Are You Lookin’ at My Feet?
A satirical erotic fantasy in two chapters – For adult masturbators only – By Richard Lovel – Copyright 2026 (all rights reserved) = RL-2026-01-01
Chapter Index
Chapter Two
Alice fidgeted in her chair in a private study room at the library, chemistry textbook open before her. Miles sat opposite across the small library table, hunched over his laptop.
“Mind if I get comfortable?” Alice asked, “These library chairs are harder than church pews.”
Miles glanced up briefly. “Uh, sure. Whatever you need.”
Alice pushed her textbook aside and propped her feet on the edge of the table. For a few seconds she dangled her sandals from her toes, then dropped them clattering to the floor. She extended her naked feet across the table in his direction, her toes flexing and unfurling like sea anemones sensing prey.
“Do my bare feet here bother you?” she asked, watching him carefully. “Some people don’t like feet in their face.”
Miles’s eyes darted to her feet, then quickly away. “Uh… no.”
Alice feigned concentration on her textbook, idly highlighting a random sentence while secretly watching Miles over the top of the page. Just as Becky had taught her, she flexed her toes and scrunched the soles of her feet—moves that looked unconscious, but were anything but.
Miles shifted in his chair. Every few seconds, his gaze would flicker to her feet before jerking away.
“You seem a little distracted. Somethin’ botherin’ you?” she asked, her voice dripping with honeysuckle innocence.
Before Miles could stammer out a response, the door to the study room opened and Becky entered.
“Hey, guys, the other study rooms are all full. Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” Alice replied, not moving her feet from the table.
Miles shrank in his chair. “S-sure.”
Becky took a seat across from Miles and took out her phone. They all worked silently for several minutes. Miles attempted to study, but his eyes kept darting to Alice’s feet, lingering longer each time.
Alice lowered her textbook inch by inch, tracking the movement of his eyes until their gazes met. The moment held, taut and electric—Miles frozen, wide-eyed, caught like a deer in headlights.
“What are you starin’ at?” Alice asked, at first quizzical. “ Are you lookin’ at my feet?”
Miles’s face drained of color, then flushed crimson. “What? N-no! I was just—the assignment—I was—”
“I saw. You were peekin’ at them,” Alice insisted, sitting up straight and removing her feet from the table. “You been lookin’ at my bare feet this whole time.”
Becky looked up from her phone. “Oh my God, was he? That’s so creepy.” She pointed to Miles’s lap. “Jesus, look at that! He’s got a hard-on!”
Miles clasped his hands over his crotch, panic written across his face. “No, I—you don’t understand—”
Alice pressed. “You’re always lookin’ at them in chem lab, too. What’s so interestin’ about my feet? Are you one of those boys that gets off to girls feet?”
“I don’t—that’s not—” Miles sputtered, his eyes darting frantically between the two women and the door.
“Save it, foot freak.” Becky said coldly, holding up her phone displaying a series of photos—Miles staring at Alice’s feet, his gaze fixed hungrily on her toes.
“I bet if we took these to the college Title IX office, you’d be in serious trouble,” Alice said. “This is, like, non-consensual… something.”
“Sexual harassment,” Becky supplied. “And I think if they searched your phone, they’d find a whole collection of foot porn. Maybe even photos you’ve taken of Alice without her permission.”
Miles’s shoulders slumped as the fight drained out of him. “Please,” he whispered. “Please don’t report me. I’ll lose my scholarship and ….”
Becky pressed, “You’ve been masturbating to Alice’s feet, haven’t you? Slinking off to your little masturbatorium and jerking off to sneak photos of her feet.”
Miles closed his eyes. “Yes,” his voice barely audible.
Alice recoiled, clutching her arms around herself as if chilled. Tears brimmed, her voice brittle. “Oh, Lord. I feel violated. Used. Like you… did those filthy things while thinking of me. It feels like you raped me with your eyes.”
Miles kept his gaze locked on the table, voice cracking. “I know it’s sick. I can’t help it. I’ve tried to stop.”
“You’ve been using me, Miles. Getting off to my feet, all without my knowledge…. It’s like you took something from me.”
Miles shrank further, face crumpling. “I’m so sorry. Please—please don’t tell anyone. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t ruin me.”
The word “anything” hung in the air between them.The moment had arrived.
“Anything?” Becky repeated. “So if we decide to deal with this ourselves instead of reporting you, you’d go along with it?”
Miles nodded again, more hopefully this time. “Yes, anything. Whatever you want.”
Becky said, “Be careful, foot freak. Anything means ‘anything’.”
“Whatever you say…”
Alice stared directly at him, savoring how he squirmed under her scrutiny. “OK, here’s for starters. I want to see exactly what you do.” She extended her legs across the table again, turning her feet so her naked soles faced him directly.
“Show us. Right now. Drop your pants and show me how you get off to my feet. Or I swear, I’ll make sure everyone knows what a little pervert you are.”
“What?” Miles looked up, confusion momentarily displacing his shame.
