There’s this little sushi bar I like down near the
docks. The old guy that runs the place,
Mr Kawachi, is a bit of a traditionalist and has a strict rule that no outside
footwear is allowed in the main area, so off the foyer there’s a little area
for people to take off their shoes and a set of cubby holes to put them
in. Being where it is a good proportion
of his customers are dock workers and that means there are always a good number
of pairs of boots sitting in the storage area.
As you might imagine this is part of the reason I like the place. Don’t get me wrong, the sushi is very good,
or I wouldn’t go as often as I do, but it helps that the first course is such a
feast! I always take my time taking my
own boots off to savour the view, and if I can have a good sniff of some of the
best pairs while I’m putting mine in their cubby. I’ve been going there long enough now that I
recognise the boots of a lot of the other regulars.
One night a few months ago I headed there after work as I
often do, and I spotted a pair of boots I didn’t recognise. And what a pair they were. A huge, heavy pair of logger boots, well
creased and a little dusty. Not trashed
by any means, but obviously well used and broken in. I got a closer look at them when I put mine
away, and a good whiff too, size 15 and not overpowering, just the right mix of
leather and a hint of sweat. I could
still feel the warmth rising out of them, so the owner couldn’t have been there
long.
Reluctantly I left those incredibly hot boots behind and
went in, taking a seat at the bar. I
ordered my usual and while I was waiting a guy sat down next to me. I glanced over and saw that there was a drink
there already, probably he was just coming back from the bathroom. He was a really big guy, the stool creaked as
he sat down and even sitting he was a good few inches taller than me. I took a peak down at his feet and they were
equally large with thick work socks. I
was just wondering whether he was my mystery guy with the super-hot boots when
he introduced himself as Jeff.
We got talking and I found out that he was fairly new in
town working in construction. Whenever
he looked away I took the opportunity to get a good eyeful because, wow, he was
hot. Like I said he was a big guy and
almost all of it was muscle, I could see his biceps bulging under his shirt and
his hands looked like he could probably crack a coconut just by squeezing
it. To top it off his face was just
unbearably cute, slightly boyish with short, dirty blonde hair and a well-trimmed
beard.
We stopped chatting when our food came, but part way through
I felt something touch my foot. I looked
down and saw that Jeff had put his foot on mine. I didn’t say anything and went back to eating
my sushi, but then he started gently stroking my foot with that giant stomper
of his. I glanced over at him, but he
was still tucking into his food, apparently not paying any attention to what
his foot was doing so I couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or
not. I tried to do the same and go back
to my food, but the feeling of his big foot gently rubbing against mine in
those thick soft work socks was maddeningly arousing and I couldn’t focus on
anything else. He kept it up for at
least 5 minutes before stopping and moving his foot back to rest on his own
stool. I took a few minutes to collect
myself and take a few bites of sushi and then tentatively I moved my foot over
and started stroking his. At first he
didn’t react, but then I saw a smile start to spread across his face.
I was so focussed on Jeff that I totally forgot about my
sushi until Mr Kawachi came over and asked if it was alright. I felt bad for making Mr Kawachi think his
sushi wasn’t up to scratch, and I realised maybe the flirting, or whatever it
is we were doing, was becoming a bit too obvious so reluctantly I pulled my
foot away from Jeff’s and went back to my food.
It was quiet again for a bit as we both just focussed on
eating. Jeff finished first and after
sitting there for a bit he turns to me and says, ‘has anyone told you you’re
really hot?’ It caught me completely off
guard, I mean I work out and think I look alright, but this guy looks like a
demigod and he tells me I’m hot? Of course, he also managed to do it just as
I’d put a piece of sushi in my mouth and in my surprise I inhaled some of the
soy sauce. Let me tell you, my lungs do
not agree with having soy sauce in them, so I just start coughing and
spluttering. Jeff looked alarmed like
he’d accidentally killed me or something, and I guess it was his fault, so put
his big hand on my back to try and help.
Mr Kawachi meanwhile I spotted was just glaring at me with an expression
that said something like, ‘are you trying to get the health inspectors called
on me?’
Once he was confident I wasn’t dying of soy sauce inhalation
Jeff made a smart-aleck remark about me maybe not being quite so hot when my
face was all red. I still wasn’t quite
up to responding verbally so I just punched him in the arm, but him joking
about it did make me feel a bit better.
Eventually the coughing died down, I dried my eyes, and had
some water. I wasn’t really feeling like
eating the last few bits of sushi though, so we just asked Mr Kawachi for the
bill. While we were waiting for him to
add it up and get back to us, Jeff leaned over and asked if I’d come back to
his place so he could make it up to me.
