Mom-A hard act to follow
      Submitted on 06/03/05


I have had a fascination for feet since my earliest memory and I attribute 
that to my Mom.  She is little more than five feet tall and 100 lbs. and 
possesses feet that are normally dry and a bit scaly but they are always 
meticulously manicured.  She has somewhat small feet but long slender toes 
with nails that are almost always painted.  Mom has never liked wearing 
shoes-she says they hurt her feet.

 As little kids, my brother and I occasionally had competitions with Mom to 
see who could do the most with their feet, including writing, eating with a 
fork or spoon, eating a sandwich or a cob of corn.  After one of our 
competitions, she once brought a big bowl of grapes into the den and fed 
them to herself, my brother and me using her feet.  Instead of pinching them 
between her toes, she grasped them under her toes.  To feed us the grapes, 
she brought her foot to our faces, sideways, covering our mouths and noses. 
My brother didn't really care for grapes, tired of the game and left.  When 
there were two grapes left, she told me that they were both mine but that I 
would have to work for them.  I said, "how is that?"  She replied, "I'm 
going to keep them and you will have to get them".  With that, she placed 
her foot into the bowl and pulled out her fisted foot wrapped around a grape 
and presented it to me.  I put my lips to her sole and tried to reach the 
grape with my teeth but that would not work.  I extended my tongue and tried 
to roll it out by digging under the grape against the underside of her toes. 
She giggled but did not release her grip.  Finally, I made an attempt by 
pressing my face into her foot really hard, hoping that I could get closer 
to the grape.  She responded by pushing back.  I couldn't get it so she gave 
it to me.  She said, "I will make it easier for you."  She picked up the 
last grape under her pinky toe and fourth toe.  I tried the same tactics 
without success until it occurred to me that if I started from the top and 
worked through her toes, I could win.  She did not consider my move as her 
face showed surprise while grinning-she approved.  Starting from the top of 
her foot, I drove my tongue between her pinky toe and fourth toe, pushing 
the grape out and then covered her toes with my upper lip to catch the grape 
when it dislodged.  It worked very well.  We only did that on that one 
occasion.


Once when I was six, I bet her that she couldn't undress me for my bath with 
her feet.  She quickly took the challenge on a handshake.  She sat on the 
edge of my bed with her feet slipped out of her sandals and wiggling her 
toes inches from my face in good-natured defiance while I stood in front of 
her.  She told me to sit on the floor with my feet up.  To untie my 
sneakers, she tugged on the free ends of the laces with her toes.  She then 
wrapped the toes of both feet around each of my sneakers, easily yanking 
them off.  She pinched my socks at the end of my toes between her toes and 
pulled them off just as easily.  Next, she told me to stand up and proceeded 
to untie and unlace my belt with no trouble.  She unsnapped my jeans and 
pulled down my zipper by pinching the zipper-pull between her toes like 
fingers.  If I was blind, I would swear that she was using her hands.  She 
dropped my pants and then noticed that my peepee was stuck in the pee 
channel of my briefs.  I was going to fix it but she kicked my hand away and 
said, "I've got it."  In her attempt to pinch the fabric of the briefs 
between her toes, she pushed her toes against the fabric and my penis and 
then gently pinched only the fabric, pulling open the channel.  I remember 
being very impressed that she was immediately successful and without 
pinching me.  Then using the other foot, she raised all four of the smaller 
toes, separating the big toe and then used her big toe to push my penis back 
out of the channel.  To be honest, feeling her toe on me felt pretty great. 
She smiled and said, "Pretty good, hunh?"  I agreed.  She hooked her big 
toes into the bottoms of my briefs on each leg, pinched the fabric of the 
briefs and yanked down.  Last, my pullover shirt had a button at the collar 
that I had uncharacteristically buttoned.  She knew.  She laughed and raised 
her feet to my collar-I could smell the incredible aroma from those splayed 
toes.  Instead of grabbing my collar, she quickly lifted her toes to my 
face, covering my nose and mouth while hooking the other foot behind my head 
to seize me between her feet.  She put her hands out on the bed to stabilize 
herself and then proceeded to slowly and gently shake my head from side to 
side while laughingly saying, "You little stinker."  Then she brought a foot 
to each cheek, grabbing foot-fistfulls of my face and said, "But you're so 
cute!"  I remember how powerful her feet were and I remember how excited I 
was to smell her feet up so close.  She toe-fumbled with the collar button 
for about forty seconds before it came undone.  Then she grabbed the sleeves 
while I pulled my arms down and out.  To get my shirt off over my head, she 
ran her feet under my shirt and up until her toes peeked out of the collar 
and walked her toes up my face on either side until my shirt fell to the 
floor.  She confidently smiled and clamped the soles of her feet to the 
sides of my face saying, "You know better than to bet with me on something 
like this."


Her feet were always by far, the most talented-she has a gift.  Although she 
didn't like shoes, she did like to keep her feet clean and would always wear 
sandals.  When she sat down to watch TV or knit, she would slip the sandals 
off and put her feet up on a footstool.  Also when I played on the floor, I 
was always eye-level to them and my face would regularly bump into her feet 
which never moved away, she only just smiled.  She knew me.


