Let's take it from the top! It all started, for me (I guess) when I was in High School. My parents had just moved us from the city to the suburbs. It was there that I made contact with my initial foot-fetish queen. Her name was Daisy Martinez & I'll never forget the day I met her.

A neighbor's son, with whom I was developing a friendship with, decided to take me out & show me around the town. I laid eyes on Daisy as she stood outside the local roller-rink. Her brunette hair was cut short (unusual for a 70's hair style)and her creamy bronze skin seemed to shine in the sun-light. She wore her father's work shirt (tied at the waist) with a halter-top underneath (no bra). Her jeans were tight & form fitting... usually rolled up above the ankles. Daisy hated wearing shoes & spent most of her summers running around barefoot. When she did wear shoes, or footwear, it was usually Dr. Scholl's sandals, Candies or the classic Pro Keds.

This day she was barefoot, with her Dr. Scholl's in her hands. She saw me staring at her & winked at me. Me (with all my teen-age bravado) decided then & there that she needed company... a bogus fact since she was standing there with 7 of her female friends. What we talked about I don't recall but all I remember is that at the end of it she kissed me on the cheek & invited me to have pizza with her at the local hang-out (which was a pizza resturant, & also sold comics & had an old fashioned juke-box - with all the latest tunes).

That night I made it to the the pizzaria & there was Daisy (still dressed in the same jeans but now wearing a ruffled blouse & her Candies). She was a vision of lust. Anyhow, we sat down & ordered a small pie. We talked & discovered that we had a lot in common (like we both enjoyed collecting comics & going to the movies - especially to see horror & Kung-Fu flicks).

After we ate the pie & talked with some of our friends (who were at the resturant with us) we went outside. Daisy jumped up on the hood of her friend's car (loosing one of her shoes in the process). I picked it up & placed it back on her foot. She smiled warmly, & with an impish giggle, she kicked off her other shoe. Again I retrieved & placed it back where it belonged. As I placed the shoe back on her foot, Daisy sighed & told me that I had soft hands. She then asked me if she had nice looking feet. This took me off guard & (just to be nice) I remarked yes.

"Then why aren't you kissing them?" She asked mater-of-factly, seeming to stare right through me. I couldn't answer, I was dumbfounded... & before I realized it I was kissing this girl's feet, right there in the parking lot. That was my initiation into the world of female feet. From that time on Daisy & I were inseperable. When we were lucky enough to be alone together, she loved for me to kiss & tickle her feet while she masturbated. After which she would jack me off (all the while whispering in my ear all the things she wanted to do to me... usually involving her feet).

Sadly, Daisy died towards the end of my sophmore year in High School. She was killed by a hit & run driver that we later learned was a another teen (& classmate). He was angry with Daisy because she refused all his advances... & his parents (it was learned later) belonged to an infamous, racist, organization.

My next encounter took place after I grew up & joined the military. It was now the early 80's, & I was in my early 20's... stationed in North Carolina. In order to have a little fun & make some money, after duty hours, I joined a DJ group... which eventually became a band. We were enormously popular in small & military clubs down south (especially, in North & South Carolina, & Virginia). Most of the music we played was Top 40 tunes, usually found on R&B, Rock & Pop radio stations.

We also attained what is a curse & ego-booster for every band... the dreaded groupies. Anyway, after we started making a name for ourselves (in the club circuit) I discussed certain matters about the band with my supervisor (while at work). I informed him of how tired I was going out with & dating silly, young, girls who considered me a trophy of some kind. I knew that they were only interested in me because I was in band, & for no other reason.

My supervisor listened to me intently, & when I finished, decided to help me out. He set me up with an old flame of his (who was also his wife's best friend in Junior High School). All he informed me about her was that she was once a female body-builder & was in the Army. She was divorced with 2 children (a boy & a girl) & worked as a foreman of a slipper making factory. Her name was Weasey (due to her thick, raspy, southern accent) & she was 38 years of age. (I had just turned 20). He also constantly stated, "Now don't forget to kiss her ankles & lick her heels."

I had no idea of why he was telling me this. I thought he was just kidding around. Soon thereafter, the night of our double/blind date began. We all agreed to meet at a popular seafood resturant (on a rare night my band & I didn't have a gig). I rode up on my motorcycle as the 3 of them stood outside the eating establishment.

I must admit that I was surprised to see my date. I had expected that she was going to be a dog but to my surprise she was gorgeous. She still kept her body-building physique, though she was no longer in training. She wasn't muscle-bound either, belonging to the lightweight division on body-building. Weasey was 5'11", in her pumps & said that she thought it was cute to have a man to look down to. (Even with my imitation Prince demi-boots I was shorter than her. Barefoot I'm 5'9".) Taken aback by the woman's beauty I stammered out an apology. They hadn't been waiting long, they told me. And after a confused introduction & exchanging of names, we entered the restaurant.

