Date: Sat, 4 Mar 2006 16:04:53 -0500 (EST)
From: GSK <hot4bm@yahoo.ca>
Subject: Foot Face Fucker - Chapter Two

Foot Face-Fucker - Chapter 2

by GSK
hot4bm@yahoo.ca

The summer stayed hot. Mel's Service Garage across the street finally shut
down and the two old owners retired. While they waited for the bidding war
on their property to reach the maximum price, they kept Ken on to do
occasional work for their oldest regular customers. This was fine with me,
because it meant we kept having play sessions, mostly in the garage.

I was feeling horny before he called me that Friday. It had been a lazy day
off hanging around the house, sweltering in its pathetic air
conditioning. By mid-afternoon I was restless. I was overjoyed to hear his
voice but I kept my cool. It sounded like he was at his other job - I could
hear male voices in the background. He said, "I'll be at the garage around
six. I've got some work to do so come over around seven."

"Okay. I'll be there."

"I gotta go." He spoke in a menacing growl: "Clean up your feet. Trim your
nails." He hung up.

I stood there, a bit surprised by his order that I clean myself. If
anything, I scrub and slough more since I met him. I knew some guys
probably get off on dirty feet, but not Ken from what I could tell.

Walking across to Mel's I saw as usual the tarps had been dropped over the
windows in the service bay doors. I used the customer entrance, locking it
behind me, and went through the passage into the service bay. It was
relatively cool and dim in the high-ceilinged garage, where I found another
surprise: Ken looked incredible, almost unrecognizable. He was in his white
boxers and a slightly loose black muscle shirt that dropped off his
pecs. His usually wild black hair had been cut and his beard was trimmed
down around his jaw. His face radiated a new intensity. His upper body hair
had been buzzed down, too - a quarter-inch stubble dusted his big, rocky
pecs and firm abdomen.

I walked over to him. A fluorescent light barely cut the twilight
gloom. There was a long white rag tucked in his waistband. Normally he wore
socks but tonight he was in his grey steel-toed workboots. He towered over
me in my running shoes. I looked down at his massive legs, eyeing his long,
powerful hamstrings as I walked around him to the fridge.

"That's good you wore the wool socks," he said. He had given me the socks a
few weeks before. I helped myself to a beer. A baseball game played on a
little TV. I like the garage, the smell of gas and oil, the cement
floor. We watched a few batters - neither of us sat down. "You should take
your clothes off," he said when the third inning ended. "Leave your socks
on."

I shucked my shoes, shorts and t-shirt and followed him into the
shadows. He motioned me to climb onto a work stool. These stools are black
leather seats with a short black back-rest on a metal post. You can pump
them from floor level to quite high. I sat my naked butt down, expecting
him to give me a massage.

It was very dark. He stood behind me and told me to put my hands up. I
smiled and raised my palms like I was under arrest. He grabbed my wrist and
belted a leather strap around it. The strap was attached to a chain hung
from the ceiling. Another strap was on my left, hanging from another chain
of the same length - Ken strapped my other wrist to it. I was sitting there
with my arms bound and spread up and out, my wrists hanging from the
chains, my elbows slightly bent.

He took his belt off his jeans that were lying there. He strapped it
tightly around my waist and fixed it to the seat post. My back was now
firmly pressed into the back-rest. Instinctively I struggled a bit, tried
to shift my weight. The belt kept my legs from being able to raise my
ass. My feet were planted on the chrome ring around the stool legs. I was
trapped, too high on the chair to stand up, but I could still kick. I
started breathing hard - I was either too surprised or too turned on to
speak.

He moved into the dark and flipped on the harsh buzzing light high above
me. I could see him even less now as he moved around. I heard a loud
rattling noise and in a few seconds a chain lowered itself in front of me
to the left, then another to the right. Ken appeared with two more leather
cuffs. He fixed them to the chains, then lifted my leg by the calf. He
spread my right leg out and to the side, and cuffed my ankle to the
chain. He did the same with my left.

Now I was absolutely stuck - naked except for my grey wool socks, my arms
high and spread out, my legs spread apart hanging in front of me, my lower
back strapped tightly to the back-rest. I noticed that my dick was
rigid. So did Ken; he stared at it as he walked around me and lowered his
clean-smelling nipple to my mouth. I teasingly lapped it into stiffness. He
grunted and plucked at my nips. "You're gonna like Brad," he murmured into
my ear.

