Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes.
What about Feet?
I always knew feet were a thing.
The movies had it when there was kinky sex. BDSM, ties, cuffs, feet in heels, and a Domme stepping on a guy with a collar crawling on the carpet.
One would say, it was a cliche — a joke, than in real life.
“I like feet,” said a Korean guy whom I met on Ometv random vid chat.
It began as a game — the Byeontae Game. Ten sex questions, he and I. And one of those questions I’d ask from the get-go was what his fetish was.
Most fetishes weren’t much. Even the feet were so-so, until I dug my toes deeper.
“You have pretty feet,” one guy said after I sent some pics of my feet. I aim to please and every time a guy told me what he liked, I tried to accommodate. After all, I was a flasher at heart, right?
“What is pretty feet? Veins? Thinness? Thickness? With or without shoes?” I had flat feet, i.e. no arches but he said I was pretty. Well, my feet and toes bent well. Was judgment based on how well I flex? With boobs, it was easier to judge. Big is usually better. Perky, pointy nipples are yes-es and everyone loves a big bullseye.
“I don’t know. I just like them,” he said.
“I’ll buy shoes for you,” said Aussie. That guy had specific goals to meet. Older than me by five years, his bucket list was kind of checked off, except it wasn’t I who he wanted that got it done. Aussie didn’t get his baby koala, and till this day, I wondered if it bugged him. Story to come later.
“Dude, no,” I said. “I don’t wear heels.”
“You’ll look good in it. Five-inch with a tight, leather strap-on, black corset, and sexy stockings. You’ll be perfect,” Aussie said.
“Sure. I know I’ll look good, but no heels.”
“What about heeled boots?” he said, sharing the shopping cart pics he found. “I’ll buy you these. What’s your size? You can wear them while I doggy pound you from the back. We can make such beautiful movies with them.”
“You wish,” I replied. He knew he wasn’t my type but being the sneaky guy, he slipped through the cracks asking for Fit Checks and advice on how to hook a hot Asian MILF. All lies and naughty tricks as I got to know him.
He even went so far as to change his insta account and put a hot pic of a Korean guy on his insta profile, and a Korean name just so I could pretend he was the type I liked. Okay, that Korean guy's pic was really cute.
Aussie didn’t have trouble getting the girls. He was white, tall, a successful Executive of a famous company, and still had defined abs and bright blue eyes. Any Asian girl who had a White fetish would throw herself at him. Till he talks about pegging and then maybe convos stall.
“I’ll buy you this,” another guy said. A twenty-four-year-old Korean American student searching the branded sites showed me a pair of Louboutin black heels with red bottom soles.
“Dude, save your money,” I said. “I don’t wear heels. I’m clumsy, I’ll fall.”
“But you’ll look so good in them and with your sexy lingerie…” he sighed loudly. “And something about heels makes me go crazy horny.”
“When did you know you like feet and heels?” I asked. Storytime was coming.
When I first met AC on Bumble, one of the first few chats he said was that his mom ran away when he was a kid. It was a weird way to start a conversation with a stranger and thinking back I wondered if he did that so he’d get sympathy or maybe he was hinting how he had a mommy-complex.
“When I was in college, I stayed with a Korean mom and her son. Her son was older than me, working. My landlord was renting out her rooms and cooking for college boarders. We were close, and sometimes go on vacation together.”
“Okay?” I’m puzzled at the delay in juicy bits.
“She always asks me for fashion advice and I’ll tell her what to wear.”
“How old was she?” I asked.
“Maybe in her forties? Her son is thirty,” He said.
“Dude, she is older. In her fifties probably. Even how young she had him, there’s no way she was in her late forties. Unless…”
Damn. This woman was a fox. Even a blind person would know where this story was going. I could see this miles away. Tropes everywhere.
He smiled. We often vid chat in a platonic way because he needed my help with his school work and I was curious at this nice, friendly Korean guy who wasn’t after my boobs or body the minute we got out of the dating apps.
We talked for about a week. A long time coming, in my life of fast sex. Even my potential FWBs would have had a taste by then. At least, there should be a sexy reveal on my side or the guy’s.
