My Stocking Fetish

Ever since the first time I slipped my first pair of nylons on my feet and legs as a girl, I was totally enraptured by the sight, sound, and feel of nylon. Whenever I was alone I couldn't wait to slip my shoes off and run my stocking feet up and down my legs and rub my feet together. It just felt so delicious and made my pussy tingle. Growing up I noticed that some boys liked to watch me do this which made it all the more exciting!

I always wore stockings or pantyhose and constantly dipped my feet in and out of my shoes, and if someone was watching, all the better. As I grew into puberty I found myself having orgasms doing these things. As I became an adult I noticed how many men were captivated by my dangling shoes from my toes! I met lots of guys this way.

In fact this is how I met my husband; he was attracted to my dangling shoes and stocking feet and he admitted it right off the bat. That's why I married him. I admired his honesty and forthrightness.

My husband and I lived a happy and fulfilled life; having and raising a son. And then it ended abruptly...when he was killed in a plane crash!

Sean was fifteen then. Growing up I noticed he had a lot of his father's traits, especially his fetish for stocking feet. I always saw him looking at my feet as I always wore hose every day because it pleased his father and I still wear them because I enjoy them so much.

Of course, being our son, I had never thought of Sean in a sexual way and so his glances and stares had no effect on me. Now, after being lonely and alone for three years and his ascent into adulthood as a young man of eighteen, Sean's attraction to my stocking feet, in spite of my efforts to suppress it, triggered those old lustful feelings again.

I was working now, and Sean was attending a college in our city and living at home. We had finished dinner and the kitchen was cleaned up, and we both sat in the living room to watch some TV. Sean usually sat on the sofa facing the TV, and I usually sat in the recliner sort of between the sofa and the TV. I picked up a newspaper and sat in the recliner. I didn't push it back but kept one foot on the floor and crossed my right leg over my left. As I flipped through the pages I started rocking my foot to slowly dislodge the shoe from my heel. As I did so that delightful feeling spread over me starting at my feet and moving right up to my pussy. I glanced over at Sean from behind the paper and sure enough, he was not looking at the TV but staring right at my foot. I rocked my foot letting my shoe slowly slide down my instep and swing from my toes. Watching Sean watch my shoe dangle from my stocking foot brought back all those delicious feelings that I experienced all those years doing this very thing.

Thinking I was engrossed in the paper, Sean stretched his legs out in front of him, and interlocking his fingers placed his hands together over his hardening penis, he tried to rub it surreptitiously so as not to attract my attention or appear too blatant. As I watched him I let my dangling shoe fall off my foot which elicited a silent "oh" from his lips. As is my usual habit, I uncrossed my legs and rubbed my stocking foot up and down my other leg, then slipped off my other shoe and rubbed my stocking feet together. I then pushed back in the recliner, ejecting the leg rest and made myself comfortable with my shoeless stocking feet stretched out for Sean to gaze at.

I couldn't see him from behind the paper, but I could hear him slide onto the floor, and the next thing I know he reached up and tickled the bottom of my foot, which I quickly jerked away and squealed as he said.

"Are your feet ticklish mom?"

"Yes!" I said, "but if you promise not to tickle them you can rub them for me, I could really use a good foot rub".

"I think I can manage that", he said.

With that I laid my head back and closed my eyes while Sean deftly rubbed the soles of my feet, then his hands were all over my feet at once, rubbing my toes and instep, my arches...it was heavenly. He was bringing me right to the edge, but I didn't want him to know, so I controlled my reactions as best I could.

After a while I pretended to be asleep. Sean's breathing became more rapid and I knew he wouldn't be able to control himself much longer. I felt his breath on my feet as he brought his face closer, then he pressed his face into the bottoms of my feet and slid his face up and down my feet. I had all I could do to keep my composure. I shifted my body slightly in "my sleep" to cover up the orgasm I was having. I could tell by the spasmodic movements of his face and hand on my feet that he was masturbating and his ejaculation helped to cover up my second orgasm!

Oh, that was so delicious. I only wish I could have shared it with him. I haven't been with another man since my husband died and I really miss the sex.

We were never religious as a family, but we were always socially proper and morally responsible. However, sometimes conditions in ones life cause ones physical and emotional needs to supercede ones moral judgement. Which is why, in my present frame of mind, I am not appalled by my own incestuous thoughts and desires. I would never seduce my son, but I would not hinder or object to his advances should he wish to pursue them.

