A gay story: His Old Boots Ch. 04 Ben tossed and turned all night long, dreaming of big feet and big boots, and craving George’s sweaty cock and balls more than anything in the world. He edged himself to the image of George’s fat bulge and then fell asleep, only to wake up later and keep touching himself – he was fairly obsessed.
The next morning he took a long shower before work and kept thinking about what had happened. He could not believe he had been stuck in a car with three big men and their big sweaty feet, and was even forced to kiss them. Phil and Mike had been hot dudes during high school, but like George, they were still handsome and carried a strong alpha energy, with their manly faces and big strong bodies. Ben had to admit they were even hotter now in their thirties.
He tried to listen to music and distract himself from the intrusive thoughts of big feet, but he could not stop reflecting on the possible repercussions of what he was doing. What if George’s buddies spread rumors about him? What if the men at the construction site now all knew of his secret weakness? He could not bear thinking about it, so he decided to trust George.
A few days passed and Ben was busy at work. He went out with friends, went shopping and tried to forget his instincts for a while. When he least expected, he received a cheeky message from George and his heart started throbbing uncontrollably.
“Miss my big feet?”
His mouth drooled a little and he tried to hide his boner in front of his friends. He tried to act normal and quickly typed a reply.
“Yes, sir.”
A minute later, his phone vibrated again.
“Me and the boys are showing up at your place Saturday, to watch the game. Be prepared.”
Ben almost had a little heart attack.
“The boys? What do you mean? Phil and Mike?”
“Yes, dummy. Get ready to serve and worship feet.”
Ben blushed and started shaking.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he typed.
“Because you’re a foot fag,” replied George.
His dick twitched uncomfortably inside his pants and he put the phone back in his pocket. He spent the rest of the evening thinking about George and his audacity.
The rest of the week passed slowly and when Saturday morning came, Ben woke up earlier and tidied up the house and took a long shower. He observed his average lean body in the bathroom mirror and decided to shave some of the body hair and get rid of the growing stubble on his face as well. The result was a clean, symmetrical look which complimented his blond hair.
The men showed up at around 3 p.m. – Ben heard the doorbell ring and quickly ran to open the door. George stood there with a big smile on his bearded face; his tall, massive body in a stretched-out white T-shirt and brown pants, and his old boots. Phil and Mike stood behind him. Phil wore a polo shirt that made his bulky torso look incredibly juicy, some beige cargo shorts and brown flip flops. Ben’s dick started to twitch as soon as he saw the man’s big, hairy toes. Phil wiggled them playfully and smiled with his dirty, smug face.
“What’s up, foot boy?” asked Phil in a humorous tone.
Ben trembled and blushed a little.
“Uh… good afternoon, sirs,” he said meekly.
“Sirs! I like that,” said Mike. He smirked and that made his feral gaze look more charismatic.
Mike wore a white tank top that was stretched out by his big beer belly – his wide juicy chest was clearly hairy underneath the fabric – he also wore cargo shorts with camouflage patterns and black flip flops, exposing his massive feet. His tall, fat and muscular frame was somehow intimidating.
“Are you ready to serve big feet?” asked George as he walked into the living room. The other men chuckled.
“Whether he’s ready or not, he will serve big stinky feet,” said Phil in his thick country accent.
Phil and Mike sat on the large couch and spread their big, hairy legs comfortably. George sat on the recliner and raised his big boots in the air, and grabbed the controller.
“Yeah, he will serve real men like the good footboy he is,” provoked George, smirking confidently. He turned on the sports channel and relaxed in his seat.
“Bring us something to drink, buddy,” said Mike.
“Yeah, where’s the beer, foot fairy?” Phil placed a foot on the coffee table and wiggled his toes provokingly. “It better be extra cold.”
“Yes, sir, right away,” said Ben. He walked nervously into the kitchen and grabbed the beer cans in the freezer. Part of him could not believe this was happening, but now it was too late to stop.
The men took large sips of their beers and burped casually, and talked about work for a while. Ben stood in the corner timidly and waited. He felt misplaced, as if he was the woman in a room full of dirty men. The game started a few minutes later and the men started watching and shouting words at the flat screen.
