“You’re sick,” Lenard spat at me.
“I know,” I smiled.
“You’re not supposed to take it well, you fucking pervert.”
Lenard pulled off his socks, and I sniffed on them like it was the last oxygen canister on Earth. Good fucking lord! The smell stinks to the high Eden, and it teeters me to losing consciousness. The aroma is potent and hard-hitting. It’s acrid and pricks like a thousand needles. In front of his bare feet, I opened the zipper of my pants. Like clockwork, he used his feet to excite my flaccid dick.
“If being sick and perverted makes me this happy, I’d welcome it then.”
“You’re sick,” Lenard spat once more. “Calling me here this morning so I could possess this white and pimply ass nerd. I can see this guy’s memories, you know? I’ve seen how you bullied the living shit out of him. He’s practically under your thumb. Why not ask him to give you a footjob yourself and cut me out of the equation? How’s that?”
“He’s a pussy,” I looked straight into his eyes. Those were Terry’s eyes, but the lazy aura screams Lenard. “But not gay.”
“I figured as much, seeing as how he’s masturbating to the cheerleaders rather than the football team. I could change him if you want?”
“No– getting pleasured by a straight guy is half the fun.”
“Awww… I want to have my fun too,”
We’ve danced this tango a thousand times, and Lenard’s footwork is gradually improving. He doesn’t hit me with nails as much, only the warm and calloused soles of Terry’s feet. I moaned whenever he hit a good spot. The warmth and texture of the feet, combined with seeing the face of the nerd I’ve bullied several times, make this a blissful experience. I’m supposed to be the better of us. I should be the one pushing his buttons, not him. And yet… The touch of his feet makes me vulnerable and bare in an instant. I am captivated by all these pleasures rocking my core. And– Ah! Ah! Ah! My seed sputtered in the air and landed between his toes. I don’t scream anymore when I moan. I collapsed in Lenard’s warm embrace as my dick continued to empty its contents in the small space between us. The tender moments we have between us may be a facade, but it doesn’t hurt for a moment to think it’s real.
“Same time next week?” Lenard asks.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Can I at least get another nerd? This one’s getting stale.”
“No,” I looked into his eyes once more. Terry is my nerd. My one and only. Someday, I’ll have the courage to plow his hole, but not today and not the day after. His feet still pleasure me like no other.