Beautifulfeetonline.com

I had went into this store when I was in high school, in the middle of a small town and where nothing really special went on. It was the late 80′s, sounds of Duran Duran and The Thompson Twins pervaded the airwaves. I was burning inside, I just wanted to smell women’s feet, I didn’t care where, I didn’t care how. I would go into stores and pretend that I was a pledge for a fraternity, a fraternity what never existed. I was seventeen and didn’t care… I went into an arts and crafts store pretending to look around, there was a middle aged woman behind the counter and she looked at me warily as I lazily checked out the knitting and painting supplies.
“Can I help you?”, she asked in a bored tone. “No, I’m just waiting for someone”, I sheepishly said. I continued to look around. She had to ask me more about what I am waiting for I thought as I continued to look around, pretending to be interested in the arts and crafts. After about 10 minutes, curiosity got the better of her and she asked who I was waiting for. “Score!” I thought as I went through my spill of how I was a pledge for a fraternity and I was meeting a girl who was going to put me through my final test. She threw her head back and laughed, “What is the final test, sweetheart?” I told her that the girl I was expecting was going to make me smell her feet for about 10 minutes. She gasped and a sly smile came across her face. “My word, and you would do that?” she exclaimed. “Oh yes” I said, I went into the explanation that I really wanted to be a frat boy and would do whatever it took. There, of course was no woman who was going to be coming in, it was all made up. I waited there for about 1/2 and hour and tried to visibly look more depressed as time went on. “Well I can write that I let you smell my feet if you want”, she said. I was so happy, we had made small talk in the 1/2 hour and I was no more of a threat to her than anyone else who might have come into her quaint little store that day. Her hair was dyed red and she had beautiful makeup and accented the light, baby blue of her eyeshadow with a bright red lipstick that was skillfully applied to her full red lips. She had a smattering of freckles, she must have truly been beautiful when she was younger. Big baby feeding breasts that barely fit under the blue blouse that she was wearing. I readily agreed, I said that it was important to me that I earned my entrance into the fraternity. I was passionate about it.
She thought for a second, staring off into space and then told me that if I could keep a secret that she guessed that she could let me smell her’s under the counter. She warned me more than several times that she had been on her feet since 8 a.m., and it was now about 5 in the afternoon. She was wearing a nude color of cheap store bought pantyhose to boot and she has said that her black heels were about 5 years old and they made her feet stink. I told her that I would try the best that I could to tolerate the smell and she guided me to come behind the counter and kneel down. There wasn’t a soul in the store and she slipped her heels off and said “I have pretty feet though”, smiling broadly. They were very pretty indeed. Her toenails wee painted a bright red and she had a gold toe ring on the second toe of her right foot. She pointed her toes out toward me and I cupped them reverently in my hands. As I examined them, agreeing with her that her feet were beautiful and very pretty, I got my first whiff of her foot odor. It was sweet and bitter at the same time, her feet smelled like peaches. This was going to be great, I thought. she asked me to kneel down so any customer that may come in would not see me servicing her pantyhose clad feet.
I kneeled down and she waved her left foot teasingly over my face. I got a taste of her feminine foot odor then. The bottoms of her feet were wet. She fed me her feet one at a time for a couple of minutes, then she said that it may be more comfortable to me if I laid down on my back. I thanked her and did as she asked. She giggled as said that she was timing me. Only now, when she planted both of her sweaty feet over my face, did I get the full effect of her smelly feet. Her nametag read “Susan”. I was in heaven. She started talking about when she was in a sorority, which was in the 60′s. She must have been in her late 40′s then, I concluded. The more this situation went on, the more comfortable she seemed to be with the situation. She asked me if I could breathe, as she laughed, cocking her head to one side. I said it was fine. She also asked me if I thought her feet smelled good as she was rubbing her pantyhosed feet, wet with her sweat, on my face. I thanked her again and said it was fine. She announced “5 more minutes, your almost done” as she continued to rub her feet across my face. She seemed to examine her pedicure as she crunched and spread her toes. Her soles were firmly planted over my nose, but I could feel her muscles working and looking over to her toes, could see that this was what she was doing. Pantyhose worship at it’s finest. This is when I started getting into pantyhose worship and nylon worship. Maybe even this one encounter, really setting things off for me. I gently placed my hand over the tops of her feet and gently rubbed them. Feeling the warm nylon and smelling Susan’s sweaty feet, I was in heaven. She looked down at me smiling broadly, and looking at me, almost in a motherly tone. She then announced “2 minutes”, she took her left foot and placed it on my forehead and took her right foot and tilted it to the left and spread her toes and cupped them over my nose. “This foot is the smelliest”, she said, giggling and cupping her toes hard, so hard that I had to start breathing out of my mouth to get oxygen. “Sniff, sniff”, she chuckled, staring down at me with the sweetest look on her face. I breathed deeply, breathing in the essence of this woman’s perfection. …And it was over.
I got up, knees trembling, 1/2 hard and stood up. “Eww, I can smell my feet on your face”, she wrinkled her nose at me and I breathlessly thanked her. “Oh anytime dear”, she squealed. I left the store, trying my best to keep my composure. Into the sultry evening that followed, making sure to keep Susan’s feet smell on my face until I got home and could masturbate to what had just been one of the best days of my teen life.