’ ‘Well,’ he said, gesturing at the flyer in my hands, ‘there’s a tournament downtown this weekend. Some of the black belts and I have decid...d to go because some old friends will be there.’ He hesitated. ‘I wanted to talk to you about this in private because we aren’t making it general knowledge that we’re going. You know that I disapprove of training for the sole purpose of going to tournament, and I’m afraid that most in the lower ranks would find it very seductive if they were to go.’ I. His eyes wandered to some point beyond my shoulder, lost in his thoughts. He came back to himself and looked at me in all seriousness. ‘How about an eye for an eye? I told you a story about my ex, how about a story about one of yours?’ The mention of ex’s brought to mind only one. My mood changed like the weather. I was nervous one minute and gloomy the next. There was a time when I lived in my past, I had since learned to shake off the shackles of long-ago and live in the present. Every so. Which was fine, because I was a bona fide foot freak.And hers were - are - exceptional.I spent a lot of time at her feet, and she enjoyed my tireless worship.Who wouldn't? She used to say that anyone - woman or man - wouldwelcome my foot-enslaved tongue. She would sometimes refer to melicking men's feet, to goad me perhaps, and it always made me feel weakin the stomach. Afterwards, I would often have to jerk off in thebathroom, the taste of her feet in my mouth, the thought of a man'sstrong. I never expected to be in such a situation where the most ugliest of guys would be looking at my naked body. I would be fucked apart was a foregone conclusion now. I was just sweating and the glistening sweat made the flimsy nightie hug my body more. The perfume was also wafting in the air.Then again someone said “dekho humare liye yeh perfume bhi laga ke aayi hai.. Iss mehmaan nawazi ka inaam dete hai isse”. He just came and pulled me to my feet. I was aghast as others laughed. They saw me in.
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