Some dude approached a friend with the opening line, “Hey, you’ve got cute feet” and handed him a card inviting him to a private foot fetish party. I’m not feeling left out, just curious: What makes for cute feet? Any guidance would be much appreciated.
— Not your sole admirer
What makes a good-looking foot? I don’t know. What makes a good-looking man?
A friend pointed to a “gorgeous” guy, once. I thought he was kidding. The guy had a face that would make a train take a dirt road.
There’s no accounting for taste in men, so why should there be for feet?
As far as the foot fetish parties, use your imagination. They’re not comparing hands.
They’re doing everything you can do to feet: Toe sucking, sole sucking, foot tickling, boot licking, shoe worship, and of course, foot massage.
Oh, and let us not forget the ultimate in a foot fetish party: sock sniffing. Now *there’s* an activity I don’t get nearly enough of. There’s nothing I’d rather do than pull up a chair and inhale a soiled sock like a line of coke.
Sorry, but if I got stuck at a party like that I’d be eyeing the exits and thinking, “Feets don’t fail me now.”
Private foot parties often have “theme” nights. In New York, for instance, they have annual events like “The Annual Foot Ball,” proving that it’s not the sweaty stinky feet that make you nauseous, it’s the incessant puns.
“Sole Train: Feet of Flava,” is another. Stand back, I’m getting hard.
Sometimes the foot freaks hold contests like Biggest Feet, Stinkiest Socks and Best Foot Strip Tease. We can only hope the guys at these parties aren’t marketing experts. Imagine their first product: A peanut butter and toe jam sandwich.
I’ve been seeing this guy for three years but he’s not out. He hangs out with straight friends and every two or three weeks he pops in with a bag of cocaine and we f–k. The guy thinks we’re boyfriends; I think we’re f–k buddies. He even said if he ever caught me with another guy, we’re through. I lost it at that point and yelled, “WE’VE NEVER DATED AND WE NEVER WILL BECAUSE ALL I WANT IS YOUR COCK!”
He said, “F–k you, pass the cocaine,” and we f–ked again.
So here’s my question: How do you tell someone he’s a f–k buddy when he insists he’s a boyfriend?
*You’re* confused? Try reading the letter you wrote.
Actually, I was f–king a guy like that once. He kept insisting he was “The One” for me. Yes, I told him, “Of Many.”
He still didn’t get it.
But then how could he? He once spent 20 minutes staring at a carton of juice because it said, “concentrate.”
In addition to stupidity, the problem with these guys is that they don’t listen very well. You say “You’re nice, but…” and they hear “Your nice butt…”
My advice is to keep f–king him till he goes away. Don’t have any conversations about your “relationship.” If he brings it up just do what I do: push yourself further into his mouth. Works every time.
If he really wanted to date you he’d ask you out. When he does, you’ll know your f–king days are numbered. Even idiots end up asking themselves why the guys they’re f–king should buy the pig when the milk is free.