I felt panic rising in my chest. "Who's Brad?"

He just chuckled and put his stiff nipple against my lips. I smelled his
armpit's fresh sweat, mouthed his firm pec. "Yeah, I think so," Ken said,
deciding to draw the long white rag across my mouth and gag me with it
before I could even move my neck.

"Fuckin' Brad - he's crazy. " He gently tucked more of the rag into my
mouth and secured it by doubling it back and tying it. Shit - I felt stupid
for letting him do this to me. At least before now I could talk. Who was
this Bradley and what was he planning to do? I couldn't even protest now.

He moved in front of me and leisurely massaged my feet through the grey
wool socks, pausing now and then to take a whiff. The sun was all the way
down now. Ken walked away and got himself a beer from the fridge. Headlight
beams swung across the garage through the gaps in the window tarp and I
heard a car pull up and stop. In a few seconds there was a loud knock on
the customer service door. I growled uselessly, struggling. I watched Ken's
silhouette cross the room.

I was hyper-alert for every sound, Ken's boots going to the front, the door
unlocking and opening. "Bradley!" I heard him say. "How're you doin', Bud?"
Then I couldn't make out their mumbling until, all too soon, they came
in. I was under the glare of the light and could barely see them.

"Holy fuck," a strange voice said, and started laughing. He kept his voice
down. "Jeez, man. This is what we're gonna play? Wow."

I swallowed hard when he moved into the light. His form was framed by my
obscenely spread legs. He was tall, a red-head, with a thick neck,
square-jawed freckled face and a buzzcut. His white t-shirt clung to his
muscled shoulders. I swallowed hard again when I saw his solid, bulging
arms. Was I about to get the shit kicked out of me? Ken swaggered up,
feeling the beer now and enjoying himself. "Bradley, this is Jack."

"Hi, Jack. Call me Brad, only pussies call me Bradley." My cock was
half-hard against my thigh. I could feel my face burning. He quit laughing
and stared at me for a long time. He pulled his t-shirt off, giving me an
amazing view of his pits and triceps. He had a dusting of reddish body
hair, not enough to obscure his muscle definition. He stepped out of his
khaki shorts, leaving his underwear on. I couldn't help but look down at
his black workboots. "You like boots?" he said. I could only stare.

Ken moved behind me and started slowly brushing his thumb against my
nipple, his hand resting on my chest. With his other hand he swigged his
beer. Brad's hands were on my legs. "Big legs on him, eh? You do squats? Do
ya?" I nodded, feeling too naked with these guys in their boxers casually
molesting me. "Fuckin' big arms, too, big lats, everything." He slapped my
thigh, making my dick jump. "Does he work in a firehall?"

"No," said Ken, slowly thumbing my nips. "But he works out a lot. He's
bigger now than when I met him." He leaned down and brushed his tongue on
my other nipple. I was rock hard now. "Brad, you like those socks he's got
on?"

Brad stared over my head at Ken, breathing. After a long time he said,
"Those wool socks you were talking about?"

"Yeah man, the ones I gave him. The ones he's wearing."

Brad's hand moved down to my ankle, brushing my sock, but he didn't take
his burning eyes off Ken. "The ones on his feet right now, you mean." He
had a animal look in his eye.

I felt my panic rising. Brad was a handsome fucker but he was a freak. Then
he suddenly moved away. I felt sweat dripping down my flanks. I watched his
big, rocky body as he clomped over to the fridge. He opened a beer and
briefly looked at the baseball game. He came back, pulled up a stool, sat
down, and took off my sock. He stuck it into his mouth. He checked out my
naked foot, looked briefly into my eyes, then at Ken. "Holy shit."

"I told you," said Ken.

Brad kept staring at my right foot. I felt the hot air from his
nostrils. His tongue crept out and gently rooted around the base of my big
toe. "Holy shit. You were right. Small and fuckin' hot."

"I told you, man. He's like a size 8."

Brad peeled off my other sock. He said something about my long straight
toes, how shorter guys usually have stubby toes but not me. "The skin's so
smooth too, he takes care of these. You work on these, don't you? I'd like
to watch that." He looked around and found my runners. He picked them and
sniffed both of them deeply, an erection beginning to tent his shorts.

