"I've been in quite a writing rut lately, with several of my best stories left unfinished for months now. Many people tell me the only way to get out of a writer's block is to keep writing. Hence, I wrote this story based off something peculiar I noticed at a party; a girl sniffing a pair of flats. At first, I amused myself with the idea the girl had a foot fetish, but soon realized they were hers when she immediately put them on. She just wondered if they smelled bad, nothing sensual about it. Then I thought about the fact this fetish is very male dominated. All those porn actresses you see worshipping each other's feet are doing it for pay, not their own pleasure. So what if this woman did end up having a foot fetish? Well, I'd like to imagine the story would go a little like this..."
There are times when you just wanna go out and party the night away with good friends, good beer, and good music. Your emotional self feels ready to be the life of the party, to kick back and maybe do something legendary (or really stupid). Or, you arrive at a party where you know virtually no one, the beer is shit, and you want nothing but to go back home.
Unfortunately, I fell into that second category during this particular night. Sure, there were plenty of pretty girls and the music was decent, but being there was an absolute buzzkill for me for whatever reason. My drinking buddy certainly was having a good time, so much that he'd forgotten to include me in it. Most of the girls appeared so drunk already that there was seemingly a puking contest going on between them all, the blonde in the ripped skirt winning by a longshot.
My story isn't about those girls though, but about one other girl I took notice of. Like me, she seemed out of a place; distant, bored, sober, and somewhat ignored by her friends. My guess was she might be the designated driver of the group, which can be pretty disinteresting when you can't let loose like everyone else. I tried talking with her a twice, but she didn't want to be social whatsoever and didn't dive into our conversations at all.
In a room full of skinny drunk chicks, this plus size beauty might have gotten a few looks from the judging skank types. Don't get me wrong, she wasn't fat or obese, but she just had more in the right places. Personally, I thought she looked pretty damn good, even without the skimpy outfit. She wore loose fitting jeans with the heem covering her cream-colored bare feet, her butt still managing to look spectacular in them. Her big, long blonde hair streaked down her back, a Chicago Bears cap on her head. The only thing really hugging her curves was her white tee, complemented by her decent rack.
Though her cap somewhat covered her face, I noticed her lashes were long and pretty, not to mention natural. They went lovely with her big, teardrop eyes that looked rather bored at the time. It was obvious she wanted out, and I couldn't blame her. A part of me wanted to ask if she wanted to leave with me and get a drink at the nearby bar. However, I was a bit nervous with taking such a step. She wouldn't even tell me her name. Without any encouraging sign, I left her alone.
As I got bored of the party, I stopped drinking. I had every intention of bailing out as soon as I felt good enough to walk out and catch a late bus. Before I could leave, I remembered to grab my jacket in one of the bedrooms. The door was slightly ajar and a light was on, so I didn't feel wrong about opening the door.
Walking in, I noticed that same girl in the corner, doing something strange. She was on her knees, seemingly examining an item quite closely. I just watched for a moment, not announcing my presence. It became clear though that she wasn't looking, but rather had her nose buried in some girl's shoe, a leather flat to be exact. Her eyes were closed, a pleasant grin on her cherry red lips as she took in the apparent aroma.
To be wholly honest, I wasn't too confused about what was going on. Plenty of people have what are called foot or shoe fetishes. Even I admit a nice set of pretty, painted toes after a nice jog are nice to suck on, or wrap around my cock. Two girls I had dated loved the fact I'd do that for them, along with a good foot rub whenever requested. What was plainly different with this situation was that I caught a girl smelling another girl's shoe, not some pervert guy with a raging hardon shifting through footwear.
Not wishing to ruin her moment, I continued to stand there without making a sound. Her back was turned to me and legs folded, affording me a decent view of her scrunched soles. Like the rest of her, there was nothing skimpy about those fleshy, wrinkly soles of hers. My imagination ran wild, thinking about how stinky those feet of hers must spell. Now she wasn't the only one excited, her soft moans audible even with the distant music blaring loudly. With restraint, I didn't touch myself, looking down at the lickable feet of hers. I never imagined seeing a girl doing something like this, so I couldn't let the moment slip away.
However, the moment ended with her turning her head slightly, apparently to look around to pick up another smelly pair of shoes belonging to their drunk owner. Right as she did so, she caught sight of me and completely froze. Her gorgeous eyes inflated in a mixture of fright and surprise, and for a few seconds neither of us said nothing. I certainly didn't know what to say.
"How long have you been there?" she asked nervously, speaking up first.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Long enough, I guess."
Her face was quickly turning from white to red, embarrassed to be caught in such a private moment. I also noticed her jeans were unzipped, telling me she might have been planning on feeling herself up a bit as well. Feeling slightly guilty now for watching, I spoke up before her mouth could even open.
"Look, I'm sorry but the door was open, so I came in quietly," I explained. "I didn't mean to intrude or an-"
"Please don't tell anyone!" she pleaded, starting to get upset. "My friends have no idea, and I'm not sure how anyone would feel about this! I just came in here to get my wallet, and I just couldn't..."
"Resist?" I finished her sentence. "Yeah, I hear you on that one. I kinda have a thing for feet too. Actually, a lot of guys I know are really."
She shook her head. "Yeah, but no girls right? I mean, liking feet is a guy thing. If anyone knew I liked feet, I couldn't show my fucking face in public ever again!"
"Calm down," I said reassuringly, as she began to get more upset. "I'm not telling anyone here anything. I promise."
I kneel down next to her, taking her hand in an effort to cool her down. Tears rolled down her flushed cheeks, though it appeared she was attempting to get herself together after my words. I gently rubbed her hand in mine, to my surprise not pulling away either. It wasn't until after she wiped all her tears away that I let go, and she looked me in the eye.
"Thanks guy, really appreciate it," she told me with a smile. "Umm, you told me your name right? Sorry, terrible with shit like that."
"It's Adam," I said.
"Nice to meet you Adam," she replied. "My name is Kelsi. Sorry if I was kind of a bitch earlier. Got dragged here with my cousin and her friends."
This made sense to me. "I'm in the same boat, except my cousins are in Oregon doing hipster shit." That made her chuckle, as I continued. "My buddy is the guy in the Northface super drunk right now. Thought it would be fun to go out with him, but not tonight."
She rolled her eyes in agreement. "My cousin is such a drama queen. Her friends are no better, and I'm having like zero fun here."
"I don't know anyone here really," I went on.
"Same. No one really interesting either," she said.
"Except you," I complimented.
Kelsi laughed. "You think I'm interesting huh? I thought earlier you were just trying to take me back to your place for a night. Guess I was wrong, sorry."