Untitled

[punyrunt]

"You like socks?" "No" "Yes?" "No!" "Yes?" "No!" "Well that's great that you do, because I've got a sock for you" "No no no no no" "Let me use some tape to make sure you don't lose your present. Much better. You good buddy? What's that? I can't understand you so I'm gonna take that as a yes."

[humiliatemeplesse]

There. Now we can tie the other stinking one over your nose. I'm gonna teach you to LEARN to like 'em. Soon enough you'll be begging me to suck and sniff my stinking sweaty socks. everyday.

[lookingcutedaddyyy]

[potent-virility]

[twisted-talez]

“You boys need something?” my buddy’s dad asked, holding up the flap to his tent as I climbed in with him. A single camping lamp burned in one corner of the tent, illuminating his muscular, hairy body. 

“I’m freezing cold,” I shivered. The outside temperature had dropped to the lower forties, yet Brock was shirtless in his sleeping bag. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah, I never get cold,” he winked, stroking his dense forest of chest hair, seemingly for my benefit. “Not with all this man fur that I’ve got.” And then he opened his sleeping bag for me, fully naked, his massive cock ready for action. “Why don’t you climb in here with me, Parker?” he offered. “I can warm you up.”

The annual spring camping trip with Grayson and his dad Brock had started when we were kids. And though I had been attracted to my buddy’s dad and his über masculine body since my earliest pubescent days, my lust for Brock only intensified after I had reached maturity. And though I was still deeply in the closet at the age of eighteen, I suspected that my desires had become apparent to him.

The first change in Brock’s attitude toward me occurred during our ritual plunge into a waterfall basin that was near our campsite, the icy waters churning with melt-off from winter snows. We had always worn swim suits but, now that Grayson and I were grown, his dad stripped down naked with his big, floppy cock swinging between his hairy legs. He encouraged Grayson and me to do the same. Grayson and I politely averted our glances, not wanting to get caught staring at each other’s cocks. But I couldn’t keep my eyes off his dad’s huge dick—meaty and delicious, begging for attention. 

To be fair, I knew Brock was hung like fuck. After the divorce from Grayson’s mom, it was no secret that he was giving it to all the divorced moms in the neighborhood—some of the married ones, too. I had overheard my mom’s friend Mina bragging that Brock had nearly busted her pussy, laughing that she almost needed stitches by the time he was done with her. Hearing shit like that only made me want Brock all the more. 

On our first night of camping, Brock always made s’mores for Grayson and me as we sat around the campfire. But now that we were “big guys,” as he put it, Brock passed around a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Taking the first swig, he then passed the bottle to me. Eagerly, I took my first sip, the alcohol burning on its way down, my cock hardening at the thought of his saliva on the rim of the bottle. 

After several passes, the whiskey nearly gone, Brock passed the bottle to me once more. “Grayson tells me he’s been fucking that girl Bella up the street—the one with the big tits. Apparently, she’s a slut for dick just like her mom. You been fucking her, too, Parker?”

“Nah,” Grayson laughed, answering for me. “Parker is still a virgin.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Brock winked at me. “It’ll happen when you’re ready. And something tells me your time will be soon,” he locked eyes with me.

My mind reeled. Was Brock flirting with me? I barely had time to process what was happening when Grayson stood up and yawned. “I’m tired as fuck,” he announced, staggering to the tent that we shared. Usually, I followed Grayson to bed. But with the alcohol coursing through my veins, my hormones in overdrive, I decided to stay by the fire with Brock, hoping he might make a move on me.

“I’m gonna hit the sack, too,” Brock announced, giving a broad stretch before heading to his tent. “You boys sleep well tonight. I’m always here if you . . . need anything.”

Did Brock expect me to follow him? Was the anything his cock? I was confused and, thus, made my way back to the tent I shared with Grayson. He was snoring lightly, huddled in his sleeping bag. I climbed into my own sleeping bag, resting my arms behind my head.

What the fuck was wrong with me? I should have made a move on my buddy’s dad when the two of us were alone by the fire. But I did nothing, waiting for him to proposition me. But the night was not lost. I needed to grab the bull by the horns and make my move. I needed to offer myself up to Brock.