Within we dined without incident. Weasey & I exchanged life-stories & discussed our favorite likes & dislikes. All in all we got along quite well. When we left, we ended up at a new nightclub (which had just opened in the area). After discussing some personal & professional matters with the clubs management (which consisted of me working out a deal for me & my band to come & play there) I joined the other 3, already sitting in a booth (near the dance floor).

This time, Weasey & I spent most of our time together dancing & telling each other silly jokes, between drinks. One thing I started to notice, whenever we sat down, Weasey would always dangle one shoe off her toes. I found myself staring at that foot, until she noticed. She leaned over to me & asked, "Do you like my feet?"

This took me by surprise, & retreating into a state of denile I stated that I was mearly checking out the texture of the dance floor. Upon hearing this she gave me a kiss on the cheek, winked, & said, "Well, if you do like my feet, it's cool. Everyone loves my feet." I blushed & did my best to change the subject.

When it became apparent that my blind date & I were doing okay on our own, my supervisor & his wife left. Weasey & I stayed until the club closed. Outside it had started to drizzle & I offered to call her a cab, but she insisted that I give her a ride home on my motorcycle. After failing at trying to change her mind we took off. During our ride the rain started to fall in ernest & developed into a full born thunderstorm.

We arrived at Weasey's home just as the first thunderclap sounded. Drenched to the bone, but in good humor, I escorted her to her front door, where I tried to leave. However, my date insisted that I come in, at least long enough for a cup of coffee & to dry off a bit. Relunctantly I agreed, & before long we both were sitting in her living room drinking delicious cups of coffee.

We didn't talk much, into the TWILIGHT ZONE episode we were watching. I noticed that Weasey was still wearing her pumps & nylons, but was draped in a thick, fleece, bathrobe. When the show was over she asked me what I thought about her. I told her that I liked her & would like to go out with her again. With that she smilled & kissed me, long & passionately. We necked on her sofa until dawn, but when I told her I had to go she asked if I could do her a favor.

I said I would & it was then that she, slowly, sensously, removed her shoes. The smell from her feet seemed to fill the room & I stood transfixed. She opened her robe (after that) & revealed a beautiful naked body. (Even her pussy was wet & throbbing, leaving a stain on her robe.) "Would you, please, smell my feet?" She asked.

As if in a trance (by the smell of her feet & the beauty of her body) I dropped to my knees without a word. I inhaled the aroma deeply as I let her rub her feet across my face. My penis was so hard I thought it would pop (if pricked) as I listened to her sexual fantasies & desires. It seems that she got off on having someone smell her feet (& tell her how smelly, funky & nasty they smelt). The odor was intoxicating & it was then that I recalled the words of my supervisor.

I started to kiss Weasey's ankles & lick her heels & the woman almost had an orgasm. Just as she was about to cum she stopped me. She pulled down my pants & proceeded to give me my first (& best) foot-job (while she masturbated at the same time). We climaxed at the same time & the cum spirted from my member like a water fountain. After licking up all my cum, she removed her nylons & had me smell her feet again, after which we adjourned to her bedroom & made love the rest of the day.

She was wonderful. However, our romance was short lived. After 4 months, she proposed marriage to me but I rejected her. Heartbroken, she ended the relationship. Checking back on her now it seems that she's happily married & has started body-building again, this time as an instructor & personal trainer. The last time we talked she admitted that no one (not even her husband) could kiss her ankles & lick her heels like I could.

The next experience I had came 4 months later. I threw myself into working with the band in order to forget Weasey. We developed dance routines, updated our equipment and created stage personas. I resembled Prince, the bass player mimiced Adam Ant, the keyboardist was a Morris Day lookalike, the drummer resembled Billy Idol, the lead guitarist looked like Bruce Springstien & our DJ looked like a Run/DMC wanna be. I played rhythm guitar & was lead vocalist.

Then finally, one night the inevitable happened. We played hard that night, rocking the roof off the club we were at (which turned out being the same club Weasey & I went to on our first date). My band had become the club's regular house band & we put on a show (I must admit) to rival any professional rock band. No one was sitting, everyone was either dancing, watching us on stage, or standing near the back & rocking to the beat. It was then that I saw her, the only woman sitting in the club. She sat watching me, her legs crossed & her foot tapping the air with the beat we were playing. Though we were sweating, she was in the club with a fur coat on (& it was during the summer).

She called over a dancing waitress & handed her some money & a note, all without taking her eyes off me. Later, after the club closed, the crowd went home & we were breaking down some of our equipment to prepare for Saturday night. The waitress handed me what the mysterious woman gave her. It was a rose with a note attached. The note stated that the woman's name was Starr & that she'd been watching me for a long time. She liked the band & me in particular & offered to buy me breakfast tomorrow after the club closed.

My friends said she was nuts & I'd be nuts to go out with her, but my curiosity was piqued. I had to know who this woman was. So, the next night the puzzle started to come together. The woman was there & we rocked the house, again. She kept sending me notes, to come & sit with her when our set was over & when it was, I happily obliged her. To my surprise this woman knew my name, my zodiac sign, my birthday, the year I was born, how old I was, what my favorite color was, where I was born & how long I had been stationed in North Carolina.

