Sucking My Toes On A
Deserted Beach
Published early as a preview here
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October 30, 2023.
Official publication date for the main page of our
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On a cloudy day in the middle of the week, I was reading a
book on a wide stretch of beach in Marina del Rey when I saw a tall man in
my peripheral view walking towards me. I could tell by the footsteps he
was leaving in the sand that he had exited the water's edge to make a
beeline in my direction.
It's not uncommon for a man to leave the water's edge to take a closer
look at a woman who, let's face it, is practically naked in a bikini that
barely covers anything. How can they not take that look, right? After all,
it's in their nature.
I'm not usually bothered by it because most men will slowly walk on by
after taking a look to satisfy their need to enjoy the female form. I
happen to be in good shape with a tanned, and toned 36-26-36 frame.
Generally speaking, I find it flattering when a man alters his walk along
the beach to enjoy a closer look.
Some men, though, come across as a little creepy, so if they try to say
something to me, I just politely tell them that I want to continue reading
my book. Most of the time they take the hint, and leave me in peace.
As the man who made a beeline in my direction got closer, I could see that
he was younger than me by probably about ten years. I wondered if he would
say anything to me, or if he'd just keep walking. Even though he was good
looking, I didn't really care one way or the other what he did.
Most of the time when a man walks by me while I'm reading, I keep my eyes
glued to my book. This time, though, I looked up in his direction, and I
smiled. Smiling for me is second nature. I do it often when I'm out, and
about, especially when somebody's eyes meet mine in passing, and they're
greeting me with a warm smile.
That's what he did. He greeted me with a warm smile.
Then he said to me, "Hi. I don't think I've seen you out here
on the beach before. Are you visiting, or do you live here in Marina
del Rey? I live on the beach in Santa Monica."
"On the beach?" I laughed. "You're not
homeless, are you?"
"Thankfully no," he answered. "I rent an
apartment that faces the beach. It's just south of the Santa Monica
Pier."
"Got it," I replied, "I just moved here
from New York City, and I'm leasing a condo here on the peninsula."
"Ah," he replied, "no wonder you're not out
on the beach in my neck of the woods. I'm so glad that I decided to
walk south instead of north today. Otherwise, I wouldn't have seen
you."
"Do you always walk up to women on the beach, and start a conversation
with them?" I asked with a giggle.
"Not always," he answered.
"So why'd you stop to talk to me?" I asked.
"Other than the obvious, you mean?" He replied.
"I mean, you're very attractive, but that isn't the reason,"
he added.
"So what's the reason?" I asked.
"It's kind of embarrassing," he replied without
answering.
"Don't worry about it," I told him. "Just
tell me. Now you've got me curious."
"Okay," he drawled, "I guess I should tell
you since you have the right to know. But if my answer freaks you out,
then just be straight with me, and I'll be on my way."
"Freaks me out?" I said to him. "Fine. If
it freaks me out, I'll let you know, and you can be on your way."
"Okay," he drawled again, "uh, uh, I think
that you have really beautiful looking feet. That's why I wanted to at
least say hello."
"That's what you thought might freak me out?" I said to
him. "You're forgetting that I'm from New York City. Nothing
freaks me out. So you like my feet, huh?"
"I do," he answered. "I'm more of a sole
man than anything else, so I just had to take a closer look."
I had laid face down on large beach towel to read my book, so I could see
why the position I was in would compel him to make a beeline in my
direction.
"If I had been lying face up," I asked, "would
you have come over to take a look, and talk to me."
"Well sure," he confessed. "I mean, I love
toes, too, and I can see how perfectly pedicured yours are. They're
absolutely scrumptious looking!"
"Scrumptious?" I said to him. "You mean
tasty looking?"
"Exactly," he answered, "but you have to
remember that I have a foot fetish."
"So what would you do to my feet if I let you?" I asked.
"I would start off by giving you a foot massage,"
he answered. "May I?"
"That would be nice," I told him. "What
else would you do?"
"Honestly?" He asked.
"Yes," I said to him. "Be honest so
that I won't be surprised if I let you give me a foot massage."
