Date: Fri, 19 Jan 2007 13:27:12 -0800
From: krchr@hotmail.com
Subject: Airport Feet (m/m, encounter, feet)

Yeah this one is pretty much about feet so if you're not in to that you'll
want to skip it. Part of this happened but most of it is fantasy. If you
happen to recognize yourself in the story drop a note to
<krchr@hotmail.com>. I'd like to know what you think of it. If you like the
story support the archive. All rights hereby donated to the archive.


Airport security is ridiculous. Yeah, of course the threat's real, but
making sure I don't take a pair of fingernail clippers on board isn't
guaranteeing my safety. Neither is x-raying my shoes -- a policy instituted
after that halfwit stuffed his shoes with explosives and tried to light them
with matches which you *can* take on board. The better solution would be
those things that puff you with air and then look for the chemical trace of
explosives. But apparently safety isn't worth spending that much money.
Sorry. Got off on a rant.... I'm really not complaining about that shoe
thing because waiting in line and seeing a bunch of guys standing around in
their socks almost makes up for the rest of the hassle of going through an
airport. Makes me want to go and sign up to work the metal detector. I like
it better when the weather's warmer and there are more barefooted guys but
on this trip everyone was dressed for the almost-Christmas weather outside.
I was the only one barefoot in line since I hadn't bothered to wear socks
with my tennis shoes.

After passing through all of that crap and getting a bite to eat I took a
seat to wait for the first leg of my flight. I sat slouched in the
uncomfortable chair and leaned on the handle of my carry-on luggage. Bored.
I unconsciously slipped my feet halfway out of my shoes and I was bouncing
one leg up and down. A guy, mid-30s, wearing jeans, a light jacket, and
sneakers beaten to within an inch of their life, passed in front of me. I
didn't fail to notice that he did a double take at my feet.

He walked all the way down the row of chairs in which I sat and plopped into
the last seat, next to the window. He didn't look back over at me but I kept
an eye on him. As I watched he propped one ankle on his knee so that the
bottom of his shoe was facing toward me and after a moment he whipped the
shoe off his foot. That was a surprise. A nice one. I turned my head as if
looking out the window and stared at the sole of his stockinged foot. He was
wearing clean white sport socks of the no-show variety, the ones that barely
peeked above the top of a sneaker. The sock clung tightly and I could see
the shape of his foot. He had one hand shoved deep in his shoe evidentially
trying to remove whatever was bothering him. After a moment he succeeded,
dropped something on the floor, and pulled his shoe back on.

Shortly after this he took a look at me. I didn't know if this meant
anything but there was no harm in me playing a long a bit so I kicked off
both my shoes and stretched my legs out a bit wiggling my bare toes. This is
the sort of thing I'd do whether he was there or not. I hate wearing shoes
and only do so when I have to. There were plenty of people around but the
place wasn't packed and no one paid us any attention. I'm sure most of them
didn't care plus I'm old enough to get away with being eccentric. I know
that my particular love of feet was rare though not unheard of. He
apparently was one of those who shared my predilection because while he
wasn't openly staring, there was no question that he was looking.

I slipped my feet mostly back in to my shoes and waited for him to make the
next move. I was having fun. After sitting a bit, shifting around in his
chair, and looking at me in the reflection of the window, he slipped his
feet a bit out of his shoes and moved them around as if idly fidgeting. He
watched me watching him in the reflection. I didn't do anything. I wanted to
see what he might do. He decided to try his earlier ruse again if that's
what it had been. He took one shoe off and tugged his sock to get it tight
and then put his shoe back on. He did the same with his other foot but he
took his sock part way off before pulling it back tight which gave me a
glimpse of bare heel. Then he put his sock and shoe back on and sat as
before.

That did it for me. After he'd settled back down I got up and purposely
walked to stare out the window, which happened to be right in front of him.
I stuck my hands in my pants pockets and shifted my near erection in my
pants. Then I turned looking at him, gathered my luggage, and walked off
toward the bathrooms. I wanted to see what he'd do. As it turned out he did
nothing. I went to the end of the small terminal, went in the bathroom,
peed, washed my hands, and started walking back to my gate. I'm not sure
what I would have done if he'd followed me. There was no real privacy in
those bathrooms. When I came back he was still sitting at the gate as I'd
left him.

We sat there for another half-hour until the flight boarded and I figured
that was the end of it. When they called for boarding I got up and got
straight on the jetway. It was one of those small commuter planes where you
have to walk outside and across the concrete before you get on. I dropped my
larger bag on the cart by the stairs -- it was too large for this little
plane but it was better than dealing with checked baggage -- and climbed on
board. I took my seat and waited.

I was a paragraph or two in to some drivel in the in-flight magazine when
the guy from the waiting area pointed at the window beside me. He stowed his
bag above and I stood up to let him in. He sat down, buckled up, and took
out a novel. He paid me no attention except for a courteous nod but I began
to wonder about the possibilities.

When the plane was almost full a middle-aged woman in casual dress looked at
him and said, "Excuse me I think I'm there."

