Tag: feet

he uncurled his toes round the shaft, instead using the heft of his feet

Miles brung his other foot up to meet Buck’s jizz-flowing shaft then, and he used the meaty bottom of both feet to stroke it — he uncurled his toes round the shaft, instead using the heft of his feet. Both of ’em was working hard, like they was trampling his dong the best they could with both he and him sitting down.

Buck’s thirteen-inch cock throbbed and spewed jizz into his unkempt pubic hair, as Miles’s delicate li’l-man foot rocked up and down the shaft. A mumbly moan came outta Buck’s lungs. Miles’s toes curled round it.
“Oh yeah, Buck, love that cock…” Miles murmured, like he don’t wanna wake Buck up.
A gurgle came outta Buck’s throat when he tried-a say sump’in. He flopped one his mega-arms ’round, baring one armpit, but he ain’t got the coordination to do nuttin’ with it. The smell of his pit hair filled his nostrils. Miles’s nostrils too, but Buck wrinkled his nose, while Miles inhaled deep of the scent.
Miles brung his other foot up to meet Buck’s jizz-flowing shaft then, and he used the meaty bottom of both feet to stroke it — he uncurled his toes round the shaft, instead using the heft of his feet. Both of ’em was working hard, like they was trampling his dong the best they could with both he and him sitting down.
Another spurt of cum spewed onto Buck’s chest. His whole body twitched and tensed, and the motion made him queasy even as an orgasm rocked his body. “Heeeeyy’aaaaahhhh…” Buck waved his arms ’round in protest.

From Buck on Bottom

Buck got big clodhopping feet

“You kept clean in there? Take off ya boots, sugah. Lemme make sh’ore you ain’t bringin’ the athlete’s foot,” Mistah Yancey said. But then b’for’n Buck could do so, Mistah Yancey bent o’er and undid Buck’s boot laces. T’woulda been easier fer Buck to do it, but Mistah Yancey gently pulled the boots off, then his socks. He hefted Buck’s foot, one after t’other, but Buck did the work of lifting his legs. Buck got big clodhopping feet with a strip of black hairs running up the top and a tuft of hair upon each toe. The toe tufts growed smaller but no sparser from the big toes to the li’l ones. Mistah Yancey wrinkled his nose, but he inhaled with gusto and don’t move away none.

From Buck on Bottom

Blacksmith’s feet

He planted his tongue on the bare top of Goldforge’s left foot, and Miles let out a moan as the taste of footy funk assaulted his senses. Even before his tongue touched the foot, he could taste it and smell it, the freshly sweated scent ramming into him, bringing tears to his eyes.
The sweat had poured over his foot when he wore those boots, and now it was slick all over. Miles slathered every inch with his tongue. He spat up on to the top of the foot and then sucked his spit down, gasping at how deliciously nasty the taste was — it tasted like stale spit and a locker room and a bit of cum.
Miles’s nose pressed into the layer of hair on top of Goldforge’s foot — he had moved onto the fresh right foot, and this time, he didn’t lick the whole thing. He savored it, dragging it out. He just licked the hairy top surface of the foot, getting up all the sweat that was there before he moved onto the toes.
He loved toes. The cracks between the toes was delightful, it was where sweat collected and never went away. So Miles could taste everything Goldforge had done since the last time he bathed — which was weeks ago. He could taste the hours he spent in the forge and the metal he had worked over and over; he tasted scorching sparks and moist, mildewy fur boots, and spilled lager and whiskey.
As he moved on to the bottom of Goldforge’s foot, licking up all the dirt that clung to his skin, Miles’s eyes roamed upward. He had to laugh at the shocked look on Goldforge’s face.
“Zanzibar’s axe!” Goldforge said with an annoyed grunt. He hadn’t expected this to feel good. “You are… You are licking my feet?”
From The Filthiest Alphas in Boots, Sneakers and Sandals

Prison slippers

He kissed Francesco’s left foot, right on the toes — he wore loose-fitting prison slippers, his knobbly hairy toes protruding because the slippers were too small for him, just like his pants. He had crude feet like an ogre, just like his face, which Miles adored. There was visible dirt on his toes, and his nails were disgusting — again, that was something Miles adored.
“Oh… Okay.” Francesco chuckled nervously. “You into my feet?”
Miles nodded. Those slippers tasted like steel and soil, with a little foot funkiness underneath all that. Miles pulled them both off. Francesco plopped down on the staircase. He stretched his long legs to give Miles easy access.

From The Filthiest Alphas in Boots, Sneakers and Sandals