Little Feet

This short story comes with the ‘contains adult content’ warning, so if you are under 18 or find graphic descriptions of parts of the body or sexual content offensive, this may not be for you… 😉

Little Feet – 956 words

Nathan inhaled deeply and held his breath, allowing the chemicals in the smoke to pass into his bloodstream. He exhaled slowly, feeling the cool wave of intoxication that followed liberate his mind from the cage of reason. Under the covers at his side, thin bony fingers found the outside of his right thigh and slipped softly over the top of it to explore his groin. 

He moaned appreciatively, opening his legs a little more as those fingers closed around his tightening balls and began squeezing and tugging in a gentle rhythm that saw his cock harden in anticipation.

Nathan peered through slitted eyes at the two pairs of feet protruding from the bottom of the quilt. The first pair, his own, were small and plump with short, hairy toes that were so far apart they seemed to be practising social distancing. The second pair were narrow and bony, and considerably longer, with bunions on the joints at the base of each big toe – a testament to their years of incarceration in ill-fitting, poor-quality loafers.

The long toes of those feet, he observed, were crowded together, as if jostling for position at the front of an imaginary queue, big toes leaning towards their fellows, like the drunks at the bar where he had met Mimi earlier that evening. The toenails, chipped and frayed at the ends, and coated in Ferrari-red nail polish that stopped a few millimetres from the base of each nail bed, told the tale of a girl who sometimes made the effort, but tonight, had not.

He didn’t much care for feet and he tried hard not to notice them now, but the disparity in size and shape between his own feet and those of the girl beside him began to gnaw at his confidence. 

“Wow,” said Mimi from beside him, as if reading his mind, “look at your feet!” 

“What?” Nathan asked, his discomfort growing and his erection beginning to wilt. It was as if the blood had fled from his penis and headed straight to his cheeks. 

“Well…” she giggled, “they are kind of small, aren’t they?” 

Nathan studied the ceiling for the longest of seconds then threw back the cover, stood up and gathered his clothes from the nearby chair. 

Mimi propped herself up on her elbows and watched, incredulous, as Nathan began hurriedly dressing, keeping his back to her at all times. “What the fuck? It’s not like I was talking about your cock, is it? Why are you so fucking sensitive?”

She reached over to the bedside table and picked up a lighter and an ashtray with the remains of the half-smoked spliff. Sitting up and scooting back in the bed to lean against the headboard, she lit up, taking a long, slow drag on the joint. Smoke curled around her tongue and trailed from her open mouth as she held it in, watching in amusement as Nathan prepared to depart.

“Look it’s no big deal,” she offered, “I only said it because my feet are so big, and I thought that was what you were looking at.” He stopped struggling with his socks and turned to look at her. “Come on,” she coaxed, “come back to bed.” She gave him her best seductive smile and patted the covers next to her where he had lain just a minute before. 

Nathan considered his next move. On the one hand, he wanted to storm out of the room in righteous indignation, but on the other, this was the closest he had come to getting laid in over a year, and before that, for almost two. To say nothing of the fact that he had bought her drinks all night and to leave now without a quid pro quo would leave a sour taste in his mouth that even the cheap breath mints in his pocket would struggle to clear.

He sighed, climbed onto the bed next to her, shirt half unbuttoned, trousers and one sock on, and took the spliff from her hand. “Your feet aren’t that big.” He offered peaceably, accepting her words of mitigation. 

She put her head on his shoulder and began teasing the buttons of his shirt undone. When only one remained closed, she slipped her hand inside the shirt and began caressing his nipples. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes and focused on the pleasure of her touch as his manhood, happy to let bygones be bygones, rose like Lazarus from the grave.

She kissed and nibbled at his ear then whispered softly; “You are a lucky boy, aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am.” He purred, folding his arms behind his back.

She planted kisses like tiny footprints, working her way down his neck as she opened the final button on his shirt, her soft lips almost to his navel. “You must save a fortune.” She continued, flicking her tongue across his hairless stomach as her hands grappled with his belt.

“Sorry?” he mumbled in confusion, eyes opening just enough to see the grinning face looking back at him. 

“Well, they don’t charge VAT on children’s shoes, do they? That’s 20% off every pair you buy!” She collapsed onto her side, howling with laughter at her own joke. Nathan stood up, his rage a silent storm within him as her hysterics showed no sign of abating. 

He finished dressing as quickly as he deemed dignified, tied his shoelaces in a double knot, and slipped out of the attic bedsit and down the three flights of stairs to the deserted street below. From the open window above, the sound of Mimi’s hysterical cackle cut the night air like lemon juice through oil, mocking his tiny feet, long after the sound of his footsteps had faded into the night.

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