"Really?" he said. He took his ticket stub out of the book he was reading
and looked at it. "I'm supposed to be in 10A," he said.

"And you're in 11," she said without rancor.

"Oh, that's dumb of me. I'll move," he said, starting to get up.

"Don't bother," she said. "I'll take 10."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'll get there one row faster."

He grinned and thanked her. The gentleman in 10B got up and let her take the
seat in front of my new friend. Now I knew this wasn't an accident. I gave
him a slight smile and he returned it.

He stuck his nose back into the novel as the plane was loaded and eventually
started taxiing. With small planes it really feels like you're moving fast
across the Tarmac. In the big jets it's hard to tell you're underway other
than the bumps. Takeoff was also leisurely since the turboprop needed only a
portion of the runway and in no time at all we were up to our relatively low
cruise altitude. The flight attendant made a quick pass through the cabin
handing out bags of cookies and little bottles of water then retook her seat
at the front.

I turned off my overhead light and relaxed back in my seat. It was a short
flight but most people seemed determined to take a nap and the cabin was
pretty quiet. Just the drone of the engines. My new friend glanced around
and probably noticed as I had that the gentleman in the row across from us
was fast asleep with his mouth open. He looked like a guy who traveled daily
for a living. A little overweight and pallid, his striped tie cascaded over
his belly like a bizarrely fashionable stream. The guy next to me turned off
his light too and tucked his book into the seat pocket. Then kicked off his
sneakers and stuffed them under the seat in front of him and sat with his
feet flat on the floor.

I looked down but didn't stare. I didn't really care if he noticed and
figured he wanted me to. I thought about taking off my shoes, but didn't
really want to play tit-for-tat and I wanted to see what he was going to do.
After a few minutes he put his left ankle on his right knee so that his
stockinged foot was nearly in my lap. The seats weren't all that big. It
looked like an invitation to me. I looked him in the eye and he looked back.
Without breaking gaze I reached out my left hand and placed it on his foot.
He sighed and closed his eyes a bit. He did want this.

It's not often I get this sort of chance so I took advantage of it. I
lightly traced the curve of his arch and ran my fingers down the sole of his
foot. I pressed my thumb into his foot and gave him a light massage which he
seemed to appreciate. While glancing around casually to see if anyone was
paying attention to us I continued to trace the contour of his foot and
explored the shape of his toes. My friend was relaxed with his eyes mostly
closed. He opened them for a minute and smiled at me. No pretending now.

While I was massaging his foot I slipped my own shoes off and left my feet
where he could see them. Well almost see them given how small the seats were
and the fact that it was mostly dark. He felt me move and took a look down.
He moved his right foot over a little which had the affect of moving his
left foot closer to me and putting his right foot in contact with my left. I
felt the warmth of his foot against mine and I happily scooted my foot
closer and flexed my toes against his. I'd found someone as much into feet
as me it seemed.

We sat like that for a few minutes before I got a little more daring. I let
my fingers trace above the sock line and touch the skin of his ankle. He
gave no reaction. I slipped two fingers underneath his sock and stroked the
bare arch of his foot. He looked around a little nervously but saw no one
watching. He smiled at me a bit and then resumed his attempt at a relaxed
posture. I couldn't help a glance at his crotch where his pants seemed a
little more full than they had been.

I let my fingers trace the soft sole of his foot and with a quick motion of
my wrist I popped the sock free of his heel. It was almost the same view he
had given me before, his sock half on. Just as I was getting ready to pull
his sock off completely and finally get a good look I saw the flight
attendant coming down the aisle. I removed my hand. His eyes popped open and
he saw her too. As quickly as he could manage in the confined space he put
his foot back on the floor and moved his other foot so it was no longer
touching mine.

Damnit.

The flight attendant made her rounds picking up trash and the plane started
to descend. People started to come awake, stretch, and pack up their things.
With a slightly embarrassed smile toward me, my friend fixed his sock and
slipped his shoes back on. I left mine off. The flight attendant made
another pass to make sure we were all buckled. She noticed my lack of
footwear but didn't say anything. She took her seat. We finished our ear
popping descent and landed with a thud.

As we sped across the taxiways to the gate I thought about the experience.
Fun, I thought. And boy did I need a release now, but figured that was all I
was going to get from my friend. But maybe a small question was in order.

"Vancouver your destination?" I said. It was the first words we'd spoken to
each other.

"No," he said. "Going on to Toronto."

"Calgary for me," I said. "Flight leaves in a couple of hours. Probably not
much open this time a night so it'll be dull."

"Yeah," he said. "I got some time to kill myself."

I hoped that was an invitation.

When the plane was parked we all hopped up and disembarked. Outside I
grabbed my bag from the cart and trudged up the incredibly long jetway and
the various corridors. My friend walked up ahead of me paying me no
particular attention. We caught up at a bank of screens where we found our
respective gates.

"I'm off to find a quiet spot for a while," I said into the air.

"Sounds good," he said.

I travel through this airport all the time so knew it pretty well. We walked
the length of the concourse like we were going to baggage claim, then
skirted past the end of the security line -- they didn't make you take your
shoes off here -- and went down into another concourse. The airport was
fairly busy even this late, but this concourse, I knew, would be mostly
empty. We walked beside each other but not particularly together and we
didn't talk. I was fine with that.

