Date: Sat, 01 Apr 2006 01:42:47 -0500
From: bedroom athlete <bedroomathlete84@hotmail.com>
Subject: Celeb Foot Fun 10: A Friend in Need

Disclaimer: The following is a sequel (of sorts) to one of the earlier
chapters in the Celeb Foot Fun stories, "The One with the Feather," which
featured the guys from Friends engaging in foot worship and tickle play.
It's a sort-of sequel because, while all three men are used again, I've
decided to not use them in the guise of their characters this time but
instead am using the celebrities who play them, i.e. Matthew Perry, Matt
Leblanc, and David Schwimmer.  I wanted to use these guys again in light of
recent true events involving Matt Leblanc's divorce from his wife, and also,
I must admit that I have never watched an episode of Friends in my life and
keeping somewhat close to their character proved rather difficult for me
last time.  So instead, this is a fictional story, with some references to
the previous chapter, involving David and Matthew cheering up Matt after his
separation from his wife in the best way they know how.  That's a very
long-winded way for me to say that none of what follows is real (except for
some true details, which don't involve any guy-guy sex), and is a creation
of my own mind, and is not intended to claim anything about the sexuality of
the people involved.  If you're turned off by gay sex or foot fetish
stories, or are under 18, please turn back now.  If not, then please read
on.  Comments/story suggestions can be sent to bedroomathlete84@hotmail.com.
  Enjoy!

(P.S. -- for those who might be tempted to skip through the expository stuff
and get straight to the good parts (don't act like some of you don't!), for
clarity's sake: Matthew = Perry, Matt = Leblanc.  Trust me, I confused even
myself sometimes writing this.)

Celeb Foot Fun 10: A Friend in Need

	Matt Leblanc took another sip from what must have been his fifth glass of
whiskey that evening.  He was all by himself in his Los Angeles home, which
he'd been preparing to move out of all day long.  So that was that, he
thought bitterly to himself.  Three years of marriage with Melinda, down the
drain.  What's more, it was nine years on that he'd spent with a wonderful
woman who didn't love him anymore.  Yeah, it was 1997 when they'd first met,
introduced to each other by Lou Diamond Phillips, Matt's good friend.  Where
the fuck did things go wrong?  Everyone thought they got along well
together, and Matt was certain of it, too.
        Things probably started to go haywire when he'd fooled around with
that stripper, Matt groused.  Things were tense well before that, but that
was really just the icing on the cake.  He couldn't even remember the cunt's
name, he was so drunk.  And of course, the tabloid fallout didn't win him
any new fans, and probably cost him some of his loyal ones, at that.  Every
time he got too drunk, Matt told himself, he started thinking with his dick,
without ever considering what would happen in the public and private
spheres.  And naturally, Melinda gave him shit for it; what self-respecting
wife wouldn't?
        Matt finished the glass and slammed it down on his coffee table.
What was worse was that the repulsive idea that he probably wouldn't be able
to see his children as much anymore, thanks to custody rights and all that
crap.  His youngest daughter, Marina, was still fighting the nervous
disorder she was diagnosed with at 11 months of age, and her progression was
modest at best.  Naturally, he wanted to be there for his daughter, and was
prepared to use as much of the cash he'd earned from his television career
to support the search for the treatment.  That is, if his adoring wife
didn't mind his charity.
        Though the room around him was starting to spin a little bit, he
poured yet another glass of whiskey and brought it to his lips.  At nearly
40 years old, he was still drinking like he was in college, though he swore
to himself (and to his wife) on many occasions that he'd give it up to
support her and their children.  Of course, now that she was more or less
out of the picture, he could renege on that promise and not feel too bad
about it -- at least, not until the morning when would wake up with a
terrible hangover.  It wasn't right to be drinking the way he was, but at
this point, substance abuse didn't seem like such a terrible idea.  Matt
mused that if he could somehow just drink himself impotent, he would never
have any problems with women ever again.