George looked at Ben after a while and winked, and then pointed to the floor near his seat. Ben slowly kneeled and sat on the floor next to him, and quietly waited. He couldn’t help but notice George had not removed his boots yet, while Phil and Mike were already out of their flip flops and crossed their legs over the coffee table.
“More beer, buddy,” said Phil after a while.
“How about a sandwich, boys?” asked George.
“Hell yeah,” Mike slapped his big bear belly loudly and burped like a pig. Everyone laughed.
“Get to work, Ben.” George patted Ben on the head.
Ben blushed and felt a little angry, but he could not hide his excitement as well. As he stood up and walked to the kitchen, he heard a comment about his boner and the men chuckled. Unfortunately, his dick twitched pathetically the more the men played with him and ordered him around in the most natural way. George had clearly influenced his buddies to dominate Ben somehow, and Ben was beginning to find that idea extremely arousing. He made three big ham sandwiches and grabbed more beer cans from the fridge.
He served the men eagerly and sat down on the floor again, and quietly heard them eat and drink for the next hour. The men spread their legs wider and became more and more comfortable in his house, and the more beer he brought from the kitchen, the louder their laughs became. Ben felt suddenly happy they were all so relaxed and comfortable, and progressively drunk…
“Hey, foot boy,” Phil suddenly snapped his fingers. “Give me a foot rub, will ya?”
Ben crawled silently in front of the coffee table and gazed upon Phil’s massive soles and long toes. He could suddenly sense a light hint of foot sweat, the kind you have when you wear flip flops outside. He blushed and his heart beat faster.
“Come on, don’t be shy,” encouraged Phil, waving his right foot and getting his big red sole closer to Ben’s nose.
Ben had to admit to himself he felt very shy at that moment, beneath all the impressive and vulgar masculinity in front of him. He would never have dreamed of touching Phil’s feet, and it all felt like a dream. He grabbed the big soles with both hands and felt the casual warmth and the rough texture on his fingers, and his heart slowly melted. He blushed a little more and started rubbing them eagerly, using his knuckles on the heels and his thumb to make circular movements over the soft spots.
“That’s it, that feels good,” Phil placed his hands behind his head and relaxed more on the couch. “You’re pretty good at this.”
“Yeah, he’s great at rubbing feet,” said George with an evil grin. “He’s been practicing a lot his entire life. Right, Ben?”
“Uh… yes, sir. I’ve been watching tutorials on YouTube…” replied Ben casually.
The men laughed and Phil patted his head approvingly.
“Good boy. You like rubbing big men’s feet, don’t ya?”
“Yes, sir, I have to admit I do,” replied Ben, causing more laughs.
“Why is that? Do you have foot fag genes or something?” asked George.
Mike chuckled and his big belly bounced up and down.
“It’s genetic! It probably runs in the family. His father and grandfather are part of a long lineage of foot-rubbing fags,” said Mike while waving his hairy toes threateningly under Ben’s nose.
As the three men laughed and relaxed on their seats, Ben’s dick twitched and throbbed with the smell of Mike’s toes – they also had a scent of sweaty flip flops, but the smell was stronger and a little muddy, while Phil’s country feet were cheesier and slightly more pleasant.
“His face kinda says ‘foot fag’ to be honest,” said Phil.
“Yeah, I agree. It’s something about his pleading eyes and open mouth,” observed George while waving his boots in the air.
“Rub my feet, foot slut!” shouted Mike all of a sudden.
Ben quickly moved from Phil’s big red soles to Mike’s incredibly massive, sweaty heels and arched feet. He slid his fingers in between Mike’s toes and the man gasped and smiled, putting his hands behind his head and exposing his big, hairy armpits in his white tank top.
“Yeah, that feels kinda good,” said Mike with a feral gaze. “Keep sliding your fingers back and forth, that’s it. Don’t mind the toe jam.”
Ben spent the next thirty minutes rubbing Mike’s toes and big heels, and then going back to Phil’s soles and giving them another circular rub. He was only allowed to stop once, to bring more beers and some lemon juice for Mike.