I broke out in a cold sweat & wondered if my friends were right. This woman was a kook, or a high class stalker. However, she smiled, the first time I ever saw her do so & lightly rubbed my hand. She informed me that I needn't worry and that she wasn't going to hurt me. It's just that when she's interested in a guy, she tries to find out as much about him as she can. "That way, they're no surprises." She stated.

As I sipped some of the drink she bought me I looked her over. She was a beautiful full-sized woman with the tips of her hair frosted over. She wore a paisley patterned poncho type outer garment with gold tassles on it. She also wore a lot of jewelry, bracelets & necklaces, but only one ankle bracelet. It was garnished with minature bells & trinkets. On her feet were a pair of gold colored Candies & her toenails were painted with gold colored polish.

Webmaster Note: This part of the story has been written in A Woman's Shoe Store. Also, see below:

Out of all the women I ever dated, Starr will always have a special place in my heart. It was Starr who convinced me not to deny my desire but to accept & enjoy it. We dated for 6 months, & even tried to get married, but our families interfered & destroyed our relationship. After we broke up we still secretly got together for sex twice a month. This affair didn't end until I got out of the service & left the states. Life hasn't been kind to Starr since then. I just discovered that she was shot in the head by her jealous ex-husband who discovered her in bed with one of the male students from her modeling school. Her ex then shot himself. The man died, but Starr didn't. However, the wound caused severe brain damage. She now has the mental ability & behavior of a 10 year old. Her promiscous daughter died of Aids 3 years ago & her son, all grown up, now cares for his mother.

My final foot fetish experience happened 2 years prior to my getting out the military & leaving the country for Europe. It was during a 3 day weekend (either Memorial or Labor Day weekend), & my band & I just played a killer show. During this time I was suffering from a severe case of hay fever & the medicine I took made me extremely groggy. It was a miracle I was able to perform at all.

Webmaster Note: This part of the story has been written in Kidnapped By A Woman.

My final foot fetish encounter happened after I left the service & was studying film-making in Europe (England to be percise). I was living with a cousin, who had been living in England for 15 years. He had a pair of neighbors in our flat, which seemed weird to me. That was until I discovered why. They were two women named Jennifer & Rene. Jennifer was from Britian while her roomate, Rene was from France. They lived in the flat next to my cousins & I always heard strange noises coming from it at night. Everyone in the building thought they were a lesbian couple & so did I, though I never saw any proof of this.

Then one day a surprising event took place. While my cousin went out to work, he asked me to borrow a plunger from Jennifer & Rene. One of our toilets was backed up. I knocked on the door of the two women's flat & to my surprise the door slowly creaked open. I heard a strange sound coming from inside the flat & curiosity got the better of me.

I tip-toed in. Another surprised awaited me as I turned a corner & discovered where the sound was coming from. It seems that Jennifer & Rene were sitting on the floor, facing each other, with their ankles tied loosely together. They were tickling each others feet. The women were surprised to see me but not too much shaken up. After a clumsy but pleasant introduction, they gave me what I came there for & I left them to their fun.

Several days later, after my cousin left for work, the two women stopped by to talk to me as well as to share a cup of tea. They informed me that they weren't lesbians but just women who got off on having their feet tickled. As a matter of fact, they couldn't have an orgasm without having their feet tickled. No boyfriend, to date, seemed to accept or understand that. So, whenever they were between dates, & were horny, they volunteered to tickle each other's feet. When they got horny enough, they would excuse themselves to a private place & masturbate. Afterwhich they would feel better & more in control.

They confessed that they both liked me & wanted to know if I was interested in providing them with tickles when they needed it. At first I hesitated but after having my ego-stroked by these two lovely ladies, I gave into their request. Soon, every other night &/or after class, I was over Jennifer & Rene's flat, tickling their feet.

Eventually this lead to a romance between Rene & me. Rene was quite a photographer & took many photos of the 3 of us in various foot fetish poses. Her favorite photo was of my penis, ejaculating between Jennifer's two feet, with Rene's lips drinking my cum like at a water fountain.

To this day, Jennifer, Rene & I remain good friends. Rene has got a job editing music videos in Europe, hoping to open up a position for me sometime soon. Jennifer is now a Muslim & lives in Jordan with her husband. She works as a weather reporter over there.

That's it in a nutshell. My entire foot fetish experience. Whomever reads this I hope enjoys them as well as I did. And here's to hoping that there's more experiences to come, or should I say cum, in the near future. So keep those feet sweaty, keep those toes pointed & those soles wrinkled, because, ladies, we love those feet. If you've got any foot/tickle fetish experiences you'd like to share with me, or if you'd like for me to e-mail you a foot-fetish script I just completed, please e-mail me. Webmaster NOTE: The author's e-mail does not appear to be working. The e-mail link has been deleted. Sorry.

I'd love to hear from you. Chow!