It’s not feet per se that make me cringe. Years of barefoot martial arts lessons inured me to all but the stankiest specimens; not just seeing them but also touching them and having them rudely jabbed into every inch of my personal space up to and including the very windows of my soul 1. Furthermore, giving massages, including those that extend to the ends of the extremities kind of totally gets me off. I’m even fine with kissing a partner’s feet, under the right circumstances (for example, not immediately after hiking through swamps nor before the Lamisil kicks in nor at church nor any combination of the prior). It my twisted logic it’s only my own toes which are too filthy to make even incidental contact with another human mouth.
Recently I had the opportunity to experience one of my last long-cherished unfulfilled sexual fantasies; to wit, the elusive man-woman-man threesome.2 I’ve been with groups large enough to take the field as a baseball team, I’ve swelled the crowd at celebratory blow-jobs, I’ve tag-teamed with a pal more times than I can count — yet never had I enjoyed the undivided attention of two men at once.
Poor me! Poor, poor me!
It seemed as though I’d go to my grave with that dream unrealized until last week when, if you’d been looking closely as I diligently typed away, you would suddenly have seen a smile spread fast across my face as the recognition set in that I could actually set this thing up.
I texted a friend before I lost the nerve. Will you help make a fantasy come true?
“What’s the fantasy,” he wrote back. He’s cagey, that one, but after a quick explanation he agreed to take part in my plan. I’d hoped to have the second leg of the Eiffel Tower booked before the night in question but one thing after the next got in the way until I found myself sitting on the floor at the party with the taste of rubber-bands in my mouth; at that moment someone I’ve known for years but never had a chance to know in a naked sense wandered into my field of vision.
“You know,” I said suavely, placing the beer a safe distance behind me, “if you’d stand in front of me my mouth would be right at the level of your zipper.”3 Moments later we three were on the bed: dripping bodies positioned between my legs and over my face, cunt-stuffed and mouth-full of alternating cock and tongue, coming and coming and coming while making a valiant effort not to choke while screaming.
It was everything I could have hoped for and I could have died a happy woman until the moment that a shriek tore out of my throat not from pleasure but because a random dude who’d been conscripted into nipple-tweaking service began sucking on my toes.
Nearly a day later I cannot shake the creeping horror4 over the fact that a stranger was subjected to my feet. What must they have tasted like is all I can think; I imagine each step they took (dirty carpeting, hot car, long trudge through hotel, much shoeless hotel wandering) and the myriad germs they must have acquired along the way.
If there were a way to ensure complete pedalian sterility it might be a different story, but until such a time that it can be unquestionably demonstrated that no germs lurk between my toes or slither over my arches I won’t be comfortable with another person putting his mouth on my feet; even that wouldn’t be enough, because how could I get from the tub (assuming that cleanliness could be attained in a tub!) to the bed without reinfecting myself with whatever germs lived on the intervening floor? Would that I could tiptoe across a blanket make of unicorn exhalations and moonbeams!
Not, mind you, that any of this dimmed my appreciation of the main act. Oh no it didn’t. I’ve got visuals in my spank-bank that will last right through my rocking-chair years. However, the next time such a scene plays out — whether in my imagination or in real life — there is one thing I know for sure: Toe-sucking will be off the menu.
- Nastiest martial arts injury: cut on eyelid inflicted by raggedy toenail. HURL. [↩]
- You might be surprised by how difficult it is to set up a MFM. Between fears that being in such close proximity with another penis will render one gay and insecurity over cock size far more men have turned me down outright than have considered the proposition. Men, wise up. If you are invited to a threesome please do not let these worries stop you. [↩]
- Someone should hire me to develop pick-up lines. Or hire me NOT to develop pick-up lines. [↩]
- This is only a very slight exaggeration [↩]
Not only do I enjoy the act of orally titillating my partner’s feet, they enjoy it as well. Perhaps in time you’ll lose your revulsion, too.
As to the toe sucking: The proper way to do it is to have your lover(s) scoop you, clean-toed, out of the bathtub and carry you to bed. Then you can rest easy knowing they are sparkling clean =D, no unicorns/moonbeams required.
I love you even a bit more now. I too share the ‘my toes are gross’ mentality, and while for me at least, it’s not at all rational… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get over it. One lover though it was odd but respected my feelings (lest he get kicked in the face!) but it is something that is difficult to explain!
Ooh! If you can’t be swept into bed in their arms, what about a pair of those blue disposable bootie things that surgeons wear?
I vote for learning to walk on your hands.
Many men have foot fetishes. I don’t understand why women dislike it that much. If you kissed, there are thousands of bacteria in the mouth. If oral was performed, was it after a bathroom stop? Doesn’t sweat accumulate there, too? Foot rubs are wonderful. Reflexologist tell you the bottom of your feet stimulate many internal organs when rubbed. Don’t understand women’s hesitance to it.
I know! It makes no sense! :)
One thing you didn’t mention was whether the toe-sucking *felt* good. I’m guessing you weren’t able to get past the “my toes are gross!” thought to even register whether you liked it.
Fantasies are beautiful things; glad you were able to realize one of yours!