	In his drunken stupor, Matt then thought back fondly to that one March day,
way back in 2003, when his Friends co-stars, Matthew Perry and David
Schwimmer, had played a prank on him that ended up with rather unexpected
consequences.  The two men had tied him to bed and tickled him ferociously,
which had the unintended effect of making him ejaculate right there in front
of the guys.  Growing up, he'd never had an older brother who would torture
him like that, though he did horse around quite a bit with his younger
half-brother, Justin, and did a lot of the typical bullying older-brother
things like wedgies and the usual aggressively playful rough-housing.  For
whatever reason, though, the touch of his two co-stars and friends had sent
him into a spiral of painful ecstasy whose end result confused him for
weeks.  He was pretty sure he wasn't gay, despite his picture once appearing
on the cover of some gay travel magazine back in his modeling days.
However, when you have someone rubbing you down there and all over, Matt
supposed, even if it was a guy, it was still gonna get you hard.
	That's it, thought Matt with the sort of indignant purpose that comes
naturally to you when you've had a few.  What he needed right now, more than
anything, was a good friend or two.  A really, really good friend or two
whom he could rely on for a shoulder to cry on, an ear to lend, and, well,
some other body parts if the chance arose.  Matt got up and staggered across
the room, searching frantically for his cellphone.  Squinting to read the
screen, he finally, after much effort, located Matthew Perry's name in his
cellphone's contact list.  Despite his impaired motor skills, he managed to
dial the number and waited, with some impatience, for his friend to respond
on the other end.
	A sleepy voice on the other end mumbled, "Hello?"
	"Dude, Matthew, it'sh Matt," slurred Matt, obviously incredibly intoxicated
by this point.
	"Matt?  Matt, it's...nearly 4 in the morning, what are you doing up?"
	"What do you THINK I'm doing up?  I'm waiting for the newshpaper boy to
come sho I can get a good shtart on my day."
	"Oh god, Matt, you're drunk as hell, aren't you?"
	"Only a teenshy bit, I didn't have that much, only, like, shix glashes of
whishkey which ish like hardly anything.  I can fucking take it, I'm a man."
	"Dude, Matt, I'm worried about you.  Please just go to bed already, okay?
I'll talk to you in the morning, but right now you need to get some rest.
And please drink some water before --"
	"Hey, no no no Matthew pleashe don't hang up on me, man, okay?  Lishen, I
jusht...really need to shee a friend right now, okay?  I'm sho fffucking
dishtraught about thish shit `n' I jusht, dude, come over okay?  We'll have
shome drinksh or something, but jushtpleasecomeover?"
	Matthew grimaced to himself.  Matt sounded downright pathetic.  Plus, if he
didn't interject, odds are good he'd drink himself to death if left to his
own devices.  And Matthew knew a thing or two about nearly drinking yourself
to death, as the tabloid coverage of his in-and-out rehab stints attested.
He certainly didn't want a similar thing happening to his good friend.
"Fine, I'll be over as soon as I can.  Don't drink anything until I get over
there, alright?  Can you promise me that, buddy?"
	"Yeah, shurefinewhatevr, jeshgethereokbye," slurred Matt as he clumsily
pressed the End button on his phone, cutting Matthew off.  Taking yet
another sip of whiskey, he fumbled for David's number.  After a few tries,
he finally got a hold of him.
	"Matt, seriously, man, it's 4:00 AM, whaddya want?" demanded a visibly
bothered David on the other end of the line.
	"Dude!  David!  Oh man I'm shoooo glad you picked up.  Lishen, come over to
my place okay?"
	"Are...are you wasted?"
	"Only a liiiil bit, but not too much that we can't have shome fun," said
Matt, who hadn't meant for his ulterior motive to slip out so soon.
	"Some what?  Fun?  Matt, what the hell are you talking about?" asked David,
who was pretty confused and irritated by this point.
	"I mean, not fun, no, like, um...well, like, Matthewsh coming over in a bit
and we're gonna jush like talk about shtuff.  Like wivesh who shuck ash and
their husbandsh who file for divorsh because they shuck so much.  Yknow that
kinda shit?"
	Oh, right, thought David.  The Melinda issue.  Of all the things to make a
guy hit the bottle, this ranked as one of the worst.  He'd had some minor
drinking issues of his own when Mili Avital broke up with him a few years
back but at least he never drunk-dialed people at 4 in the morning because
of it.  He figured that the good Samaritan thing to do was at least go over
to Matt's house to make sure he didn't drink himself blind.  "Okay, dude,
give me some time, but I'll be over as soon as I can, and we can talk about
all of this together, k?"
