The Best Foot Worshipper

Bliss. I had been struggling to find the right word to describe what I was feeling but when Sara took off her white sock and held her foot inches above my face bliss was definitely the most apt word. My hands went in-between my crotch, pressing down on my erect cock, unsure if I was trying to hide my pleasure or celebrate it, eliciting a laugh from my tormentor.

"There's no use," she said in her sweet, soft angelic voice. "I can see everything from up here."

She moved her other foot to where my hands were, playfully kicking them away and pressing down on my penis. With my free hand I tried to cover my mouth before the moan could escape but it was too late. Sara laughed again and I looked up at her. She moved her brown hair out of her face and smiled with the left side of her mouth, giving her a devilish look that said she was enjoying her position of control over me. With no warning she pressed down harder on my dick with her socked foot while simultaneously putting her other bare foot into my mouth. I couldn't believe what was happening, this wasn't bliss, I realized as I sucked on her big toe and its tanned neighbor, this was ecstasy. The slight taste of salt brought a warm sensation to my mouth and a similar sensation was felt in my groin from the soft pressure of Sara's foot stepping on me.

Sara snickered in a register deeper than her usual soft voice. "We're just getting started," she said as she removed her toes from my mouth and slapped my cheeks with her soles, one bare, the other still wearing the silk white sock with the fancy frilled cuffs that I had dreamt about removing with my teeth on many occasions. She rubbed them there for a period of time that felt both short and long at the same time, as I never wanted it to stop but knew it must. The grinding of her soft feet into my face took over all thoughts as I was lost in being smothered. Gradually my vision went, replaced by nothing but the sight of Sara's feet. I couldn't help but be reminded how unlikely this all seemed when we first met.

Before I met Sara I need to share the unlikely series of events that led to that day as it wouldn't be believable otherwise.

My name is Andrei, I'm nineteen years old and this is my first year at a small state college near where I was raised. Right now I'm trying to figure out what I want to do with my life as I have a variety of hobbies but only one true passion - feet. Anytime I see a woman's foot I can't help but be captivated by their beauty and get lost in dreams of worshipping and being dominated by them. It's my goal to be the best foot worshipper in the world someday, there's just one small problem: I'm deeply embarrassed by this passion. But that's okay, I'm slowly getting there and know that hopefully one day I'll be comfortable with sharing my love of feet with others.

Despite arriving at campus fifteen minutes before class started, I didn't enter the classroom until five minutes after it started. It was an intro to communication class, a general education requirement and not one that would do me any good. My only thought was avoiding any attention and getting out of here as soon as possible as I entered the class and made my way to an empty desk at the back of the room. I kept my head down but couldn't help but notice that sitting in front of me was Leslie, a girl I had gone to the same High School as and had a history with.

"You better not do anything weird this year, Andrei," Leslie said to me as I sat down.

I didn't want to answer but figured it would be easier to acknowledge her then to ignore her. "Whatever," I said.

My response granted me an oppreortunity to sneak a peek. Despite it being September and fall weather being in full swing with it being just over sixty, Leslie was wearing black and white Adidas rubber flip-flops that contrasted well with her pale Irish skin. She also had a dark red pedicure, my favorite and an addition that I had to resist staring at. Despite being a year older and in university now, I was confident that Leslie was just as fidgety as ever and I had a front row seat to her dipping and taking off her sandals over the course of the next hour and fifteen minute class. I could feel myself starting to get hard at the thought of it.

I took out a new notebook and left my book bag under my seat. I surveyed the rest of the room, bored by the males in the room, looking mostly unremarkable or just plain boring. There were a couple of cute girls but I couldn't get a great view from where I was sitting in the back of the class. Settling for Lisa wasn't that bad of a fate but one I realized wasn't for me as soon as I looked next to me. Sitting next to me was a long black haired asian woman who had kicked off her brown flats and sat with her tight-clad soles curled underneath her plump ass. The small layer of clothing that wrapped around her small but meaty toes caused something to stir in me, I would do anything to have those feet smothering my face. She turned to face me, I looked away in the opposite direction, not wanting to be caught staring but aware that there was a good chance I already had been.