“It’s not rocket science, pervert,” Becky taunted, gesturing toward his pants. “Show us how you masturbate to Alice’s feet.”
“Unless you’d prefer we take these photos to the Dean,” Alice said.
For a long moment, Miles just sat there, paralyzed. Then, with trembling hands, he unzipped his jeans. He hesitated before pushing them down to his knees, revealing his erection already straining against his boxers. With a final, defeated look, he pulled his boxers down as well, his penis springing free.
“Go on,” Becky encouraged, her phone now obviously recording. “Jerk off like you do to your pictures of her feet.”
Miles wrapped his hand around himself and began to stroke. Alice watched, both appalled and fascinated. Miles kept his eyes downward, determined to show contrition, but his need betrayed him. Every few strokes, his gaze would flicker to her feet—quick, guilty glances before darting away again.
Alice urged in a softer voice. “Go ahead, Miles. It’s OK. Look at them. Look at my feet while you do it. Do you like my soles?” She flexed her foot, creating an arch. “Do you like when I wrinkle my soles like this?”
Miles’s eyes flew to her feet, and his hand moved faster. “I love your soles,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “How when you wrinkle them.”
“What about toes? Do you like my toes?” Alice spread her toes wide. “What about when I spread them like this?”
A moan escaped Miles, and his strokes became more urgent.
“Slow down,” Becky commanded sharply. “We didn’t say you could finish yet.”
Miles whimpered but obeyed, his hand slowing.
“So tell us, Miles,” Becky said, “when did this little obsession of yours begin? People don’t just wake up one day with a foot fetish.”
Miles gulped and began telling. “I was real shy. Never dated. There were these girls in my class—they were the popular ones—they found out I had a crush on one of them.”
“What happened?”
“They cornered me behind the gym during lunch break. Four of them. They pushed me down on the grass and—and they held me there. They took off their shoes, and they…” He trailed off.
“They what?” Becky prodded.
“They trampled me,” Miles said, the words rushing out now. “Barefoot. Standing on my chest, my stomach. Laughing. Calling me names. Saying no girl would ever want me.”
“And how did that make you feel?” Alice asked, surprised by the gentleness in her own voice.
Miles’s face flushed deeper. “Humiliated. But also…I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Try,” Becky commanded.
“It felt good,” he confessed. “The weight of them on me. Their bare feet. The way they laughed. I couldn’t stop thinking about it afterward. I started…”
“And now you masturbate to the memory of those girls trampling you,” Alice added, watching his reaction carefully.
Miles nodded miserably. Becky and Alice exchanged another look—she understood what Becky was suggesting. She gave a small nod.
“Take everything off,” Becky ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Everything. And lie on the floor.”
Miles hesitated, his hand stilling.
“Now,” Alice added. “Unless you want the whole school to know about this.” Miles stripped. Naked and vulnerable, he lowered himself to the floor and lay flat on his back.
Alice and Becky dragged their chairs to either side of Miles’s prone body. Becky slipped off her shoes and both girls placed their bare feet on him—Becky’s red-painted toes on his chest, Alice’s white ones on his stomach.
The contact of her skin against his sent an unexpected thrill through Alice. She could feel his rapid heartbeat, the shallow rise and fall of his breathing. He trembled beneath her touch, his erection perpendicular against his abdomen.
“Look at you,” Alice said with mock disapproval. “A real man would never let girls do this to him.” She pressed her foot a little more firmly against his stomach, feeling him quiver.
“Tell us, Miles,” Becky continued, dragging her foot slowly across his chest, “have you ever had actual sex with a girl? Real sex, not just jerking your dick to foot fantasies.”
Miles closed his eyes. “No,” he whispered.
“I didn’t think so. Your little fetish has ruined your chances of ever getting real pussy. What girl wants to hook up with a foot freak?”
Alice made a face. “Not this girl, no way.”
“But that’s OK with you, isn’t it, Miles? You don’t want a girl to spread her legs for you—just take her shoes off.”
Miles answered with a foolish grin and stroked steadily.
Alice felt a twinge of sympathy. “But it’s kinda cute, the way he has so much fun, just lookin’ at my feet.”
She moved her foot lower, rubbing her sole along his torso, then along his inner thigh—close to, but not touching, his erection.
“Tell me somethin’, Miles,” Alice said. “What do you think about, lookin’ at my pictures and playin’ with yourself? What would you like to do with my feet?”
“Please,” he breathed. “Please let me touch them.”
“Just touch them? How?”
“Just with my hands. Please. I want to feel your feet.”
Alice considered this. “You can massage them. But not while you’re touchin’ yourself.”
Miles immediately released his penis. Alice extended her right foot toward him, and he took it reverently in both hands. His touch was gentle as his thumbs pressed into her arch.
“Oh,” she gasped, unprepared for how good it felt.
He fondled her foot, applying pressure to her arch, her heel, between each toe. It was blissful. Alice sank back, caught off guard by the waves of pleasure radiating from her foot up her leg.
“Is this okay?” Miles asked, his voice thick.