I actually did fall asleep after that and was awakened by Sean's nudging to tell me he was going to bed and that I should do the same. I have no idea how many times he jerked off that evening to the sight and feel of my stocking feet.

This became pretty much a nightly ritual until one night, instead of sitting in the recliner, I asked Sean if he would mind if I lay on the couch with my feet in his lap so he could continue my foot rub.

"Perhaps that would be more comfortable for you", I said.

He agreed, and so I lay on my stomach and placed my feet in his lap with the bottoms of my stocking feet for him, (and me) to enjoy! It wasn't too long before I could feel his erection beneath my toes.

Again I feigned sleep after awhile and even faked a soft snore. When Sean was reasonably sure that I was asleep, I felt him get up and heard his pants drop to the floor. Then I felt him get back on the couch and I knew he was in a kneeling position as I felt his hard cock slide between the arches of my feet! Oh, that was so heavenly. I only wish I could see what he was doing or better yet I wish I could just turn over, lift my legs in the air, put my stocking feet in his face while he inserted his dick in my pussy. However, I didn't want to betray my consciousness, so I just reveled in the feeling of him fucking the soles of my stocking feet and enjoyed my own orgasm. 

This again became a nightly ritual. My favorite hose were Legg's Sheer Energy with reinforced toes. They are so silky and shiny and feel so delicious, they almost keep me in a constant state of arousal. They also have a cotton panel which can be cut out for easy access for my fingers or "whatever"! Since Sean and I have been indulging in out nightly "foot-fest", I always cut the panel out of my pantyhose, just in case, and I never wore panties while at home!

One night as he was attending to my stocking feet, he ran his hands up and down my legs and became so aroused that he kept right on going up under my dress. That's when he discovered my "crotch-less" pantyhose and missing panties!

It was as if he had discovered a hidden treasure. Well... he did! He was awe struck. He was hugging and caressing my nylon sheathed legs as usual. As he ran his hands up under my dress and over my buttocks he froze ... as his fingers felt skin!

"Oh my god', he thought. "All this delicious nylon with access to my Mother's pussy"! "She must be expecting me".

With that Sean shed all his clothes, lifted my dress over me and straddled my buttocks. I felt his huge hard-on slide up and down my crack and I started moaning and moving to allow him access to my cunt. I rose up on my knees and he entered my wet pussy from behind.

That was the beginning of our incestuous love affair. This became our "new" nightly ritual. I would lay on my back on the couch with my legs straight up in the air while Sean made love to my stocking feet and legs. Kneeling on the floor he would enter me. In this position I could easily rub my feet over his chest and face and we would fuck and fuck and fuck until we were completely exhausted.

Viva la hosiery!

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Foot fetish - Loving the Tutor's Feet

Edith Graham was in her senior year when she met Thomas Devine. She was a leggy blond with a nice looking face and a body to die for and was never short of dates or opportunities for sexual partners. She picked and chose among her suitors, discarding those who did not live up to her sexual demands and favoring those who did with her body, but not her love.

She had been tutoring since she was a freshman to pick up spending money to supplement the scholarships she held. One thing she did not want when she graduated was a large loan that she would have to retire. So far she had worked hard to avoid having to take out any loans.

Edith tutored in Government and Political Science, her two majors. Her intention was to go into some form of government work after she had earned a master's degree. She had been accepted by two prestigious graduate programs and was just waiting to see what levels of financial aid they offered her before deciding which one to accept.

Thomas Devine was a beginning freshman and knew he needed help if he was going to make it through to graduation. He had graduated first in his class from a small high school and was admitted to The State University because of a law that said all who graduated in the top five percent of their graduating high school class could go to The State University. He knew though that the competition at the University was stiff and he needed all the help he could get.

He signed up to be tutored in his intro poly sci course and was stunned when he went to his first tutoring session. Edith was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his eighteen years. 

Edith sized him up as a bright but unlearned young man who would benefit greatly from tutoring. Some of her tutees had been dullards and not worth her time and she had told them that when she dropped them. Besides, Tommy, as she thought of him, was kinda cute.

She had admitted him when he knocked and shook his hand as she introduced herself. As usual, she put the Tutoring sign on the outside doorknob and locked the door. She hated being interrupted when she was tutoring. 