	"Yeah man, awshum.  Sheeyouinabit!" Matt ended the call after some thorough
futzing.  Why were cellphones so damn small anyway?  He finished his sixth
glass and set it down, all the while contemplating his seventh.  It would
take about half an hour for his friends to get here from their houses, he
figured, so he may as well make the most of his time.

	Around 4:45 AM, a hastily dressed and bleary-eyed Matthew Perry showed up
at Matt's doorstep, wearing his pajama bottoms, slippers without socks, and
an old t-shirt from his college days that barely fit him anymore and that he
mostly used for bedtime purposes.  He was startled to hear some rustling
behind him, and for a moment he imagined it was someone who, passing by, had
recognized and was about to ask him for an autograph or something.  This was
exactly not what he needed at all right now!
	To his surprise, though, the intruder turned out to be a familiar face.
"David?"
	"Matthew?  Oh, so I guess he wasn't making that part up," replied an
equally surprised David.
	"Making what up?  What are you doing here?"
	"Well, he called me at around 4 and told me to come over.  He said you were
also coming, and that you guys were gonna have some `fun?'"
	"Fun?  I don't know what the hell he could've meant by that.  He's drunk
off his ass right now, though, that's all I know."
	"Dude, tell me about it.  I came over `cuz I was so concerned.  I mean, I
know they were together for awhile, but divorce is no reason to drink
yourself to the grave."
	"Hah, you're telling me?" replied Matthew.
	"Good point," teased David.  Matthew had at least overcome most of his
issues and the two of them could easily laugh about it in hindsight.
	"Well, anyway, let's investigate, shall we?" suggested Matthew.
	"Should we just walk in or knock first?  Do you think his wife's home?"
	"Her car's not here, she's probably staying with someone else."
	"True.  Ring the bell."
	Just as Matt was about to press the buzzer, the door abruptly swung open to
reveal, standing there, a totally disheveled and obviously hammered Matt
Leblanc.
	"You guysh came!  I'm sho happy you're here guys sheeeerioushly!"  Matt
staggered forward and clumsily threw his arms around his co-stars.  Matthew
and David propped him up as best as they could and, giving each other
covert, concerned glances, brought Matt inside where they lay him down on
the black leather sofa in Matt's living room, being sure to confiscate his
glass and to remove his shoes so he'd be more comfortable.
	"Okay, buddy, we're here, like we promised.  Now just lie down here for
awhile, and we'll get you some water and talk about things, okay?  David,
shut the door and get Matt a glass of water," directed Matthew.
	Closing the door, David then maneuvered his way into the kitchen.  Washing
out an empty glass in the sink, David then filled it nearly to the brim with
water and rushed it over to the prone Matt.
	Sitting upright, Matt asked enthusiastically, "Dudesh is that vodka? Are
you gonna drink all that?"
	"No, buddy, it's water, and it's for you.  Drink it up and let's chat,
okay?"
	"Dude I'm shooo glad you guysh came over, sherioushly.  Melindash a fucking
BITCH and I'm sho glad I got rid of her," slurred Matt.
	"Man, don't say that," egged Matthew.  "She's a great woman and you know
it.  You just had your differences and it didn't pan out.  No big deal,
happens to lots of couples.  David and I both know how you feel, but don't
blame her for your problems."
	"She ISH my fucking problem, Maffew," yelled Matt, practically spitting
water in Matthew's face.  "We had a whole fucking LIFE together and now itsh
not working out and I don't know what to do..."  Matt broke off.  It was
evident that the waterworks were going to start rolling soon.  Matthew
silently motioned for David to find a box of tissues somewhere.
	"Dude, listen to us," commanded Matthew.  "We're your buddies, okay?  And
we're here for you for whatever you need.  Drinking and moping isn't going
to solve everything though, okay?  You're a strong guy, and you've been
through a lot of shit in the past -- we all have.  But we're sure you can get
through it, because you're a fighter, and we're on your side, okay?  And if
there's anything we can do for you, we'll try to do it within reason.  But
you gotta stop crying first, okay?  Promise me that, Matt."
	Matt took one of the tissues David held before him and dabbed at his eyes.
"You're right guysh, I can't fucking do thish all the time.  She can't lord
over my life like thish, and I just shound really pathetic right now.  But
lishen, guys, since you shaid I could have anything I want, theresh
something that I would rillyrillyrilly like if itsh `within reashon' as you
shay."
