It was a hot summer's day. I left the office for my lunchtime break, sweating like a pig and feeling hornier than a dog in heat. I unfastened the top three buttons of my worktop in an attempt to release some heat from my torso. Jesus, the heat was stifling; I'm not used to the hot weather, being from the north of England, but I was going to make the most of it before the day was out.
I made a quick visit to the kebab shop across the road and ordered a large donor kebab and bottle of coke. Then I was back on the move, waddling to my favourite hot-summer's-day ogling spot, where, for the next hour, I would have the time of my life leering at ladies' feet.
I arrived at my favourite spot a moment later; an escalator situated right outside Dorothy Perkins clothes store. It's the perfect location, you see, because there's guaranteed to be a steady flow of women using said escalator at regular intervals throughout the day, coming out of Dorothy Perkins. Now what I do is, I hang around at the bottom of the escalator, minding my own business and eating my lunch, and wait for a young lady with her feet on show to get on at bottom of the escalator. At which point, I hang back for a couple of seconds, before jumping on two or three steps behind her. This way I get a great eye-level view of those sweet little tootsies as she rides all the way to the top.
The sexual frustration I feel seeing all those bare toes, all soft, smooth and painted pretty colours, is overwhelming. It always seems to bring to mind the old adage, 'Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink'. Being overweight, balding and in my forties, I tend not to get many girls offering me foot jobs, or a lick and suck of their toes, or even a quick sniff for that matter. So it's always a nice treat for me when the sun is blazing in the sky, and the women do away with those awful socks and slip their feet into something more revealing.
The day was a beauty, an absolute scorcher, thirty degrees and not a cloud in the sky. I was buzzing with sexual arousal at the mere thought of ogling all those pretty feet. So I got straight down to business, focused on the matter at hand, and before I knew it, I was up and down that escalator like a trout in the rapids, ogling unsuspecting women's feet and toes as I went.
Some of the ladies wore flip-flops, the soles slapping against the delicate soles of their feet with every step, making my cock twitch in the moist depths of my underpants. Some wore sandals with a strap around the heel and ankle and big toe. But it's those sandals with the straps that wrap up the leg that really get my pulse racing; I think they look dead cute, like something from ancient Greece.
I had just made it to the top of the escalator for the tenth time that day when I caught sight of something that quickened my pulse. Blood pumped to my groin at an alarming rate, making my cock throb like a sore thumb. It was a young lady, a college type, eighteen or nineteen years of age, sitting on a stool outside the bakers, sipping a drink and eating a sausage roll. Her right leg was crossed over the left knee, looking all dainty and elegant, with a black shoe dangling off her big toe, swinging back and forth almost hypnotically. Then the shoe fell from her toe, revealing the cutest row of piggies I've ever seen in my life. I felt all weak and gooey inside and my eyes welled up with tears of joy. It was a joyous moment. I swear, that set of toes were the epitome of perfection, a real masterpiece, seemingly carved out of bronze.
I stood stock still, leering, munching my donor kebab. Drinking in that awe-inspiring sight, I felt a drop of chilli sauce trickle down my chin and onto my shirt as that barefoot held me captivated. The toes descended in size from the big toe all the way down to the little pinky. The nails were polished a deep shade of red, looking sweet and seductive. The skin was tanned, not too much, just nicely bronzed, as smooth as silk, no blemishes or wrinkles.
I found myself being drawn to her like a moth to flame. I had no control over my body. My legs had a mind all of their own, shuffling themselves in her direction, each step taking me closer to the Holy Grail of feet. I had no idea what I'd do once I reached her, but I knew I had to get a closer look at those little piggies, perhaps even get a sneaky picture on my phone. With every step I took towards that foot, my cock throbbed mightier, grew harder, and oozed slippery globules of pre-cum from its tip.
"Micky!" Came a voice in the distance, breaking me from my reverie.
Startled, my head darted round. I spotted a work colleague of mine, a guy named Trevor, ambling up the shopping isle with a look of concern on his face. "Ay, you best get back to the office, quick smart, mate."
"Give over!" I replied, gazing down at my watch. "I've only had half hour of me lunch break."
"Don't fuck about, Micky," he warned. "The gaffer's stewing. The whole office computer network went down just after you knocked off for your lunch break - a virus jamming the servers apparently. It's been tracked back to your computer. Our techie says it's a virus that originated from a foot fetish website called Susie's Soles, downloaded via your machine."
"Oh bollocks," I sighed.
* * *
An hour later I was traipsing home, moping, feeling dejected and embarrassed, suspended from work pending further investigation. In hindsight, I felt a bit daft to be honest. I mean, it was a hot day, so there were plenty of girls walking around wearing revealing footwear, so there was no need for me to be sitting at work trawling the internet for pictures of young ladies' feet in the first place. But, once again, as it had done many times before, my insatiable foot fetish had landed me in hot bother.
But my spirits were not dampened for long, for when I returned home, the most amazing thing happened to me - a monumental event that will live on in the memory for many years to come.
I stomped down the garden path feeling sorry for myself, bottom lip protruding like a child in pout. I swung open the door forcefully and entered the house. But then something interesting caught my eye that lightened my mood considerably. My daughter's flip-flops were by the front door, accompanied by a different pair, a white pair, much the same but belonging to another. They belonged to a young girl called Beth, my daughter's best friend. My daughter Christine brings Beth round to our house occasionally, and, I kid you not, she's a little cock tease if ever I've met one. She knows I have a penchant for ladies' feet and always pads around the house barefoot, wiggling and splaying her toes in the air, fondling her soles and arches, taunting me with her adorable little tootsies.
Well she'll be in for a shock if she baits me with her feet today, I thought. My cock's throbbing like a sore thumb, and I've not even set eyes on them yet. I don't think I could contain myself today, not after what I've been through.
Gazing down at the white flip-flops, I felt the sudden urge to give them a good sniff, perhaps even slip one down the front of my underpants and rub it all over my gooey cock. I decided against it though. I just had to plant my eyes on Beth's feet; the anticipation was killing me.