Tommy sat in the chair placed in the front of the desk in the small room used by the tutors

Edith sat on the edge of the desk facing him. She gave him a list of assignments he was to prepare to discuss each session, culled from the syllabus of the intro course. As she spoke to him, outlining how they would proceed this semester she unconsciously swung her free leg back and forth, like a pendulum, her other foot resting on the floor.

Tommy tried to look at Edith's face but her swinging foot and shapely legs and thighs kept distracting him. His eyes dated from her face to her body to her legs and to her feet and tended to settle on her feet.

Edith wore a typical coed outfit; short skirt, short sleeved blouse, pantyhose and shoes. This day she had opted to wear a pair of open toed shoes because she had polished her toes the night before in preparation for a date she had that night.

Her pussy pulsed when she saw the way Tommy's eyes kept returning to her feet. She had taken a number of psych courses along the way and one had a section on deviant behavior, including fetishes. Tommy fit the profile of a person with a foot fetish.

She licked her lips excitedly, wondering if Tommy knew of his fetish.

He did and it tore him up. He had become aware of it this past summer when his sister came home from a summer abroad, bringing with her a cute Spanish girl.

The three of them would swim in the family pool and rest in the shade of the many trees that surrounded the yard. Their parents forbade them to sunbathe, telling hem that they were not going to have their children suffer from skin cancer.

One afternoon the girls were preparing for dates they had that night. Both of them polished their toe nails and fingernails. Tommy sat next to them watching. He could not take his eyes off the feet of the Spanish girl, Monica. They were small and dainty and he felt himself get hard looking at Monica apply the polish.

Monica, wise beyond her years in all things sexual, was aware of the attention Tommy was giving her feet. She saw his cock harden in his pants. Her pussy pulsed as she thought of ways to make use of his foot fetish, for she was sure Tommy was a foot worshiper. He may not be aware of it, but he is, she told herself. What a rush it would be to have him love her feet.

The next day Tommy's mother and sister went shopping. Monica opted to stay home. She wanted to be alone with Tommy. She dressed in her skimpiest bikini bathing suit and went out to the side yard and lay on a lounge chair that had been opened up like a bed and closed her eyes. Tommy, she knew would be by her side soon.

She was not disappointed. Tommy came out of the house and looked around casually, pretending to not know she was there. "Hi, Monica. I though you went with Mom and Sis."

Monica smiled and waved to him. "No. I did not want to go shopping. I just wanted to lie around." She patted the grass near her legs and asked Tommy to sit with her.

Tommy stared at her naked feet, painted toes, and then up her sexy legs to her tiny bikini panties which barely covered her pussy lips. His cock tented his shorts as he stared at her body.

He walked over and sat on the grass near her chair, his eyes on her feet. 

Monica raised her leg and looked at her foot. "Do you like the polish on my toenails, Tommy?"

He swallowed and stared at the bright red nails, his cock throbbing in his shorts. "They are very pretty."

Tommy did not know what was happening to him. All he knew was that he wanted to take Monica's foot in his hands and kiss and lick and suck on it and then her pussy. His body was trembling slightly as he stared at Monica's foot.

"Oh, just pretty? Don't you just love them, Tommy? Look at it and tell me it is not the prettiest foot you have ever seen." Monica pouted and raised her leg and put her foot close to his face.

Her foot so close to his mouth sent Tommy over the edge. His latent hunger to worship feet took over. He put his hands on her foot and drew it to his mouth, kissing her toes lightly.

Monica almost creamed when he did this. She was experienced sexually but nothing prepared her for the feel of a man's mouth kissing her foot. And when Tommy began to suck on her toes she felt her pussy sending a stream of her juice down her vagina. She closed her eyes and laid her head back; loving the sensations Tommy was creating.

Tommy did not disappoint her. He licked and sucked he toes and foot and then began to lick and kiss and suck his way up her legs to her crotch. When he got his head between her thighs Monica decided she would not take any chances that he would not love her pussy as he did her feet.

She put one hand to the back of his head and pulled his mouth forward while her other hand unfastened her bikini panties to expose her hot pussy. Before Tommy was really aware of what had happened he found his mouth for the first time pressed to a real, live, warm, wet pussy.