He looked at George’s boots several times and waited patiently, but George was distracted laughing and watching the game. Then finally, when the game ended and George’s team had won, he looked at Ben and grinned.
“I have a big surprise for you,” said George and he waved his boots in the air. “Come here, come closer,” he provoked.
Phil and Mike chuckled and looked at each other knowingly.
Ben gulped and stared at George’s worn-out, brown boots in front of him and he suddenly remembered how obsessed he was with his friend’s feet and foot stink.
“I’ve been cooking a special meal for you, buddy,” said George mysteriously, and then pulled Ben by the head, just an inch from his shoes. “Can you smell it?”
“Fuck…” whined Ben all of a sudden. He finally noticed a funny hint in the air.
Phil and Mike laughed.
“Can you smell it now, buddy? Three days, buddy,” sang Ben. “Three days without washing them.”
“Oh, fuck… please, don’t…” begged Ben all of a sudden.
“Yeees, foot bitch. I haven’t washed my feet in three fucking days,” provoked George. “I don’t know what happened… I kinda forgot. My wife almost made me sleep on the couch,” George grinned and his buddies laughed more.
Ben wished he could beg and try to explain to George that was almost crossing the line, but he knew at that point he did not have a choice. His face burned and his stomach turned a little, just with the slight hint of cheese that was coming from inside those dirty old things.
Yet, part of him wanted to find out how far he could go. If George’s foot stink was so bad after a long day, how brutal would it be after three long days of work under the sun?
“And even worse, I forgot to wear socks on all three of them,” noted George.
“Damn, you pig!” said Phil. “I think I wanna go home.”
“And lose the foot fag’s reaction?” asked Mike, laughing. “Come on, George, fuck him up! Make the bitch choke!”
“Yeah, you silly fag,” provoked George, slapping Ben’s face with his soles. “Are you ready to faint?!” he shouted.
“Sir… please…” whined Ben.
“Aaaw! Sir!” mocked Mike. “Come on, George, take them off. Make him faint!”
“Yeah, take them off!” encouraged Phil. “Make him regret being a fucking foot fag.”
George grabbed both boots and pulled them off in one quick motion, creating a nasty, wet “plop” sound, and his feet landed right in Ben’s face, to his utter shock.
The strongest foot stench Ben had ever experienced suddenly hit him. It flooded his nostrils and made his eyes water immediately. It was incredibly strong, manly and cheesy, with a strong layer of testosterone, concentrated to the highest degree. George pressed his wet, burning-hot soles against his face and forced him to take it. Ben opened his mouth in awe and suddenly felt the salty and spicy taste in his mouth, and he choked pathetically.
The men guffawed and pinched their noses, and watched in disbelief as George rubbed his soles all over Ben’s face.
“Sniff! Fucking sniff, bitch!” shouted George. “Yeah, that’s it, sniff hard, faggot. You better show my feet the respect they deserve!”
Ben whined and cried a little, and deeply inhaled. The absolute stench broke his resistance slowly, penetrating his brain, tranquilizing him with powerful waves, until he moaned and begged for mercy.
“Oh, please, George, they stink so bad!” he cried.
“Sniff harder, faggot! Now!” said George sternly. “Here, sniff that!” he forced Ben’s nose into the gap between his big toe and index toe. “Come on… I’m gonna count to three and you will take a big sniff. One… two… three…”
Ben inhaled with all the strength he had left, and the smell almost knocked him out.
“Yeah! That’s it! Keep sniffing that rich, premium cheese,” encouraged George.
Phil and Mike lost their breaths laughing.
“Now start licking. You better clean that fucking toe jam, faggot. I didn’t skip shower for nothing…”
Ben whined and reluctantly slid his tongue between every individual toe. He kept choking and the funny sounds were making the men laugh. George’s toe jam and foot sweat were like an extra salty sauce, a deep flavor that possessed him deeply. He licked and sucked the toes for an eternity, and then gulped and started licking the hot soles and rubbing the callouses that had formed on the edges.
Mike suddenly grabbed him by the neck and shoved his big right foot in his mouth.