Climbing out of my tent, I was elated to see his camping lamp illuminating the sides of his tent. Brock was clearly still awake.

“You boys need something?” he asked, holding up the flap to his tent as I climbed in with him, the lamp illuminating his muscular, hairy body. 

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked, noting that he was shirtless. “I’m freezing,” I shivered.

“Nah, I never get cold,” Brock winked, stroking his dense forest of chest hair. “Not with all this man fur that I’ve got.” And then he opened his sleeping bag for me, naked beneath, his massive cock ready for action. “Why don’t you climb in here with me, Parker?” he offered. “I can warm you up.”

Instantly, my face was buried in his furry chest as Brock wrapped his muscular arms around me. Flipping us over within his sleeping bag, he was suddenly on top of me, pulling off my sweat pants with his meaty hands.

“I was hoping you’d come find me,” he growled, his breath hot at my ear, his scruffy beard scratching my cheek. “I’ve been jonesing to get my cock inside you all day.”

And then he kissed down my body, skirting around my cock, until his lips met my thighs. With his strong hands, he pushed my knees into my chest, exposing my hole to him. And then I felt it—his tongue probing into the puckered folds of my sphincter. The sensation was incredible, my toes curling as he licked and sucked at my hole, readying it for him.

“Holy fuck,” I moaned, pulling off his winter cap and running my fingers through his thick head of hair as Brock ate my hole ravenously. I tensed for a brief second as he pushed one and then two of his thick fingers inside of me, widening them scissor-like, opening my hole for him. “That feels so fucking good.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he laughed, pushing himself upward onto his muscular arms, his cock head pressed up against my virgin hole. And then—with one, deep thrust—Brock was inside me. I was a virgin no more.

“FUCK,” I cried, lighting bolts in my vision, my hole ripped apart. “It hurts so bad,” I whined like a baby.

“Just ride out the pain,” Brock advised, holding still inside me. “The first time hurts like fuck at first, but you’ll soon be feeling good.”

“Have you fucked a lot of virgins, like me?” I asked my sphincter still locked around the base of his cock, my legs tensing.

“I’ve had more than my fair share of virgins—both girls and guys,” Brock shared, his cock beginning to move slowly inside of me.

“I—I didn’t know you fucked guys,” I admitted, the pain subsiding, my sphincter relaxing. 

“I love fucking pussy,” he answered matter-of-factly. “But nothing beats fucking a guy’s ass,” Brock suddenly shoved deep inside of me, his balls mashed against my hole. “You see how deep I am inside of you—all nine inches of me?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, my eyes rolling back into my head.

“There’s no pussy on earth that will allow me to do that,” he laughed, smacking my ass. “Or will allow me to do this—”

And then Brock began a violent assault on my ass, hammering at my hole with his big dick, beating it into submission. My hands gripped his hairy forearms, bracing myself against his assault. “You’re so deep,” I screamed in amazement, waves of pleasure coursing through my body with each driving thrust.

“Yeah, open that cunt for me,” he barked, looking down at his big dick gliding in and out of me. “That gaping cunt is a virgin hole no more.”

He was right. My virgin hole had morphed into the man cunt that it was always meant to be. I was taking his big dick like a champ—and I was fucking loving it. Stretching my legs, I wrapped them around his meaty ass, pulling him into me. Over and over, Brock pounded my hole. Though it was cold as fuck outside, the tent was blazing hot, our body heat raising the temperature. Sweat began to pool upon Brock’s hairy chest, raining down upon my body as he pounded me mercilessly.

“You like my big dick?” he asked, his cock a battering ram in my bowels. “You like this big dick all up in you?”

“Yes,” I exhaled, struggling to breathe, overwhelmed by the intensity of his assault. “Your big cock feels so good inside of me.”

“You gonna let me cum inside you?” Brock demanded, his balls slapping my ass with each deep thrust. “You gonna let me breed your cunt?”

“Breed me,” I begged. “Fucking dump that load in me.”

“You’re about to get it,” he warned, his cock swelling inside of me, pressing against the walls of my fuck canal. Instantly, I felt a deep throbbing in my bowels as Brock cried out, “FUCK—Here it comes—FUCK—SHIT—FUCK.”