"Love my pussy the way you love my feet, Tommy. Make me orgasm. I'll fill your mouth with my cum."

And Tommy did. He kissed and licked and sucked at her pussy and clit until Monica orgasmed and she had a copious flow of hot cum that Tommy lapped up and drank down.

He spent many an hour worshiping Monica's feet and pussy and was very sad when Monica left for Spain. Now he was looking at another pair of beautiful shoes and feet and knew he was lost. He had hoped that when Monica left he would get over his love for feet and shoes but the sight of Edith's swinging foot sent him backward to the days of loving Monica.

Edith's voice shook him out of his reverie. "You OK, Tommy?"

Tommy looked up at her face and shook his head. "May I kiss your shoes and feet, Edith?"

Edith was stunned at the suddenness of Tommy's surrender to his fetish impulse. She had anticipated spending time getting Tommy to reveal his compulsion and to get him where she wanted him, his head between her thighs, after a suitable period of foot and shoe worshiping, of course.

"If that is what you want, Tommy, but you have to promise me you will do the work I have assigned."

Tommy nodded and then sat on the floor in front of her and took one of her feet in his hands. He carefully kissed and licked at her foot and shoe and then took the shoe off and kissed and licked and sucked on her nylon clad feet.

Slowly, with practiced care, he worked his way up her svelte legs to her crotch. He planted kisses on her panties and asked Edith to take off her undergarments so he could lover her pussy.

Edith was more than glad to comply and soon Tommy's mouth and tongue were at work on her hot pussy.

They spent the semester that way. Tommy would at the beginning of the\tutoring session recite his lesson for the day and then he would love her feet and pussy until the hour was over. He never asked to fuck Edith, being satisfied to worship her body with his mouth and tongue.

Tommy graduated high in his class and took a job with a large corporation. His first supervisor was a woman not much older than him. He fell in love with her feet and she fell in love with him.

After a suitable courtship they married and produced two children, neither of which had a fetish of any kind, which made Tommy and his wife happy because they knew how easy it was to exploit a person's fetish.

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Footjobs

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My John Has a Foot Fetish

Al has the perfect job to satisfy his foot fetish.

My name is Linda and I'm a prostitute. One of my regular clients is Al, the owner of Al's Shoe Store downtown. Al has a foot fetish.

Much in the way that a Yogi has been able to transform himself from living a solitary, spiritual lifestyle by practicing meditation in a way that translates the benefits of meditation and to allow him to recruit followers that will pay him to meditate with him, Al has managed to do the same. Because of his lower overhead and his higher need for women's feet than for their money, he sells discounted women's shoes, cheaper than those shoes found at the higher priced stores at the mall. Instead of being deemed weird and perverted, Al has managed to combine his occupation and his business with his pleasure and fetish, namely his fetish for women's feet and women's shoes.

Confining the uncontrollable urges he has to touch, fondle, and caress a woman's foot, he limits his touching to the back of her ankle. As if holding a priceless, breakable object, slowly and delicately, he removes her shoe, while holding her foot in place, before putting on the new shoe she selected. He's confessed to me that, while making it appear inadvertent, sometimes, he touches her toes on the pretense of fixing her sock or hose in readiness to fit and try on the new shoe.

For the women not wearing any socks, nylons, or pantyhose, as a matter of hygiene, he even goes so far as the put those little white socks on their feet and remove them from their feet when they are done trying on shoes. The women think that it's part and parcel of his personal service, but putting on and removing their white sock, gives him a valid excuse to touch their feet. He's practiced his foot fetish to such a high level of deception that no one would suspect him of having such a fetish.

Even though most women are unsuspecting of Al's foot fetish, Al has a decidedly different attraction and reaction to different women and their feet. Much like everyone else who doesn't have a foot fetish, he's attracted to beautiful woman. Alas, ignoring all the other good body parts, he's only interested in their feet. And they must have beautiful feet to maintain his interest and arouse more than his curiosity. 

Watching him removing a woman's shoe is like watching a florist arranging a delicate flower in place or a concert violinist readying his instrument before playing his solo piece. You can tell he loves his job and few would guess that he has a fetish for feet. If anything they'd say he was a dedicated and solicitous shoe salesman intent on giving the best personal service possible. 

