July 7, 2010

SAM SHARPE

When I fantasize about a woman, I fantasize about her in her entirety. I find virtually every single inch of the female form to be tantalizing. Lips? Check. Thighs? Yessir. Booty? Amen. Breasts? Affirmative. Ankles? Uh huh. Collarbone? Yep. Thighs?….I think you catch my drift. And anytime I’m taking a ride in the cockpit (whether it’s a solo or tandem trip) the sheer overwhelming volume of “God I gotta have some of thatness” that is the female form is an undeniable force of nature. My appreciation for the female body knows no bounds.

One exception. Feet. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve nibbled, licked and sucked toes with the best of them, but it’s always for her benefit, for her pleasure. I just don’t get excited about toes. On the other hand, my bredren Mikey (who I last mentioned in Even With Two Heads post) is straight up obsessed with feet. What seemed to start as a mild preoccupation back in our high school days became obsession in adulthood. Now, Mikey will dismiss any girl for feet that are substandard. Forget how smart she is. Forget the fact that her cleavage looks like it was sculpted by Rodin. Ignore the fact that her booty looks like it is dipped in molasses. If her feet aren’t perfectly manicured, sufficiently soft and don’t meet some mythical proportional ideal that exists in his mind alone, Mikey can’t do it.

Case in point—Selena Gonzalez. Selena was this fine ass girl who went to our high school. She was all kinds of sexy. You know how in some schools things get segregated and people only date their own—y’know black guys only dating black girls, white guys only dating white girls, asian guys only dating asian girls—well our school wasn’t all that different. You wouldn’t dare date a woman from another side. Unless her name was Selena Gonzalez. Every straight boy (and probably some gay ones too) wanted to take a stripe off of Selena Gonzalez.

Anyway, years after we’d graduated high school, when we were still in our “not a boy, not yet a grown man” phase (yes, I just referenced a Britney Spears song) Mikey and I were out drinking when we ran into Selena and a group of her friends. We ended up joining them in their booth at the back of the bar. From word go, Selena was all over him. Talking about “Mikey, you’re so hot” and “I’ve always wanted you” and on and on it went. It looked like an open and shut case. Mikey was going to live out one of our high school dreams—slamming Selena Gonzalez–and I was going to be there to bear witness. Just when I was entertaining thoughts of the juicy story Mikey was going to be telling me the next day, Selena excused herself from the table and went to the bathroom.

Then it all went pear shaped. I saw them. I knew Mikey saw them. She had (to put it politely) substandard feet. In that instant I knew our dream was over. I don’t know if it was the shoes she was wearing or some harsh and shoddy bar lighting, but for some reason her feet looked long and broad like loaves of bread. Plus, even to me, a man who doesn’t claim to be into feet, they were tough looking. It was as if she’d been kicking stones or breaking cinder blocks with them in her spare time. Needless to say, soon after Selena returned from the ladies’ room with freshly applied lip gloss, obviously ready to get her flirt on, Mikey made up some weak excuse to leave and we breezed out of there in a flash.

Clearly traumatized by what he’d seen, Mikey spent the rest of the evening peppering me with questions (that I couldn’t answer) about her ugly feet:

“How come  we didn’t notice them in high school?”

“They couldn’t have been that ugly all along right? Sam, her feet weren’t always that ugly?”

“How can she go outside in open toe sandals with feet like that?”

“How could such busted feet be attached to such a pretty girl?”

and my personal favourite,

“Can we be sure those feet were actually human?”

Even though I had known all along about Mikey’s predilection for feet, I was more than a bit suprised by his quick dismissal of Selena. She is/was fine people. Really, REALLY fine – even with the ugly feet. (Is it alright if I say that I’m still a little bitter about it? I was all ready to live vicariously through Mikey. To fulfill my own thwarted desire to lick every inch of Selena’s body, with the exception of her feet, through my friend’s good fortune. Only for him to go f*** it up because he couldn’t get past her feet. Couldn’t he have just asked her to keep her socks on?)

Privately, I couldn’t help but be a little judgmental. I know that foot worship is the most common sexual fetish, but I couldn’t help but think that Mikey was crazy, that he was being way too rigid. Plus, whenever I think of foot fetishists all these crazy images and visuals come to my mind (don’t ask).

But to be fair, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that though the sheer intensity of Mikey’s tastes may trump some of my own, I myself have some pretty serious obsessions. Specific things turn me on and they  turn me on in very specific ways. And as they say, let he who is without kink cast the first stone.

Share This

---

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
•