He collapsed upon me, his cock pulsing in my depths, his warm cum spewing into my unchartered void, marking me as his own. “Breed me,” I begged again, his warm load spreading through my guts. “Fill me with your seed.”

“Damn, you’ve got a cunt made for cock,” he growled, pulling out of me, watching as his pearly load gushed from my wrecked hole. “I’ll be right back.”

And then suddenly Brock was gone—naked and into the cold night. I assumed he had to piss, but didn’t hear the sound of his stream splashing up against a tree or into the dirt behind our tent. Yet before I could wonder for too long, the mystery was solved. 

“Dad says you’re taking cock in here,” Grayson suddenly climbed into the tent with me, pulling down his sweat pants and resting the waistband beneath his balls, unleashing a cock that mirrored his dad’s big dick in every way. “Fuuuuuck,” Grayson exhaled, pushing into my cummy hole, fucking me with his own father’s cum as lube.

“Told you he’s got a hot hole,” Brock suddenly appeared behind Grayson, his meaty hands on his son’s shoulders. “That’s it, son. Fuck his ass with your big dick,” Brock encouraged Grayson as he pummeled my hole. “Fuck the shit out of that little cock slut.”

Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.

[89-1999-deactivated20251110]

[broztied]

You taking a sniff?

[everythingstupid46323]

[miniatureblizzardkitten]

[miniatureblizzardkitten]

[rharrison642]

[oscurolugar]

[testosteronefeet]

[jockfootstories]

Your frat brother Chris is looking at you, displeased that you’re late restocking the fridge, among other things you’ve forgotten during the week. He’s the most dominant of the brothers, especially with how he uses his feet around you. You suspected early on that he’s always been this way—probably all through high school—making yuppie underlings bow at his feet. You’re sure he gets an extreme power trip from it.

You have only a few more weeks before your pledge is complete, and you’re willing to do whatever it takes to get in. You apologize to him, promise you’ll have everything restocked and in order by the afternoon, and ask if he needs anything else. He just stares at you, then points at his huge feet resting on the table.

You quickly move to his large soles and begin kissing the bottoms of them, begging for forgiveness. His foot smell hits you immediately as you kiss his feet again before easing up. “You’re going to make sure the fridge is stocked with beer, right?” he asks.

“Yes, sir,” you respond.

“My feet aren’t satisfied with this apology. Beg to crawl under my desk and be their footrest,” Chris replies.

You drop to your knees and beg him to let you crawl under his desk and cover your face with his hot, alpha feet. Chris nods, and you quickly scoot under the desk, watching his huge bare soles lower onto your face. One foot smears over your nose a few times as you take deep inhales of the jock’s foot smell before Chris presses the bottoms of his toes over your nose, ordering,” Smell between my toes and tell me you enjoy breathing in my foot odor.”  You obey, intaking the stinkiest part of his foot, and tell him you love inhaling his foot smell. 

You lay there for several minutes, breathing in his ripe foot odor, now extremely lightheaded, as you feel each of his feet and toes glide against your nose. From above, you hear him say, “Lick,” and you quickly drag your tongue over each of his bare soles, tasting them. You dart your tongue between his toes, getting them wet, and continue worshipping his feet for the next twenty minutes.

Chris smothers your face completely with both soles for a few minutes, plunging you into darkness, before finally pulling them away. He looks down at you and says, “I know some of the other brothers are a little upset with you as well, so you’ll be groveling at their feet at the sorority party tonight too. Besides being the beer bitch, you’ll also be the footrest if we watch the game.”

You hate being humiliated in front of the other frat brothers, but you chalk it up to part of the hazing. “Yes, Master Chris,” you reply, and watch him get up, leaving you to go about your business.

