Here’s my story, sad but true (well, really not sad). I’m a trial attorney with most of my practice consisting of criminal defense work. I’m 40 years old and very successful. I first met my wife, Kristy, 3 years ago. Then she was the girlfriend of a client of mine. That client, Anthony, was always in minor trouble (primarily related to his sale of marijuana). He was a good client and pretty sharp and smart. Of course, he was an inner city black and 23 years old. Kristy is white and when I met her, she was working as a dancer at a local gentlemen’s club. She was 21. She had been arrested for a DUI and, so, Anthony asked me to take care of her case. While her case was pending, her and Anthony broke up. At the time, he told me “she’s crazy.” Once I started my involvement with her, I learned why they split (more on that later).
Kristy was, and is, fucking gorgeous. She’s 5' 6", weighs 110, blonde hair and blue eyes. I was captivated by her looks the first time I met her. I should tell you that I have an out of control foot fetish and the first time she came to my office, she wore flip flops and constantly let them dangle from her feet. I couldn’t take my eyes off her or her feet. Anyway, her DUI case was resolved during a night court session and, when it was over, we made small talk as she paid her fine at the clerk’s window. “Well,” she said, “I guess I don’t eat tonight.” Her fine constituted all the money she had in her purse. No problem, I told her, I’d take her out to eat since I hadn’t eaten, myself. So, we went to a little bar/restaurant to get dinner (and drinks). Later, she told me that she knew from the first time she met me that I would do anything she wanted, but, that night, I thought I started out pretty cool.
We really drank a lot and through the course of the night, she told me her life story. She was raised in an upper middle class suburb by fairly well to do parents. Her parents, however, were complete racists which, of course, piqued her interest in black guys. She told me that through high school, she dated a few white guys but, one night, in college, met a black guy at a bar and went home with him. She told me (very bluntly) that he was a fantastic fuck and, after that, she never dated a white guy, again. She had had (including Anthony) 3 black boyfriends and claimed that each one was sexually superior than anything she had known while dating white guys. She was fairly ***** and told me that she not only loved their cocks (she said penises-cocks is my word) but loved their dark skins and muscles. She also liked the way they treated her. Then she stopped. “What do you mean, the way they treated you?” She got embarrassed but I prodded her. She wouldn’t answer. Then she said, “tell me something embarrassing about you, and then I’ll tell you.” So, despite serious reservations, I told her about my foot fetish. “I knew it,” she exclaimed. “I knew you were watching my feet at your office.” Now it was me who was embarrassed. She asked what I liked to do and I told her smell, lick and kiss feet. “So, were you thinking about being my little foot slave in the office?” My awkward silence gave her the answer.
She told me not to be embarrassed because a lot of guys at the club had the same fetish. One former customer used to pay her $200 for 30 minutes with her feet in her car after her shift. Now, I pressed her on the way her black guys treated her. “Like a slut,” she told me. My cock became rock hard, not only at the thought of her feet, but, I had always had a thing for slutty girls.
Truthfully, unlike a lot of guys who write their stories, I dreamed of being a cuckold since high school (although I didn’t know the term “cuckold” then). In fact, one of my girlfriends in high school cheated on me once (and I knew it, but, she didn’t know that I knew). We had been at a party and got in a fight. I left, but, waited in my car. An hour later, I saw her leave with another guy. I drove to her house and waited for 2 hours. Finally, she came home, looking completely disheveled. I suspected she’d fucked. I couldn’t believe how turned on I was. I got her to come to my car to talk. She seemed quite nervous as I apologized, but, she accepted my apology. As I talked, I rubbed first her feet, then her legs, ultimately, I started kissing her neck. I know it sounds strange, but, I could smell the sex on her. I pulled off her pants (she tried to stop me-but I pushed, saying, “I thought you forgive me, come on, baby, I love you”). Then, my mouth went straight to her pussy and I ate her out like there was no tomorrow. I know, now, I tasted cum (then, I wasn’t so sure) in her and I nearly exploded in my pants. I brought her to orgasm and she was so tired, she didn’t blow me or fuck me. I couldn’t even make it home, I stopped on a side street and masturbated.
Back to dinner with Kristy. The night was obviously getting strange. We sat across from each other at a booth as we drank and ate and, suddenly, I felt her foot (out of her shoe) move up my leg towards my crotch. “You still want to be my foot boy?” she asked. I started rubbing her foot in my hand and said, “God, yes.” She smiled, wickedly, and said, “Good, let’s go.”
