Date: Sun, 3 Jan 2010 22:22:42 -0500 From: Bearfoot Luver Subject: The Linebacker's Feet This story is purely a work of fiction. As always, if you are under the age of 18, or if the local laws in your area prohibit viewing of such material, do not continue. This is my first story submission, so feedback (constructive, that is) is appreciated. Email me at mellobearman@gmail.com. I hope you enjoy! M/M, feet, oral, jocks The Linebacker's Feet Don't get me wrong. I love football for the game; the battle on the gridiron, the impossible catches, the last-minute comebacks, and head-to-head matchups are great. Really, though, for me it's about the men. Ever since I can remember I've been attracted to football players. I got into the game at an early age, and it certainly didn't seem unusual for a boy to love football. As I got a bit older, I realized that my teammates, with their young muscles packed into their sweaty gear, really got my little cock going. By the time I was in high school, I had a full-on attraction to my football jock buddies, especially when they were all geared up and sweaty from a hard game. More than the gear, though, is my strong attraction to jock feet. Who can say what gives a man his fetish? All I know is that when I was in the locker room looking at all those incredible teen feet, it took every ounce of will power to not pop a woody. The combination of jocks in their gear and bare feet drives me wild. I knew early on that I loved jocks and their feet, either bare, in a nice pair of sweaty white socks, or encased in a hot set of cleats. Of course, I also loved seeing all those cocks and tight, muscled asses parading around the showers. Like most teams, our guys were all shapes and sizes, and their cocks were no exception, and I loved sneaking longing looks at them all. Sure, I loved the game, but I played football so I could be around the players and get my eyeful on the field and the locker room. However, I kept these passions to myself all through high school. I might have snuck a sniff or two in a buddy's cleat when he wasn't looking (ok, maybe three or four sniffs), or snatch a warm, sweat-soaked sock from the locker room to jack off with, but I kept it all to myself. So, given my love for football and the studs who play the game, I was devastated when a serious knee injury from a particularly rough tackle put my playing days to an end in the middle of my sophomore year. My parents were very sympathetic, especially my dad, and they knew I was pissed to not be able to suit up and get back in the game. Really, though, I was going to miss being around the jocks, especially in the locker room. They were all my friends, and most of them were pretty great about helping me carry stuff and getting around during my recovery from the surgery. Still, the thought of not being around them in their gear, nor seeing them walk around barefoot on the sidelines or the locker room really got me down. It was my coach, actually, who presented the idea to me. Knowing I could not return to the field, but that I also really loved to be part of the team (he didn't know the real reason, obviously), he suggested I become one of the team trainers. I would help out with the equipment and tend to the minor medical needs of the team. It dawned on me that not only would I still be around these hot athletes, but that I could actually get my hands on them! I took to it right away, and even started studying anatomy so I could have every excuse to get a handful of jock muscle in a way that wouldn't raise too much suspicion. By the time my junior year season started, I was taking on my new role with total enthusiasm. My favorite part, far and above, was taping up ankles and feet. Oh how I loved getting up close to those jock dogs! I would pretend to be detached, just another part of the team doing a job to get the boys ready for the game, but I was in heaven being able to get so close to so many incredible, strong football player feet. I would secretly study each curve, each toe, each perfect sole. Sure, not all of them had great feet, but I always found something to appreciate. If they got up on the table in full gear with their bare feet splayed out for my taping, my cock would get achingly hard in my shorts and I would have to find creative ways to cover up my arousal. If anyone suspected my intense attraction to these boys and their feet, no one said or did anything about it, and the remainder of my high school football days were pure heaven for me. It was natural, then, that as I began to explore my college options I chose to study sports medicine. The thought of making a career out of man-handling jocks was the perfect life for me! I thought it would be tough to land a spot as a trainer for a college football team, but my coach had a connection at a Big 10 university. It turned out his college roommate was the Athletic Director and he gave me a glowing recommendation. I guess my outlet for my passion for hot athletic men in uniform was perceived as a passion for excellence, and I was immediately accepted on the football team as one of their trainers. Well, if I thought my high school jock buddies were hot, getting up close and personal with these college footballers set my cock on automatic drip! The team was big in every way, and these beefcakes were a footlover's dream! My first day at training camp in August was such a rush. I was surrounded by studs with huge arms, huge pecs, huge cocks, and huge feet. Things were crazy for the first couple of days as