Are They Dirty

Hello you naughty girls and boys!

Steve has discovered he has an appreciation for feet. And right now he wants to appreciate a lovely pair in the park. But is he prepared to fully accept his foot fetish?

*****

Steve went to the park for no special reason. It was a nice summer day and he just wanted to get out and try to enjoy some of it. Also he was lacking any motivation to get anything done though he had a list of things he needed to do. He also figured there was a chance the park would be completely empty.

It's not that there was anything wrong with the park or that it wasn't a beautiful day to be outside, but it was a little small and secluded. But the bigger reason wasn't the failings of this chosen place but rather that there was a new, bigger, and fancier park not too far away. And there was the pool close to that. So while he was sure there were a lot of folks out enjoying the weather he thought he had a chance at some privacy at this little place he picked out.

It wasn't quite empty when he arrived. There was a mother with a couple of small children, but he soon realized they were on the way out while he was on the way in. So he did a quick scan just to see if there was anyone else. And that's when he saw her.

A beautiful young girl was sitting at a picnic table under the pavilion. Well girl, woman, she was surely of age. Being in his late twenties he was still dealing with 'girls' vs 'women'. I mean he had girlfriends but it felt odd to have a womanfriend. He dismissed the whole social puzzle while he took another look at her.

She was reading a book and had her feet propped up on the table; her bare feet. That was something hard for him to miss even from across the park. Steve had discovered he had a soft spot for a girl's, or woman's feet. The realization and acceptance was still a little new but he was getting bolder and he decided he needed a closer look at her feet.

As he approached the pavilion he kept stealing glances at her. He was looking at her and trying to get a better look at her feet, while at the same time trying to determine if she was paying him any attention and careful not to be seen looking at her.

Eventually he arrived at the pavilion. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. Through force of will he made the bold move to sit at her table, across from her. There were other tables under the pavilion and sitting at one of those would have been safer and less suspicious but he had already made his choice.

As he sat down she peered over her book at him and he gave a quick smile and looked away. Thankfully she went back to reading her book. He spent some time straddling the bench and gazing off at nothing before he dared to take a look at her feet.

She was dressed in a pink top; like a tank top but with spaghetti straps. She was also wearing khaki shorts that were likely a little too short. He saw those on the way up but they were hidden now beneath the table. She had long brown hair that probably reached the middle of her back. And when she had peeked at his intrusion he noticed her brown eyes. She was lovely.

Eventually he turned and shifted on the bench so he was facing her, or more accurately, facing the soles of her feet. She was sitting at an angle for comfort. When he made his move he also checked his watch and out of the corner of his eye he looked for any movement from her; nothing.

And then in small steps he began his examination. Her feet were just as pretty as he had hoped. He couldn't see the tops but he was already learning he was more attracted to the soles anyway. They were smooth for the most part although there were some wrinkles in her arch and near the heel.

He checked his watch a few times, just to appear he was killing time. He placed he head in his hands and gazed off into nothing again, while perhaps sneaking a peek or two. Every stolen glance he took on more of her bare feet.

He also noticed they were a little dirty. Well maybe not dirty, but dusty. Maybe a few flecks of sand or maybe sock lint and a little grey cast to the tips of her toes; especially along the bottom of her big toe. But Steve found that her dusty soles didn't bother him at all. In fact he found himself appreciating their condition. They weren't sterile like from some fashion photo shoot; they were real.

He crossed his arms and laid down his head as if resting. And as if that wasn't working he lifted his head to rest his chin on his folded arms. Now he was even closer to her feet and he was sneaking lots of peeks. He felt himself stiffen below the waist when her feet slowly flexed and rubbed together.

He enjoyed the little show but then he looked for signs that she was watching him. When he felt she didn't know or didn't care, he got lost in her lovely feet. His eyes roamed over her soles, taking in the texture and curves. He was aware of the coloration and how they went from pink to pale as he moved to the arch.

