One of the world’s most well-known fetishes is the foot fetish. Often accompanied by a strong desire to see women’s feet strapped into stilettos resembling bondage gear, the foot fetish is also perhaps the most easily indulged for those who do not share in its delight.
The first time I met a foot fetishist was in Times Square. I was stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light at a busy street to change, when an older man stopped me to ask if I could take off my shoe. I was wearing a pair of slip-on loafers, along with some black knee-high stockings, and I asked if he meant here, now, on the street. He nodded, saying he wanted to see my foot. I wasn’t sure what on earth could be of interest to him about my stocking-clad foot, since you couldn’t actually see my foot through the opaque material, but I slipped my left loafer off and pointed my toes down at the concrete to indulge him.
The look of pure joy on his face was priceless.
And then the light changed, so I slipped my loafer back on and began to cross the street.
“Thank you!” he called after me, as I strode off.
I’m pretty sure that simple and—to me—completely non-sexual act made his night. Perhaps he continues to access that memory in his spank-bank to this very day. Who knows?
I do know that whenever I receive a vigorous foot massage from a lover, I am very eager to please. Some say this is because the pleasure centers for the foot and the genitals are next-door neighbors in the brain. That would explain a lot.
Happy Fetish Friday, foot lovers.