She Was Right

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My wife and friend disagree about feet.
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My wife and I met in college, dated for a year and then I proposed. We have been married for two years. Xavier is a friend of ours, well, just my friend at first. Xavier and I had been friends through all of college when I met my wife and have maintained our friendship ever since.

He is always around. The three of us have done plenty of double dates with different girls he invites, a lot of random party nights, and even two vacations with ex-girlfriends he had previously dated. Needless to say, he was always around and we were all comfortable in each other's presence.

He's a pretty fun guy to have around. He's tall, athletic build, hits the gym a lot. As far as I can tell, women are usually attracted to him. Over the years, as a result of the hundreds of times we've hung together, he has become inadvertently close with my wife, not just me. All the hangouts, get togethers and vacations have paved the way for their friendship. She thinks he's outgoing, funny and charming.

She's got no problem playing wing-woman for him when we go out and has even set him up with a friend of hers for a date, on more than one occasion. Nothing has ever happened between them that is overly flirtatious or sexual that would be crossing any lines, but they have a good relationship. I would never be concerned about anything happening of any sort between them.

My wife's name is Sam. She has long blonde hair and is above average height for a woman, played volleyball in college. As you might suspect from the fact that she played volleyball, she does indeed have an athletic body, muscular legs and a big butt. I always enjoyed watching her play volleyball in college and pretty much haven't stopped checking her out since.

I'm definitely not the only one. Its something I'm used to now. She is hot, even if she dresses modestly, invariably, pants are tight on her. A lot of men check her out, boys even. Doesn't bother me though, in my opinion it pretty much comes with the terrain. She doesn't seem to notice much, or when she does, she will make a joke to me or be playful about it. She's not bashful, she knows she is a catch and loves to teasingly remind me. I enjoy it. That type of harmless attention, in a way, gives me a type of reassurance, or an ego boost. I'm lucky to have her.

One night we had gone to a birthday party of a mutual friend of ours. His wife had thrown him a costume party and everyone had to dress up as if it were the 1920's. The party was a hit, Sam and I love themed parties, and to top it off, my friend's wife had hired a bartender who was mixing all manner of alcohol, from an old fashion to martinis. Everybody was drinking.

The only downside, she shut it down right at 11:30 and had everybody out by midnight. She said she started early and was therefore ending early. Didn't want guests drunk at her house past midnight. Totally understandable, but we weren't really feeling like being done for the night. That being said, as a married couple, hitting a downtown bar after midnight didn't have much appeal either. We've got plenty of liquor at home and decided we'd invite Xavier to cruise back with us to keep drinking if he didn't feel like calling it a night. This is something that has happened dozens of times, in fact, it would be more uncommon if he didn't want to cruise with us.

I've no doubt he would've preferred to bring along a lady, but tonight wasn't one of those kind of nights for him. That type of dynamic wasn't even necessary amongst us. He was always welcome to come crash at our place. It wouldn't be the first time, nor the last, that he cruised home with us with the intention of nothing but more drinks and a random game of cards.

Sam dealt us a hand of gin rummy and I poured us each a margarita. Tequila is rarely a good choice of drink late in the night for those who have already bene drinking, but I used to work at a margarita bar and upon request, late night mango-habanero margaritas are inevitably the beverage of choice.

We'd played a couple hands, drank along with it, letting the conversation meander throughout the details of the evening's party. The people, the costumes, the fun.

I don't have to say it was the booze in me when I say that I made a suggestive comment about loving the 1920's style nylons my wife was wearing. Like I said, we'd all been around each other enough, more so, been drunk around each other enough for nothing like that type of comment to be anomalous or awkward. But this time, it ended up different. What I said was that I couldn't wait for my wife to give me a footjob in those sexy nylons she was wearing.

Nothing out of the ordinary for me, she knows I enjoy footjobs, she's given me plenty. She likes doing it. The comment didn't phase her at all. It was Xavier that got hung up.

"A footjob? Are you serious?" he asked.

"Yeah, why not?" I replied, taking a sip from my drink. "You don't like 'em?"

"Never had one. Don't think I ever will. Not my thing."