I got into the routine, but soon I was deep into jock heaven. The first time I got to help the guys stretch before practice, I thought I would go insane from having all of those big, hot cleats in my hand. I loved helping them stretch their quads because I got to hold their cleat and lean into them. If I thought they weren't looking, I would turn my head and get my nose close into the opening of the cleat and get a nice, long whiff of jock foot. I was flogging my cock every chance I got after being around all of that football sweat all day...and this was just at camp! I knew I was going to love this place... Now these college guys were all pretty much studs; you didn't get to play for a school like this if you weren't prime meat out of high school. Even so, there was one guy who was always the star of my after-practice jack-offs. His name, believe it or not, was Buck, and he was straight out of Texas. Who names their kid Buck nowadays, anyway? I didn't give a shit what his name was because this guy was a giant slab of genuine Texas football beef. He was one of the top linebackers in the Big 10, and since he was a senior, there was no doubt he'd be a top pick in the NFL draft next year. Everything about Buck was big, from this big, square jaw, to his mountainous shoulders, to a chest that look like two whiskey barrels, to thighs like tree trunks, down to his...oh, yes...his huge feet. He was also covered in deep, dark hair all over, including each glorious toe. Like I said before, I loved taping up the players' feet and ankles in high school, and now these college studs took that task to a whole new level of erotic joy for me. These were serious athletes, and, for the most part, they all had feet I would drool over. From short, wide soles of linemen to the long, narrow, perfectly shaped toes of the kicker (who was a bit skinny for my tastes, but still a really handsome guy), I was engulfed in a sea of jock feet and loving it. Still, even up though the first scrimmage of the season, I had yet to get Buck up on my table. You see, I was certainly not the only trainer on the team, and I always had some other studs hoof in my hand whenever he was ready to be taped up. And oh, how I wanted those huge pads of his in my palm. Buck was devastatingly handsome, with deep blue eyes that glowed from under a heavy ridged brow. Some might have found him too brutish, but he was such a down-home nice guy. He has this permanent, lop-sided grin and friendly roughhousing humor around the guys that seemed in stark contrast to his hulking appearance. And then there were those huge feet of his. On his six-foot-five frame, they were perfect, and he always seemed ready to shuck his cleats the second he could. I couldn't count how many times during camp he'd be padding around barefoot in full gear as soon as practice was over. Once he even walked right into me by accident. He was calling something back to one of the coaches over his shoulder and didn't see me coming around the bench. I was trying to carry and armful of towels and didn't really see him, either. As he collided with me, my head was down trying to gather a particularly stubborn towel and I got an eye full of naked foot flesh. Needless to say he knocked me down flat (my 200 pounds was no match for his nearly 300 of solid brick muscle), and I was face-first on the ground next to those giant bare feet. I looked up his mammoth form towering above me in full pads, so huge he blocked out the sun, and saw that heart-stopping grin of his beaming down at me. "Aw, sorry there, Alex," he said as he reached down to help me up. "I guess I should look the same way I walk." His southern drawl was deep, smooth, and sweet, like a belt of good whiskey. "Hey, n-no sweat there, Buck," I laughed nervously as my hand was drowned by his meaty paw and I was lifted to my feet. It suddenly occurred to me that he knew my name, even though we never so much as said two words to each other since I got there. I knew I should have said something, but I was too struck by my dream jock in full gear and bare feet that I just stared into those deep blue eyes of his a bit too long. There was an awkward few seconds as we just stood there, me too love-struck and stupid to talk. Finally he laughed and slapped me playfully on the back. "Looks like you got nothin' out of place, buddy! See you 'round, kid," and turned to head back into the locker room. That's when I noticed he'd dropped his cleats and forgot to grab them. I quickly snatched them up and while I was gathering up the towels I managed to get my nose deep into one. The smell was incredible; it was musky and hot, making my head dizzy and my cock drool. I wanted to take them back to my dorm room and shove my dick inside them, but I knew couldn't get away with it. Instead I took them back into the locker room. Buck had just shucked his football pants and was standing there in just his shoulder pads and jock. The pouch was worn and sweaty, straining to contain the uncut monster inside. I had seen his cock quite a few times around the locker room, and just thinking about the delicious meat and huge balls under that thin stretch of fabric was almost too much for me. "You, uh...You dropped these," I said as I held out the enormous cleats to him. "Oh hey yeah...thanks, Alex," he replied as he took them from my hand. "S'pose I need these. Guess I can't run around in the scrimmage tomorrow in my bare feet!" He chuckled, set them down in his locker, and began to strip off his jersey. I would have paid a