He gave me the cutest puppy-dog smile and that damn foot of his was
back, stroking mine. I don’t know
whether it was because I was so turned on, but whatever the reason rather than
saying ‘yes’ I asked if the big logger boots in the shoe area were his. To his credit, Jeff was only momentarily
phased by the sharp left-turn in the conversation. He grinned and asked if I’d still come back
with him if he said no. I might have
been a little disappointed if he’d said no, but it wouldn’t really have changed
my mind. Evidently some part of my brain
was still determined to be contrarian though, because even as most of me was
screaming ‘yes!’ what came out of my mouth was ‘maybe’. Fortunately, Jeff had a good sense of humour,
or maybe he was just used to have this effect on guys, because he just laughed
and said it was a good thing they were his boots then.
Mr Kawachi came back with the bill so we paid and then
wandered out to the foyer area. I
grabbed my boots from their cubby hole, but Jeff paused for a moment by a
different set of shoes before going over and taking the big loggers. I’m sure he did it just to mess with me, but
that was probably fair. I started
putting my boots on, but as you can probably guess I couldn’t help looking up
when I heard Jeff sit down and set his boots on the floor. A lot of guys just shove their feet in their
shoes and don’t bother tying them when they leave, but not Jeff. He put his boots between his feet and took
his time wiggling his toes and adjusting his socks, then he carefully slipped
his feet one at a time into his boots and knocked his heel back with a
thud. I’m sure he knew exactly what he
was doing because I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he methodically adjusted
the laces and tied them tight. When he
finished and started to stand up I realised I’d been so absorbed that I hadn’t
finished tying my own boots, so I had to do that hurriedly while he smiled at
me indulgently.
It seemed like I was taking every possible opportunity to
embarrass myself, because in my hurry to get my boots done up and go I hadn’t
noticed that Jeff had moved to stand right next to me. Quite how I managed that I’m not sure because
he is pretty hard to miss. Anyway,
somehow I did and so when I got up and turned around I walked straight into him. Walking into Jeff was pretty much like
walking into a brick wall and he had to grab my shoulders to stop me bouncing
off and falling over.
So there we were, standing literally toe-to-toe, Jeff
holding my shoulders, and he looks down into my eyes and says, ‘so, you really
like my boots, huh?’. All I could do was
stammer out a yes. Then he looks down at
our feet and says that my boots are nice too and comments on them being small
and cute. I wasn’t quite sure whether to
be flattered or insulted. It was nice
that he liked my boots too, and in fairness they are a lot smaller than his,
but my feet aren’t that small, size 10 is a perfectly acceptable men’s
size. Before I could think of anything
to say in response though he had already turned and started to head for the
door and I had to hurry after him.
It wasn’t a long drive back to Jeff’s place, but I was extremely
glad he had his car with him. Usually I
just took the bus but sitting opposite Jeff on the bus all the way back to his
place would have been maddening. I think
I’d been expecting him to have a giant truck or maybe a muscle car, something
like that, so I was slightly surprised when he stopped next to a very ordinary
small car. It wasn’t so small as to be
comical compared with his bulk, just sensible and forgettable.
When we got to Jeff’s apartment I stopped just inside the
door and bent down to take off my boots, but Jeff beckoned me into the living
room and asked if I’d like to help him take his boots off. I’d like to say I didn’t go running, but that
would be a lie. At least Jeff just
smirked a little and didn’t say anything as I pretty much did a rock-and-roll
slide onto my knees at his feet. He held
out his left foot for me, I took it and nestled that huge, heavy boot in my
crotch as I started to untie the laces.
As I carefully loosened the laces Jeff pressed his boot forward into my
crotch. I shuffled back a little when it
tipped past the point of feeling good into being a bit uncomfortable and Jeff
held it there right at that sweet spot.
It’s hard to describe just how good it felt.
When I was done, I lifted his foot up to slip
the boot off and set it to one side. I
gave his foot a little massage and then set it down and settled his right boot
in my crotch, my rock-hard cock straining against my jeans and the sole of his
boot. Too soon I was done untying his
right boot and slipping it off to sit beside his left one. I held onto his foot and massaged it like I
had the other one, but as I was doing so he slipped his left foot between my
legs and started massaging my crotch. It
felt so good I didn’t notice until it was almost too late how close I was to
shooting. I panicked and tried to stop
Jeff, but he kept on massaging my busy balls as I shot my load in my jeans.
I was kind of embarrassed, but when I looked up at Jeff, he
was just grinning at me. He sat back on
the sofa and asked if it had been good.
‘Good’ was an understatement, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt
like that and said as much, which just made his grin even broader.
We sat there for a few moments before he pushed himself off
the sofa and beckoned me to switch places with him so he could get my boots off
for me, ‘the least he could do’, as he said.
He knelt down in front of me and just as he’d done for me I planted my
left boot in his crotch and pressed down just like he had. Evidently I couldn’t press hard enough to
bother him though, so I just settled for what was comfortable for me. He started carefully untying the laces and
I’ve got to say, the sight of that big hunk kneeling at my feet, my boot in his
crotch was so hot I started getting hard all over again.