He sat again and chowed down on all the toes of my left foot except the big
one. A shockwave went up my hanging leg. He grunted, ploughing his mouth up
and down. He sucked down and his teeth pulled the skin under the balls. I
moaned against the gag, my toes scrambling around his teeth and tongue. He
stopped eating and blew air. My feet flexed involuntarily in his hands. I
was used to Ken's slow seductions, not this kind of assault. My dick was
rock hard.

Ken dribbled silicon lubricant onto my stiffened nips. When his big thumbs
went down on them my exposed butthole contracted and my dick bounced
against my abdomen. Brad watched this and grinned, his tongue hanging out
before it started a dry, sandpapery exploration of every side of every toe
spread by this thick freckled fingers. He sat there with his eyes closed
eating me like that, becoming more relaxed as I became more horny, frantic
and trapped. He never took his hand off one foot while he sucked the
other. He moaned with no idea how the vibrations of his voice made my dick
leak. "Fuckin' perfect feet," he mumbled, nibbling up and down my instep.

Ken bent down and said in a horny voice,"How're you doin', Jack?" I could
only look helplessly at him and hyperventilate. He gave into my silent
begging and opened his mouth at me. "Yeah," I whimpered - or tried to. I
wanted his lips so fucking bad. He moved next to Brad. I thought I was
going to pass out, watching these two big studs jockey for position, Ken
shifting his chair over and Brad lifting my ankle to where he wanted it,
spreading my legs even further. In their hands, the two of them gazing at
me with their lips parted and hungry -- I'd never felt so naked or trapped.

There was no mercy. Ken ate my right foot and Brad ate my left. They were
engrossed. Neither of them paid any attention to what the other was doing -
they each did their own thing, alternating lazy and vigorous. My toes
curled and spread against their stubbled jaws, their noses. Brad got into
lightly chewing the pad of my heel while watching my reaction. Ken's lower
teeth smoothly grazed the undersides of my crazy toes, which he violently
sucked up and tongued wet.

Brad said he liked my high arches and he stroked them with his big
tongue. He held my big toe away with his thumb and the lower part of his
index finger. Then he sucked up my other four toes. He made his tongue
really hard and flicked it brutally against the stretched fleshy areas
between my toes. Ken chewed and chewed my heel, even getting his molars
involved.

I felt demented with lust, my mouth hanging open. My legs flexed against
the restraints. I don't know how long it went on, this double oral rape of
my feet. They both started pulling on their cocks, turning to face each
other with their mouths full of me. Brad moved to Ken and they licked my
left foot together, their tongues lapping against each other's between my
toes. Brad's pale cudgel poked out of the leg of his shorts, his strong
hand palming the head, biceps bulging like cantaloups. Ken watched him,
smiling with his mouth full.

They finally let go of me. Ken leaned back on his boots and stroked himself
hard and fast. While he beat his cock, Brad picked up one of my socks,
sniffed it deeply and used it to wipe off my feet. Ken turned away. I
panted, grateful for the break.

But they didn't seem to be able to stop themselves. "Fuckin' nice," Brad
said, rubbing my sole. Ken went back to smearing slick lube around my nips
with his rough thumb. My nips were hard as stone at his relentless teasing
touch. I grunted wildly, hornier than I thought possible. Brad disappeared
into the darkness.

I heard him come up behind me and whisper something. "Yeah," said Ken, and
he unstrapped the belt from around my waist. I was able to shift my butt a
bit - it felt good.

Ken said into my ear, "Bradley and I can get into some hard shit."

Brad walked around in front of me carrying the wide black belt doubled up
in his hand. He slapped his palm with it a couple of times, looking at
me. I knew what was coming and I gave him a defiant look. He lightly
slapped the sole of my foot with the belt. I didn't react, as if it felt
like nothing. He slowly began strapping my soles, randomly switching
between them. My feet were still buzzing from the sucking - the leather
belt felt incredible.

The strokes got gradually harder and the cracking noise grew louder. I was
reacting now, jerking my legs around with the limited movement I had. Ken
kept up his leisurely assault on my nipples between gulps of beer.