I spent the rest of the class alternating between paying attention to the teacher (barely), watching Leslie's feet dance in front of me (neither sandal came completely off, but she often held and dipped them with her toes, causing a slight stirring within me) and trying to sneak glances of the lady sitting next to me with her beautiful feet trapped within the tights. It was difficult to get any good looks with her sitting right next to me, but at one point she stretched her legs forward and let her feet rest on the ground in front of her desk. She stayed like this for the last fifteen minutes of class, giving me the perfect way to admire the tops of her feet out of the corner of my eye. My mind took in the curves of each toe and debated how soft her feet must be (I had no doubt they must be very soft) and if she had polish or not (the tights made it hard to tell but I was convinced there was a thin layer of pearl polish on each toe). The teacher announced the end of class and my neighbors feet were pulled back. I watched as they were put back into their flats. And like that my dreams were dashed.

I put my books back into my bag and got ready to leave. Another boring class completed. I had a few hours to kill until the next one, better head to the student center so I could get some work done or what was more likely, catch a little sleep. I packed up my books and saw Leslie shoot me a dirty glance before storming off. Couldn't help but shrug, she had every right to think me a weirdo but in all fairness I didn't do anything to make her angry. The woman in the tights packed up quicker than me, leaving before I could think of anything to say. Probably for the best, it's not like I could go up to her and say "You have nice feet, can I worship them sometime?" My heart skipped a beat at just the thought.

I wasn't more than a few steps out of the door when I heard a voice from behind me.

"Excuse me."

I turned around and there she was. It was the asian girl from class who sat next to me with the feet I wanted to devour. I tried to suppress my perverted thoughts and focus on just being normal.

"Oh hey there," I said, "You were sitting next to me, right?" I was keenly aware that there was no doubt that I was most familiar with the seating arrangement in that entire classroom.

Her voice was quiet and controlled, every word escaped from her pale lips in a precise whisper.

"Can we please speak somewhere more private?" She asked and motioned to the side stairwell entrance adjacent to us. It was placed in a corner of the building and was hardly used.

"Sure. I'm Andrei by the way."

"Mariel," she offered before starting to look me up and down. She finished her scan and made a tsk sound, sounding offended at my appearance. I tried shrugging as a form of condolence but she had already turned to make her way toward the stairs.

Now that I had seen Muriel up close it was hard to calm my lust. She was a head taller me and looked even taller with her massive curtain of black hair. It was hard to tell under the black sweater she was wearing but she looked fit, her tight body looked strong and I hate to be crude but she had some of the biggest tits I had seen in real life. They weren't comically large, but they looked big enough to make a good place to hibernate next winter.

We found ourselves in the white stairway which was empty as it often was. Usually a place I found myself just passing through, standing here now with Muriel was surreal. Everything was white, the ceiling, stairs, floor, the pipes, everything. It made her black stockings contrast in a stark way that highlighted them. Everything in here was white and boring, what I wanted to have all to myself stood out against the world and was beautiful. All that was in the way were those damn flats that she had slipped back into after class.

And then, I had to question if I had some sort of ability to mind control people (which of course I don't) as Muriel unprompted slipped out of her flats and put them to the side. The sound and sight of her clothed foot hitting the hard floor sent a shiver up my back. I don't know if she saw me staring as her eyes never left the window on the opposite wall but she did explain her much appreciated action:

"I took my sister's shoes this morning by accident. They're a size or two too small."

I just nodded and continued to take in the view. From this new angle I could see that Muriel's feet were medium-sized, a size eight I would guess. Her toes were definitely polished as I had thought and the way each toe slightly curled against one another left me speechless. I didn't know what to do and I didn't care. My mind was racing with dreams of what could be. One moment I was picturing myself slurping on each of Muriel's toes like a delicious snack, in the next she was stepping on my face, my vision absolutely dominated by feet. Oh god, I realized I needed to stop. My pants were growing and being intimately familiar with the sensation I knew if I continued it wouldn't be much longer until I came.