“Yes,” she managed, as he massaged each toe individually.
Something unexpected was happening. The sensation of his fingers on her foot was making her feel warm between her thighs. She’d never imagined foot massages could feel so… intimate.
Miles switched to her left foot, his abandoned erection still bobbing. The look of concentration on his face as he worked her foot was almost sweet.
He pressed his thumbs into the ball of her foot, and Alice had to bite back a moan. The feeling was building, spreading heat through her pelvis.This wasn’t part of the plan—she was supposed to be in control, not…getting wet.
“Stop,” she said suddenly, pulling her foot away.
Miles looked up, confused. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, I just—” Alice struggled to regain her composure. “That’s enough of that. You can… you can go back to touching yourself again.”
His hand returned to his erection. Alice took a deep breath. The unexpected arousal she’d felt during the massage was unexpected. Perhaps there was more to this arrangement than she’d initially thought.
Alice replaced both feet on Miles’ stomach. “You like this, don’t you?” she asked, sliding her right foot lower along his torso. “Just my bare feet on your skin?”
Miles nodded, his hand working steadily on his erection. “Yes. So much.”
Alice resumed her slow toe-yoga, spreading her toes wide, then squeezing them together, curling them downward, then extending them upward—each movement deliberate and unhurried. Miles watched, transfixed by every subtle motion.
“Oh God,” he whispered. His hand moved faster. “Your toes… the way they move…”
She wiggled her toes again, watching his eyes. “Poor thing. You’re about to bust, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he admitted, his voice strained.
Alice moved her right foot closer to his erection, hovering just above it. “Do you want to rub it against my foot? Just a little?”
Miles nodded frantically. “Please, Alice. Please.”
She moved her foot so her sole made contact with the underside of his shaft. Miles gasped, his whole body tensing.
“Hump against it if you want,” she offered, pleased by her own generosity.
He thrust upward, rubbing himself against the arch of her foot. The sensation felt strange to her but not unpleasant—his hardness pressing against her soft skin, the heat of him warming her sole. She liked the way his penis fit perfectly into the curve of her arch.
“Look at you,” Alice murmured. “So desperate for my feet.”
Becky said “Yeah, humping a girl’s foot instead of her pussy. Real pussy scares you, doesn’t it? Pathetic.”
This gave Alice an idea. She brought her left foot up alongside, opposed to her right, trapping Miles’ penis between her arches, creating what Becky had described as a ‘foot pussy’. Miles moaned—a sound of pure desperation and need.
“It’s so easy for a girl to take care of you, Miles,” Alice laughed, squeezing her arches together around him. “There’s all those boys chasin’ after me, tryin’ to get me to do things, and all you need is my feet.”
Miles thrust between Alice’s arches, his movements becoming more frantic. Just as his breathing indicated he was close, Alice suddenly moved her feet apart, releasing him.
“Wait,” she said. “Not yet.”
“Please,” Miles begged, his voice breaking. “I’m so close.”
“You want me to finish you, don’t you?” Alice asked, resting her feet on his thighs again. “But you’ll have to earn it.”
“Anything,” he promised. “I’ll do anything. Please.”
“Anything?” Alice considered this. “How about you do all the grunt work in chem lab? Clean the equipment, write up the boring parts of the reports?”
“Yes, yes, I will.”
“And you’ll be my foot boy? Available whenever I want a foot massage?”
“God, yes,” Miles agreed frantically. “I’d do that if you’d just let me.”
“Alright then. How do you want to finish? Between my soles, or my toes?”
Miles hesitated, overwhelmed by the choice. “Your… your toes. Please.”
“Good choice,” Alice said, bringing her feet together again. She positioned her toes along his shaft, top and bottom sides, creating a narrow space between them. She moved her feet up and down, stroking with her toes.
“Oh God,” Miles moaned. “I’m going to—”
“Go ahead. Come for me, foot boy,” Alice commanded, drawing it out, not increasing the speed of her strokes.
Miles’ body tensed, and began ejaculating between her toes, his warm semen spilling over her feet. Alice watched in fascination as he shuddered through his orgasm, his face a mask of ecstasy and relief.
At last the flow ebbed, leaving her toes coated with his ejaculate. She raised one foot toward his face. “Clean up your mess like a good foot boy.”
Miles leaned forward and began licking the toes clean, his tongue working methodically to remove every drop, then moving to the other foot. The sensation sent unexpected tingles through Alice again, but she maintained her composure this time.
Becky grinned, holding up her phone. “I got the whole thing on video. This is going in a special album—just for us all to enjoy.”
Miles looked up, panic flashing across his face.
“Don’t worry,” Alice reassured him. “It’ll be our little secret. As long as you’re my good foot boy and do exactly as I say.”
Relief washed over his features. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Alice…and Becky.”
“Get dressed. “We have chemistry to study.”
As Miles scrambled to obey, Alice caught Becky’s eye again and saw her own satisfaction mirrored there.
~ ~ ~ end ~ ~ ~