Brad held the sole of my foot and belted the top, hard. I saw sparks - the
sensation was overwhelming. He said I obviously liked getting my tough
little size eights paddled. I could only moan in shocked agreement.

He let go of one end of the belt so it was no longer doubled-up. Stepping
back, he swung it like he was firing a fastball. The end of it cracked
against my sole. I yelled through the gag. He stepped back and whipped the
other foot with the same force. My entire body was on fire.

Ken had been made very horny by this. He went around and ate my right foot
while Brad whipped the left. As he whipped he laughed and stuck his tongue
out at me. Ken switched to eating my left foot and Brad started hitting the
right. You perverts, I thought, sweat running into my eyes. Ken sucked on
my instep and the belt came harder and faster.

"Okay," said Brad, pulling the chair up again. While Ken sucked my two
smallest toes, Brad pulled off his boots and socks. He lifted his huge pale
feet and wrapped his incredibly long toes around either side of my
cock. The hot balls of his feet gripped my erection, moving up and down the
length. My sole rested on his chest; he sucked up all five of my toes and
gobbled them like he was starving. He bobbed his square head up and down,
his bulky trapezius muscles flaring out.

I had both studs sucking me now and one stroking me off with his giant
muscled peds. It didn't take long before I screamed through the gag and
shot large amounts of hot jizz all over my chest and that handsome fucker's
long relentless toes. He playfully pressed his sole against my slick spent
prick, pressing it into my belly.

Ken had a desperate look. His lip was curled and his eyes were locked on
mine. He stripped off his boxers and walked up to me so his hard dick was
pressed into my sole. He grabbed my ankle and masturbated his big thick
dick with my foot - they were practically the same length. My toenails
grazed the stubble on his firm gyrating abdomen. His rigid cock felt
incredible, better than I had fantasized. I stretched my toes so his oozing
slit poked between them, used my smooth muscled sole to massage his
shaft. "Fuck you," he grunted. He seized my other foot, bent his head, and
sucked up a few toes. He moaned loudly and his teeth sunk in as his boiling
jizz coated my toes and sole.

* * * *

The only sounds were the three of us catching our breath and the faint
noise of the ball game. "Whooo," said Ken, shaking the last drops off his
cock. We all just kind of looked at one another. Cool and relaxed as they
had been, now they seemed as stunned as I at the intensity of what we'd
done.

Brad wiped his feet with a paper towel. They moved over to the TV and got
more beer. Watching them from a distance I couldn't get over how big they
both were, like bodyguards or bouncers. Barefoot, Brad was as tall as Ken,
who was still wearing his boots. Otherwise Ken was still naked and his
dark, hard, massive glutes pulsed with every step. I hung there, my wet
feet cooling. They laughed and Ken said they might as well put me out of my
misery. Brad joked about leaving me there until Ken's cum was crusty. They
came over and unstrapped me. I pulled off the gag and stepped down from the
stool. I breathed and stretched and slipped the damp socks over my sticky
feet while Brad watched. He said, "I like built, compact guys like you,"
running his hand over my bent-over back.

"You're pretty built yourself," I said. The first words I ever said to him.

I picked up my shorts and walked to the far back corner of the garage,
feeling for the light switch. I washed myself under the shower. There was a
red band around my waist where the belt had been. Ken came in and used the
sink to wash his dick and hands. I used the big rough towel and handed it
to him. He handed me a clean pair of white socks and I put them on.

Back in the garage I put my shorts on and popped another beer for
myself. Ken and Brad sat on the low black vinyl sofa and I took the
armchair. Brad seemed to spend as much time watching me and my feet as the
game. Ken seemed to be watching Brad. I started to think Ken was goading
him by having me wear pure white socks. The socks were brand new and my
size. He watched when I absently rubbed one foot with the other. I checked
out his feet too, wiped of my semen. There were just a few dark red hairs
on the toes and tops. He looked at me with hooded eyes and open mouth. "I
like suckin' your metatarsal heads," he said in a low voice. "You know what
they are?"

"No." What a freak, I thought. What a hot, masculine, sexy freak. But I
couldn't blame him for being crazed, the poor guy hadn't come yet.