That’s exactly it. :)
The Wet Spots have a rather hilarious video on just this topic: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ustNTuq2HKc&feature=youtube_gdata
I personally love having my toes sucked (and/or feet rubbed and worshipped, etc) but I know a lot of people for whom it’s a total squick. I think the carried-to-the-bed solution sounds like a good one.
Oh good, I’m glad someone else sent this already :)
Per #2, as someone who has turned down a MFM invite, I can tell you none of those things were an issue–who cares about any of those trivial things? For me, emotional feelings for my partner were my sticking point.
As for all the surprising comments about toes, you’ve got it backward, our mouths have FAR more bacteria than our skin, nevermind our feet. Our bacteria is important to keep us healthy and defend us by crowding out the bad bacteria.
Clean feet that are carried to bed would be vulnerable to all sorts of bacteria introduced from someone’s mouth. If anything, you’d want to wear your socks from before washing your feet beforehand, and give time for your flora to reestablish.
Here’s a great comparison list of skin/mouth bacteria: http://www.textbookofbacteriology.net/normalflora.html
Here’s a wonderful pic of specific skin distribution: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Skin_Microbiome20169-300.jpg
Logic has nothing to do with this, and I will not look at your graphics because if I did I’d never sleep again.
Heh, actually, to stop the production of hormones that cause irrational reactions, your only choice is rational awareness and focusing on the reality instead of what the chemicals in your body try to get your brain to do.
Yeah, logic has nothing to do with it, but information and realization do (I’ve witnessed having helped folks scared of heights rappel from cliffs and other phobias).
But if you don’t want to know your feet aren’t germy at all, wait, how doesn’t that help you sleep? ;-)
(BTW, so now I’m curious, who erroneously taught you your feet are germ ridden anyway?)
So the only way to stop being irrational is…to stop being irrational?
:)
ps–I have no idea!
LOL!
Touché! Ironically, they aren’t opposites from a mental perspective in my understanding.
What happens is hormones act on a very reptilian part of your brain, the effect of this is to curtail the thinking, critical part of your brain.
It’s the same as when you are in love, that first smitten phase when you are seeing through rose colored glasses, oblivious of your partner’s blatant faults.
However, yes, if you focus on the knowledge, you can mitigate being overwhelmed by the biochemistry. It’s not one or the other, it’s both! In time and with practice, then fewer hormones affect things in the future.
It’s one way they help people who have a fear of flying, putting them in simulators, practicing, familiarizing them with the routines, so it becomes second nature. Next thing you know they are sitting on a plane.
They might have more adrenalin initially in the simulator than they ultimately do when they fly. However in both cases, they have to keep their wits about them, or their adrenalin will make their heart race and overwhelm their rational thought.
Just as your martial arts experience desensitized you to bare feet.
I tend to see emotional reactions, even unjustified ones, as inherently rational–because there is a reasonable cause for them, one’s brain chemistry and the background that led to it. However if it impedes quality of life, then it seems worthwhile to alter that and allow enjoyment of greater things.
So for me, it only would be irrational to be squeamish about feet if all your knowledge, background and experience demonstrated they were equivalent to chocolate. But presumably somewhere along the line the exact opposite occurred, and I guess my curiosity will have to rest there!
Thank you for sharing the discourse however, it’s appreciated!
PS: Of course this made me curious about the microbiology of chocolate, and it turns out it’s rather dramatic (I was stupidly forgetting the fermentation stage of it’s production). I’ve never been “into” feet, but they are sounding tastier and tastier all the time! ;-)
There are some things you just can’t think about the origin or background of or you would never do it: such as eating a sausage link or chicken wings.
First I want to say congratulations on fulfilling your fantasy! And mine. Ahhhmazing. I’m green with envy. I’ll be sure to ask you for tips should the occasion ever occur. [Doubt it. But still hopeful.]
Second, Yes! I understand the feet thing. I danced throughout childhood and yeah a ballerinas feet don’t always smell that great, and I’ve seen some gnarly toes as well. But you know I’m sure your toes were entirely lovely, because he sucked on your ten little piggies. So they must’ve been appealing for him to want to. ;-)
“This one went to the market, and this one went…”
I think a lot of women have issues with their bodies and don’t realize men see so many things about their bodies that arrouse them. If it was all T&A, &V, sex would become repetitive and routine pretty quickly. I bring a lot of things into play – nape of the neck, back of the knee, fingers, the little indentation of the spine along the back, the toes, ankles, heels, inner thighs – during lovemaking. A friend of mine thought her feet were disgusting and she had such perfect feet she could have been a foot model, if there is such a thing. I too am curious now as to what your feet look like.
My feet are totally average looking. I *like* how my feet look.
It’s just the germ thing that squicks me out. :)
This toe-tally happened to me too!! I had a girlfriend over for drinks and was not on the prowl at all – I was in my jammies, no makeup. Thank god I showered tho because she ended up seducing me and spending the night! At one point she sucked my toes and I flipped out internally because I was not prepared for that at all. That details added to the oddness of the encounter. My partner teases me about it from time to time, such as sending me these funny billboard typo he saw on his summer road trip: http://twitpic.com/26w3en