"Wait?" Sam asked. Looking over at him, surprised. I have to admit, I was pretty surprised myself. "You've never had a footjob."

"Nope." Xavier replied. "You guys do that?" The way he asked suggested he thought we were weird. But frankly, it didn't make me feel weird. I love the feeling of my wife's feet on my dick.

"Are you kidding? James loves when I give him a footjob." Sam said incredulously. "With all the girls you've dated I can't believe you haven't ever tried it."

"Just not my thing." Xavier shrugged. He tipped the remainder of his margarita into his mouth and turned his attention to his cards. He didn't seem interested in exploring it further, so I followed suit, finished my glass and got up to make us another.

"One more?" I asked him. I was already up from the couch and walking to the kitchen, knowing the answer.

"Sure," he said while drawing a card.

I wouldn't say it was uncomfortable by any means, but he wasn't pressing the subject and I had no intention of it either. Not that it bothered me, just what had been said had been said and that was that. Sam, however, clearly thought differently.

"But how can you know it's not your thing if you've never even tried it?" Sam followed up. "It's just like getting a handjob, blowjob, or titjob, just using the feet instead."

"It's not the same to me. I don't have a foot fetish." Xavier replied. "Being between a girl's boobs or in her mouth is way different. I don't want to suck on toes or have my toes sucked on. Feet are gross. Most likely a girl isn't fresh out of the shower, she's likely been walking around all day, maybe sweating or getting dirt or other shit on them. Even if it's just walking in the house on the carpet or kitchen floor. Its nasty."

Sam burst out laughing. "James has never once licked my toes. Licking dirty, sweaty feet is fucking nasty. I don't know what type of porn, or whatever, you watch. That's not a footjob, at least not to me anyway."

"I don't watch any of that stuff, because like I said, it grosses me out. Its not my thing. Feet trip me out." Xavier shook his head in disgust. Seemingly cringing at the thought of it. "They're different shapes and sizes. Some are pointy, looking all gremliny, others are fat or chubby like the should belong to Hagrid. I don't want stinky face on my face or anywhere on me. No way."

Sam laughed again. "Its not rubbing a foot on your face, it's your dick. Its just feet rubbing on your dick until you nut. Tell him James."

Sam looked across the room for backup as I was pouring out three more margaritas. Xavier wasn't looking over, but he was shaking his head as if still clinging to his last words, no way.

"She's right man. It's not something from porn with some gross feet on your face while same dominatrix is belittling you or something like that. It's fun. The feet feel good. Its pretty close to a handjob but it's different because you can't quite guess were the feeling is coming from. Feels good. Like I said, I can't wait for those nylons to be rubbed all over me." I said the last part hoping to cut the conversation where I started it. I didn't want to make it awkward or weird. In my mind the whole thing wasn't a big deal, but Xavier wouldn't let his point go.

"Maybe so man. But not for me." Shaking his head. "Feet are gross. It would not turn me on."

"To each his own I said." I handed him his glass, set Sam's on the coffee table near her, and collapsed onto the couch.

"Yes, it would." Sam interjected. She seemed annoyed. She doesn't like to let stuff go if she thinks she is right. Especially when she is drunk. She gets feisty. Certainly, this was not their first drunken back and forth over something. "A foot rubbing on your dick would for sure turn you on. It is just like a hand on your crotch or an ass rubbing up against you. It's inevitable. Even if it took a while, it would just happen."

"The guy just doesn't like feet." I said. Taking a drink. Making a weak attempt out settling the conversation. "Agree to disagree."

"There is no agree to disagree," Sam said. She was definitely drunk, definitely annoyed, and I knew for a fact she didn't like letting Xavier get away with thinking he was right about everything. "He's just wrong."

Before I could say anything, Xavier came back. "Rubbing up on a dick does not mean I'll get turned on. That's like saying someone's grandma rubbing up on me would get me excited, or a dude rubbing up on me. Wouldn't happen. It's not about constant friction from anything that moves on my dick and boom suddenly I've got a boner. Feet gross me out and I just wouldn't get turned on, let alone get hard or nut."

