The Linebacker’s Feet

Date: Sun, 3 Jan 2010 22:22:42 -0500
From: Bearfoot Luver
Subject: The Linebacker’s Feet

This story is purely a work of fiction. As always, if you are under the age
of 18, or if the local laws in your area prohibit viewing of such material,
do not continue. This is my first story submission, so feedback
(constructive, that is) is appreciated. Email me at mellobearman@gmail.com.
I hope you enjoy!

M/M, feet, oral, jocks

The Linebacker’s Feet

Don’t get me wrong. I love football for the game; the battle on the
gridiron, the impossible catches, the last-minute comebacks, and
head-to-head matchups are great. Really, though, for me it’s about the
men. Ever since I can remember I’ve been attracted to football players. I
got into the game at an early age, and it certainly didn’t seem unusual for
a boy to love football. As I got a bit older, I realized that my teammates,
with their young muscles packed into their sweaty gear, really got my
little cock going. By the time I was in high school, I had a full-on
attraction to my football jock buddies, especially when they were all
geared up and sweaty from a hard game.

More than the gear, though, is my strong attraction to jock
feet. Who can say what gives a man his fetish? All I know is that when I
was in the locker room looking at all those incredible teen feet, it took
every ounce of will power to not pop a woody. The combination of jocks in
their gear and bare feet drives me wild. I knew early on that I loved jocks
and their feet, either bare, in a nice pair of sweaty white socks, or
encased in a hot set of cleats. Of course, I also loved seeing all those
cocks and tight, muscled asses parading around the showers.

Like most teams, our guys were all shapes and sizes, and their cocks
were no exception, and I loved sneaking longing looks at them all. Sure, I
loved the game, but I played football so I could be around the players and
get my eyeful on the field and the locker room. However, I kept these
passions to myself all through high school. I might have snuck a sniff or
two in a buddy’s cleat when he wasn’t looking (ok, maybe three or four
sniffs), or snatch a warm, sweat-soaked sock from the locker room to jack
off with, but I kept it all to myself.

So, given my love for football and the studs who play the game, I
was devastated when a serious knee injury from a particularly rough tackle
put my playing days to an end in the middle of my sophomore year. My
parents were very sympathetic, especially my dad, and they knew I was
pissed to not be able to suit up and get back in the game. Really, though,
I was going to miss being around the jocks, especially in the locker
room. They were all my friends, and most of them were pretty great about
helping me carry stuff and getting around during my recovery from the
surgery. Still, the thought of not being around them in their gear, nor
seeing them walk around barefoot on the sidelines or the locker room really
got me down.

It was my coach, actually, who presented the idea to me. Knowing I
could not return to the field, but that I also really loved to be part of
the team (he didn’t know the real reason, obviously), he suggested I become
one of the team trainers. I would help out with the equipment and tend to
the minor medical needs of the team. It dawned on me that not only would I
still be around these hot athletes, but that I could actually get my hands
on them! I took to it right away, and even started studying anatomy so I
could have every excuse to get a handful of jock muscle in a way that
wouldn’t raise too much suspicion. By the time my junior year season
started, I was taking on my new role with total enthusiasm.

My favorite part, far and above, was taping up ankles and feet. Oh
how I loved getting up close to those jock dogs! I would pretend to be
detached, just another part of the team doing a job to get the boys ready
for the game, but I was in heaven being able to get so close to so many
incredible, strong football player feet. I would secretly study each curve,
each toe, each perfect sole. Sure, not all of them had great feet, but I
always found something to appreciate. If they got up on the table in full
gear with their bare feet splayed out for my taping, my cock would get
achingly hard in my shorts and I would have to find creative ways to cover
up my arousal. If anyone suspected my intense attraction to these boys and
their feet, no one said or did anything about it, and the remainder of my
high school football days were pure heaven for me.

It was natural, then, that as I began to explore my college options
I chose to study sports medicine. The thought of making a career out of
man-handling jocks was the perfect life for me! I thought it would be
tough to land a spot as a trainer for a college football team, but my coach
had a connection at a Big 10 university. It turned out his college roommate
was the Athletic Director and he gave me a glowing recommendation. I guess
my outlet for my passion for hot athletic men in uniform was perceived as a
passion for excellence, and I was immediately accepted on the football team
as one of their trainers.