Giving her feet all of his attention in the way of a podiatrist, he gently removes her shoe while staring at her feet, focusing on every curve, and concentrating on each delicate bone. Then, he leaves her foot uncovered, while he fetches the shoes she selected from the stockroom. Once back, he fits the new shoe in the way that Prince Charming would fit Cinderella with the glass slipper.

"How does that fit?"

"Perfect. I love these shoes."

"They are the perfect shoes for you, aren't they? And this is your lucky day, they are on sale."

"I'll take them."

"The second pair is half priced," he tells them hoping to spend even more time with their feet.

"Sure, okay. That's great. I could use another pair of shoes."

Even what she's wearing adds to his enjoyment of his foot fetish. He prefers naked feet, of course, but women wearing nylons, rare today, are higher up on his list than women wearing pantyhose. If they must wear pantyhose, he prefers the nude colored pantyhose, so that he can better see their toes. 

Speaking of toes, he loves sucking toes. He finds toes as erotic as a woman having ten clitorises. Can you imagine the delight he has in thinking of ten little toes as ten giant clitorises?

It's sometimes difficult for him to do his job and run his business without having his dose of women's feet. While alone in the stockroom searching for their shoe size, he often fantasizes and imagines having his way with their feet, which is why he comes to see me. There within the safety and privacy of a hotel room, he can finally play out his foot fetish fantasies without ridicule and without judgment.

"I got it," he says as if he's found the perfect panty in Victoria's Secrets store. "I found your size. Let's see if the shoe fits," he says taking her foot in hand and servicing his fantasy, as well as his store profit.

After a long week of controlling his sexual urges to have his sordid way with women's feet, it's when he's with me that he lets his inhibitions and his lust for my feet go wild. His time spent with me and my feet is his foot fetish drug that helps him make it through another week without losing his mind and touching women's feet in the way that he would want. If it was up to him, before sucking their toes, he'd caress, massage, and lick nearly every woman's foot that walked through his door and that he came in contact.

He fantasizes giving foot baths, one of his favorite things to do. He'd work in a salon giving pedicures, but there's not enough women who want pedicures and there's not enough money in that line of business for him to make a living. Besides, unless the woman was an exhibitionist and only there to flash him her panties or more, women would rather have another woman giving them a pedicure. His next best thing, one that allows him the enjoyment of his fetish for feet, while earning a good living, is to run and operate his little shoe store.

If it wasn't for me satisfying his foot fetish urges and giving him what he wants and what he needs, free albeit paid for access to my feet, he would not be able to control his urges for women's feet and women's shoes. Al would, no doubt, go crazy and sexually assault women's feet in the way that other men sexually assault the other parts of women's bodies, their asses, their tits, and their pussies. It's because of me and the time spent adoring my feet that he is still able to work as a women's shoe salesman and own a successful shoe store. By allowing his pot not to boil over, I let out some of his steam.

By the time he's done with his working week, helping women on and off with their shoes, he's so sexually charged that he can't wait to come see me each Sunday, the only day his store is not open. Whenever Al visits me, he brings me a selection of shoes for me to wear and to model for him. From flip flops, to sandals, to dressy evening shoes, to mules, to slippers, to high heels, to pumps, to stilettos, to flats, to open toed shoes, to athletic shoes, and to boots, he allows me to pick the pair that I'd like to keep, before returning the rest to his store, until next time when he brings another selection that he'd like to see me model.

"Oh, Al, I just love these boots. May I keep them?"

"They are yours to keep, Linda."

"Thank you, Al."

"It's my pleasure, Linda."

And he's not kidding when he said it was his pleasure because it is his pleasure that makes him feel the need to see me model his shoes.

I have a good thing going with Al. He pays me $200 a hour to wash, touch, kiss, lick, massage, and caress my feet. Then, when he's in the mood and if he has the time, he pays me another $100 to give me a pedicure and to paint my toes. Something that I would have to do myself or pay for at the spa anyway, he pays me to have him do it.

Sometimes, it's nearly as enjoyable for me than it is for him. Between the massages, the pedicures, the free shoes, and the money he pays for my services, I wish all my clients were as easy and as enjoyable as Al. I dare say, if that is all a woman had to do, model shoes while a man doted on her feet and then gave her the shoes to keep, along with some money and without ever having to remove her clothes and have sex with him, more women would become prostitutes.

