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The greatest mistake you could make, when you got a fetish like mine, is trying to hide it.
I've been married to Cynthia for 5 years, and I've never found the courage to tell her about my thing. At first I was thinking something like 'come on buddy, it's weird, this girl could be the right one, don't make her run away'. Now, on the other hand, I worry about her reaction: after all this time, you think you know any little secret about the person you're married to. And when you find out there's something else? How do you take it? In short, we're really happy together, but if I was a little bolder, we may be even better.
Cynthia is 34, like me. She's pretty, cheerful and damn sexy. She's about 5'5'', brunette, long curly hair and dark-eyed, dark complexion, she has nice boobs (size 3 full) and even better butt, first thing I noted when I met her, at a volley friendly mixed match organized by our mutual friends. She had obviosuly athletic shoes on, but I've decided anyway, without seeing her feet, she would be the woman of my life. Feeling immediately kicked in, shortly after we started to hang out, and today we're here. I can still remember the first time I've seen (and touched) her feet: after a date, she invited me up to her house. We were a little tipsy: she let me sit on the sofa and after she kicked her ankle boots out she placed her legs with stockings on over my thighs. "Ohhh, my feet hurt so bad!", she exclaimed removing her stockings and touching the ball of her foot. "Would you give me a little massage? If you're good at this I swear I'll marry you", she added laughing. I grabbed her 5,5 size feet. Not gonna lie: my wife's feet are simply divine. Soft, meaty, right length toes and two irresistible big toes. I don't know why I tried to conceal my thing, the fact is that I just made a good (very good) massage to her feet. Later, I didn't look for other opportunities to go deeper. Of course, after cohabitation and marriage, I had much more chances, like some foot scene watching a movie together or Cynthia putting her feet on my face to make me smell 'em, but always as a joke. Sometimes I caress and kiss 'em, but just as lovely gesture for a wife.
Last month I heard Cynthia talking on her phone locked in the bathroom, laughing: she seemed amused. When she got out, still smiling, I asked who was.
"Steve, tomorrow we got guests for dinner". What? We usually talk about things we're gonna do. I was a little surprised but I just asked who would come. "Do you remember Johnny? Well, he's in town, he told me he'd like to see me after all this time, so I invited him to dinner. Oh, he's happy to see you too, of course...". Obviously I remembered Johnny: he was a Cynthia's youth friend. She has always sworn they've been nothing more than friends, but I had my doubts. Howewer, he's long since living in UK for job (he's a claimed engineer) and much time has gone by. "Ok honey, no problem, tomorrow I'll go to buy groceries".
The next day Cynthia spent several hours cooking her speciality and fixing up the house. Johnny came at 7:30 PM: it's summer, so he was wearing a sand-colored linen shirt and white linen trousers. He's a little shorter than me (about 5'8'') but I have to say he's a good-looking man, with his tanned skin and his medium-length black hair. That night, Cynthia was radiant and irresistibile: she was wearing a clear floral dress and easy flip-flops. I noticed she had just white-painted her toenails. We spent a good time together, just like good old friends, eating, chatting and drinking a very good white wine, brought by Johnny. My wife and her friend were tipsy, for sure more than me. Maybe this is the cause of what would happen shortly after.
We sat on the sofa, always drinking wine. I had to go to the bathroom, so I left 'em alone for a few minutes. When I came back in the living room, at first from a distance I heard Cynthia laughing, then I saw this scene: my wife laying on the sofa with her legs on Johnny's and her feet in his hands. He was giving her a foot massage. When they saw me, while Cynthia suddenly changed her facial expression, Johnny remained calm. "Oh, Steve, you don't mind if I asked Johnny a little foot massage, right? I've spent the whole day standing and now I'm exhausted". "Besides", added Johnny, laughing, "when we were kids I used to do it so many times!". Cynthia started again to laugh. I was feeling confused as never before. Maybe I had to get angry: yes, they have been drinking a lot, but who cares? Another man was touching an intimate (very, very intimate, to me) part of my wife's body. But, I don't know how to say it, I was finding that scene so intriguing. I chose to stay calm, sitting on a nearby little sofa, looking at 'em. Meanwhile, Johnny was keeping his job on: he alternated Cynthia's left and right foot in his hands. My wife seemed totally chilled out: actually, Johnny' hands knew very well her feet. After about ten minutes of massaging, Johnny moved to next level: he put Cynthia's feet to his face and started to kiss her soles and toes. "Mmmhhh they're soft as ever but smell has changed", he said, "now they smell of...a mature married woman! Eheheh!". "You stupid!", replied Cynthia kicking his face, for fun, laughing even louder. She looked at me, perhaps trying to catch my thoughts. She could think I was finding it a pretty normal, maybe a little malicious game she was doing with her youth friend. After all, to her husband feet could be a normal (indeed a little disgusting) body's part. The truth is I was having a war inside me: my pride was saying to stop 'em and beat the crap out of that guy; my cock, already erected, was saying it was all so fuckin' hot, for some damn reason. So I let 'em keep on, to see where they would get.