And then inwardly he began to rate her feet. Were her toes too long or too short? No they seemed to be the perfect length. Were her soles too rough? No. While he could detect a few places that wouldn't be a silky smooth, that was natural, and she had no real calluses. Was her arch too high or too low? No it wasn't an exaggerated arch, like the rest of her foot it was simply perfect.

"Are they dirty?"

He had already decided they were not; not really. They were beautiful; so soft and natural, and with a grace of movement that was hard to describe. And suddenly they shook in a more forceful, not graceful manner.

"Are they dirty?"

This time he realized she had asked him a question. He was stunned; speechless; caught. Chance had placed this beauty before him. He had thought of it as a question in his mind. But now here he was; she had seen him, she had questioned him, and he needed some kind of response.

"Sorry, what?"

And inwardly he cringed at his answer and what might happen next.

"My feet. Are they dirty?"

"Oh no, they're fine"

Oh now he'd done it. Why did he say 'fine'? I mean they were fine, fine with a capital 'F', but how would she hear it. He meant to dismiss it, but he feared she would hear the admiration in his voice.

"You're sure?"

Hell yes he was sure! Once again, he had to separate the conversation in his head from what was really being said.

"Yeah. Trust me."

"Trust you? Okay do this."

And so saying she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. Except for saying 'Ahhh' she had a look fit for a doctor's office. He also felt a relief as the conversation drifted on and he didn't feel caught, exposed and embarrassed. So with those thoughts in mind he opened his mouth as she had and stuck out his tongue.

He wasn't sure what was coming next, but he certainly wasn't prepared when she dropped her foot onto his waiting tongue. It was like a delayed reflex when he pulled his tongue back into his mouth.

"What? You said they weren't dirty. In fact you told me to trust you. Yet you pulled your tongue in before I told you to. How am I supposed to trust you, if you don't trust me?"

He looked at her between her feet for a moment while she let him ponder. And then she said...

"Stick your tongue back out."

It was a dare. Or maybe more like a command. Whatever it was, his feelings of guilt were back. And as if it were an apology, he stuck his tongue back out and met her foot.

She let it rest there for just a second. Then she started to move her foot back and forth, sideways across his tongue. The sensation was something he had never felt before. As he became aware of his attraction for female feet he had given a kiss, a quick peck, but he had never had a sole wiping across his stationary tongue. It was different somehow; deeper.

"So? Are they dirty?"

"Well maybe just a little bit."

"Then I guess you'd better clean them. Time to put that tongue to work."

Part of him was excited at the recent developments, and yet he couldn't completely discard reality. He was clinging to it like a security blanket. He needed to save himself before it was too late. He would have to pull back and make his excuses.

"Listen I..."

"Oh don't play dumb with me. I had a boyfriend who was into feet. You came over here and sat where? Out of all the places you sat next to my feet, as close as you could get. And then you've been staring at them watching them, hoping you didn't get caught. And I'm sure you've been wanting to taste them. So here's your chance. You can show me how much you appreciate my feet by licking them clean."

It was too late. She had his number. She had read him as well as the book in her hand. He was caught and he didn't know what to do. He needed time to think but she wasn't giving him any. And so he put his tongue back out and began to lick her foot.

"See there? I knew you had it in you. Now you'd better get them clean but I don't want you to disturb me from reading my book. Just keep working that tongue over and over and try to control yourself."

He couldn't believe this was happening. On the one hand it was his dream. He was actually getting intimate with her sexy feet. But it just wasn't normal. He was glad she hadn't shouted at him or called him a creep, but while a part of him desperately wanted this, he was still having a hard time letting it really happen.

Part of his problem was that he didn't know what else to do. It would have been easier if he could have offered an excuse and simply left. If it had all been a misunderstanding he could just go back home and consider himself lucky. But he had been so totally caught. She knew what he was doing, what he had been doing, and what he wanted to do. Leaving now wouldn't change that.

So as he considered his fate he came to the decision that for now his best option was just to go with it. Maybe he would think of a way to save himself. Maybe it wouldn't really matter. And maybe he didn't want to lose this opportunity.

