View Full Version : It's never over

06-11-2011, 06:04 PM
I am a lurker, but let's change that!
Yo, it's SniffWizard. I've been a member now for well over a year (I think?) and after frequently occupying these forums and reading the stories posted by so many of you fantastically talented authors, it just gets me thinking. What right do I have to just get hard over these stories, get my rocks off then never even say so much as a thankyou to the community that makes it possible? Erotica isn't easy, and what many of you have produced is amazing. In fact, I'd love to collab a story with somebody some day. We'll see how that goes though haha.
Here's my first attempt at a story, and I want to give you guys a bit of background on it.
"Ronnie" (not the real name obviously) and the activities mentioned here all genuinely happened. When (if) the next part goes up, that will be partly true as well, but the basis of this tale is a blackmail and humiliation fantasy that has it's roots in things that have actually happened. It's kind of like a "what if" so to speak lol. Ask me anything you want to know about the story, about 'Ronnie', tel me what you'd like to see in the story and I'll see if I can work it in :)

Anyway yeah, my lurking days are over. I'll tell you more about myself if you really want to know, but I'd rather do that in a section dedicated to it lol. The next part would get a little more emotionally intense and maybe no real foot action until the 3rd, I haven't planned that far yet. If the reception here is good and you like my writing style, I will produce more and if you've got comments to make on it, things you think could be improved, that's even more important, don't hesitate to tell me so I can make your reading experience better.
On with the story, feedback wanted :) (and dont worry, future instalments won't have a stupidly long readme before the story lol, and will be longer. This is a 'taster'. On we go!)


When I consider my past mistakes, I can

06-11-2011, 06:05 PM
Worst luck ever lol. Clipped the story out. Sorry!
When I consider my past mistakes, I can’t say I’m fantastically proud of them. It’s even gone beyond the point where I can learn from them and move on. Some mistakes are too... damning. There’s a point of no return, and me turning out to be the weak-minded person that I am, I suppose it was only a matter of time before I got myself stuck, desperate, dependent, and rather ashamedly, hard as a rock.
It’s around March, perhaps late February. I’m pinned down on my bed, arms gripping the sides of my mattress, My legs are trapped and I can’t move them for the life of me. The duvet is pulled all the way over me from head to foot, it’s hot, sticky, and it smells amazing. You see, it’s not just me under these covers in the sweltering heat; all I can taste, see, smell, are the reeking, dripping, gorgeous pair of size 9 feet you could ever, and I mean EVER, encounter.
So here I am soaking up this gorgeous aroma; most people say that it’s like cheddar, or vinegar, or popcorn or whatever, this was just indescribable. These feet stink of pure, untamed female dominance, of sweat and humiliation. Even just think about it makes me stand straight to attention. It’s been 10 minutes and my vision is going blurry. The duvet up here is literally airtight, I’m trapped, and these offensively hypnotic peds are on my side of the prison door. Take a trip further down the bed and we see why; a hand is going supernova on my fully erect member. Unrelenting stimulation from a hand that knows how to milk a guy. Before our sexual adventures took the route of me being under the duvet with her kickers, I used to be able to see her face while she did this. Her Hazel eyes were cold, but with a thrilled, omnipotent sparkle in them; her brown hair flowed freely down her naked body, discreetly covering her huge breasts and delicate upper-body frame; her mouth was, for the most part, straight, but even she couldn’t resist a coy smile every now and again, a deliciously knowing smirk that said “I know what you want, and you are exactly where I want you to be.” She would talk dirty, telling me to smell her soaked feet, she’d describe how long they had been in her claustrophobic shoes, how she loved me so much that she’d kept the socks on for two weeks over a pair of nylons that she’d worn for twice as long. Her voice was sweet, almost innocent, but with a truly slutty undertone (not slutty in a bad way, you must all know the voice I mean, the one that drives you wild).
All the while, her arm never stops moving, only growing faster and faster as time goes by. She never stops, she never sighs; her hand just keeps flying. I’m struggling to breathe calmly, I’m tensing up, and I know that I’m about to blow at least a gallon thanks to this girl. She senses it too, as she lifts the bottom of the duvet from my legs and took a look at me in my desperate, pleading state. That’s it. I have to cum. If I don’t, I’m literally going to cry; this is the most exhilarating hand job she’s ever given me, and her feet fucking stink to high heaven. Her hand continues to rub; my poor cock starts to shake and everything starts going numb.
“Ready bitch?” She says sweetly?
“Oh fuck, yes, yes I am baby, please.”
And as I start to erupt, the bitch is gone; Those stinking feet are forced over my nose and in my mouth. All I can breathe is feet. I inhale sharply and fill my nostrils with her scent as she whips her hand away and takes me right down her throat, taking every drop of cum I’ve got for her. It keeps pumping, I keep gorging on that stink, and she greedily licks and sucks my head, making sure she gets every tiny drip of it.
Now I’m empty, panting, shaking, and I feel fucking amazing. Her feet are still popped up on my chest, so I affectionately kiss under her toes, suck them, lick from the heel to the ball, and give them a massage. The recoil away as she crawls up the bed over me.
“That was... incredible...” I moan. After that, I’m too tired to hold a sentence.
She says nothing, but instead opens her mouth, showing the pool of cum she just milked out of me. I laugh, she smiles, gives me a delicate peck on the lips, and tips her head back and swallows it.
“From the taste, yeah, I’m guessing it was. If you think I’m doing that again, you’re fucking crazy!”
The girl that then collapses her body next to mine, isn’t some dominant bitch forcing me to suck the sweat off her toes, or trying to “crush me like the worm I am”. This is my girlfriend Ronnie. And before we turn over and have a nap, I see those beautiful eyes staring back at me, her skin softly pressing against mine, the tired little smile that tells me she knows she’s everything to me, and it’s all true. I love her, and I wouldn’t change a thing about her for the world. We cuddle close and we sleep together with the sunlight pouring through the window.
Nothing can possibly go wrong.


07-11-2011, 01:00 AM
Woah. You sure know how to simultaneously write an exciting story and build suspense. Definitely looking forward to part 2.

09-11-2011, 12:06 AM
Thanks for reading dude, the feedback is much appreciated too :) I get pretty busy so it may be some time before I get pt2 done (it's halfway there though :P ) but I warn you now, it's a story filler. There is minimal foot action in 2, but come pt 3... lol, I'm struggling to think about how I'm going to do this fantasy justice haha. Things are getting sweaty after that, if I don't chicken out and get embarrassed about my desires lol :S
But please be patient, I will try my hardest to get the next instalments out when I can. Thanks man, I appreciate it :)