Date: Fri, 9 Apr 2010 15:13:21 +0100 From: Nathan Minter <nathanminter1992@googlemail.com> Subject: Chris' Experiences 4 Chris' Experiences Written by Anuttymous, a.k.a. Nathan Written for Chris himself. All rules and laws and whatever else you can think of apply. This is just fiction - please use protection whenever and wherever you are. Enjoy the story! Two years prior. I'm sitting in my room, with nothing but the company of my right hand, as I surf the net for more gay porn. This is my everyday routine, in terms of sex. I've not got a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend, for that matter. Never had the courage to ask anyone out. Especially not my best friend, who I've always fancied. Besides, I'm not out yet, and the idea of all my friends knowing scares me. Especially if my best friend, Matt, knew. I continue searching, all the stuff I usually search, Googling things like "gay sex", oral and anal, even though I've never experienced either. A pop up about BDSM appears, but I've never really been into that, so I close it immediately. All I ever fantasised about was Matt, and what we could do together. Not to mention the many other hot boys I knew from school and work. My work was helping out at a JJB just out of town, so I see plenty of hot guys coming and going. The best bit was when I fitted them with shoes. I'll admit, I have a small thing for feet, so whenever I take off their shoes and get a whiff of their feet, my cock gets half hard just there. Even better, though, is some guys want to just leave with their new shoes, so I tell them I can throw their old ones away if they want. Of course, I don't. I take them home and sniff them as I wank, thinking about sucking off the hot owner of those shoes. How could I have known that this fantasy would soon be my first ever act of gay sex? It's a typical Saturday morning, I'm at work patrolling the aisles, when I see a very slender-looking lad, looked about 20 years old, dressed in baggy jeans, and a chavvy jacket over a baggy shirt, who's staring up at a pair of shoes high up on the wall. I walk over to him, and query about what he needed. "See them shoes?" he points at a pair of black and blue brand name shoes just out of reach, "All me mates 'ave got 'em. I need tah get a pair." I find out his shoe size – a wonderful 10 and a half – and then leave to get them from the stock cupboard. Returning a few minutes later with them, I pass them to him to try on. He sits down on a seat and takes off his shoes, placing them beside him, and then puts the new shoes on. Once he has them both on, I bend down to check his toes are at the top of the shoe, and that his heel won't slip out, though as I do I hear him snigger, ever so slightly that it could've been my imagination. I continue what I'm doing, ignoring this possible paranoia, until I've decided the shoes are the right size. Then I tell him to try them out for a bit, so he gets up and walks about for a few seconds. When he sits back down, he announces they're good, and he wants to buy them. I tell him to put them back in the box, but he says he just wants to pay and leave straight away, as he'll just put them back on anyway. "Do you want to keep your old shoes, then?" I ask, as I usually do in such a situation. "Nah, yeh can keep 'em, tah sniff as yeh 'ave a wank, yah li'l fag," he laughs, not knowing how close to the truth he is. This makes me blush somewhat, so I hurry ahead of him to the counter, so he can't see my face. When we get there, I go around the counter, and ask him for the money. After he pays and begins to walk away, I go to the cupboard, to put his shoes into my bag, to take home later. Then, as I leave the cupboard, I notice someone staring at me. Looking over at them, I realise it's the kid who just bought the shoes. And then I realise he just saw me put his old shoes into my bag. He grins evilly, and walks towards me. "When do you get off?" he asks, when within touching distance. "Uh... Not till about 6," I reply, wondering what he wants, "Why?" "Oh, nothing," he says, and then wanders off, leaving me bemused and disoriented, as I try to get back to work and concentrate. Hours later, I'm just leaving, so I change back into my normal clothes, and then walk outside. As the door closes behind me, I see him, standing across the road. He beckons me. I cross the road to him, and he tells me to come with him. "Where?" I ask. "Just come," he growls, and then grabs my arm, leaving me with no choice but to obey. He drags me a few streets down, and then up an alley. When we exit the alley, he pulls me over to a squalid