At the party, you’ve gotten drinks for the brothers and a few of them have ordered you to bow down and kiss their Sperry shoes. While down at their shoes, you hear you Chris come in, hearing all of them light up when he arrives. He walks over and high-fives the other frat brothers before gently pushing you over onto your backside. He slips off his Birkenstock sandals and conquers your face with one huge barefoot. You feel the bottom sink into your face as you lay there, hearing the other frat brothers snicker. You hear Chris say,” Hope our new pledge is getting you all beers and doing his duties.”  You hear the other frat bro’s say he is and feel Chris nudge your face with his foot in satisfaction. “Good boy.” He removes his foot and orders you to get him a drink. You offer the other guys drinks and clean up where needed…. eventually having to lay on the floor and be a footrest to some of them while they watch the game. Massaging one pair of feet while Chris and another frat bro take turns covering your face with their bare soles. You end up being the casual foot rest for the rest of the game, feeling the weight of feet resting on your stomach, chest, and face.

[jockfootstories]

Your stoner friend squinting at you as you enter the room. Your other buddies not yet arrived but you hear him say,”The other guys will be here in a bit so you can get at my feet and smell them.” You go to the end of the couch and push your face into his size 12’s, deeply breathing in their warm scent. You move your face against his soles for a bit before pushing your nose under his toes. He wiggles them some on your nostrils, feeling the air being breathed in from between them. “Fuck yah. Smell those feet.” After several minutes of inhaling his foot odor, your face now stinking like them, he tells you to lick between his toes. You worship his feet for the next 10 minutes until the guys arrive before taking a break. You end up sliding onto the floor, hoping he’ll use your face as a footrest while the guys attempt to play a video game. Sure enough, after everyone is feeling fine, you watch both huge bare feet lift up, and casually plant themselves onto your face. You remain still while your other friends tease you briefly and your friend just tells you to lay there, and be his foot stool. You continue smelling them until you’re absolutely high off their odor.

[orbtricity]

Your roomate was a true alpha male. He always left dirty jockstraps, socks and underwear strewn around the common space, and every time you tried to tell him to stop hed grab you and flex his giant bicep around your neck, until you begged him to stop. Whenever that happened he would flex and do a little show for you, just to prove how much better he was. One day he came home early and discovered you were smelling one of his jocks. Before you could explain yourself he pushed you up against the walk with his muscular arms. “So you’re a fag, huh? Well if you want my musky smell you can have it!” He laughed cruelly, and put his jock over your head so the part that his sweaty cock rubbed into was over your mouth and nose. “You’re a lucky fag, the last one was so pathetic i had to eat him. The little bitch was barely visible under my abs and he didn’t even clog the toilet when i shit him out. But you, you’re the lucky one. You’re going to smell my man musk every day for the rest of your life.”

[frankyupm]

[mystrangekinks]

I don't even have a story caption for this; this is just hot AF 🥵

[showmeyourfeet]

[whatshewontdo]

“Everyone else left the second I took my shoes off... I can’t help the way my feet stink. Makes me feel bad when people go running. Not you though. Your cheeks go red, you start licking your lips. I know you stick around cause it turns you on. So the real question is, why haven’t you asked me to worship my feet yet? I’m not gonna say no. I wanna see someone get off on the thing Ive felt so ashamed about for so long. I turns me on that you’re turned on. This stink is for you”

[mystrangekinks]

I know I've reblogged this before already, but years later I still find myself thinking about this story...

[jockfootstories]

Your cousin, casually standing over you, briefly looks down at you. In his cocky manner, he calmly lifts one size 11 up, and rests it on your face. Your face melts into his bare sole while he relaxes it there. Feeling the light pressure on your face, you breathe in the bottom of his foot. After a moment he starts rubbing it up and down your face, flexing his toes over your nose. You look up at him and he stares down at you blankly, then smears his foot more purposely across your nose. You suddenly hear our other cousin call from downstairs. Your cousin stops, covers your whole face with his foot as if quieting you, and turns toward the stairs. You feel the bottom of his foot start to shake your face lightly as your cousin answers him. They have a little bit of a conservation as you lay there looking into his giant foot. You hear your other cousin from downstairs go back into the kitchen and feel your cousin smear his foot up and down your face a few more times. He covers your nose with his toes and rubs the bottoms firmly against your nose. “Who’s the king?,” he ask’s sarcastically. You point up at him as he engulfs your face with his entire foot, shaking the bottom briefly in agreement, replying,”Damn right.” He keeps you foot pinned a moment longer then removes his sole from your face as you watch the giant head down stairs.