Having him worship my feet and paint my toes is a win/win situation for me. He never wants me to touch him sexually, nor does he want to touch me sexually anywhere, other than my feet. He just wants my feet. By the time he's done paying homage and giving my feet his devotion, I'm so relaxed and a couple hundred dollars richer. 

I've been with other men who have a foot fetish, but Al is the only man I've been with who is only interested in that one part of my body, my feet. Other men touch and caress my feet and lick and suck my toes, before, after, and during having sexual intercourse with me, but not Al. With him, it's just about my feet and him wanting me to model his shoes. He is a true devotee to women's feet.

Fortunately for me, Al loves my feet. He says my feet are perfect. The most beautiful feet he's ever seen. They aren't too big and they aren't too small and he likes the fact that my feet are so soft and smooth and don't have any bunions and/or calluses. He loves kissing and sucking on my perfect little toes.

Because Al is so into my feet and willing to pay whatever I ask him to pay for the pure pleasure of being intimate with my toes, I take care of my feet with regular warm foot baths to keep them soft and free of any imperfections. I take a size 7 1/2 shoe. To be honest, I particularly like it when he sucks my toes and when he sticks his tongue in between my toes, it feels good in a weird way.

Yeah, sure it tickles a little when he touches and licks my feet, especially when he sucks my toes, but it feels good, too, in a sexually sensual and seductive way. I mean, I never get aroused in the way he does, which is why I don't understand him not wanting to have sex with me. I imagine he has sex with himself later, while thinking about touching my feet and licking and sucking my toes and that thought makes me want to tease him more by wiggling my toes.

To be honest, if I never had my feet licked and my toes sucked again, I wouldn't miss it. I would miss the foot massages, though. I enjoy those. And the pedicure is a nice luxury, too, especially since I don't have to pay for those. Not to mention, I enjoy all of those free shoes, along with the money he pays me for the pleasure of being so intimate with my feet.

The shoes are an added bonus that gives me more to look forward to, whenever he visits. Like a weekly Christmas on a Sunday morning, women can't have enough shoes, especially when they are free, no strings attached gift or in my case, attached strings are my business. My attached strings are sex for money. Pay me.

When I think more about it, if he were to tire of me and my feet and find another woman's feet to worship, I'd miss Al. I'm not ashamed to admit, for me, the real treat is when he massages my feet. Maybe because he enjoys it so, but he's a master foot massager. In the way that I love his foot massages, maybe I have a foot fetish, too, in that regard. I flash him my panty when he raises my leg, but he's not interested in my panty and/or in my pussy. He's only interested in my feet and in me modeling his shoes.

He's ravenous for my feet. He can't get enough of my feet. He wants my feet. He needs my feet. He loves my feet.

He even had a photographer photograph my feet. He had me wear a selection of his shoes as his advertising campaign. I modeled a dozen different types of shoes and he had the photos blown up and hung around his store. Now, he has something to look at, my feet wearing his shoes on his wall. A photo shoot that only took 4 hours, he paid me $1,200 for the pleasure and I got to keep all twelve pair of shoes.

He's the only guy I know with a foot fetish who doesn't want to see me put on stockings. I find that weird. Most foot fetish guys I've been with enjoy everything that has to do with feet, while having sex, especially while having sex. Not Al. Al isn't interested in the sex, just my feet. 

Maybe because he owns a shoe store and has seen and touched thousands of women's feet, he's more of a specialist, one with a refined foot fetish. It's just about my feet with him. With him it's not about my legs, or my stockings, or even having sex with me. He's just mad for my naked feet.

The first time he was with me, nearly two years ago, he was so crazy for my feet that he couldn't control himself. As soon as he saw my naked feet, he pulled out his cock and ejaculated all over them. That was the only time he did that, lost control over his senses and over my feet in that way.

When he did that, and in the way that he acted with the crazed look on his face, he frightened me. I told him that would be extra for the pleasure of masturbating on my feet and he paid me $500. Then, he spent the remainder of our time together washing his cum off my feet, while worshiping my feet. Ever since that first time, he started bringing me shoes. Maybe afraid that I wouldn't service him again, the free shoes was his weekly apology for going overboard, but he was truly taken with my feet.

Normal in every other way, other than the foot and shoe fetish that he has and that controls his desire and confines his lust, I like Al. He's good to me and I never have to buy shoes.

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