small nose, expressive eyes, and a face that was thin like her, but still full. She didn't really have tits, but she was still hot. She was wearing a loose blouse, leggings, and knee-length bright boots. I always watched her flirt with guys with a little feeling of jealousy, as she was someone who would latch onto a boy and leave with him halfway through the night. We wouldn't see her until the next morning.

Danielle shifted and put her feet up on the coffee table in front of us.

"Man, these boots suck," she said.

"Too tight?" I asked cooly, taking a sip of beer to hide my smile.

"Yeah," she said. "They're kinda new and I'm still breaking them in."

I tried to calculate my next words carefully. I didn't want to seem too eager, but I definitely wanted to get her out of here as fast as possible. Thankfully, I lived close by to this party, so I didn't have to think too hard about what to say next.

"I have an idea," I said.

Danielle's eyebrows rose.

"Let's ditch this party," I said. "I have some good beer at my apartment, and over there you could remove those painful boots without the floor being disgusting and covered in beer."

I smiled then went back to drinking my beer, as if I wasn't eagerly awaiting her answer.

"Yeah, let's blow this joint," she said. She chugged her drink and slammed her cup onto the coffee table. I did the same, and we left with brief goodbyes to our friends. The two of us leaving together didn't raise any eyebrows, thankfully, as people saw us as friends and nothing else.

We walked to my place slowly. Danielle was pretty drunk and clutched my arm as we walked. She also seemed to not be kidding about the boots hurting her feet.

"Man those boots really are the devil," I said jokingly.

"You're telling me," she said. "I can't wait to get them off."

"We're almost there," I said.

We got to my apartment. I lived alone in a one bedroom, which is how I liked it. I found that roommates got in the way.

As soon as we got there, Danielle attempted to remove her boots, but I guided her to the couch.

"Let me," I said. I began to unzip her right boot. She didn't resist as I slowly tugged it off. I had the situation under control.

I tossed her first boot aside and began to immediately massage her socked foot. Her foot was really sweaty, and the smell was intoxicating. Again, she didn't resist. In fact, she lay back on the couch and moaned. I massaged her foot for a few minutes before putting it in my lap (as close to my cock as I could get away with) and removed her other boot. I massaged that foot too.

"That feels really good," she said. "You're really good at that."

"I'd feel even better if I took off your socks. Can I take em off?"

"Yeah, sure," she said, smiling.

I peeled off her socks and was greeted by a familiar sight: Danielle's small, soft feet. Her tanned skin was beautiful next to her maroon painted toes and the tattoo on her left foot of birds in flight. I started massaging her warm bare feet, only slightly damp from being trapped in her boots. I pushed my finger in between her toes to clean out her sock lint, and it took an enormous effort of will not to put that finger under my nose and inhale.

"I'm sorry," Danielle said. "My feet must be gross."

"Not at all," I said casually. "You have really nice feet, in fact."

This comment seemed to perk her up. "Really? You think so?"

"Yeah," I said, my heart pounding in my chest. I was about to cross the point of no return with one of my best friends, and I wasn't quite sure yet how it would turn out. "Trust me; there are a lot of girls out there showing off their ugly feet."

"And you look at a lot of feet?" she asked. The question was asked as a joke, but I could hear the curiosity in her tone.

If my fetish wasn't obvious to her already, she'd figure it out soon enough if she just sat up and looked at the large bulge in my pants. Her feet were inches away from my erection, which was starting to get painful in my pants. I wasn't going to just come out and say it bluntly, though. I'd been having conversations like this with girls all my life. Getting close to girls' feet was a hobby of mine.

"Yeah, actually," I said. "You can tell a lot about a girl by looking at her feet."

"And what's that mean?"

"Well, if a girl takes good care of her feet, that means that she's probably a really clean and neat person. She probably takes care of the rest of her body just as well."

"And what do my feet tell you?"

I lifted her foot close to my face and pretended to study it. From this close, the odor was intoxicating.