Well, if I thought my high school jock buddies were hot, getting up
close and personal with these college footballers set my cock on automatic
drip! The team was big in every way, and these beefcakes were a footlover’s
dream! My first day at training camp in August was such a rush. I was
surrounded by studs with huge arms, huge pecs, huge cocks, and huge
feet. Things were crazy for the first couple of days as I got into the
routine, but soon I was deep into jock heaven. The first time I got to help
the guys stretch before practice, I thought I would go insane from having
all of those big, hot cleats in my hand. I loved helping them stretch their
quads because I got to hold their cleat and lean into them. If I thought
they weren’t looking, I would turn my head and get my nose close into the
opening of the cleat and get a nice, long whiff of jock foot. I was
flogging my cock every chance I got after being around all of that football
sweat all day…and this was just at camp! I knew I was going to love this
place…

Now these college guys were all pretty much studs; you didn’t get
to play for a school like this if you weren’t prime meat out of high
school. Even so, there was one guy who was always the star of my
after-practice jack-offs. His name, believe it or not, was Buck, and he was
straight out of Texas. Who names their kid Buck nowadays, anyway? I didn’t
give a shit what his name was because this guy was a giant slab of genuine
Texas football beef. He was one of the top linebackers in the Big 10, and
since he was a senior, there was no doubt he’d be a top pick in the NFL
draft next year. Everything about Buck was big, from this big, square jaw,
to his mountainous shoulders, to a chest that look like two whiskey
barrels, to thighs like tree trunks, down to his…oh, yes…his huge
feet. He was also covered in deep, dark hair all over, including each
glorious toe.

Like I said before, I loved taping up the players’ feet and ankles
in high school, and now these college studs took that task to a whole new
level of erotic joy for me. These were serious athletes, and, for the most
part, they all had feet I would drool over. From short, wide soles of
linemen to the long, narrow, perfectly shaped toes of the kicker (who was a
bit skinny for my tastes, but still a really handsome guy), I was engulfed
in a sea of jock feet and loving it. Still, even up though the first
scrimmage of the season, I had yet to get Buck up on my table. You see, I
was certainly not the only trainer on the team, and I always had some other
studs hoof in my hand whenever he was ready to be taped up.

And oh, how I wanted those huge pads of his in my palm. Buck was
devastatingly handsome, with deep blue eyes that glowed from under a heavy
ridged brow. Some might have found him too brutish, but he was such a
down-home nice guy. He has this permanent, lop-sided grin and friendly
roughhousing humor around the guys that seemed in stark contrast to his
hulking appearance. And then there were those huge feet of his. On his
six-foot-five frame, they were perfect, and he always seemed ready to shuck
his cleats the second he could. I couldn’t count how many times during camp
he’d be padding around barefoot in full gear as soon as practice was over.

Once he even walked right into me by accident. He was calling
something back to one of the coaches over his shoulder and didn’t see me
coming around the bench. I was trying to carry and armful of towels and
didn’t really see him, either. As he collided with me, my head was down
trying to gather a particularly stubborn towel and I got an eye full of
naked foot flesh. Needless to say he knocked me down flat (my 200 pounds
was no match for his nearly 300 of solid brick muscle), and I was
face-first on the ground next to those giant bare feet. I looked up his
mammoth form towering above me in full pads, so huge he blocked out the
sun, and saw that heart-stopping grin of his beaming down at me.

“Aw, sorry there, Alex,” he said as he reached down to help me up. “I
guess I should look the same way I walk.” His southern drawl was deep,
smooth, and sweet, like a belt of good whiskey.

“Hey, n-no sweat there, Buck,” I laughed nervously as my hand was
drowned by his meaty paw and I was lifted to my feet. It suddenly occurred
to me that he knew my name, even though we never so much as said two words
to each other since I got there. I knew I should have said something, but I
was too struck by my dream jock in full gear and bare feet that I just
stared into those deep blue eyes of his a bit too long.

There was an awkward few seconds as we just stood there, me too
love-struck and stupid to talk. Finally he laughed and slapped me playfully
on the back. “Looks like you got nothin’ out of place, buddy! See you
’round, kid,” and turned to head back into the locker room.

That’s when I noticed he’d dropped his cleats and forgot to grab
them. I quickly snatched them up and while I was gathering up the towels I
managed to get my nose deep into one. The smell was incredible; it was
musky and hot, making my head dizzy and my cock drool. I wanted to take
them back to my dorm room and shove my dick inside them, but I knew
couldn’t get away with it. Instead I took them back into the locker room.

Buck had just shucked his football pants and was standing there in
just his shoulder pads and jock. The pouch was worn and sweaty, straining
to contain the uncut monster inside. I had seen his cock quite a few times
around the locker room, and just thinking about the delicious meat and huge
balls under that thin stretch of fabric was almost too much for me.

“You, uh…You dropped these,” I said as I held out the enormous
cleats to him.