The ball game was dull but the cold beer tasted good and the day's heat was
easing. After awhile Brad got up and stood in front of Ken, playing with
his own nipples. Ken lapped them with his tongue, which really aroused
Brad. Brad stripped his shorts off and lowered his big naked body to the
floor. Ken bent over him, pulling at his nips.

I joined them - I wasn't missing any of this action. Ken went down on
Brad's feet. I ran my palms over his solid pecs with their scant red
hair. I licked one of his jutting nipples while thumbing the other. Ken
made loud sucking noises around those long toes. In no time Brad was
bucking and moaning - we could see him trying to keep his hand off his own
cock, he was getting too close.

"Fuckin' NOW," he shouted.

"Yeah?" said Ken around his toes. "You ready to get fucked, fireman?"

"Fuckin' NOW, yeah!" Brad whimpered. Ken maneuvered me over so I stood by
Brad's legs. Ken grabbed my leg. I nearly fell over and had to grab the arm
of the sofa. Ken whipped off my right sock. My ankle in his grasp, he
started feeding my toes into Brad's clean, slippery asshole. Brad must have
lubed himself while we were cleaning up. I didn't know what I was doing,
but I stayed with it. Brad gasped and bucked when his ass-lips sucked
around the bottoms of my toes.

Ken grasped my instep in his big hand and pushed my foot in further. I felt
the balls of my foot shove open Brad's crack. His stretched asshole was
tight around the base of my foot-balls. His hole's searing flesh clung to
my toes. I twisted my foot a bit to feel around. He bucked and grunted,
riding his hole further up my foot as I stood there on the toes of my other
foot, fighting to keep my balance as Ken fed him my slick, sweating
ped. Brad stared at my white socked foot and thumbed his dickhead.

Ken took his hands away from my foot. I managed to settle my ass on the arm
of the sofa and started slowly ploughing Brad's hot stretched hole. I
squeezed lube between my toes and ravaged his prostate with my hard
knuckles. He groaned throatily, taken down a dozen or so helpless notches,
his big stubbled body writhing around my grinding foot.

While that was happening, Ken took off his boots and socks. I'd never seen
him barefoot before. He stood over Brad and planted his long, wide,
black-haired foot right on Brad's face. A fresh, tangy funk wafted up. Brad
snorted and moaned, his hand finally seizing his reddened, jumping prick.

I started virtually kicking his hole, without totally removing my toes. He
furiously banged on his thick cock, pulling his balls up. With his other
hand he alternated thumbing the wide pale base and pinching his nipples -
he was a total pleasure-hog now. Ken rubbed his rough heel around his whole
face. Then Ken lifted his foot and lowered all his long thick toes down
into Brad's mouth. Brad sucked hungrily. We were raping him from both ends
now, working up a two-way kicking rhythm.

I braced myself on the arm of the sofa and my foot went crazy, toes
rummaging deep in Brad's hot spread hole, my heel pounding a beat on his
thick muscled butt cheeks. His huge thighs bulged, he threw his head back
and stream after stream of white stuff shot out over his head. It was a
geyser - a lot splattered on the floor and a lot landed on Ken's leg. Brad
soaked his own abdomen with the final spewings. I was stiff as a board,
gasping, my foot having been forced out of his spastic hole.

I stood on the cement, one foot dry and still buzzing from its recent
facefuck, the other slick with lube that had spattered up my shin and
calf. The air smelled of semen, all our sweat and Ken's freshly bared
feet. Brad lay there with his eyes closed, sated. Ken sat on the floor at
Brad's head, watching him and idly pulling at his own cock in his
boxers. Then he raised himself and walked to the bathroom. We could hear
him in the shower washing off his leg.

I thought again how he never let me see his feet before. Maybe he and Brad
got together regularly and Brad worked on them so well Ken hadn't been
ready to share them with me. Maybe he thought I wasn't that into other
guys' feet. That was true, but it seemed to be getting less true.

Brad opened his eyes slightly and leered at me in an exaggerated way. I
laughed and he laughed too. We gazed at each other in lusty mutual
admiration. I leaned down and kissed him. Ken came back and I kissed him,
too. Ken ordered a pizza. We all cleaned up and watched pro wrestling.

--

The author appreciates feedback.

Copyright (c)2006 "GS K" hot4bm@yahoo.ca