	Matthew and David listened with concern.  "Yeah, man, anything you want."
	"Okay, sho like, remember that one time when we did the foot thing?"
	"The foot thing?"
	"Yeah, like when you guysh tied me to the bed and tickled me?"
	Matthew and David gulped.  "Dude, we agreed to never mention that again,
okay?"  said David.  The next morning the three men, out of some
embarrassment, decided that, as fun as it had been, they couldn't let
themselves do something like that again.  If anyone ever found out, it would
be an embarrassment for all concerned, and potentially career suicide in
this conservative day and age.  No agent would ever hire them if they found
out the three of them were closet pervs.
	"No guysh I know but sherioushly just lishen to me.  You shed I could have
anylilthing I wanted, and right now, I know it wash weird and all and we
shed we woont do it again but guysh, I rillyrilly want to do that foot thing
again, because it wash fun and I'm jusht totally shick of women right now.
You undershtand, right?"
	Matthew quickly responded, "Matt, I really don't think we can do this.
First off, you're drunk as hell and your mind isn't in the right place.
Second, even if you're divorced, you've still got kids, and what kind of
example - "
	"Look dude I don't CARE what kind of `exzzzample' I'm shetting for anyone,"
replied Matt belligerently.  "All I know ish I'm drunk and mizrable and I
want shome fucking relief already.  It'll be fun guysh, trusht me!"
	David and Matthew looked at each, unsure how to proceed.  They had to
admit, that one experience was, for all of its, well, unconventionality, was
still totally a blast.  Each of them silently shelved it as an event to be
remembered, and in their pursuant sexual encounters with women and
girlfriends, each of them had visualized the experience once or twice when
they were desperate to get it up.  Still, that was just a once-in-a-lifetime
thing, and something that never needed to be repeated again.  Not just
because it would ruin the memory of that first time but also because it was,
in a way, sort of sick and gross at the same time.  Also, it would seem like
exploitation if they were to take Matt up on his offer right now, since he
was clearly plastered and not of sound mind.
	Matthew started, "Look, Matt, we love you and all, but - "
	"Well," interrupted an impatient Matt, "if you rilly loved me, you'd
fucking shtart licking my feet allllready."  Sitting up, Matt fumbled to
remove his white athletic socks.  Peeling them off, he threw them across the
room and stretched his legs out so as to nearly flaunt his bare feet for
David and Matthew.  "Have at it, fellash!"
	The two men looked at each other again, nervous about how to proceed.  The
thought that it would be taking advantage of their poor friend crossed their
minds once again.  On the other hand, good friends help each other out, and
really, licking his feet wasn't that high on a list of potentially
unreasonable requests.
	Kneeling down at the foot of the couch, David took Matt's right foot into
his hands and Matthew grabbed the left.  They immediately were reminded of
the last time they had done this, when an innocent prank had turned into an
unexpected sexual encounter.  As before, this evening had started out, and
was indeed about to end, with a totally unexpected twist of events.
	Cocking their heads down, David and Matthew each slipped their mouths over
Matt's big toes and started to gently suck on the fat digits, letting the
odor of Matt's feet drift into their nostrils and allowing their saliva to
build up in their mouths, completely drowning his big toes in swathes of
spit.  Rolling their tongues along the nails and backs of the toes, they
then slipped their mouths off and each man, as though working in tandem,
began to suck successively on the remaining toes on Matt's feet.  The two
men methodically sucked and licked on each of Matt's toes, basting them all
with their saliva and letting it dribble down Matt's tops and soles.  They
licked the undersides of the toes and wormed their tongue in the spaces
between them, their tongues slithering like snakes in and out of the narrow
spaces.  Once they'd each established a rhythm, they found themselves
getting into the swing of things, and each man began to remember quite
fondly licking Matt's Vaseline-smeared feet so many years ago.
	Matt, in his drunken ecstasy, was delighted as fuck that his friends were
giving him a helping hand by releasing some of his tension.  The feel of
their tongues sliding and slithering along his toes and the sensation of
their warm mouths encapsulating each and every one of his toes was a joy he
hadn't experienced in three years, since Melinda refused to do anything of
that nature to him.  Every time she refused the offer, he had begun to think
of that night with increasing frequency and had even incorporated it into a
few of his wank sessions, which he immediately felt guilty for after
climaxing.  Right now, though, he was drunk, and passion ruled over
pragmatism.  He didn't want anything else right now than his two guy friends
licking his feet.