“Oh hey yeah…thanks, Alex,” he replied as he took them from my
hand. “S’pose I need these. Guess I can’t run around in the scrimmage
tomorrow in my bare feet!” He chuckled, set them down in his locker, and
began to strip off his jersey.

I would have paid a million dollars to see him play the scrimmage
barefoot, but I didn’t tell him that. Instead I went back out to gather up
the rest of the towels and remembered the smell of those hot cleats. I blew
a huge load that night thinking of that encounter. I didn’t know then that
was just a teaser…

The next day was the second scrimmage of the season, and for some
reason Buck was nowhere to be seen. I was busy doing my job of taping hot
jock feet and helping hunks stretch their bulging muscles. None of the
coaches seemed terribly concerned, so I thought nothing of it. Finally, as
the team was running warm-ups on the field, one of the coaches called over
to me that Buck was suiting up and to get over and get him taped up for the
game. Finally I had a chance to get up close to those feet! I trotted back
to the locker room area and got ready for my Texas stud of a linebacker.

I nearly lost my mind when I saw him standing in the doorway of the
training area. He was in full pads and those giant bare feet were in a pair
of Nike sport sandals. He was a football jock dream god and I was about to
get those feet right in my face.

“Alright, let’s get me taped up, Alex,” he said as he kicked his
sandals away and hopped up on the table.

As I pretended to look for tape in the drawer under the table, I took
as second to drink in the site before me. His feet were absolutely giant
and completely perfect. They were meaty and muscled, yet graceful, with
just the right arch. The soles were spotless and smooth, with softly padded
balls and gently curving heels. Man…that one guy…what was his name?
That sculptor guy…Michelangelo…Yeah, Michelangelo himself could not
have created a more perfect pair of feet. I looked up past those huge
perfect feet to survey the Texan who was casually leaning against the
wall. His pads made him look like a giant, and that rough, handsome face
with a hint of a beard capped by a dark brown buzz-cut was fuckin’
incredible. I felt my hands start to shake and I was starting to sweat as I
grabbed up the tape and fumbled to unravel it.

“You sure get a lotta feet in yer face, dontcha?” he asked as he
looked down at me.

“Huh? Oh yeah…yeah, I guess I do,” I answered as casually as I
could. And I love every minute of it!

“I got the biggest on the team. Yessiree…” He wiggled his perfect
toes in emphasis. “The biggest. Size 15′s. But I keep mine nice ‘n’
pretty…keep ‘em clean and neat. Don’t ya think?” His blue eyes were
intense as they locked with mine, burning right into me. I couldn’t look
away.

“Y-yeah…sure,” I stammered. I was hypnotized by him as we sat there
alone in the locker room. I don’t know what possessed me to say it, but
before I knew what I was doing I said “They’re…beautiful.”

My stomach was in knots as I realized I had said it out loud. We were
alone, with no witnesses. He could smash me right there and no one would
ever know what happened.

He smiled that cocky grin of his, then his expression became
serious. “Show me,” he said.
“What?” I breathed, wide-eyed at this stud of a lineman who I thought
was about to kill me.

“Show me how beautiful you think they are,” he whispered. “Go
on…it’s OK, Alex. I know…I know what you want, buddy. Really…there’s
no one here but us…Show me how beautiful they are.” His voice was quiet
and low, but pleading. I knew then that he was serious. He wanted this,
and I wasn’t about to waste any time.

My hands were shaking like mad as I reached up and wrapped them
around those hot soles. The second I touched them he let out a deep
sigh. They were so warm and soft, yet solid as a rock. I could feel the
thick veins under my fingertips. I tentatively squeezed them then ran my
hands flat against the thick, velvety soles. I was finally able to touch
these magnificent feet like I had fantasized so many times. He let out
another deep sigh as I ran my fingers over each toe, feeling the firmness
of each perfectly-trimmed nail.

“Yeah, baby…that’s so good…,” he purred. “Now let me feel your
tongue on them. Please, Alex…go on and taste ‘em baby…” His eyes were
full of pleading, and I understood that he shared my fetish. He needed me
to worship his feet.

There were a million places I wanted to start with my tongue, but I
decided to start on one heel and lick slowly up to the toes. The taste was
indescribable as I covered every inch of his sole, licking timidly at first
until I saw his reaction. The aroma and taste were salty and musky, the
ideal mixture of a sweating jock.

“Oh fuck…that is fuckin’ incredible, man…,” he moaned and threw
his head back against the wall. “Yeah lick those fuckin’ feet, dude.”

