Naked Feet Bare Bum

So, this morning I was thinking of writing about something I love to hate, but I decided my story should be about something you love to hate.

Something I love to hate?

Yeah, feet touching you, naked feet on your bare skin.

Nah, that is just something I hate.

Of course, you have to hate something to love to hate it.


Well, you don’t like feet on you, but as I have just got out of the shower you know that my feet are clean, as clean as any other part of me.  So there should be no difference between my touching you with my foot or my hand.

Oh, I don’t know.

OK, how about this, for the rest of this story you have to have my feet touching you.  My naked feet against your bare skin.

I don’t know.

No story then.

OK.  If I must.

Yes, you must.  And this aint gonna be easy, because you going to have my rough bare feet against the soft smooth skin of your buttocks.  Loosen up so I can get them in. Nice. I want you to think about my feet because this is a story of where they have been.  It starts, as all good feet stories start, with a pair of sandals. Jesus sandals. You know they are not easy to get these days.  And, of course, the first step of a journey.
I should have been staying with the guys but I was tired of the continuous bravado.  Even back then when I was a rugby player I was a softie at heart. So off I stepped in my size 11 jesus sandals along the beach road.  We were staying at my friends family holiday home, we were camping in the garden, spending most of the day on the beach then the evenings drinking and smoking until collapsing for the evening.  It was that stage in life when I had had a few sexual encounters but mostly sex and women were a mystery to me. OK, there are still many mysteries of your sex, but these day I am just so much more nonchalant in my responses when something erotic happens.
Back to my walk, the house was close to the beach but not quite on it.  I hd to walk past a few houses to get there. It was a hot day, but because it was before season the houses were all empty.  I might have been a budding young socialist but I didn’t at the time see any problem with benefitting from my friend’s family wealth.  That morning I found myself walking through an empty sunshine holiday village populated only by a few students who had just finished their exams and nearly invisible security, perhaps one day I will write a story about what the security guy saw, but today it is about my feet.  Do they feel nice against your buttocks? That morning when I was walking along the coast it wasn’t beautiful soft sand, it was rocks. Hard rugged terrain, the waves crashing on my right and the thorny bushes waiting to snag me on my left. The tide was low but even this didn’t always allow me easy passage.  If it had been an easier walk perhaps things would have turned out differently. If I had been looking ahead I might have noticed I was approaching a house that fairly much backed onto a near private rock pool, large enough for swimming when the tide was low though probably too rough when the tide was high. If I had been looking ahead I would have noticed Anna and Millie.  If I had noticed them sunbathing on the loungers I probably would have turned back quietly, worried that they might think me a perve trying to spy on them. But I wasn’t, the first I noticed them was Millie calling my name. I looked up, smiled, wave and started up towards their house. That is when I noticed Anna was naked, lying on her stomach on her sunlounger, her bottom in my direction.  In my memory I stumbled but I think the stumble was only in my mind, not my feet. I stared at her bottom for a while, what seemed to be a long while before reminding myself to look at her face. It was a round ass for a slim girl, two hemispheres rising soft and smooth in the bright sunshine, falling away to her back which curved gracefully. When I remember the moment I think of it as a still photo capturing a moment in a dance, though, of course, she didn’t move more than to raise her had enough to look about at me.  She smiled.

Are the others with you?

Millie was standing behind Anna wrapped in her towel.  She must have been sunbathings too but noticed me and chose to play a trick on Anna.  Anna looked away from me towards Millie. At that moment I wanted nothing more than for Anna to sit up so I could see her breasts.  When I played the encounter back again in my head I suggested a swim, surely they would have gone for it, a morning skinny-dip as it would have been a hassle to get their bikinis.  When I played the encounter back again in my head I most certainly had more conversation, conversation that would have prolonged the moment, perhaps prolonged it long enough for everyone to be comfortable enough for me to strip down to my Jesus sandals only and join them in enjoying the sun.  But in reality all I did was say nah. Millie offered me some coffee, I followed her and the moment was over.

Cup in hand, I cam back out to find Anna sitting with her towel wrapped about her.  When Millie came out she was dressed, and, if in what seemed like no time at all, Anna was dressed too and we were walking back to my friend’s house, along the road this time.


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