Sweaty Shoe Fun at the Gym

Tyson looked very puzzled at me. Apparently, he had expected me to go down. I was so drunk, he could have cracked my skull. I wouldn't have felt it. Clean and technical was his domain. I fight dumb and loud. So, I rushed forward. A punch hit my eye. A knee hit my gut. That was the defense shield. I broke through it. I bear hugged him with his arms at his side. Then, I head butted. I head butted him repeatedly over and over. The blood of his broken nose started running down my face. I could taste the sweetness of it. Somewhere around me I sensed the silence of shock. When his body felt limp in my embrace I let him fall to the floor. Three black belts overcome by one bottle of whisky and one bottle of vodka. I needed those painkillers soon.

"You are my hero cheered," Jenny. "He's been beating up my brother since third grade." I pumped a fist for her in the air. Her pony tail whipped through the air from the excitement of her jumping.

"I'm gonna find me a better boyfriend," said Tyson's girlfriend wagging her finger and shaking her ass in the opposite direction. Everyone left him. That was some lesson about the value of true friends.

I felt sorry for the guy on the floor with the blood puddle in front of his face. That had been me often enough, only it was usually in some dark alley and a bad guy would nail me into a shipping container destined for Siberia. So, I picked him up. I wrapped my arm around him and dragged him with me to the treadmill. Jenny high fived me before she went back to her reception desk.

So, we were sitting side by side on the treadmill in front of the back wall. His head was resting on my shoulder. When he lifted it, I offered him my Starbucks. "Hey, I don't feel like coffee." "Trust me, it's not coffee." He took a sip and then a gulp. "You're a cool guy." I padded him on the thigh fondly. "Do you see that bubble butt," I pointed at the Latina with the mini braids and the tight of soft fabric that was rolled over on top. "I call her Juanita." "How do you know that?" "Her butt just feels like that." "Ugh, and that's Trish. That butt just feels so tight. And it's this Asian girl that's always so serious. She is hardcore. Trish sounds hardcore and focused." "Yeah, you got it."

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"Hey Jason, we are closing. You have to leave. Barry, you can stay if you help me stretch." Jenny interrupted our male bonding. The butts on the treadmills had thinned out considerably. We were both starring into the void in drunk stupor.

"Yeah, sure. I don't have anywhere to go. I might as well hang around. Tyson, don't pick fights with strangers. You never know whom you get. One day, you'll get yourself killed that way."

Jenny locked up the front door. She turned off half the lights and gave everything an intimate feel. She let me to the backroom with the mats on the ground. Her gait had the pep of a young cheery person. Her sneakers were badly worn out with cracks at the bent points. Gray sheen covered the white surfaces that probably didn't wash out anymore. She had below the ankle socks that made her appear to be barefoot in her sneakers, if one didn't pay careful attention.

"There is something that draws me in about you. You seem so strong, so manly, so undeviating."

It sure felt good to be buttered up by a college coed that didn't know the devil inside of me.

She kicked of her sneakers and slipped on her back. She stretched one leg up. Her body lay there for my eyes to gaze over her clothing. The shorts and t-shirt were loose. Underneath with a tight fighting sports bra. She was an average type of girl, who watched her weight and worked out regularly. She had blue eyes and a pink mouth.

My hands grabbed her socked heel and pushed back. It felt soft for a few inches. Then the hard resistance came to give her a stretch. The sock felt warm and moist my hand, tender.

"I feel embarrassed about my socks. They must be smelly."

Indeed, there was the intimate aroma of cheese that feet emanated that were locked up all day in a stinky old sneaker. Some good sweating and running was probably thrown in for good measure as well. I pulled in the air a little deeper. And there were aroma points that definitely smelled of young woman. There is a reaction that the strong aroma evokes. One has to always make a strong decision of either repulsion or absolute ravishing desire. I always went with desire.

It was time to switch legs. My now free hand cleared an itch in my face. And the aroma was stronger and more vivid now. Her smell had transferred onto my hand. Her essence and intimacy had spread onto me. I did a double scratch to draw in more of that good scent.