"I'm not saying a grandma or a dude or some cave troll is rubbing on you." Sam rolled her eyes as if his argument was ridiculous. James couldn't quite say he didn't agree with Xavier at this point. Maybe James was just into feet and that's why he enjoyed it so much, and Xavier wasn't. But Sam pressed on. "I'm saying some hot girl rubbing her feet on your dick over and over would get you hard and you'd nut and you'd love it just the same as every guy loves any nut."

"Not a chance." Xavier responded. He spoke as if it was the signature on the dotted line, it was a done deal. He wasn't going to budge.

"You're an idiot." Sam laughed and drew a card for the first time since the conversation started. "100% would happen." She threw in a second later to get the last word.

"Guess we'll never know." Xavier said, shrugging his shoulders like he could care less.

Sam played a card without saying anything. I reached to draw a card of my own when she spoke. "Tell him he's wrong, James."

Great. I had no interest in being dragged into this stupid, drunken quarrel. Knowing full well I loved footjobs, Sam wanted me to back her up, that was certain. I tried to be diplomatic about it, not really wanting to tell Xavier anything, one way or another.

"I mean, you know I love when you give me a footjob, Sam. If it were me, I wouldn't stand a chance against your feet." I shrugged ambivalently like it was common knowledge, hoping it conveyed to them I didn't care to partake in the conversation anymore. "Maybe he just doesn't respond to feet the same way I do." I shrugged again in an oh well manner and played a card.

"Exactly my point. I know you don't stand a chance, and neither would he." Sam said as a matter of fact. She wasn't defiant, or heated in any way, just looked like she was right and we were wrong.

Xavier laughed and drew his card. "Just because it works on your boyfriend doesn't mean it would work on me."

"It would." Sam returned. To be honest, this may seem like a peak moment where suddenly I should be alarmed and calm the situation. My wife, basically telling my friend if she gave him a footjob he would love it. But it just seemed all in good fun to me. Every woman I've ever dated would say confident things to me about how great they were or how they would rock my world. And pretty much I would say the same in return. I don't think anybody felt like something was going to come of it, until she spoke next. "I'll prove it."

Xavier let out a nervous chuckle and looked over at me, and then to her. "What?"

"Seriously, I'll prove it." Sam said without flinching. She turned to me. "Honey, I know this is crazy but I am going to prove him wrong."

Here's the thing, we aren't swingers or anything like that. Nothing extramarital at all. But I mean, I'm pretty kinky. Sometimes when Sam and I go out to bars we'll dance with other people. It's exciting to rub up on another person and then make love to each other later on. Sometimes when we have sex, she and I will tell each other about our former lovers. It turns us on. When she said she wanted to prove it I wasn't outraged or altogether upset. Maybe this was the drinks in me, or the horndog in my pants, or maybe I wanted to see how far she'd really go. I can't say. But I didn't object, I just sat there.

"I'm going to use these nylons and prove him wrong. He is going to get excited and realize he is an idiot and it'll be over. It'll be five minutes and I'll come get you and tell you I was right. Once he is hard, or if five minutes is up and he is right and doesn't get hard I'll stop. I just need you to go wait in the room so it isn't anymore awkward than it is, please. Five minutes." Sam was looking at me. I knew she wasn't into him, I knew this was nothing like that. She was drunk, Xavier was drunk, I was drunk. She looked like she just wanted to prove her point.

Xavier sat there, chuckled nervously, looking from her to me, not saying anything. I didn't meet his eye. I still can't say what came over me. But I grabbed my drink, stood up, and went into the bedroom and shut the door.

I sat down on the bed and immediately chugged my drink. I didn't even bother to turn on the lights. What the fuck was happening? I figured any second she would come in and say just kidding. I figured maybe I should go out there. My chest was on fire with anxiety, anticipation, wonder. What was going on? Was this really happening?

A lot of me wanted to go out there and stop it before it started, or if something had started put an end to this ridiculousness. But a lot of me wanted to see how it played out, to see how far she would go. She had never done anything like this in the past, this was nothing like what we had done. The closest thing was dancing with a man at a club, but I was doing the same right next to her with a strange woman. To me, that was nothing like this.