Muriel's voice was louder now and her sharp delivery of each word gave an impression of utter confidence. "Are you trying to add to your debt?" She asked.

I snapped out of my foot fantasies and tried to make sense of her words. Did she say debt? I could have sworn she said debt but that couldn't be right. How could I owe someone whom I've just met?

"Sorry," I began, "I don't quite catch your meaning."

She turned and looked down at me. Her glasses fell from her eyes and rested on her red cheeks, the only remnant of babyfat on this otherwise imposing woman. "I think that's the first time in the past half an hour you've looked anywhere besides my feet."

My heart started to race. I was caught and I knew it even as my mind scrambled to take control of the situation. Feet were my life, my raise d'etere if you would but not one that I was willing to share with the world. I knew a foot fetishists reputation and it was not one I wanted to have as someone who was just starting college. Left with no choice, I carried out my practiced routine - the dance of denial.

"Psh," I said in an exaggerated tone that I realized was too much. Trying to reel it in I continued while trying to emulate a cool and detached attitude. "Sorry if you feel that way-"

Her expression turned into one of anger and at the most inappropriate moment I couldn't help but realize that I had been wrong earlier, Muriel was indeed Asian but she was also definitely some part caucasian.

"I don't feel that way, I know you were. I was watching the whole time."

Keep dancing I reminded myself. "I wasn't looking at your feet, I mean, I looked at them for a second because I thought it was weird you had your shoes off. Otherwise I was daydreaming, I can't control where my eyes go."

Muriel walked up to me and I couldn't help avert my eyes. Well, I tried to until a strong grip grabbed me by the chin and forced me to look up and forward. Muriel held my jaw tightly, her fingers digging into my face and starting to hurt.

"Just now you did it again, look."

Muriel forced my gaze to look at the window across from us. I saw a reflection of us, a beautiful and strong half-asian in just her stockings holding an unimpressive white guy by the bottom-half of his face. I looked pathetic. It then dawned on me that she had been watching the whole time when she slipped off her flats earlier and I was admiring her feet.

She must have recognized that I caught her meaning as she released her clench.

"My mother warned me there would be losers at this school, I didn't expect perverts as well."

I could keep dancing but there was no point. There was no point in fighting it, I just had to do damage control.

"I'm sorry. You're right, Muriel. I was staring at your feet all day today."

She crossed her arms and looked away, there was no doubt in my mind it was because she was unable to bare the site of a creepy foot fetishist.

"Why?"

"Because, they're beautiful."

I couldn't believe the words coming out of their mouth. They were absolutely true but not to be shared with the world. My love of feet is a private affair.

For a second I thought Muriel was blushing. My hopes were dashed when she said, "Disgusting. Please do whatever you need to do to get out of our class, I don't feel comfortable being around you."

My heart sank. I apologized and she still wanted to take such drastic action. It would be a hassle to switch classes but even worse would be all the talk surrounding such a move. The other students would speculate and I had no idea what Muriel would tell them. And I remembered Leslie was in our class as well. She would no doubt stoke the flames to burn my reputation into the ground.

"Please, Muriel," I pleaded, "I promise I won't look at them again."

She stood there for a moment and shook her head. "I can't trust you. You would have never told me if I didn't catch you."

If I wasn't panicking already my mind was now fully there. I started to feel hot and agitated, the first day of college and it was all coming down in flames. My stupid lust for feet got me in trouble and now everyone on campus would know I like looking at girls' feet. Muriel was right. I would have done anything to have kept it a secret. I don't know if it was desperation or hope in a clever thought that prompted what I said next.

"You mentioned a debt earlier and I didn't get it then but I do now," I said. "Let me pay off this debt."

She remained unmoving. "No," she firmly said. "I don't want to be paid back by the likes of you."

I wasn't thinking anymore, I just continued. "I'll do anything," I said, my thoughts turned to fear before saying the next words but I pushed through it. "I'm willing to bet your feet are killing you after walking around in your sister's small shoes."