She rolled over on her belly. Lift up my feet. I grabbed her ankles and pulled her up. First her legs lifted and then her hips. I was holding her like one would hold a wheel barrow that is dumped out forward. This gave me a chance to gaze at her firm hamstrings and follow the back strings of her bra. "Higher," she said. Her feet came higher. I could smell them now.

"Let me take my socks off. Perhaps, that's less smelly."

She stuck her fingers under her socks and pulled them off. They rolled into a little ball. She discarded them. She had tasteful pink nail paint. Her toes were delicate and small. Her feet were round in all the right places and soft.

She lay down on her back. She put the soles of her feet together and pulled them closer to her chest. "Push please," she breathed already struggling from the stretch. I grabbed her bare feet, pinned them together, and pushed them down toward her chest. Her butt lifted up. Her face got a very concentrated expression. She was feeling the depth of the stretch and struggling to let it go deeper. The pain stimulation seemed to be right at the threshold of her saying "stop." Yet, he wanted it deeper. So I watched her bare feet folded together like hands for a prayer with her intimate facial expressions displaying all kind of impulses rushing over her face. And I was so up close to her blue iris that her gaze drew me in.

"That's good. I'll go take a shower now."

Jenny got up and disappeared into the women's locker room. The gym was empty. She had left her socks and sneakers behind. I grabbed her worn sneaker. They are so small. Women shoes, young cute women shoes especially, are so small compared to my leather loafers. The print on the inside of her shoe was completely worn and smudged from her sweat.

Taking a sniff directly from her shoes was intense. Imagine the Swiss cheese that comes from the most hidden and remote cabin in the Alps. I had to pause. Like with any good drug, more is always better if you can handle it. So, I dove my nose back in. The smell and the limbic part of my brain that got triggered flooded everything. I had a raging hard-on and a ravishing desire.

Without thought, I lay flat on the ground and dove my nose into one sneaker. The depravity of diving my whole face into it, not only smelling it, but actually touching, really pressing into it, drove me even more nuts. The other sneaker, I placed under my hip. I unzipped by pants to let the raging hard-on out and dive into her sneaker. Her shoe against my hard-on with its veins popping full of blood was tremendous. The head of my penis could feel the surface texture of her inside sole. Just all those moist sweat fumes soaking my dick like a wet sauna soaks the skin was an extreme turn-on.

So, I kept humping one shoe and sniffing the other shoe. Perhaps, I was a little too abandoned. However, the shower was still running hard. The gym was empty. I could safely get carried away a little. The foot stank sent feeling of home, closeness, and nasty/dirty through me. I tried licking her shoe. The licking wasn't as good as the smell.

And then I was on the verge. My penis was pulsing. The tingling was about to reach its crescendo. And I let it happen. The yummy feeling of an orgasm spread through me. My dick was a stick of purse happiness. Spurts of cum shot out of me and cozied with her oh-so intimate sweat soaked old sneaker. White globs of shot out. One blob piled on top of the next. A deep thigh unleashed from the depth of my diaphragm. Alcohol, pain killers, and sex are a wonderful relieve.

The shower stopped. I stopped breathing. I zipped up my pants. I pretended to be stretching. I hadn't done it in years. My body was stiff like a board from all the fractures, scars, stitches, and bruises. Jenny was cheery, when she arrived in the door of the women's locker room. Her hair was wet. She had slipped into tight jeans and a t-shirt.

"Oh, I forgot my shoes here. I'm so sorry. They must have been stinking up the room." She slipped into her shoes barefoot. The right foot squeaked with every step. My cum was oozing through the mesh with each step. And as she lifted her foot, it would ooze back in between her toes.

"Oh dear, my shoes feel so wet. I should really get new ones. It's nasty. Though secretly, I actually enjoy the warm gooey feeling." She snickered and blushed a little. I kept watching my white cum reappear through the mesh and slosh around her feet. I listened to the squeaking that the wetness made on the insole rubbing against her bare smooth skin.

She walked me out and said, "Come by again tomorrow."

(To be continued.)