Valerie's Sweaty Hockey Feet

Hockey practice is usually a bitch, but today was a massive bitch. The conditioning drills had gassed everyone, even the team captain, Valerie. Valerie could taste the sweat dripping from her facemask, a salty grime that reminded her of cum. Her last boyfriend had ask her to swallow, which she half-heartedly agreed to. Not a good taste and it made her feel like a cheap slut. Mercifully, the last whistle blew, ending the hellish practice session.

Standing 5 foot 7 inches and athletically built, Valerie could command a presence in any room. With stylish blond hair (which was now soaked in sweat), baby blue eyes, and a girl-next door face, she received plenty of advances from men. Better yet, her feminine physique had taken full form, as her ass became nicely round from the endless squats in the weight room. Her breasts were perky, and with the right bra, could hypnotize any man.

With the rest of the girls making a quick exit from the locker room, Valerie, as the team captain, had the arduous task of watching game film for the upcoming opponent. As she began to untie her skates, she noticed "Little Johnny", the equipment manager, collecting the dirty laundry from the locker room. "Little Johnny" earned his nicknamed by the unfortunate (for him) fact that, well, he was not well hung. At a hockey party last season (who invited him was anybody's guess), Little Johnny got drunk. And when Little Johnny got drunk, he decided to perform his own 'Chippendales' routine for the hockey girls. Sadly for Johnny, his undersized penis and wild bush of pubic hair was met with hysterical laughter and thus his new nickname "Little Johnny."

Valerie was mostly incredulous towards Johnny. She couldn't understand how Johnny could live with the humiliation. How could a grown man (based on the size of his reproductive organ, a boy) enjoy being mocked on a daily basis? Nonetheless, Valerie was tired and decided to put Little Johnny to use.

"Johnny, get over here and take my skates off," Valerie said. With a dazed look and frightened grin, Johnny duly obeyed. Johnny kneeled before Valerie and took hold of her right skate. Using all his might (Johnny wasn't strong. In addition to his small package, his lack of strength was equally pathetic), he wrestled Valerie's skate off. Immediately, the aroma of foot- sweat filled the room. "Wow, that is hardcore stink," Valerie said.

"Yes it is," Johnny weakly replied. The smell resembled a mixture of leather, plastic, vinegar and cheese. Not for the faint of heart. Inhaling the stench, Johnny removed the left skate.

"Alright, Little Johnny, now my socks." Johnny used his hands and slowly peeled Valerie's socks off. As Johnny was removing her socks, Valerie noticed how flush Johnny's face had become, how unsteady his hands were. Wait a second, Valerie thought. That's not normal. Could he actually be enjoying this? She quickly vanquished the thought from her mind. No way. He's probably just nervous or something. With her socks removed, Valerie was now barefoot, her soaked feet making an imprint on the locker-room floor. Yet, despite her initial dismissal, Johnny was still staring at her feet. He made no attempt at eye contact.

"Uh, Johnny, is there a problem?" Valerie said.

In a trembling voice, Johnny replied, "no..., I um, well...I like your feet. They're beautiful." Valerie was both stunned and amused. Sure, her black nail polish pedicure would look cute in her summer sandals, but beautiful? Valerie had heard of foot fetishes, but to actually meet someone who had one? Weird. Gross. Disturbing. Guys were into pussy, tits and ass, right? Yet, here was Johnny, kneeling on the floor, mesmerized by stinky, sweaty feet.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Johnny lifted his head upward, his eyes making contact with the hockey princess. "Can I kiss your feet?" he said. Valerie's mind began to race. This was not something she had expected. Her first kinky experience had been with her last boyfriend, who would stick his tongue in her asshole. Reluctant at first, when she finally consented, she never regretted it! Having a tongue in your asshole felt great! When she told her girlfriends about the boyfriend-butt-licker, they had giggled for hours, jealously asking for more details. But what would her friends think now? A pathetic, locker-room equipment boy, begging to kiss her feet? Her feet, that had been trapped inside a hockey skate for the last 2 hours?

Broken from her trance, it was decision time. To indulge Little Johnny in his fetish or to kick his sorry ass out? "Ok Johnny. You can kiss my feet. Just a couple smooches." Johnny wasted no time. He smacked his lips on Valerie's sweaty feet, passionately kissing her feet like a devoted servant. Valerie thought of pulling away, to end this bizarre affair before it got any creepier. But his moist lips on her feet had felt better than she anticipated. Taking the initiative, Johnny began licking the bottom of her bare soles, running his tongue from her heel to the top of her toes. He French-kissed the inset of her highly arched soles, inhaling her scent passionately.

His tongue moved in between her toes, removing the toe-jam. Johnny became a man possessed, worshipping her feet like his life depended on it. He then started sucking on Valerie's toes. Valerie's pedicured toes went into his mouth, one by one. Starting with her big toe, Johnny sucked all of her flawlessly rounded toes with maximum suction. To Valerie's perspective, it look like he was deep-throating her feet, like porn-star would deep throat a dick!

As Johnny continued his lovemaking on her tootsies, he reached into his pants and ferociously jerked his dick. With Valerie's foot sliding in and out of his mouth, he creamed his pants, shooting his load all over his hand and drenching his crotch with cum. Hyperventilating, Johnny fell to the ground in a state of ecstasy. Valerie was in state of disbelief. Did that just happen? Am I in a dream? Did some guy just jizz while sucking on my toes? Even more unsettling for Valerie, was the realization that she was turned on. Having her feet worshiped had made her wet. No one could ever know any of this.

Recollecting herself, Valerie kicked Little Johnny in the ribs, snapping him out of his daze. "Johnny, if you ever mention this to anyone, you are so dead," she said. Johnny nodded sheepishly, as he headed for the exit. "Oh, and by the way, I hope you like the taste of my sweaty feet, because tomorrow we have double practice sessions!" Johnny's face turned pale, as the blood rushed from his face. "And I think..." Valerie started, "that we should add to your nickname. How does 'foot-slut' sound!!?" "Foot-Slut" Johnny bolted from the room, fear-stricken and panicked. Valerie could only smile and roll her eyes. Time to watch game film.