"I would suck your toes," he told me. "In
the foot fetish world it's called shrimping. Have you ever had anybody
suck your toes before?"
"I haven't," I answered him with intrigue. "I
don't even know what that feels like."
"There's only one way to find out," he smiled
mischievously.
"Here on the beach?" I asked.
"It's a perfect day for it," he assured me. "There's
almost nobody around because it's so cloudy, and I promise you that
I'll be very discreet about it."
"Maybe I'll let you give me a foot massage," I told him.
"I like getting those. But I'm not so sure that I want you to
suck my toes, especially on a public beach."
"I understand," he told me. "I'll tell you
what," he added, "if I have the opportunity
to suck your toes without anybody around to see what I'm doing, I'll
only continue if you like how it feels. I mean, if it feels good, and
nobody can see what's going on, you might as well enjoy it, right?"
He had a point, and to be quite frank, I was really curious about what it
felt like to have my toes sucked.
"I can't believe that I'm going to say yes to this,"
I laughed, "but if I don't say yes to this now, I'll probably
change my mind in another minute or two."
"Thank you," he said rather sheepishly. "You're
in the perfect position for it. Just close your eyes, and relax. I
promise to keep my eyes out for anybody who may wander in our
direction. If I have to temporarily stop, feel free to keep your eyes
closed, and stay relaxed. Then I'll continue when the coast is clear."
"You better start before I change my mind," I told him
with a laugh.
"No worries," he assured me. "By
the way," he added, "if for any reason you
want me to stop, just let me know, and I'll stop."
I didn't respond. I simply uttered an approving moan, and I shook my head
in affirmation.
As I laid there, I was pleasantly surprised by not only how incredibly
good he was at giving a foot massage, but at how long he massaged both of
my feet. I had expected him to get right into sucking my toes from almost
the start, but that didn't happen. Perhaps it was the anticipation of
having my toes sucked that made me desire it, but the longer that he
didn't suck my toes, the more that I hoped he would.
At the same time, at one point I said to him, "The way that
you're massaging my feet feels so good that there's no way that I'm
going to ask you to stop. You'll have to stop on your own after you've
had enough of it."
"I'm glad you feel that way," he replied. "But
just so you know," he added, "your feet are
so perfect that it's going to be hard for me to stop. And lucky for
us, the beach today is really deserted."
I'm not sure if it was because I said what I did, but a couple of minutes
later he started to lick my toes, and suck on them one by one. His warm
mouth, and probing tongue felt incredible. I could tell that he had done
this many times before. He was really good at it. When he put his mouth
over all of my toes, first with one of my feet, then my other foot, and
then both of my feet at the same time, I realized that I was getting very
wet.
In kind of a husky whisper that I had never heard come out of my throat
before, I blurted out, "If you want to keep sucking my toes,
I think that we should go up to my place."
"I'd be happy to," he told me.
Talk about coitus interruptus, this is what I would call "shrimping
interruptus" in the venacular of the foot fetish world.
The next thing I knew, we were in my place. After a bathroom break for
both of us, he in my guest bathroom, and me in my master bathroom, I told
him that he could continue where he left off on the bed in my master
bedroom.
"I just want to take a shower first," I told
him. "Are you good, or would you like one, too."
"That would be great," he told me.
Needless to say, one thing naturally lead to another after he pleasured,
and worshiped my feet until he did the same to the rest of my naked body.
He got me off orally, and with my favorite sex toys a few times before he
fucked me to yet another orgasm. He also fucked my soles, and came all
over them.
That first time with him was back in the 1994. Except when one of us was
in a monogamous relationship with somebody else, and we stopped having sex
with each other, we were friends with benefits on, and off for about nine
years. That finally ended when I got married. Not long after my marriage,
he also got married.
You might think that I would have gotten married to a man with a foot
fetish, but I didn't. Luckily for him, he got married to a woman who fully
embraces his foot fetishism.
This story was submitted
anonymously.
To post your comments about
this story, click/tap
here to this topic in our chat forum.
Note:
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You can also keep your email address hidden from the public as
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