So with a heavy sigh he pushed all those thoughts out of his head and focused on her bare feet. Those beautiful bare feet that were sliding under his tongue. He moved his elbows and brought his face in closer. If he was going to clean them he needed to be able to really lick them, not just tickle them with the tip of his tongue.

At first he was just happy to have contact with her feet. They were as soft and smooth as he had envisioned. He followed the curves and noticed the slight changes in texture. But as he made more passes he also became aware of his work.

Her feet weren't really dirty. He had already made that decision before his tongue ever made contact. But now that he was actually licking her soles he found his tongue was aware of every speck and grain as it traveled across her skin. It took away some of the joy of having her feet and now he was thankful she didn't have truly dirty feet. If they were he wasn't sure he would be able to cope with that.

As it was he was trying to clean her feet, but not just for her and her demands, but so that he could better enjoy the soft, silky flesh beneath. He had already gotten a slight taste of her foot but it was, well 'dirtied' by the debris he was also getting a taste of. If he could finish cleaning them, then he could really enjoy them.

"Not a bad start footboy. Just remember they better be spotless when you're through. And don't get a lot of spit on them."

She didn't look up from her book and he wasn't sure how she could judge his work without even looking at her feet. But it didn't matter. He still had a lot of work to do and he was going to enjoy her feet the best he could as he cleaned them.

Back to work he licked and licked. He was learning the soles of her feet. He worked the heels were he could apply more pressure and really had to scrub with his tongue. They still weren't coming truly clean. He moved up and down the side of her foot, opposite the arch and felt he was making more progress. Then he moved his tongue further into the middle of her foot and the arch.

This area wasn't really dirty as her arch didn't have the same contact with the ground or even her shoes, if indeed she had any, but for selfish reasons he really wanted to feel that part of her foot on his tongue. He was able to forget about the dirt and enjoy the soft skin and the pure taste of her. Though he may have stayed a little too long.

"Naughty footboy. You're supposed to be cleaning."

That's all she said but she had made herself clear. She knew her arch was relatively clean and that he was licking there for his own enjoyment and not as part of his cleaning duty. Thus with a little reluctance he left it behind and returned to other areas which needed his tongue's attention.

He moved to the ball of her foot and after several passes of his tongue he gave her more of a kiss. He quickly returned to swipes of his tongue, but the kiss was also in keeping with his work. He made another kiss and in doing so he was also sucking on her foot. Next a variation on a French kiss and he was using his tongue while sucking in an attempt to clean that spot while also enjoying something of a kiss.

"Stop a minute. Just rest your head. Do it now."

He involuntarily disobeyed her. What was she on about? Why the sudden change and the tone in her voice. He looked around to see what was going on and that's when he saw the woman across the park. She was entering and coming closer.

He immediately panicked. He thought about not only this girl knowing about his attraction to feet and cornering him into service but now some other stranger was on the scene. That would be too much. If anyone was a witness to his foot cleaning he would just die! He started to get up from the table determined to get the hell out of there as quick as he could without drawing extra attention.

"Stay! Unless you want me to call the cops and tell them about a man who molested my feet! You stay right there! Just act calm!"

It was all a rushed whisper, but it forced him to stop. As he considered her threat he knew he didn't need to do anything to make matters worse. She appeared to think they could both get away with this and while odd, the idea that they were somehow in this together was comforting.

So he tried to relax and go back to checking his watch and gazing off, much as he had done when he first arrived at the table. She took a few looks at the woman and asked him once or twice where she was.

As it turned out she was just out for a walk and was cutting across the park. She didn't stop along the way and barely took notice of them at the picnic table. A few tense moments and she was out the gate and out of sight.

"See? It's all good. You let me worry about who's watching us and you just focus on cleaning my feet. Now back to work."

She was so confident, so in control. He was seeing another side of her and it only aroused him further. He took a second and a quick look around and then he was back on her feet. His mouth and tongue returning to those special French kisses he had just begun.