Near the end of the concourse people had thinned out and there was hardly
anyone around. I led him around the corner past a couple of closed shops to
a set of bathrooms. There was a men's room, a women's room, and a "family
bathroom". I'd been in it before. There was no one in sight as I stepped up
to the family restroom and opened the door. I looked at him pointedly. He
hesitated for a moment, obviously deciding if he was really going to do this
or not. Then he stepped forward. When both of us were in the bathroom I
closed and locked the door.

I parked my lager bag against the door and set down my other. He took off
his backpack and set it against the wall and then looked at me. Hands at his
side. He didn't seem to know what was next. Hell, neither did I, but a plan
was forming. I took a length of paper towel from the dispenser and wiped off
the counter. I motioned him toward it but he seemed confused.

"Hop up," I said.

He did. He sat on the counter facing me with his legs dangling. I got down
on my knees in front of him and pulled off one tennis shoe and then the
other. They were tied very loosely and came right off. I think he got the
idea now but still didn't say anything. I had been denied the sight before
and wasn't about to loose the chance again so without waiting I tucked a
finger underneath his sock and pulled it straight off and then did the other
foot. I tucked his socks into his shoes and pushed them out of the way.

His feet were adorable. Not very big. Nails neatly trimmed short. I put one
hand on each foot and rubbed. He sighed. I traced all around feeling his
skin. It was soft and he had hardly any calluses. Not one for going barefoot
I guess but then it was the middle of winter and not everyone was as
dedicated as me. I rubbed and massaged his feet for several minutes then I
wanted more.

I stood up and took a step closer to him and stood between his legs up
against the counter. He just looked at me. 'He's kind of numb,' I thought
but he seemed to be enjoying himself. I unbuckled his belt with both hands
while looking him in the eye. Then I unbuttoned his pants and then pulled
down his zipper. I reached a hand in and touched his hard cock under his
boxers and gave it a light stroke. It jumped in my hand. I put a hand on
each hip and tried to pull down both his pants and boxers. He pushed himself
up on his hands a bit and I pulled them off him. With some difficulty I
worked both his pants and underwear down his legs and pulled them off.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I mean, I'd had anonymous sex before,
but in an airport bathroom? That was a new one. No stopping now though. I
pulled his pants and boxers completely off and dropped them on the other end
of the counter. His cock was standing straight up. Like his feet it was
adorable. I touched his thighs, stroked his legs and had an all around good
time. Then I grabbed his cock firmly in my hand and started stroking. He
started getting really getting into it and I thought he was probably close.
I stopped.

He looked at me in askance but I smiled. I took off my jacket and unbuttoned
my shirt. Then I kicked off my shoes, unbuttoned my pants and dropped them
along with my underwear. He was still wearing a shirt and jacket but I
wanted to be completely naked. My own cock stood straight out and was harder
than it had been in years. And trust me, as you start to get older you
appreciate when that happens. His eyes were glued to my cock. I had decided
to indulge in a fantasy. Something that in all my years I'd never had the
chance to do. I hoped he enjoyed it. I grabbed his ankles and pulled his
legs out straight toward me then pressed his feet together. Without looking
at him to see his reaction I pushed my slick cock between the arches of his
feet and felt his soles touch my skin. Then I pulled back and did it again.
I felt my balls slap against his heels.

I dared a look up at him and saw that he was stroking his cock with one hand
while watching my cock slide in between his feet. A dozen more strokes for
me and then he came without warning. He deflected the cum with his hand and
it landed on the counter in front of him. I kept stroking feeling the soles
of his feet touch me with each push. Before I knew it I was coming too. I
shot out on to the floor mostly but not entirely missing him. I think I
gripped his ankles pretty tight as my whole body shuddered but he didn't
complain. When I'd finished I let go and he let his legs drop slowly down.

I had one more thing I wanted to do. Getting back on my knees I picked up
one foot and licked my cum off it. Then I did the same with the other and
gave each foot a thorough rub for good measure. When I was done I stood up
before him and placed a hand on each leg. He grabbed my cock and held it as
it softened. Perhaps he was hoping for another round but that was beyond me
at the moment. I thought about kissing him but didn't.

Afterglow faded to awareness and we realized where we were. I stepped back
and he dropped off the counter. We both started cleaning up in a
businesslike fashion using lots of paper towels. He got dressed, put on his
boxers, pants, sock and shoes. I did the same. Then he picked up his bag and
gave me a meaningful look.

"Wow," he said.

"Yeah," I said. That's all I could think of.

He nudged my bag away from the door, unlocked it, and left without a
backwards glance. I quickly shut and locked the door again in case someone
else was planning on coming in. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. I
stayed in the bathroom for a long while considering my reflection and making
sure that I was presentable. Then I left. Thankfully there was still no one
around at that end of the terminal.

I've never really been one for sex in bathrooms but every time I pass
through Vancouver I try to stop by that particular one and it always brings
back happy memories.