"Well," I said. "You don't have any callouses, even though you're a runner. That means that you get regular pedicures, or at least scrub your feet often. Your pedicure is also perfect. You have a tattoo, which means you like showing off your feet and you're proud of them. All of this tells me that you take really good care of your feet, which means you take really good care of everything else. But I already knew that about you."

She laughed and lifted her other foot. "You didn't inspect this one."

I lifted her second foot so I was holding both to my face. "Yes, yes," I said in a mock scientist's voice. "Another fine specimen. This one is also well taken care of. But then again I didn't need to see your feet to know that you have good hygiene." I looked at her. "Seeing your feet, and massaging them, is just a nice bonus."

I lowered her feet from my face. She was laughing at my fake scientist's voice and didn't seem to mind as I placed her feet almost on top of my erection. I went back to massage them, this time a lot slower and with more reverence.

"Hey now," she said, finally catching on. "Someone's a little happy camper."

"I told you," I said. "Massaging your feet is a bonus."

"Oh you dog you," she said playfully.

She started moving her foot back and forth on my boner. I moaned and clutched her foot in my other hand. She didn't stop. I took that as a sign. I brought her other foot to my lips and kissed it gently. She giggled. I opened my mouth and sucked on her big toe. It tasted salty and sweet.

"Oh wow," she said. I felt her body shiver slightly.

I went to town on her foot. I sucked each beautiful tiny toe, running my tongue in between each one. I ran my tongue from her heel to her toes, bit the side of her foot, opened wide and shoved her whole foot in my mouth until drool started dripping out of my mouth and onto my lap.

"Can I pull it out?" I asked between hot breaths. "Can I please take it out?"

"Do it."

I unzipped my fly and worked my cock out through the hole. My cock stood up like a skyscraper. I put her wet, spit covered foot onto my cock and worked it up and down. I grabbed her other foot and started running my tongue all over it. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't masturbated to this very scenario once or twice before.

When her other foot was nice and wet, I moved it down to my cock as well. I placed her feet around the cock.

"Grip it with your toes," I instructed.

She did. I worked her feet up and down for a few strokes before she got the idea and took over. She kept stroking my cock for a good long while, not tiring in the slightest (she was a long distance runner, after all). I just sat, glued to the couch, watching in awe as her pretty little toes worked up and down my cock. Precum dripped from the tip and slid down onto her feet. I looked at her. Her face was a mask of concentration. She was biting her lower lip with her eyes wide. She couldn't seem to believe she was doing this as much as I couldn't believe I was getting a footjob from one of my best friends.

My breathing started to get heavier. I started bucking my hips, fucking her toes as her feet worked my cock.

"Are you gonna cum soon?" she asked.

Instead of answering, I came. The first jet shot straight up about eight inches and landed on my pants. The next two jets were also high, but not as high as the first one. Both streams of cum plopped onto her feet. The fourth jet shot out and landed right on her tattoo, those birds in flight. My eyes rolled back into my head after that, the orgasm was so intense. I felt the rest of my milky cum dribble out of my cock and settle on her toes.

She kept stroking for a few more seconds before stopping. She just sat there, her feet still around my cock loosely, staring at the mess I'd made.

"Holy fuck," she said. "That was really hot." She sounded out of breath.

"Yeah it was," I said, looking at her cum-soaked feet. "I can't remember the last time I came so much."

"It's everywhere," she said. She leaned forward to examine her feet. "It's in between my toes." She wiggled her toes. I watched a ribbon of cum stretch between her big toe and second toe.

She looked up at me. "Can you get me a wipe or something? I think I'm stuck here unless you want me trailing cum all over your apartment."

I got up and grabbed some wipes from my bedroom. I cleaned her feet for her, making sure to get every drop of cum off (even though what I really wanted to do was rub it in like lotion).

"What a gentleman," she said.

"I try."

After she was cleaned up, we went to the bedroom and got into bed together. We cuddled, and ended up making out some, but she was tired and I was spent. We fell asleep. When I awoke the next morning, Danielle was gone. I grabbed my phone and saw a text from her.

"Had to run. Want to head to the gym before I hit the library. If you ever wanna give me another foot massage, just let me know." She ended the text with a winky face emoji.

I smiled and made myself some coffee.