I had already turned in. Seth wouldn't be in until late. "Bring your feet," I'd told him.
That always boned him. As much as he was in love with me, he was deeply in love with his own feet, and I didn't blame him. I was in love with them, too.
"I want them unshod," I'd told him.
He like the word, "unshod." It's a word that you'd associate with a horse that doesn't have horseshoes. Actually, it means shoeless for people, too, but Seth liked the horsey aspect of the word unshod; it would be like he had four legs with four feet unshod. Don't ask me why, but it just boned him to think of his feet that way. Me too, for that matter. The world would be a better place if guys as handsomely footed as Seth could have four of them. Or more.
You're getting a little of the stuff we would say to each other that would turn us on, but it worked for us every time. Sex was great with Seth and me, and we could never tire of that line of thinking, of Seth with four or more of his beautiful feet.
They really were beautiful, too. They were the kind of feet you see sometimes on a handsome young guy who peacefully ambles by, barefoot or in sandals or beachwalkers, and out of view, and a wave kind of goes over you, and you feel that spontaneous reaction to their beauty, their beautiful form in motion. How would you flag down someone with feet like that? I like your feet? Wow, what's your name, you have really handsome feet? Can I borrow your feet?
I'd experienced a thunderclap of good luck with Seth, who had long been in love with his own feet, and was delighted to find me in love with them, too. I'd fallen in love with them the first day I saw them, his feet beautiful in flipflops, casual as the rest of him, and so handsome.
It totally boned him because he got off on my reaction to his feet. We definitely bonded over them. From then on, they were always there for me, beautiful by themselves, or in sandals or beachwalkers.
And from then on it was our joke, when were were going to get together, that I'd always add, "and bring your feet."
And when we did get together, they were always mine. Into my lap went his beautiful feet, like a couple of sleek, friendly animals that wanted to be held and petted. How cool of him, I always thought.
His handsome face was transformed with arousal and enjoyment when he watched his beautiful feet in my lap, and they really were like a couple of beautiful, sensual creatures, alive and gorgeous, smooth, warm and sleek, loving to be touched and held, loving to touch each other, so beautiful in any position.
They were probably a help towards us spending so much time together, because consciously or unconsciously, we always worked it out so that we were more or less gathered around Seth's beautiful, smooth feet. It was a plus that we liked each other so much for ourselves and that we both had in common this amazing attraction for those two beautiful feet of Seth's.
I made him laugh once, just by grabbing and nuzzling them, loving the feel of them against me, so warm and tantalizingly handsome. Both our faces reflected our shared amazement with them, and I ad-libbed, "the only way your feet could be any nicer would be if you had more of them."
Well, Seth nearly creamed. He pressed his beautiful feet against me and rolled his head back, eyes closed with the pleasure of the thought. "Oh, I would love that," he said, barely audible.
I was pretty flushed myself, turned on that Seth would be so aroused by the idea. I was amazed at how wordlessly we acted on it, because before we knew it I was creaming all over the soles and toes of his feet as I held them as they gently surrounded my ejaculating hardon, which made him cream all over himself and most of the wall and ceiling behind him.
In fact, I could cream just thinking about him like that, thinking of him loving the idea of his beautiful feet stepping all over themselves, loving the idea of him laughing with pleasure at having so many of his beautiful feet, of him being glad to have so many feet for me.
And that's why he'd been so boned when he left that night, saying he wouldn't be in til late, loving me wanting him to bring his feet.
And bring his feet he did, I found when he came in. It was indeed late. I'd been dreaming of him, laughing and awash in feet, dozens of them, hopelessly beautiful, embarrassed to have so many of them yet loving that I was aroused by them, and they were physically gentle, pressing on everything as he tried to come through the door, too many of them to fit through. I awoke with a raging boner, still hearing them scuffing at the front door, helpless to open it.
I lay there, the dream evaporating, but seeming to still hear the press of dozens of his gentle feet against the wood surface of the door, flesh against wood, gentle, long soles, their pads and toes pressed against the wood of the door, putting gentle pressure on it, scuffing it with their dozens of smooth soles.
It was funny; I didn't want the dream to be over, but I knew it was; but I felt like it wasn't. I was out of bed, naked, including my very naked boner, bobbing and waving and huge as I found my way to the door, which felt pressed against its frame when I tried to open it. I shook the handle a bit, and the pressure seemed to ease, and I pulled the door open slowly, just a little.
Funny, I looked down, and he'd put his foot in the door. A beautiful, naked foot, unaware of its own beauty, just a beautiful male Seth-foot, its handsome ankle reaching through the door, delivering the beautiful foot.
Boy did he ever bring his feet! They were so beautiful! More and more of them spilled through the door, almost forcing it open as dozens of them slid through, multiple long Seth-legs sliding against each other as the door gave way, wave after wave of handsome, gentle Seth-feet spilling over each other as they tried to enter, held back only by dozens more of his beautiful feet that clumsily jammed up against each other as some of them caught on the doorjambs.