"They are," she answered before realizing it. "You're just making things worse, creep."

I held up a hand. "Wait, just hear me out. I'm really good at foot massages. It's why I was staring at yours, I was imagining which techniques I would use." A half-lie but Muriel's face softened a little as she considered what I said. The seconds in silence felt like hours as I waited for her response.

"Fine," she finally said. "You'll pay your debt by massaging my feet for as long as you looked at them, which was twenty minutes by my count."

My heart instantly felt lighter. We weren't out of the clear yet, but if everything went right it sounded like I somehow had managed to negotiate the saving of my college reputation by giving a foot massage, an act that I would have paid for if given the opportunity. The excitement from this reversal of fate left me feeling light-headed but I knew I wasn't out of the woods just yet.

"Okay, I replied, my voice cracking but I pushed through it. "When and where do you want to do it? I drove here if you want me to do it in my car."

"What are you talking about?" Muriel shot back. "Were doing it right here, right now."

I gulped. "You're joking?" I asked, hoping my question would be answered in an affirmative. There was no way she expected me to give her a foot massage while on campus. Even if we were in a side stairwell, it still was used enough for it be a huge risk. Muriel's black light blue eyes stared directly into my pupils. It felt as she was seeing into me, privy to every dirty thought and the extreme level of panic that the idea of massaging her feet in public brought me.

"Choose," Muriel continued. "Either switch out of our class or massage my feet now."

I was scared but the choice was easy.

--

"Fine," I said, "I'll massage your feet."

As big as my decision felt to me, it felt as if Mariel thought it as equally unimpressive as her only reaction was taking a seat on the top stair without saying a word. She stretched her long legs in front of her and placed her shoeless feet two stairs beneath her. To give a proper massage I saw no other option but to sit underneath them. I got into place, sitting far below Mariel, looking up at her imposing and beautiful figure looming over me.

She held her left foot up just above the stair and I understood she meant for me to take it. I silently thanked whatever force was looking over me and grabbed Mariel's beautiful stocking-clad foot with both hands. With my left hand I held her foot and squeezed on the outside while rubbing the center of her foot. The black nylon stockings she wore were soft and felt warm to the touch. My fingers glided over her soles with ease, doing their best to please and feel the wrinkles created by her curling toes.

I continued to rub her soles, they felt so good in my hands, like they meant to belong there. I was grateful for our positioning now as I could feel a massive boner making a tent in my jeans. There was no way Mariel could see them but I still had to be careful. Having her foot in my complete control was incredible but I couldn't stop imagining ripping those stockings off and sucking on those toes. I wonder if she was enjoying the massage as nearly as much as I was. She had yet to have any sort of reaction other than staring at me carry out the massage without missing a second. I was just finishing twisting her small toe when she pulled her left foot back and slightly lifted her right foot. I took it in both hands and once again got lost in the privilege of being able to appreciate something so beautiful.

This time I decided to start with the meaty part of her sole. I had put a lot of pressure on her feet thus far but I had yet to go all out. I leaned into my thumbs and rubbed as hard as I could. Finally Mariel let out a sharp moan. I smiled and repeated the action again.

Oh!

And again.

Yes!

I started attacking all parts of Mariel's foot with the same level of intensity, each hard press into her foot rewarded with a sexy moan that caused a stirring in my pants. If my massage continued satisfying her to such a strong degree I knew it was only a matter of time before I came. I paused for a second to reposition and then rubbed with a new level of ferocity.

Ohhhhh yes!

Mariel swung her head back and couldn't help but let out a huge smile. Distracted in bliss, I took advantage of the moment and brought my face to her foot. It was only a second, but her sole was planted from top to bottom across my face. It was as incredible as it sounded, the heat spread across my face and I sneaked in a quick whiff. There was a strong smell, like salt. My eyes closed, lost beneath her foot. I couldn't help but go back for seconds and leaned forward. I was confused when my head fell forward. I opened my eyes and saw that Mariel had pulled back her foot.

"You creep, don't even think of doing that again."