He slipped my boot off and set it the side next to his and
started giving my foot a little massage.
The feeling of those strong fingers working over my foot was absolutely
heavenly and it seemed far too soon when he stopped and put my other foot in
his crotch to untie that boot.
I settled my right boot into his crotch and he started to
untie the laces, but just sort of trailed off and stared into space. I waited a few moments and when he still
hadn’t got back to it, I pulled my foot back and gave his junk a nudge with the
toe of my boot. He didn’t really react,
so I nudged him harder. This time he
smiled a bit, which I hadn’t been expecting, so I asked if he liked it. He nodded so I did it a bit harder, more of a
proper kick this time and asked if he liked that too, which he said he did.
I was enjoying it too, more than I would have expected, but
I didn’t want to accidentally take things too far, so I took a step back and
asked how much he could take. He just
stuck his hands under his ass, gave me one of his huge, disarming grins, and
said, ‘let’s find out’.
So, that’s just what we did.
I pulled my boot back and gave him a proper kick in the nuts. Not as hard as I could by any means, but a
proper kick nonetheless and my boots are pretty tough and heavy even if they
are a lot smaller than his. I could see
the toe sink into the bulge in his jeans.
He let out a little ‘oof’ noise and encouraged me to keep going.
I continued kicking him, a little harder each time. Having a big, cute guy on his knees at my
mercy was more of a turn on than I’d realised, and I could feel my cock
straining against my jeans again. Soon
enough I was getting really into it and didn’t need any encouragement from Jeff
at all. Jeff was clearly enjoying it
too. Each time I kicked him his jeans
bunched up a little more until the outline of his junk was unmistakeable
through the denim and made it pretty obvious just how much he was enjoying it.
As I continued to ramp up the strength of my kicks I eventually
managed to reach the limits of what Jeff could take, though by that point I was
nearly punting his nuts like I would a soccer ball. It was actually a bit uncomfortable for me to
sustain that intensity for long, so I was quite happy to drop it back down a
little. I did feel a certain triumph at
having proven I could dish out more than he could take if I wanted to though.
We continued like that for a while, and I could tell Jeff
was getting close to shooting his load.
He tried to signal that he wanted to stop, or at least I assumed that
was what he was doing, it wasn’t easy for him to signal anything with his hands
under his ass and he was grunting and groaning too much to say a great
deal. I didn’t feel quite ready to stop
though, especially not when he hadn’t paid attention to me earlier, and I was
really getting into the dominant role so I told him we weren’t stopping until
either I wanted to or I kicked the cum out of those big, heavy nuts of his. That evidently turned him on even more because
it only took a couple more kicks before I saw a big shudder run through him
that told me he’d shot his load. I gave
him one final kick, a little harder, and said now we could stop.
I sat back down on the sofa and both of us took a few
moments to get our breath back. Kicking
Jeff in the nuts had been a surprisingly good workout.
I looked down again when I felt Jeff’s big hands taking hold
of my foot softly. He locked eyes with
me and paused, so I gave him a nod to continue and he gently took my remaining
boot off and set it by the others. After
that we sat in contented silence for a few minutes, before Jeff stirred and
said we should probably get cleaned up.
I had kind of forgotten about the mess in my jeans until then, but now
that he had reminded me I felt really sticky and gross. He showed me to the guest bathroom and
offered put my dirty clothes in the wash for me if I dropped them outside the
door.
I stepped inside and gratefully stripped out of my gunky
jeans and underwear. I heard Jeff pad
off down the corridor to his bathroom and dropped my things outside the door,
then stepped into the shower. I stayed
in there for quite a while, just letting the warm water cascade over me. Trying to sort through everything in my head,
and convince myself that it had really happened, that Jeff would be there when
I left the bathroom.
When I finally did step out again, I found that Jeff had
left a pair of shorts and a t-shirt out for me.
They were massively oversized, as you’d expect, but it felt a bit better
than just wandering around in a towel, so I slipped them on and tied the
drawstring tight.
I could hear noises coming from the kitchen area, and sure
enough when I walked back into the living room Jeff was busy with something. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I just sat
down on the sofa and watched his back as he moved around the kitchen. Inevitably my wandering foot found our boots
sitting next to the sofa. I ran my foot
over the toe of his boot and then slipped it inside, disappearing into that
cavernous space, feeling the indentations left by his toes as I moved my foot
around.
Finally, Jeff turned around and walked over to the sofa
carrying two teacups, smiling at me. It
was slightly incongruous, this huge guy carrying a couple of rather dainty looking
teacups sitting on saucers. He was
wearing the same style of t-shirt he’d left out for me, but whereas the one I
was wearing hung off me like I was a famine victim, his clung to his massive
pectoral muscles. When he joked about
having been worried I’d dissolved in the shower it tipped me over and I
couldn’t help bursting out laughing as I took the cup he offered me.
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