little building with boarded up windows and the door covered in planks of wood nailed on. "This is where we stay, every day, usually in the morning," he announced, leaving me to wonder who "we" were. Then he opened the door with a key he produced from his pocket, and led me inside. Flicking a switch, a dim light came on over head, and he pulled me towards a room, which I noticed when we entered, had a uncomfortable looking sofa and a mini fridge in it. He dragged me to the sofa and pushed me down onto it, then went to the mini fridge, and pulled out a beer. He opened it, and drank a bit, put it on the floor, then turned to me. "Do you know why yah 'ere?" he asks me, his eyes piercing mine. "N-no," I stammer, scared senseless now that he has me in a place I've never seen, "Why?" "I'll give yah three guesses, queer," he sneers, and with that he sits down next to me, throws off his new shoes and then his socks, swivels so his back is resting against the arm of the sofa, and suddenly launches his foot at my face! It stops inches from my recoiling head, and then he says in a gruff voice "Smell it, I know yah wan' tah." I sniff, but only slightly. Then he shoves it further, and says again "Smell it!" This time, I take a great sniff, and the stench is overpoweringly awful. I nearly keel over right there. "Ahaheheh, tha's right, knock yerself out on it, yah li'l bitch." The verbal abuse coming from this guy was turning me on, and I took another sniff of his foot, to show my excitement. "Now lick it, bitch," he says, and shoves his foot harder into my face. I've no option but to lick. So lick I do. I lick from his heel up to his toes. I lick between each toe, carefully getting all the grit and dirt from between them. Then I put each toe in my mouth and suck on it, like a baby with a lolly. I slurp for what could've been hours, but was probably only minutes, moving from one toe to the next, until all his toes on that foot have been thoroughly bathed, and my mouth tastes of all the cheesy, gritty disgusting stuff that has been on his foot. Then he moves his foot away, and switches it for the other foot, where he lets me go to town on it. Once all of his toes have been cleaned, and the sole of his foot tongue-massaged, he pulls both away, getting up on his knees and moving over me, so he is facing me, with his legs on either side on mine. He places a hand on my head, and ruffles my hair like a dog, saying "Good boy" and sniggering. He then moves his other hand down to his pants, and begins unzipping. As he does this, the hand on top of my head moves down to my face, and slowly slides down it, closing my eyes as it passes, until his fingers pass my nose and brush against my lips. They stop at my mouth, where he carefully prises my lips apart and inserts his two forefingers, caressing my mouth, along both my cheeks, running his fingers across some of my teeth, and then pinching my tongue softly between them, feeling all over. When he releases my tongue, he pushes his fingers, slowly and deliberately towards the back of my mouth. He strokes my tongue gently as he goes, and I savour the taste of his smooth flesh. He reaches my throat, and I begin to gag slightly, but he pulls back swiftly, before I do. Then he even more carefully pushes back down, passing my gag reflex this time, and breaching my throat. At this point, I feel his other hand jacking his cock, but don't open my eyes, loving the intensity of it too much. He begins moving his now saliva-covered fingers back out of my throat, up to where I can taste them again, and then moves them back in. He does this for multiple minutes, just pumping very slowly, warming my throat up, relaxing my gag reflex. Eventually, his fingers move out, but keep going, until they are resting on my lips and finally pull away, a string of saliva stretching from my mouth to them. The feeling of his fingers is soon replaced, though, but by a different appendage. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I shall be putting Chris through some different fetish and sexual experiences (hence the name "Chris' Experiences") so if there is anything you wish to suggest, please do so. Possibly a way to tie it in with the story, be it in his past, present or future. Thank you! Emails will be happily received, criticisms, flames, junk mail, I don't care. Well, actually, not the junk mail. Feel free to request or suggest plot twists. Copyright 2010 Anuttymous All rights reserved by the author. This work may not be reproduced, except for personal use, without permission of the author. Reproduction for any other use is prohibited.