I followed her to her apartment and she got in my car to go to my place. In my car, she extended both her feet onto my lap and rubbed my cock (through my pants). I wanted to cum then and there. She told me, “You know, foot boys only get feet.” I smiled and said, “I know.” And, she said, “foot boys pay for the privilege of worshiping my feet.” I told her I would pay whatever she wanted. As it turns out, I’ve been paying ever since......
Kristy was, and is, fucking gorgeous. She’s 5' 6", weighs 110, blonde hair and blue eyes. I was captivated by her looks the first time I met her. I should tell you that I have an out of control foot fetish and the first time she came to my office, she wore flip flops and constantly let them dangle from her feet. I couldn’t take my eyes off her or her feet. Anyway, her DUI case was resolved during a night court session and, when it was over, we made small talk as she paid her fine at the clerk’s window. “Well,” she said, “I guess I don’t eat tonight.” Her fine constituted all the money she had in her purse. No problem, I told her, I’d take her out to eat since I hadn’t eaten, myself. So, we went to a little bar/restaurant to get dinner (and drinks). Later, she told me that she knew from the first time she met me that I would do anything she wanted, but, that night, I thought I started out pretty cool.
We really drank a lot and through the course of the night, she told me her life story. She was raised in an upper middle class suburb by fairly well to do parents. Her parents, however, were complete racists which, of course, piqued her interest in black guys. She told me that through high school, she dated a few white guys but, one night, in college, met a black guy at a bar and went home with him. She told me (very bluntly) that he was a fantastic fuck and, after that, she never dated a white guy, again. She had had (including Anthony) 3 black boyfriends and claimed that each one was sexually superior than anything she had known while dating white guys. She was fairly ***** and told me that she not only loved their cocks (she said penises-cocks is my word) but loved their dark skins and muscles. She also liked the way they treated her. Then she stopped. “What do you mean, the way they treated you?” She got embarrassed but I prodded her. She wouldn’t answer. Then she said, “tell me something embarrassing about you, and then I’ll tell you.” So, despite serious reservations, I told her about my foot fetish. “I knew it,” she exclaimed. “I knew you were watching my feet at your office.” Now it was me who was embarrassed. She asked what I liked to do and I told her smell, lick and kiss feet. “So, were you thinking about being my little foot slave in the office?” My awkward silence gave her the answer.
She told me not to be embarrassed because a lot of guys at the club had the same fetish. One former customer used to pay her $200 for 30 minutes with her feet in her car after her shift. Now, I pressed her on the way her black guys treated her. “Like a slut,” she told me. My cock became rock hard, not only at the thought of her feet, but, I had always had a thing for slutty girls.
Truthfully, unlike a lot of guys who write their stories, I dreamed of being a cuckold since high school (although I didn’t know the term “cuckold” then). In fact, one of my girlfriends in high school cheated on me once (and I knew it, but, she didn’t know that I knew). We had been at a party and got in a fight. I left, but, waited in my car. An hour later, I saw her leave with another guy. I drove to her house and waited for 2 hours. Finally, she came home, looking completely disheveled. I suspected she’d fucked. I couldn’t believe how turned on I was. I got her to come to my car to talk. She seemed quite nervous as I apologized, but, she accepted my apology. As I talked, I rubbed first her feet, then her legs, ultimately, I started kissing her neck. I know it sounds strange, but, I could smell the sex on her. I pulled off her pants (she tried to stop me-but I pushed, saying, “I thought you forgive me, come on, baby, I love you”). Then, my mouth went straight to her pussy and I ate her out like there was no tomorrow. I know, now, I tasted cum (then, I wasn’t so sure) in her and I nearly exploded in my pants. I brought her to orgasm and she was so tired, she didn’t blow me or fuck me. I couldn’t even make it home, I stopped on a side street and masturbated.
Back to dinner with Kristy. The night was obviously getting strange. We sat across from each other at a booth as we drank and ate and, suddenly, I felt her foot (out of her shoe) move up my leg towards my crotch. “You still want to be my foot boy?” she asked. I started rubbing her foot in my hand and said, “God, yes.” She smiled, wickedly, and said, “Good, let’s go.”
I followed her to her apartment and she got in my car to go to my place. In my car, she extended both her feet onto my lap and rubbed my cock (through my pants). I wanted to cum then and there. She told me, “You know, foot boys only get feet.” I smiled and said, “I know.” And, she said, “foot boys pay for the privilege of worshiping my feet.” I told her I would pay whatever she wanted. As it turns out, I’ve been paying ever since......
