The Origin Of My Foot and Leg Fetish

My foot and leg fetish began in college. I had always been an awkward boy and encounters with girls were few and far between. Even now, I kept to myself and tried to blend in. Regardless, I always seemed to find myself alone and at the butt of someone’s joke. I guess that was why I didn’t take her seriously at first. She was an unusual girl, I have to admit, except I really liked her stockings.

It was a cold day when she approached me. Snow had been falling and the college was barren, making it seem lifeless. I was walking towards the large towering building, my feet ankle deep in the snow. I hadn’t noticed her run towards me and startled as she skidded in the snow, grabbing my arm for balance. She gave a wry smile and asked if I’d noticed her new socks. I looked down at her legs to see sheer black vertical stripes covering her legs, all the way up to her pale thighs.

                                                                    My Foot and Leg Fetish Begins

Her skirt was short, too short for this weather and the inch of exposed flesh between her socks and skirt was turning pink. I hadn’t noticed quite how attractive her slender frame was before and being a young adult filled with hormones, gave her the benefit of the doubt. I told her the stockings looked good on her and we continued towards the building, holding on to each other through the snow. As we got to the doors, she shook off each foot and removed her shoes, pulling me into the building. She seemed to be looking around anxiously and pushed through an inconspicuous door I hadn’t noticed before. My arm in her hand, I followed with little realization of what was going on.

It was dark and slightly cramped. It felt like a closet and with no light I could focus on nothing but her breathing. Her hand slid down my arm until it reached my fingers, the electric sensation quickly focusing my attention. With her fingers laced through mine she placed my hand on her chilled thigh. I could feel the stockings, smooth to the touch, like silk or satin. I could feel the ridges as I traced her thigh, her fingers between mine gently squeezing as I moved. My hand was warming quickly. Her breathing became heavier and she grabbed my other hand repeating the motion and placing it on her other thigh, feeling even colder now that blood was racing through my body, quickly heating me. As we both became warmer, the friction sharing heating our bodies, I moved my hands upwards slowly.

               My Thoughts Escaped Me As a Stockinged Foot Worked Its Way Into My Trousers

However, she pushed them back down, keeping them steady on her thighs. At the same time, she leaned closer and whispered suggestions, telling me to massage her legs. I felt her lean back against something and lift her legs on either side of me, pressing her knees against my hips. Of course, I obliged and continued to rub and squeeze her soft legs, gently working up and down. She reached forward and I felt the tug of her struggling with the zip on my trousers. The noise of the zip flying down seemed loud and I suddenly became conscious that people may discover what we were doing.

Nevertheless, my thoughts escaped me as one smooth stockinged foot worked its way into the opening of my trousers. Her toes wriggled gently and rhythmically, pressing against my growing bulge with alternating pressure. Firm, then soft, teasing. I rubbed her legs enthusiastically, loving the sensation under my fingers as she brought me to ecstasy. Her moans matched mine as I squeezed her calves firmly, my fingers unable to move as the orgasm washed over me. We stayed still, motionless aside from the heavy breathing until I collapsed forward onto her knees, her feet now resting on my thighs.

                                                              Insatiable

I startled as she moved, standing as I heard the rustle of her searching for her shoes. She grabbed my hand once more and slid my fingertips up her thigh, further this time, past the smooth stocking top and over her creamy flesh. I felt the soft satin of her panties tight against her, sticky and moist. My fingers lingered there, the sweet scent wafting up towards me, wondering what was coming next. She dropped my hand and wriggled away, more rustling before a sharp crack of light flooded the room. My eyes, blinded and blurred after being in the dark for so long, followed the silhouette of her leaving the room.

Among other things, after that I was left with an insatiable foot and leg fetish.