Time seemed to creep past. I was shaking nervously but my brain was fogged with eagerness. I wanted to know what would happen, I needed to know. The clock seemed to creep past, one minute at a time. Five minutes came and went and she hadn't came back yet. I resolved not to look at the clock and threw my phone across the bed, onto the floor on the other side. It wasn't much longer and I heard the door handle twist, immediately drawing my attention to the door.

The door slowly came open and Sam came in, shutting it behind her. She didn't bother to turn on the late. She came and sat next to me.

"Hey babe," she said.

I didn't know how to respond. I wanted her to tell me what happened, to tell me nothing happened, to tell me everything happened. All I muttered was a meek, "hey," in response.

She put her hand on my crotch and rubbed my dick through my pants. I think the nerves had kept me soft while I sat alone in the room, but as soon as she started rubbing my dick all the eagerness came rushing and I stood straight to attention as she rubbed me with her fingers.

She kissed my ear and unzipped my pants, reaching for my dick. "I was right." She whispered in my ear.

"You were?" was all I could say. My mind was racing.

"Mm-hmm." She purred in my ear. I wasn't sure I wanted to ask, but what else is there to do?

"What happened?" I whispered.

"After you left, I took your spot on the couch next to him. I told him to take off his pants and face me." She undid my zipper and pulled my pants off as she spoke. My cock sprung free and she slowly traced the full length of my shaft in her palm.

"I put my foot on his crotch and rubbed these nylons just like I always do with you. He pretty much got hard immediately." She gave a naughty chuckle in my ear. She pumped my dick in her hand faster. "I was right."

I was flustered, breathing hard. Partially from what she was telling me and partially from the pace of her hand on my dick. I wasn't going to last long.

"That was it?" I managed to gasp between breaths.

"That was it, babe. I rubbed him like I do you. He got hard so quickly I was surprised. It happened so fast. So, I rubbed him between my feet a little longer so there was no way he could say I wasn't right."

"With your feet?" I asked dumbly.

"Mm-hmm. With my feet. Up and down with my nylons. A minute or two had passed and I laughed and told him see I was right. I was just going to stop, and then he came."

"What?" I said. Like I didn't understand what she said. Not knowing what else to say, really is what is was. My own dick was on the verge of cumming. "He came?"

"He did. Like a volcano."

I was right on the edge now. It was going to explode any second. "Did he like it?" I muttered as I leaned my head back and groaned, ready to explode.

"He loved it." She whispered in my ear.

My hips bucked and I felt a massive rush of intensity as my load spurted from my dick again and again. Sam laughed and held up her cum covered hands.

"That was so much," she said. It felt damn good.

"Imagine if I had gotten those nylons," I said, taking a deep breath. It felt like a storm was passing as the horniness seeped out of me.

"Oh, I can imagine." Sam replied. Her comment brought me back to the reality of what had just happened. She had just given Xavier a footjob in the other room not five minutes ago and I came as she told me about it. I felt a sinking feeling creep into my stomach.

"What happened, after?" I asked. Sam was still sitting on the bed with her hands covered in my sticky load.

"We both kind of just laughed, he told me I was right." She shrugged. "Then I came back in here, didn't want to leave you hanging. I told you it wouldn't take more than five minutes." She kissed me on the cheek and went to the bathroom to wash her hands.

She was right. Five minutes was all it took. In five minutes my life went from completely normal to my friend getting a footjob from my loving wife. Crazy how fast things turn.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

Some wifesharing stories can be hot, but it seems to be a Literotica requirement that every husband in these kind of stories has to be a meek, pathetic, spineless, snivelling loser who is offensive on a psychological level to anyone with balls. Seriously, why is this bullshit trope so popular on here?

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 2 years ago

did you die?

AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

reminds me of Sam the Foot Tease by Sheerxdesire at least your story looks like it is finished. idk you could continue it too

AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

needs a sequel 5/5 a shame it was all from husbands perspective missed the good parts

ThatPervyGuyThatPervyGuyabout 2 years ago

I am so impressed with the comments on this site for loving wives. They have not changed in 12 years.

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