I found myself trying to gently un-jam several of them, only gradually realizing how awesome it felt to be handling so many new feet, new multiples of the most beautiful feet I had ever known, each one of them so long and sleek and beautiful to look at, but this time piled helplessly against each other. Others, suddenly freed when I gently got them past the doorjambs, spilled forward again, bouncing gently against my arms, shoulders and chest, a plethora of them, so warm and gentle, each one as sweet and beautiful as Seth himself.
It dawned on me, dazed as I was, that of course they would be sweet as Seth himself, because they really were Seth, just as much an extension of him as his original two feet, and just as beautiful, plus the intensity of there being so amazingly many of them now.
Truth be told, it was a little hard to process the visual reality of so many of these sleek, masculine, gentle Seth-feet now spilling into my place, many of them comfortably pressing against me as more and more of them figured out how to get past the doorjambs, and I was able to sort of slowly back myself into the room as more and more of this friendly, beautiful tide of sleek Seth-legs and Seth-feet poured themselves against me and began filling the room as they squeezed and slid against each other while passing through the doorway, then spread out as they poured into the room.
It was just like my dream. From outside the door, from beyond the warm, sliding, mountainous mass of awesomely handsome legs and feet still sliding and squeezing themselves through the doorway, I could hear Seth laughing, and he was definitely awash in feet, dozens upon dozens of them, all of them hopelessly beautiful.
“Is that you, Seth?” I joked, but half-seriously, worried that I might still be dreaming all this and a little scared that the dream seemed so real, if it was a dream.
As if in reply, dozens of the beautiful Seth-feet suddenly surrounded and gently squeezed me, legs upon legs extending themselves to warmly embrace me, delivering their beautiful feet to touch me and caress me, as still more Seth-legs spilled through the doorway.
I realized I was being gently carried along, enfolded in the handsome swell of dozens of long-muscled Seth-legs.
I had to kiss one of the handsome Seth-feet that had gently planted itself on my shoulder, so wonderful to kiss Seth this way, and I instinctively kissed all of its brother feet as well, those that I could reach with my lips, and my hands, buried among the plethora of warm Seth-legs and feet that cradled me, found feet and legs to squeeze affectionately, as they all squeezed me back, so gently and beautifully. I felt so warm and turned on, almost swooning from their beauty and multitude.It was definitely Seth.
“Yeah, it's me!” he laughed. I don't know why I was surprised, but I was. His voice came from on top of the pouring tide of legs still flooding into the room. I looked up from my feast of beautiful Seth-feet, and there he was, pulling himself through the doorway by grabbing the top of the doorjamb and ducking his head as he passed under it, his handsome torso riding almost centaur-like over the mountain of teeming, beautiful tide of his legs and feet.
And just like in my dream, I could tell he was embarrassed to have so many of them, but he was definitely loving that I was aroused by them. Just like in my dream, they were physically gentle, pressing on everything as he tried to come through the door, too many of them to fit through.
I didn't wait for him to get all of his mountain of legs and feet all the way into the room, and I was gently released by those that had embraced me, as they seemed to sense that I needed to kiss Seth himself now, which I did.
How I got to him so fast I don't know, but every one of his legs and feet anywhere near me seemed to create a warm, beautiful tide around me that delivered me right to his arms, and as we embraced, I felt the direction change again as we both were carried further into the room. I was lost in his kiss, yet I heard the door close behind him, gently pushed closed by the last dozen or so of his feet and legs that finally came inside.
It was amazing to feel so surrounded and caressed by Seth, even as I held him and he held me, my lips buried in his, both of us relaxed and comfortable as we lay together, splayed upon this comfortable, warm mountain of his beautiful legs, his beautiful feet, as they seemed to enjoy the feeling of being piled all over themselves, so intensely comfortable in their massive leg-to-leg contact, long muscle against long muscle, feet tumbled against feet.
When we finished kissing, I smiled and pulled a few of his nearby feet to my lips and kissed them, loving the way they lazily dangled from their ankles. I massaged them a little, one by one, and Seth smiled at the pleasure of it.
I took one of them by the ankle and smoothed my other hand along its handsome arch, and gave its heel a squeeze.
“How nice,” I smiled, holding the foot for Seth to see, as if I was showing him something he'd never seen before.
“And this one, and this one,” I smiled, displaying one foot after another for him.
He was liking this, and we were both getting turned on again.
“I like them,” I said, and he smiled. I could feel a gentle squeeze all over my body, as his long-muscled legs all around and over and under me did their sort of leg-hug against me, as dozens of his beautiful feet seen and unseen smoothed themselves affectionately against me.
“And you brought them unshod,” I smiled.
Suddenly he was furiously kissing me again, his lips buried in mine, his arms embracing me as his legs did likewise all around me, and the warm tang of come filled the air in the leg-filled room, as our penises pulsed against each other. I felt our hot come in jolts, jetting hotly between our pressed-together abdomens as we embraced each other, coming and coming.
I realized I felt hot semen all over me as well, as all of the penises between all of his legs came, and I realized that I was hearing spattering sounds throughout the room as random penises throughout the mountain of Seth-legs shot their come everywhere, soaking the mountain of aroused legs, glazing the beautiful Seth-feet.
“Ohhhhh,” Seth moaned, as soon as he could catch his breath. “I love it when you say that.”