Scenario:It's a diary of 999 girls‘ feet i licked
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It's a diary of 999 girls‘ feet i licked
Dear Foot Diary,
I’ve had a secret for years, one that I’m absolutely dying to confess.
I love licking girls’ feet.
It’s my ultimate weakness, my biggest vice, but I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone about it.
The truth is, I’ve been doing it since I was 18 but didn’t realize it was a fetish until I was 22.
I’ve looked at fetish databases online, and foot fetishes are very common.
It’s not just any girl’s feet that make me weak at the knees; they have to be soft and young and have a certain shape and look to them that’s difficult to describe.
But when I see them, I can’t help myself.
I get that warm feeling in my belly, my mouth gets dry, and all I want to do is grab them and shove them in my mouth.
The fetish is so obscure, it’s not even listed in the largest fetish database I could find.
Discovering it has been both a blessing and a curse.
Ever since I figured out what I really wanted, I’ve struggled with relationships because I can’t make myself be intimate with someone without them knowing about my desires.
Luckily, my roommate Sarah knows all about this.
She’s been my best friend for years, but she’s the only one who knows about this.
Last night, after we’d had a few drinks, she encouraged me to go out and indulge in my secret love.
It wasn’t the first time she’d done so.
She’d been doing it for years, ever since she first caught me doing it when we were roommates at college.
At first, I thought I could keep going out with guys and pretend everything was okay, but there have been too many times when they’ve taken their shoes off and revealed gnarled toes or yellowed nails or rough heels.
I’ve watched as their faces fall when they realize I’m not interested in sex with them because I’m not interested in their feet.
It’s made me feel like a freak or a pervert for years.
It wasn’t until last year that everything changed for me when I realized that there was a solution to all of my problems: me!
After another bad date, this one with a frat guy who didn’t understand what “no” meant, I went back to my apartment and got a bottle of wine and put on some music and took off my shoes and socks.
My feet were aching from my high heels.
As I rubbed them and sipped my wine and listened to the music, something clicked inside of me.
All this time, I’d been worried about what other people thought of me and whether they’d accept me.
But what if they weren’t the problem?
What if I was?
That night, after finishing my wine, I laid down on the couch and put my feet up on a pillow and started licking them.
At first, it felt weird and awkward and gross.
But as the minutes went by, my feet started to feel amazing, licking the ball of my foot and the arch and even my toes, one at a time, feeling the warm wetness of my tongue between each one.
When it was over, I went to bed and fell asleep easily, without the usual sexual frustration that came from being with a guy but not letting him go all the way with me.
The next morning, as soon as I woke up, I knew it was the right thing to do.
Since then, it’s been smooth sailing for me.
I love my feet and having them licked by others, and I’m perfectly happy being single.
For years, ever since I was a little girl, there was something about feet that excited me, but it took me a while to figure it out.
The first time a girl ever let me lick her feet, it was an accident.
We were wrestling around on the floor of my dorm room, trying to get the TV remote, as we both laughed and screamed and our friends egged us on from the couches.
At some point, one of us slipped and we both went down on the floor, with me on top of her, laughing and trying to pin her arms down so she couldn’t grab the remote first.
She was wearing thin white socks, and I felt them getting sweaty under my hands.
I could see the sweat on her forehead, too, as she tried to wriggle free, her face getting red from the effort.
But the worst part was the smell coming from her feet, a mix of sweat and sneakers that I couldn’t resist.
Before I knew what I was doing, I licked my lips, leaned over, and started kissing her feet.
I could feel the dampness as my lips touched her toes, then moved between them where there were deep grooves of sweat.
I could taste it on my tongue, warm and salty like tears, as I licked it all up, savoring each drop.
If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.
She just giggled and tried to push me away, but I didn’t let her.
Instead, I grabbed the ankles of her tube socks and pulled them off so I could get at her bare feet.
When she saw what I was doing, she stopped struggling.
She liked it when I kissed her feet.
And I liked kissing them.
But more than anything, I loved licking them.
It was a revelation for me, a mix of embarrassment but also something else I couldn’t quite define at the time.
It wasn’t until later that night when we were alone in our room that I realized what it was.
I’d been doing something naughty but also sexy with a girl, something no one else had ever done with me before when I’d been in bed with a boy.
I wanted it to happen again.
Since then, it’s been an obsession for me.
But it wasn’t until 10 years later when I finally figured out what it was all about when I started licking my own feet after a guy failed to satisfy me in bed.
We’d been making out on my couch for hours when he finally got up the courage to try going down on me.
He’d been so nervous about it all night, he’d taken four showers that day, trying to make sure he was absolutely clean before we got busy.