	Matthew and David, for their parts, were also enjoying themselves.  The
aroma of feet didn't take long to get used to, and Matt's didn't smell too
bad.  The sweat on his feet, plus the sneaker smell, made it kind of hotter
in a raunchy sort of way.  The two men never thought, and indeed, with Matt,
had swore that they would never do this again, but this opportunity which
they'd taken had proven to be too good to pass up.
	Going for the whole hog, Matthew and David had begun to run their tongues
up and down Matt's soles, slathering both of his feet now with their spit.
All three men were starting to grow hard at this incredibly erotic activity
which shouldn't have been as erotic as it was, but when you're caught up in
the moment like they were, it was pretty pointless to argue about ethics and
morals; it just felt really good, and that's all that mattered.  Matt was no
doubt feeling much more cheered up as a result of their devotion, devotion
to both his feeling good and, on a more tangible level, to his feet.  The
two men lavished Matt's feet with their tongues, attacking his vulnerable
toes and his pink, exposed soles with frenzied glee, enjoying the distinct
taste and odor of his sweaty feet.  The cuckoo clock in Matt's living room
had struck five.  Neither Matthew nor David had imagined as they went to bed
a mere four hours ago that this was the wake-up call they would receive!
	In the middle of their foot worship, Matt suddenly withdrew his feet from
their admirers.  Matthew and David bolted up, with a bit of awkwardness as
the two men were now both sporting wood.  "What's wrong, Matt?"
	"Nothing, guysh, that wash aweshome," slurred Matt, who was still far from
sober.  "But I kinda have another requesht, if you don't mind,"
	"Name it," said David and Matthew simultaneously, instantly revealing their
hands, as it were.
	"Well, you know how lasht time I wash all tied up on the bed while you
guysh were getting me off?  Well I never got a chance to reship...reshipro...to
do the shame to you," stuttered Matt.  "And I'd like to try becaush I think
you'd like it."
	Matthew and David hesitated.  They'd complied with his friend's request to
make him feel better, but this was a bit different.  He was now begging to
suck their toes, and since Matt was still really drunk, this was
considerably more exploitative than the other way around.  Still, their
reason lost out to their libidos, and both men complied with Matt's wishes,
knowing they'd probably regret it in the morning but not really caring to
think ahead at the moment.
	Matt stumbled off the couch so as to give his friends room to sit down and
prepare themselves.  Seating themselves, Matthew slipped off the Hush
Puppies slippers he had put on in the rush of getting here, while David
untied and pushed off his old Nike sneakers and thentook off his white
socks.  The two men were now sitting upright and barefoot on Matt's leather
couch.
	Matt got right down to business.  Kneeling down in front of them, in an
almost supplicant manner, Matt took Matthew's feet in his hands and began to
suck on his toes, giving each one equal attention with his lips and tongue.
His technique was considerably clumsier and less gentle than Matthew and
David's, a fact obviously owing to his intoxication, but to Matthew it still
felt nonetheless fantastic to have his friend and co-star sucking on his
feet.  Matt's mouth slurped and sucked loudly on his toes and his saliva,
which had been replenished only slightly by the water he had just drank, was
dribbling everywhere, all down the tops of Matthew's feet and along his
instep and down his soles as well.  He ravished Matthew's feet with great
gusto, worshipping his meaty soles and his plump, hairy toes with his roving
pink tongue.  Matt wasn't thinking at all about the next morning when he'd
wake up hungover as shit with a fuckload of regret; he was living in the
here and now and having a total blast while doing so.
	Leaving Matthew's feet alone for a second, Matt scuttled over to his right
and began to turn his attention to David's feet, taking both of his strong,
muscular feet into his hands.  He clapped his feet together and took both of
his big toes into his mouth, sucking on them together in the same way you'd
eat a popsicle with two sticks.  He swirled his tongue around the combined
circumference of the two toes before slipping his mouth off and letting his
tongue slide along the undersides of his toes, collecting some of the saliva
that was dribbling out of his mouth and sucking it back in, relishing the
taste of the foot-laden spit.  He continued worshipping David's feet,
running his tongue along the hairy tops and along the fleshy backs of his
feet, smothering them with kisses and licks and slurps.