Johnny was already without brakes. I could hear him moaning while he was starting to lick Cynthia's soles and suck her horny toes. She was looking a little embarassed yet she let him do that. Indeed, she began to breath heavier, just like when we dry hump. "Oh, Johnny, take it easy", she tried to say, with little breath, "My husband's just here...". He stopped. He looked at me. "I now he's here. What's the problem? We're just messing around!. Do you mind Steve?". A mental healthy person would reply getting up and punching his face like a beast. But I just didn't know what to say. I didn't want to look like an asshole, but I wanted they would go on. So I just shrugged and said: "Well, if it's ok for Cynthia...no problem."
But as you can imagine, the scene has a development: while Johnny was starting again to kiss, lick and worship my wife's feet, Cynthia's right foot dropped and touched unintentionally (?) Johnny's family jewells. "Oh my God, what was that?", she asked her, opening her eyes wide. "You know what it is", he answered, taking down his trousers, "you know him!". My wife's friend pulled out of his pants a huge (I mean, huge) cock. "Have you missed him? Do you remember him like this?". Enough is enough. What pissed me off so bad was, not so much he pulled out his dick in front of my wife, shaking it ahead of her face, but above all the fact Cynthia lied me shamelessly. Before, not only he used to give her foot massages, but they used to fuck as hell. I was getting so angry with her. I got up and tapped Johnny's shoulder: "Now I think you're out of line". "Keep calm honey", tried to say a very embarrassed Cynthia. But in her eyes I was seeing not only awkwardness, but a genuine excitement, "we're just playing...maybe it was the wine". "Oh, come on man", replied Johnny, now more aggressive, "you know your wife goes crazy for this big boy, and you're no match". I was being humiliated in front of my wife. But even at that moment, my cock was up. Maybe this is the definition of cuckold , I thought. Completely dazed for my wife's eyes and Johnny's words, I came back to sofa. "Where were we?", said Johnny to Cynthia. And took her feet, putting on his cock. "Oh baby, he missed your feet, too".
Cynthia looked at me. This time there was grudge in her eyes. She expected her husband would react in a different way. So it turned out in an act of revenge. Always staring at me, she started to scramble Johnny's big dick with her to-die-for feet. Johnny began to moan and breath heavily. I was watching another man doing what I've never had the courage to do to my wife and her feet. After several strokes, Johnny took her foot off of his cock and put 'em on his face. Then, he took Cynthia's right hand putting it around his dick. He started again to lick and kiss greedly my wife's soles, while she was switching to a handjob. A savage yell anticipated the end: an oceanic cumshot came out from his cock, hitting all over my wife: her legs, her floreal dress, her face too. Finally, after he came, he grabbed her feet and used 'em to dry his big glans. He got up, went to the bathroom, thanked us for the nice time and left. Cynthia was still on the sofa, overwhelmed by Johnny's jizz. I was on the little sofa, and I had just came too, even if nobody noticed.
It's been a few weeks: Johnny has come back to UK and something has already changed between me and Cynthia. Anytime she calls me, I do best to answer immediately. Whatever she asks me, I do best to do what she says. Otherwise, my wife's threat is to take home every night a different man, to let him fuck her feet in front of me. I've become my wife's slave.
You should have hit him square in the nose with all your weight behind it. Grabbed him by his neck, dragged him through your house and threw him to the curb.
Then, rip into your wife for lying. She has a lot of making up to do.
You just lost ALL respect from your wife.
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My story is more humiliating than embarrassing. I knew some of the girls I went with to the beach were jealous of me, because I looked sexier than them in bikini. Over heard them saying "look at her flaunting her stuff in a string bikini" Having guys and even their own boyfriends looking at me didn't sit very well. I'm sure most of them were glad to see my bikini stripped off. I was sun bathing face down with my top strings undone, when some b****** picked me up off the sand by arms and legs. Never saw them coming. Found myself dangling in mid air with my t*** hanging out and bottom slipping off between my thighs. Hung there nude with girls telling them to turn me over, while guys got a free t** and p**** show. Bared it all that day and the fact that I was totally shaved down there and so spread out, I think I even showed off my c*** . Must have seen it, because I could feel my p**** lips wide open. The degrading part of it, was that it all was disguised as a friendly prank and almost had to laugh about it. The truth was I felt publicly humiliated and sexually assaulted, just to thrill everyone's sexual de
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