“Gag on it, fag!” he shouted in a mean-spirited tone. “If only I knew you were a foot pig in high school… imagine how much fun we would have!”
Mike grabbed his hair and choked him several times with his right foot, and then forced him to lap his left sole. Phil suddenly shoved his toes in his mouth and he started gagging on that big country foot as Mike slapped his cheeks with both soles. The two men bullied his face for a while, forcing him to switch from sole to sole, from toe to toe, and rubbing their toes on his face repeatedly until it was all wet.
“Choke on big feet, faggot!” shouted Phil.
“Suck big toes, foot bitch!” shouted Mike.
“Yeah, sniff that foot stink, slut!” provoked George.
Ben sniffed and sucked their soles desperately, lost in a foot-worshiping trance.
“Now go wash that dirty mouth, and bring more beer,” commanded George, and he started switching between channels.
Ben stood up for the first time in an hour and walked into the kitchen. His legs were shaking and his ears were burning. He washed his mouth and face in the sink for a minute, but he could not get rid of all the smell. When he walked back into the living room with beer bottles in his hands, his heart skipped a beat.
The men stared in disbelief at the flat screen, as a blond porn star had her pussy ravaged by three big cocks. “Shit,” he thought – George had found his straight porn collection.
“Ben, I thought you were gay,” said George, grinning.
“I… I’m sorry…” said Ben meekly.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” said Phil playfully. “That’s some high quality porn, buddy.”
George looked at Ben inquisitively.
“I like watching straight porn once in a while…” explained Ben.
“Oh yeah? Do you identify with the slut?” asked Mike, making everyone laugh. “There’s no need to reply, we know the answer.”
“Sirs, I…”
“Sit down, Ben,” said George impatiently. “Give me that bottle.”
Ben offered one bottle of beer to each man and sat on the floor.
“Come on, keep rubbing our feet,” ordered George.
Ben obeyed. He kept rubbing and massaging the men’s feet equally, switching from pair to pair, as they became more and more drunk and made comments about the content they were watching. Ben finally noticed they all had big boners as they stared at the submissive bombshell being gangbanged in high definition.
Ben could not help but stare at their big bulges, impressed by their sizes, and after a while, when the men started rubbing their own cocks, it became very obvious all three of them had long and fat sausages between their legs.
“Don’t mind me,” mumbled George, and he suddenly dropped his pants, and his long snake jumped out.
Ben opened his mouth in pure awe. George had the most impressive, sexiest cock he had ever seen. It was veiny and uncut, with a big head in the shape of a bell, an incredibly long and thick shaft and big low-hanging nuts.
Phil and Mike looked at each other drunkenly and shrugged, and then dropped their cargo shorts. Phil’s cock was an uncut, curved, throbbing sausage with a long tip and a pair of large saggy balls. Mike’s schlong was fat and heavy just like him, with a head that pointed upward and big hairy balls.
All three cocks were long, manly and powerful, and Ben almost melted staring at them. George grinned at him and waved his cock provokingly.
“Come here,” he said in a low, guttural tone.
He made Ben crawl between his legs and approach his cock until it was only a few inches away from his face.
“Do you want it?” asked George.
“Yes, sir, please, please, I want it so bad,” Ben whispered desperately.
“Do you wanna suck my cock?” provoked George.
“Yes, sir, I want it more than anything else…” confessed Ben, as a tear left his eye.
“Sniff my balls,” commanded George, grabbing Ben’s head and pulling him in. “Come on, it’s your lucky day, shove your nose in there and take a big sniff.”
Ben obeyed. He felt the hot nutsack on his nose and inhaled the musky aroma he was already familiar with, only this time it felt twice as strong, with his nose planted right in there. His eyes rolled back in ecstasy and he felt like a bitch in heat.
“It’s your lucky day, Ben, it’s your lucky day,” said George. “Here, suck my cock, and you better suck good.” George shoved his cockhead inside Ben’s mouth in a quick movement, and started thrusting right away.