He moved across the ball of her foot, scouring it for any traces of sand and dirt. In so doing he also found his nose brushing against her toes. All at once he realized that foot odor should have been something he had to deal with, however he hadn't noticed any since it all began.

He found himself taking a few sniffs under her toes. While he did detect something faint, it was really just the smell of her skin and perhaps soap, and not an odor of sweaty, wrapped up feet. He supposed being barefoot and outdoors a lot may have helped in that regard.

"Oh so he's a sniffer to, eh? Well sorry. Not much for the nose today. Today is about your tongue, and I'm sure it isn't finished."

Now he was beginning to wonder just how 'into feet' this past boyfriend had been. She called him sniffer so casually. He hadn't even considered that. Here he was discovering his attraction to feet and she was acting like it was all old hat.

He put that aside and went back to his licking. But now as he licked just below the toes his nose was once again coming into play. It wasn't just the tip of his nose brushing against her now. Now it was his open nostrils passing along her toes. It was like each toe was falling into place and then hopping into the next nostril before hopping out and moving on.

That was until he came to her big toe. Her big toe didn't fall inside. Her big toe soon covered both nostrils and was a complete match for his nose. And when he came to a stop there, he felt her big toe pressing against his nose. It had more strength than he had expected.

He pulled back to free his nose and to inspect the dirt on her big toe. Surely some of the grey there was from hours or days of shoes and maybe socks and not simply some dirt she had stepped in at the park. Thus he wasn't sure just how long it would take to really get her toe clean if she was serious about her feet being spotless when he was done.

"I'm not sure you're ready for the toes just yet, but if you get between my toes really well, then I'll let you suck on 'em."

Between the toes. As in licking between the toes; with his tongue. He hadn't really thought about that when he sat down to have himself a good look. But things had certainly progressed beyond a simple visual inspection. Now it was time to take it even further.

He started to push his tongue in next to her pinky toe. It wasn't as easy as it sounded. A little persistence and he prevailed and in a manner of speaking, he was rewarded. Getting his tongue between her toes he discovered a new and stronger taste. What's more he also discovered that here was a place that her toes were in fact dirty.

When he pulled his tongue free he tried to blow off the tip to remove any of the particles before they went into his mouth. He also made an involuntary sound. Something like 'bleh' as he tried to remove all trace from his tongue.

"Tell me, is this your first time cleaning a pair of dirty feet? It is isn't it."

"Well...um...yes...I've never done anything quite like this before."

"Oh how precious. You're going to love doing my toes. Back to work footboy. You're in for a special treat."

It became quite clear she was being sarcastic as his tongue once again pushed between her toes. This wasn't her soft, sweet foot making love to his tongue. This was dirt and sweat and a job, a dirty job, he wasn't so keen to do.

He made a few more attempts, a few more passes, and then decided maybe this was enough. He had gotten closer to her feet than he had ever imagined. He was somewhat thankful she had caught him so clearly and he hadn't run off when she first confronted him. He was also glad they had both decided to let the other woman walk past without knowing what they were up to. It was an experience he wasn't soon to forget. But now, with his tongue between her toes, he felt it was time to come to an end.

"Listen, this has all been quite interesting and I'm sorry if I bothered you in any way, but I think I'm done now. I just need to go home and we can pretend this never happened; or did, or whatever. But I think I need to go."

"Uh uh. Nope. No sirree. You started this when you came over here to perv on my feet. Now I'm the one who says when it's over. Now you be a good footboy and I won't start any trouble, but if you try to run out before I'm finished with you I could still call the cops."

It was the second time she had used the cops as a threat. He wasn't sure just how well that would work for her, his word against hers, but he also knew he didn't really want to get involved with the law over this. It just wasn't worth it. It was also possible she was just saying that as a way to protect herself, and he had to admit she was wise to take precautions with any stranger, even if she did have a good handle on all this foot stuff.

So in the end he decided to go along as he had been. It was true that he had in effect 'started it all' and thus this was no more than he deserved. Besides he had already had the honor of licking her bare feet, dirty or not, and maybe cleaning between her toes was a small price to pay.