	All three men were writhing with pleasure at this particular moment: Matt
from drunkenly indulging in the pleasure of servicing another guy's feet
with his tongue and mouth, David from the enjoyment of having his feet
worshipped by his friend, and Matthew from watching his former Friends
co-stars engaging in hot footplay right after Matt had just worshipped his
feet and toes.  None of them could've imagined being embarrassed this right
now even if they tried.  So long as Melinda didn't suddenly come home in the
middle of the night, there was nothing to be worried about.  They'd still be
friends after this; if there was a minimum of awkwardness last time, this
time around everything would also be cool.
	After Matt had practically dehydrated himself by slobbering all over his
friends' feet, he got up and, still tipsy from the whiskey, tried and failed
at undoing his belt.  David could sense what he was trying to do.  "What's
going on, man?"
	"I'm shorry guysh, that was sho fucking hot that I need to take my pantsh
off, they're kinda shtarting to chafe me yknowhamean?" drawled Matt in his
husky Boston accent.
	"Yeah, I think I understand," replied Matthew, who began to pull down his
own pants at the same time.  David got up and helped Matt undo his belt
buckle.  Looping it out from around his waist, David then proceeded to undo
his friend's button-fly and push his pants down, helping him to maneuver out
of his constricting clothing.  Stepping out of his own sweatpants, he kicked
them off to the far corner of the room.  All three men were now standing
there with visible tents in their boxers.
	"Well, while we're at it guysh letsh jusht get bareash nekkid eh?"
suggested Matt.  The other two guys had no problem whatsoever with this
idea, and all of them began to undress, lifting their shirts over their
heads and easing out of their boxers.  The three guys were now standing
there completely buck naked, their cocks at attention and rapidly
accumulating pre-cum, their feet soaked in saliva and slightly cold, being
exposed to the chilly living room air.
	"So, are we gonna do something, or what?" asked Matthew, clearly impatient
to get off.
	"Yeah, we are, and I've got a grrreat idea," slurred Matt, who asked the
other two guys to sit down on the floor in a triangle formation.  The three
men planted their bare bottoms on the carpeted floor, with David sitting at
Matt's right and Matthew at his left, with David and Matthew sitting next to
each other.  Matt stuck his feet out until his big toes touched the shaft of
Matthew's penis, and he began to fondle the hard cock with his feet, pawing
at it like a kitten at a scratching pole.  Both men were keen to pick up the
idea, and Matthew stretched his feet out until David's prick rested against
his soles.  David, following suit, extended his feet and was able to trap
Matt's cock between his toes.  The three men fondled each others' cocks with
their slick bare feet, rubbing their toes against one another's shafts and
batting their stiff rods around with their soles.
	David then began to move his toes up and down Matt's cock, in effect
jerking him off with his feet.  The other two men picked up on this and did
likewise, Matt gripping Matthew's cock between his soles and Matthew sliding
the skin over the head of David's dick using just his feet.  The three men
then began to pump each other's dicks, jacking each other off with their
feet.  Everything around them was silent except for the grunts and thrusts
of the three men in their sexual frenzy.  The last time they had done this,
Matthew and David had jerked each other off with their feet, and both men
had cum on Matt's feet, but all three men doing this to each other wasn't
something they'd tried, and frankly, it was totally awesome.  None of them
felt any self-consciousness about what they were doing by this point, and
instead were absolutely loving every second of it.
	The more vigorous their foot jobs became, the more intense the pressure in
their loins.  All three men were leaking copious amounts of pre-cum by this
point, and their bodies were collecting sweat thanks to the rigorous
activity that their current sexual positions entailed.  The saliva from
their foot-worship frenzy acting as a makeshift lubricant, Matthew, Matt and
David intensified their speed, furiously jerking one another's cocks with
their feet in an effort to bring each other off.  As great as the sensation
would've felt if they'd just prolonged it, all three men were now also
desperate to blow their loads and release the incredible pressure they were
feeling in their dicks.  Their cocks were numb with the sweet pain of sexual
stimulation, and it was only a matter of seconds before all three men were
brought to their boiling points.