“I like lingerie,” he said. Finally, the cub was revealing his teeth.
“I have lots of lingerie,” I said. He didn’t know about my naughty insta but he’d seen some of my pictures and I’d talked about my Byeontae book so he knew.
“So, I’d graduated from college and was going back to pick up my stuff. She was waiting for me in a sexy silk robe, lingerie, and black heels.”
“Nice. She planned it,” I said.
“She did?” He was surprised.
“Dude. Of course, she did. You think she’d be walking around the house like that?” Sometimes I didn’t get him. He was one of those complicated people with a baggage of history.
“So we were standing at the kitchen counter and she reached over and touched my chest and then grabbed my belt. She said she always wanted to sleep with me but we were landlord and tenant but now we are not.”
“Ah. Of course. Can’t cross the line,” I said. He was taking too long. “And?”
“I stood there and she pulled my pants and underwear down and sucked me.”
“Woah. That’s hot,” I said.
“Yeah. Hottest thing I’d ever experienced,” he said.
He had to do it. Riled me up. Stirred that pot which made me who I was. The MILF was feeling competitive, and maybe that was when I knew I had to nail this kid.
Everything he said after was hot but wasn’t unexpected. Slim mom-type Korean woman age fifties and above, wearing lingerie and heels wasn’t that special, in my opinion. Maybe to him she was everything or someone he could get.
“Why didn’t you meet her again?” There was some time before she left for a different city. He was working at home. They could have met again.
He ignored my question. “Her heels were so sexy. I kept coming and stayed hard,” he told me again and again. Once again, I was compelled to buy a pair of shoes just to prove I was better.
When we finally consummated. It was as I expected. He cummed before me and I had to masturbate to orgasm after. I wore heels to bed, and he showed he was into them.
I would have given him that pair but changed my mind when he had his post-nut after. Worried that for some reason that he was betraying H, who laughed after hearing about it.
“What’s wrong with that boy? He felt guilty? What the fuck?” H laughed. “How can he not fuck you again? You were together all night. Where do you find such people?”
I hated being laughed at, especially by H. Our sex with others, to me, was a competition, and the fact that I couldn’t have sleepover sex because my track record of guys’ sleeping over-involved all sleeping, no sex, and no breakfast either, was a sore point of contention.
“Have you seen this type of sex?” Another Korean guy - fashion purchaser sent me a picture of a girl holding a guy’s dick with her feet.
“Why are you chatting with me?” I asked him. “You are into fashion. You probably fuck lots of models.”
“I do. But I like all women, and you have a big, beautiful ass,” the Fashion guy said.
“True. I do. But you like feet,” I said.
“I like lots of things. Feet, armpits, ass, big breasts. Everything about a woman is sexy.”
“So you want this?” I stared at the photograph. It was his cock in there. Purple from too much blood. He probably did it too many times but what as most interesting were the cute pair of white feet and her toes holding his dick up high.
“Can you masturbate like that?” He asked.
“Sure. I think so,” I replied. Even with my weak left foot, flexing like that looked easy-peasy.
“And what do I get?” I asked. The MILF needed something back. These days, hot young men weren’t enough. I got that in abundance, and I was tired of teaching and training these vanilla guys.
“I’ll fuck you really hard and very good,” he said.
“That’s nothing. Of course you should and you will.”
“Give me something I don’t have,” I said.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I have to think about it. Something money can’t buy,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“If I knew I won’t be talking to you,” I said.
Of course sweet words were cheaper than a dime. The last I spoke to him, he’d showed me a picture of a woman with the world largest real boobs that I’d seen.
“Don’t suffocate,” I gave a grinning emoticon. “Take some vids, I want to see.”
“We’ll trade,” he said.
The fashion guy and I became a pair of byeontae pals, sharing crazy pics and vids and out-daring each other. Truth was we were both chickens. Hot air balloons saying stuff but never doing it. As for feet, I figured it was psychological. Something about going from the bottom up, dirty little boy stuff.
A Dom wouldn’t do that. Leave it to the Subs to like sex this way. If it was a Dom. The girl would be on the floor begging for scraps.
So, what was I? I may look like a Mommy but I’m really that puppy licking toes.