Ben almost came in his pants. George’s cock tasted manly and strong, just like him. He opened his lips wide like in a wet dream, and started sucking on it, inch by inch. He felt George’s hand on the back of his head, forcing him to go down roughly and swallow everything. Ben choked when the head hit the back of his throat. He tried to relax and slowly learned to swallow more and more, until George was satisfied.
George throatfucked him silently for a while and kept watching the porn on the flatscreen. Ben gagged and drooled on that long tool, desperate to please. George kept whispering at him and encouraging him to take it.
“Suck it, suck it… suck, suck, suck…”
George then looked at Phil and Mike and grinned. The men nodded in silence and smirked back.
“Come on, George, share that fleshlight,” said Mike.
“Sure, man,” said George. He made Ben look at him and talked clearly. “Suck our cocks. Now.”
Ben crawled to Mike and swallowed his big cock in a heartbeat, eager the please his high school bully and give him all the pleasure he deserved. Mike grunted and stared at the screen distracted, and in a few minutes he started banging Ben’s throat naturally.
Ben looked up at that mountain of a man and felt glad he was pleasuring him. Truth be told, he always had a secret crush on him; but not only that – he always secretly enjoyed being bullied by Big Mike. He sucked harder and took the whole thing down his throat, and his dick twitched happily inside his pants.
Then Phil grabbed him by the hair and made him crawl between his big hairy legs.
“Come on, give me some of that,” mumbled Phil drunkenly.
Ben proudly sucked on Phil’s big alpha cock and even gave his balls a nice tongue bath. Ben would never dream of having the chance to suck Phil Robert’s cock – the big popular jock everyone loved in high school. The great Phil everyone worshiped. It was almost an honor to suck his balls, so Ben took extra care of them and cleaned every inch. He massaged that long cock with his tongue and let Phil fuck his throat for a long while.
Then George snapped his fingers and Ben was suddenly gagging on his perfect cock again. George grunted in deep pleasure and kept watching the straight porn and ravaging Ben’s throat, whispering sweet nothings once in a while.
“Suck my damn cock, you horny slut. Yeah, gag on my large man meat, you dumb pig…”
After a while, Mike whistled and Ben crawled quickly and sucked his cock again, and the cycle repeated over and over again for the next hour. The three men happily edged to straight porn and used Ben’s throat casually until they finally spurted big loads of hot semen down his throat.
Phil was the first to cum. He mouthfucked Ben nonstop and kept thrusting as his spunk shot into Ben’s mouth. His superior jock nut was sweet like coconut, with light hints of salt, and incredibly warm.
“Yeah, swallow that cum, faggot,” said Phil.
Mike was the second to cum. He held Ben’s head with both hands and made him choke and lose his breath, his cock planted balls-deep in Ben’s mouth, his nuts resting against his chin. His jizz was thick and super salty, with light hints of acid. Ben choked on it and struggled to swallow, but when he did, he felt internally proud of himself.
“Fuck yeah, swallow every drop, fucking loser,” said Mike.
George was the third to cum. He fucked Ben’s throat with gusto for another while, and finally started shooting a fat load on his tongue. His nut was burning hot, thick and creamy, and the taste was equally sweet and sour, like a special aphrodisiac. He came with his cockhead pressed against Ben’s tongue, allowing him to taste every drop, and then fucked his rich meal down Ben’s throat.
“You’re totally owned now, Ben… you’re fucking owned and conquered…” George whispered as Ben choked on his cum.
Hearing those words finally drove Ben over the edge and he spurted inside his pants, spasming and shaking in a submissive orgasm. The men noticed and chuckled.
“Fuck, that was kinda fun,” said Phil, dressing up and getting ready to leave.
“Yeah, the fag knows how to suck cock,” commented Mike drunkenly. He dressed up too and emptied the last bottle.
“Well, friends, what happened here stays between us,” said George. He wore his pants and shoved his feet back into his old boots. “Feel free to use the fag from now on. I know I will.”
That night, long after the men were gone, Ben took a comfy shower and rubbed his soft body with soap. He kept thinking about what had happened and somehow it all excited him. He rubbed his pulsing dick and dreamed of more big cock and big feet. The taste of semen still lingered on his tongue, comforting him, and he knew he would be alright.