	Sure enough, Matt began to buck his hips, thrusting his cock in and out
between David's toes.  His balls drew up tight beneath him as Matt threw his
head back in total sexual thrall.  With a loud groan, Matt arched his hips
upward and a long, thin, ropey strand of cum burst out of his cock, flying a
foot in the air before ascending all over David's feet.  Several more quick
and less forceful sprays jerked in a staccato motion out of Matt's twitching
cock, the remaining contents of his drawn-up balls gushing fountain-like out
of his dick and dribbling onto David's toes and soles.  David released his
grip on Matt's cock and concentrated instead on the pleasure that Matthew
was providing to his cock, knowing full well that he was gonna cum at any
second.
	Tensing up, David felt the urge to shoot rising in his irritated cock.
Closing his eyes and biting his lip, David assisted Matthew in his goal to
bring him off by bucking his hips and letting his cock slide in-between
Matthew's toes.  It was driving David crazy how unnaturally awesome this
felt, and much as he wanted this pleasure to last, seeing Matt cum all over
his toes and the sensation of the warm, slimy cum oozing down the backs of
his feet was altogether too much for the actor to handle.  Finally resisting
the urge no longer, David groaned and prepared to shoot.  A burst of cum
shot forth from the tip of his dick, propelled skyward and subsequently
landed all over Matthew's feet, oozing in-between his toes and trickling
down the tops of his feet.  It was followed by several less intense spurts
that nonetheless erupted with a considerable force that resulted in
Matthew's feet and David's dick being coated in his cum.
	After witnessing his two friends cumming, Matthew knew that his turn would
be coming shortly.  Matt had relented jerking Matthew off with his feet
while in the throes of his orgasm, but had resumed again upon seeing David
cum all over Matthew's feet.  Matt, having basted David's feet with his cum,
was now eager to have Matthew's spunk land all over his toes.  Even more
than that, he anticipated the process of having to clean the whole mess up,
no doubt, with his mouth.  Maneuvering his cock in and out between Matt's
toes, Matthew was starting to feel that tense, twitching sensation that
signaled he was ready to shoot.  Gasping for air, Matthew let out a sigh
and, when he'd reached his breaking point, shot his wad high into the air.
Like the others, the thin stream of cum fell onto the feet of the man who'd
been jerking him off.  Matthew's load flowed like lava out of his burning
cockhead, sliding down Matt's toes and coating them with a slimy trail of
his semen.
	Gasping for breath, the three men lay there in the post-coital glow, their
bodies glistening with sweat and their feet covered in each other's spunk.
Seeing that their feet were all streaked with semen, and remembering the
denouement of their previous excursion into footplay, all three knew the
logical conclusion to come to.  Grabbing David's feet, Matt ran his tongue
up along the sole and in-between the toes, collecting his sperm in his mouth
as he went.  Matthew then took hold of Matt's feet, and David Matthew's, and
the two men joined Matt in scoopingthe slimy secretion off of their feet
with their tongues like they were licking the icing off an egg beater.  The
men delighted in the vaguely salty taste of each others' cum, which nicely
complemented the dank, sweaty flavor of their feet, they all thought to
themselves.  They swallowed the ropey strands of cum with delight,
reflecting on how insane it was that they ever thought this was a bad idea
that was never to be repeated again.
	After the three men were done licking up their wads of cum off of one
another's feet, Matt broke the silence that had all but encapsulated the
three men during their sexual fury.  "Oh god, guys...that felt so good."
	"Yeah, it was pretty fucking awesome," said David.  "I think it may have
been hotter than the first time, right Matthew?"
	"Yeah, man.  Feet taste much better without Vaseline all over them."
	"Yeah, I'll just stick to cum from now on, thanks." David joked.
	Matt grinned and closed his eyes.  He was sobering up, but all the whiskey,
plus the intense sexual activity, was starting to make him sleepy.  He knew
he had to get up at some point in case Melinda came home to find the
startling sight of Matt and his two former co-stars lying completely naked
on the floor after an evening of awesome foot sex, but for the moment he was
content to lay there among them, basking in the sweet afterglow of his
second gay encounter.  Matthew and David felt the same way too, their eyes
glazed with fatigue, but it was the sort of fatigue that came after an
evening of satisfying hard work.  As their cocks finally began to go limp,
the three men drifted off to sleep, their legs still entangled in one
another's and their minds at peace.  Matt really did have the best friends a
guy could have.