million dollars to see him play the scrimmage barefoot, but I didn't tell him that. Instead I went back out to gather up the rest of the towels and remembered the smell of those hot cleats. I blew a huge load that night thinking of that encounter. I didn't know then that was just a teaser... The next day was the second scrimmage of the season, and for some reason Buck was nowhere to be seen. I was busy doing my job of taping hot jock feet and helping hunks stretch their bulging muscles. None of the coaches seemed terribly concerned, so I thought nothing of it. Finally, as the team was running warm-ups on the field, one of the coaches called over to me that Buck was suiting up and to get over and get him taped up for the game. Finally I had a chance to get up close to those feet! I trotted back to the locker room area and got ready for my Texas stud of a linebacker. I nearly lost my mind when I saw him standing in the doorway of the training area. He was in full pads and those giant bare feet were in a pair of Nike sport sandals. He was a football jock dream god and I was about to get those feet right in my face. "Alright, let's get me taped up, Alex," he said as he kicked his sandals away and hopped up on the table. As I pretended to look for tape in the drawer under the table, I took as second to drink in the site before me. His feet were absolutely giant and completely perfect. They were meaty and muscled, yet graceful, with just the right arch. The soles were spotless and smooth, with softly padded balls and gently curving heels. Man...that one guy...what was his name? That sculptor guy...Michelangelo...Yeah, Michelangelo himself could not have created a more perfect pair of feet. I looked up past those huge perfect feet to survey the Texan who was casually leaning against the wall. His pads made him look like a giant, and that rough, handsome face with a hint of a beard capped by a dark brown buzz-cut was fuckin' incredible. I felt my hands start to shake and I was starting to sweat as I grabbed up the tape and fumbled to unravel it. "You sure get a lotta feet in yer face, dontcha?" he asked as he looked down at me. "Huh? Oh yeah...yeah, I guess I do," I answered as casually as I could. And I love every minute of it! "I got the biggest on the team. Yessiree..." He wiggled his perfect toes in emphasis. "The biggest. Size 15's. But I keep mine nice 'n' pretty...keep 'em clean and neat. Don't ya think?" His blue eyes were intense as they locked with mine, burning right into me. I couldn't look away. "Y-yeah...sure," I stammered. I was hypnotized by him as we sat there alone in the locker room. I don't know what possessed me to say it, but before I knew what I was doing I said "They're...beautiful." My stomach was in knots as I realized I had said it out loud. We were alone, with no witnesses. He could smash me right there and no one would ever know what happened. He smiled that cocky grin of his, then his expression became serious. "Show me," he said. "What?" I breathed, wide-eyed at this stud of a lineman who I thought was about to kill me. "Show me how beautiful you think they are," he whispered. "Go on...it's OK, Alex. I know...I know what you want, buddy. Really...there's no one here but us...Show me how beautiful they are." His voice was quiet and low, but pleading. I knew then that he was serious. He wanted this, and I wasn't about to waste any time. My hands were shaking like mad as I reached up and wrapped them around those hot soles. The second I touched them he let out a deep sigh. They were so warm and soft, yet solid as a rock. I could feel the thick veins under my fingertips. I tentatively squeezed them then ran my hands flat against the thick, velvety soles. I was finally able to touch these magnificent feet like I had fantasized so many times. He let out another deep sigh as I ran my fingers over each toe, feeling the firmness of each perfectly-trimmed nail. "Yeah, baby...that's so good...," he purred. "Now let me feel your tongue on them. Please, Alex...go on and taste 'em baby..." His eyes were full of pleading, and I understood that he shared my fetish. He needed me to worship his feet. There were a million places I wanted to start with my tongue, but I decided to start on one heel and lick slowly up to the toes. The taste was indescribable as I covered every inch of his sole, licking timidly at first until I saw his reaction. The aroma and taste were salty and musky, the ideal mixture of a sweating jock. "Oh fuck...that is fuckin' incredible, man...," he moaned and threw his head back against the wall. "Yeah lick those fuckin' feet, dude." He didn't need to tell me twice. I grew bolder as I started slobbering all around his massive sole, then I switched to the other one. He was pushing back against my mouth as I bit down lightly along the instep. I looked up and saw his jaw slack...he was practically panting. I was in total ecstasy myself as I savored the taste of this jock's foot. I worked back up to his toes and took his big toe in my mouth. I sucked it like a little cock, swirling my tongue all around it. "Oh...oh Alex, man...Seeing your handsome as fuck face with my foot in your mouth...damn...I have dreamed of this since I first saw you, dude...so fucking hot!" he moaned as he started to rub his substantially-growing bulge through his lycra pants. As I sucked my way down each of his right toes, I looked up and saw his thick jock snake press up against his left thigh. I knew he didn't wear a cup, but I was still amazed to