When I wrestled with my Dad, he could always pin me without too much 
trouble.  When I was about eight years old, my Mom was finding it 
increasingly difficult to win when we wrestled so she started cheating and 
using her feet-it was like she had four arms and hands and it wasn't fair. 
Her legs and feet were much stronger than I was and she figured out pretty 
quickly that covering my eyes with her toes or hooking her toes under my 
nose and pushing upward put me in a pretty compromising position and I more 
or less gave up.  I once came very close to pinning her when she weaseled 
her foot in between us and in an uncharacteristically aggressive move, as my 
mouth was open and counting my pin, she pressed her big toe very forcefully 
into my mouth and locked her toes to my cheek and pushed my face away.  I 
wondered if I was hurting her because her feet were abnormally aggressive. 
As she pinned my head to the floor with that foot, she brought the other 
foot around, wrapping the toes of the other foot over my nose, removing her 
toe from my mouth and using that foot to completely wrap across my face over 
my mouth.  She then arched her body to put as much of her body weight on my 
face as she could, proclaiming her victory.  I could breath only through my 
nose over the top of her big toe.  She kept me in that position for what 
seemed like about fifteen seconds before clamping her toes tightly over my 
nose, cutting off my breathing altogether as she immediately lifted her foot 
that was across my mouth and asked me, "Who won?"  I said, "That wasn't fair 
because" she clamped her toes over my mouth for a moment because I couldn't 
breathe and asked again to which I replied, "You won fair and square."  With 
her toes still firmly clamped over my nose, she gently tapped my cheek with 
the toes of the other foot and rubbed for a moment.  Then she let me go. 
She never wrestled with me anymore.  When I apologized for hurting her, she 
said that I didn't hurt her.  I guess I only made her mad.


On another occasion, I was eating a soft pretzel with mustard, lying on the 
floor while watching TV and my head was inches from her feet.  She looked 
down and noticed mustard on the corner of my mouth.  Without a thought she 
said, "Oh Honey, Look-you have mustard on your mouth" and immediately lifted 
a foot to my face and wiped the mustard with her big toe.  Then it occurred 
to her that she had mustard on her toe and she froze for a moment, to 
consider what to do next.  I didn't want to waste the moment so I sucked her 
toe into my mouth and worked my tongue against the bottom of her big toe. 
She smiled and said, "What are you doing?"  I stopped long enough to laugh 
and say, "getting the mustard off your foot."  She giggled and responded, 
"okay" and left her foot there for me.  While I was working the mustard off 
that toe, I was thinking how wonderfully potent the taste of her toe was and 
decided that I wanted the others too.  I moved to the second toe and said, 
"Oh look-you have mustard there too!"  She inquired, "is that right?"  I 
sucked that toe clean and tried it again for the third toe to which she 
smiled and stated, "okay, here you go (offering me her other foot too) but 
just this once."  I continued to lick and suck for about ten minutes before 
she pulled them away.


I could bump into her feet incidentally at any time without notice but as I 
got older, the foot games stopped.  My last encounter with Mom's feet was 
when I was about thirteen.  For a few years, Mom and Dad had a routine of 
drinking martinis after dinner during the week.  After a couple, Dad would 
pass out in the study and Mom would pass out on her easy chair in the den. 
I had tried many times in the past to wake them for various reasons and 
found that it largely took an act of congress to wake them.  One evening I 
summoned the courage to dress in gym trunks and got to the den to watch TV 
with her sleeping in her chair-my intention was to have those feet one more 
time.  Her heavy breathing indicated deep sleep so it was now or never.  I 
made a reasonable attempt to wake her without success-good.  I sucked and 
lapped at those feet for about 15 minutes.  About the time I started sucking 
on the second foot, just as my lips touched her toes, they fisted, trapping 
my lower lip in her grip.  I looked up and she still appeared to be 
sleeping.  Within seconds, she let go.  Whew-good.  Next, I pulled my gym 
trunks up on one leg and revealed myself.  By pulling out through a leg 
instead of over the top,  I could put myself away much faster if caught.  I 
started to rub myself between her soles.  Then I turned her feet together 
and pumped between her toes.  I thought about that vice-like grip of hers 
and put the head of my dick into the space under the toes of one foot, 
gently rubbing and imagining that she would grip my dick.  Suddenly, the 
lifeless foot fisted-her toes completely wrapped around and covering the 
head of my penis.  I tried to pull away in reflex but she had such a tight 
grasp on me that it hurt when I pulled.  I looked at her face and it 
appeared that she was still asleep but her breathing was now shallow-Damn, 
she knows!  Her gripping toes imprisoned me for about five minutes (but Wow, 
did it seem longer!) as I wondered what would happen next.  I knew she had 
to be awake but if she let go and pretended to stay asleep, neither of us 
would need to mention a word.  If Dad walked in, then what?  I think her aim 
was to teach me a lesson and to show me that I would be helplessly caught. 
She could wake up right now and casually ask me, "What are you doing?" while 
we both take our time to study her fisted toes locked to the end of my 
hard-on and then I might fabricate some elaborate and lame excuse.  No, if 
she ever lets go, I have learned my lesson.  Remaining "asleep", she did let 
me go and neither of us ever said a word about it.

I know that my fetish to be dominated by strong and dexterous feet are a 
direct result of her talent and our encounters.


From your fellow foot fetisher, Toesuckr