My first fetishist

It was a hot summer and after a gruelling session of exams I finally had some time for myself. I set up an ad, and soon I was bombarded with emails. Over coffee and ice-creams I met lots of people, each with their own story to tell.

It was after lots of fruitless meetings that I chose the one.

I was wearing strappy high heels sandals, a soft light brown leather that well accompanied my boho, airy dress and a number of silver bracelets. I was both excited and nervous, I really had no idea what to expect.

I can still see the scene very clearly, an elegant, bourgeois living room in a posh area of Rome. Wooden polished floors, a library full of books, white, crispy curtains. I was sitting on a large, cream-coloured sofa, he was kneeling in front of me. I could tell he was nervous as well, his voice almost trembled.

A hand on the nape of his neck, I ordered him to smell my feet through the sandals. The sniffing was intense, I could feel his breath on my toes, my musky and pungent scent, leather and sweat, entering his nose for the first time

Watching this middle-aged man, the portrait of the successful bourgeois, kneeling in front of me, enraptured by the smell of my feet, gave me a powerful punch, I could feel the muscles of my legs tightening in anticipation.

I then ordered him to lick the soles, the dirty, grimy soles with which I had walked all around Rome that hot summer. He obeyed immediately, but I wasn’t expecting the sparkle in my groin, I had always thought that licking shoes was just part of the fetish imagery, I hadn’t expected such a physical reaction for a gesture that didn’t touch directly my body.

Every strap was carefully unbuckled, before giving me a massage: between his capable hands I could feel my feet losing stiffness. Now soft and warm, he started licking my toes, it was pleasant feeling his tongue on the soles, along the arch and between the toes, nibbling delicately at my heel. His hands, fondling my instep and my ankle, sent shivers along my back. I have sensitive feet, and a mix of touches gives me many sensations, along all my body…

The strongest impact was seeing my small fair-skinned foot on his tanned and expressive face, disappearing in his mouth. I moved it back and forth, forcing him around it, making it the whole centre of his sensations.

From then on, I commanded the days and times when I would convene him to worship my feet. He would do it with total devotion, passion and extreme delicacy.

pictures by Alph Photography