see how much that fuckin' cock bulged in his uniform. He ran is brawny palm over it, squeezing the head as I ran my tongue between his toes and over the ball of his thick foot. My own cock was iron and leaking like a faucet in my shorts. I grabbed his other foot and brought it close so I could take both big toes in my mouth at once. It had the desired affect; Buck groaned and started to unbuckle his uniform pants. As I pressed both huge soles against my face danced my tongue over both of them, I heard the rustle of fabric as he unlaced and hauled out his fat jock hog. My eyes grew wide as I witnessed his 9-inch monster with its angry, red head jutting out from its foreskin. His saliva- covered feet were warm and wet against my face as I breathed in the aroma of feet and cock that filled my nose. I took his cue and freed my own respectable 8-incher through the leg of my shorts. He began to stroke his dick as I continued to worship his feet. The site of this suited-up linebacker whackin' his cock as I tongue-bathed his dogs was right out of my fantasies. Looking back, I was thankful everyone else was out on the football field. We were both so lost in our world together...jock and worshiper...that nothing else mattered. He was wiggling his feet, writhing against my face as I frantically tried to fit as much as I could in my mouth. I wanted to devour those magnificent feet as he jacked off above me. His breathing became rapid as he started to murmur incoherent encouragements to me. My brain was short-circuiting as I became a foot-worshiping machine, sucking in the toes and the heals of my Texas corn-fed linebacker. Through the haze of my bliss I became aware of his impending orgasm. His toes began to curl under my tongue and he started to grind his hips, thrusting his dripping jock cock through his hairy fist. I had a sudden urge to swallow something other than his feet. In one swift move I jumped up between his legs and swallowed the head of his cock, putting my own prick between his spit-slicked soles. He grabbed my head between his paws and my dick between his feet. "Swallow that fuckin' jock dick, baby. Yeah...I got yer hot cock in my feet, man...fuck my feet as you suck me off, buddy..." Now, I had never so much as touched another dick, let alone sucked one, but I've seen a fair amount of porn (don't ask how...that's another story), so I had some idea. I worked my tongue under his foreskin, licking around the head and shaft. This seemed to be right, since he thrust deeper into my throat and squeezed my cock between his feet. I took a deep breath and took the whole fat shaft. I could feel the arrowhead of the tip against the back of my throat and I swallowed until I was face first into his substantial bush. He began to piston in and out of my maw as I matched his rhythm thrusting my cock between his huge soles. We continued this suck-and-foot-fuck for about a minute longer before I felt his shaft swell and his cum tube start to shake. He grabbed the back of my head and fought to contain a scream as his jock sauce shot down my throat. That triggered my own load and I began to convulse as I shot a thick stream of semen on the table between his legs. As he pumped his seed into me, I fought to back his cock out so I could taste his cum. It was just like him...thick, strong, and sweet. Through my orgasmic haze I savored the taste of him in my mouth and breathed in the heavy scent of his jock-sweat crotch. I suckled on his deflating cock a second or two more, then finally broke away. My own dick dribbled the last bits of cum over the tops of Buck's feet, settling on the thick strands of hair that covered them. A sense of dread washed over me. It was one thing to seduce a horny jock, but when the cum was over, I have heard a lot of stories about jocks to suddenly get straight guilt once they blew their wad. I was staring down at his heaving, shimmering, fur-covered six pack. I felt his hand grab my chin and gently force me to look him in his rugged mug. I was waiting for that look...that "oh-shit-I-just-did-gay-shit" look, but instead his expression was soft, his eyes warm and content. I almost shit bricks when he brought his lips to mine and thrust his tongue into my mouth. The kiss was intense, strong, and passionate. This linebacker wasn't feeling guilty. He was all about it. I relaxed and wrapped an arm behind his shave-stubble head as we made out. When we finally broke the kiss, he shot me that big Texas shit-eating grin. "That was the best thing ever, baby," he purred. "I was hopin' we'd do that some day, but I didn't know if you'd be into a big ol' dumb jock like me." "Buck," I laughed, "I wouldn't have anyone else, ya big stud." His smile became uncharacteristically shy and he rested his forehead against mine, both of us panting with spent lust. "Well, I suppose I have a game to play...out there, I mean," he said, nodding his head back to the football field. I suddenly remembered where we were. The whole encounter was less than five or ten minutes, but kickoff was only a few more minutes away. I grabbed a towel and wiped up my load from the table, then gave into my urge and licked the remainder of my load from the tops of his feet. I snatched up the tape and did a record-fast job on his ankles. He quickly laced up his cleats. Before trotting out to the sidelines, he looked back at me. "Alex...next time it's my turn on you, buddy," he winked, popped on his helmet, and jogged out to the field. Next time...sweet. This was going to be an awesome season.