He didn’t need to tell me twice. I grew bolder as I started
slobbering all around his massive sole, then I switched to the other
one. He was pushing back against my mouth as I bit down lightly along the
instep. I looked up and saw his jaw slack…he was practically panting. I
was in total ecstasy myself as I savored the taste of this jock’s foot. I
worked back up to his toes and took his big toe in my mouth. I sucked it
like a little cock, swirling my tongue all around it.

“Oh…oh Alex, man…Seeing your handsome as fuck face with my foot
in your mouth…damn…I have dreamed of this since I first saw you,
dude…so fucking hot!” he moaned as he started to rub his
substantially-growing bulge through his lycra pants.

As I sucked my way down each of his right toes, I looked up and saw
his thick jock snake press up against his left thigh. I knew he didn’t wear
a cup, but I was still amazed to see how much that fuckin’ cock bulged in
his uniform. He ran is brawny palm over it, squeezing the head as I ran my
tongue between his toes and over the ball of his thick foot. My own cock
was iron and leaking like a faucet in my shorts. I grabbed his other foot
and brought it close so I could take both big toes in my mouth at once. It
had the desired affect; Buck groaned and started to unbuckle his uniform
pants.

As I pressed both huge soles against my face danced my tongue over
both of them, I heard the rustle of fabric as he unlaced and hauled out his
fat jock hog. My eyes grew wide as I witnessed his 9-inch monster with its
angry, red head jutting out from its foreskin. His saliva- covered feet
were warm and wet against my face as I breathed in the aroma of feet and
cock that filled my nose. I took his cue and freed my own respectable
8-incher through the leg of my shorts.

He began to stroke his dick as I continued to worship his feet. The
site of this suited-up linebacker whackin’ his cock as I tongue-bathed his
dogs was right out of my fantasies. Looking back, I was thankful everyone
else was out on the football field. We were both so lost in our world
together…jock and worshiper…that nothing else mattered.

He was wiggling his feet, writhing against my face as I frantically
tried to fit as much as I could in my mouth. I wanted to devour those
magnificent feet as he jacked off above me. His breathing became rapid as
he started to murmur incoherent encouragements to me. My brain was
short-circuiting as I became a foot-worshiping machine, sucking in the toes
and the heals of my Texas corn-fed linebacker. Through the haze of my bliss
I became aware of his impending orgasm. His toes began to curl under my
tongue and he started to grind his hips, thrusting his dripping jock cock
through his hairy fist. I had a sudden urge to swallow something other than
his feet.

In one swift move I jumped up between his legs and swallowed the head
of his cock, putting my own prick between his spit-slicked soles. He
grabbed my head between his paws and my dick between his feet.

“Swallow that fuckin’ jock dick, baby. Yeah…I got yer hot cock in
my feet, man…fuck my feet as you suck me off, buddy…”

Now, I had never so much as touched another dick, let alone sucked
one, but I’ve seen a fair amount of porn (don’t ask how…that’s another
story), so I had some idea. I worked my tongue under his foreskin, licking
around the head and shaft. This seemed to be right, since he thrust deeper
into my throat and squeezed my cock between his feet. I took a deep breath
and took the whole fat shaft. I could feel the arrowhead of the tip against
the back of my throat and I swallowed until I was face first into his
substantial bush. He began to piston in and out of my maw as I matched his
rhythm thrusting my cock between his huge soles.

We continued this suck-and-foot-fuck for about a minute longer before
I felt his shaft swell and his cum tube start to shake. He grabbed the back
of my head and fought to contain a scream as his jock sauce shot down my
throat. That triggered my own load and I began to convulse as I shot a
thick stream of semen on the table between his legs. As he pumped his seed
into me, I fought to back his cock out so I could taste his cum. It was
just like him…thick, strong, and sweet. Through my orgasmic haze I
savored the taste of him in my mouth and breathed in the heavy scent of his
jock-sweat crotch. I suckled on his deflating cock a second or two more,
then finally broke away. My own dick dribbled the last bits of cum over the
tops of Buck’s feet, settling on the thick strands of hair that covered
them.

A sense of dread washed over me. It was one thing to seduce a horny
jock, but when the cum was over, I have heard a lot of stories about jocks
to suddenly get straight guilt once they blew their wad. I was staring down
at his heaving, shimmering, fur-covered six pack. I felt his hand grab my
chin and gently force me to look him in his rugged mug. I was waiting for
that look…that “oh-shit-I-just-did-gay-shit” look, but instead his
expression was soft, his eyes warm and content. I almost shit bricks when
he brought his lips to mine and thrust his tongue into my mouth. The kiss
was intense, strong, and passionate. This linebacker wasn’t feeling
guilty. He was all about it. I relaxed and wrapped an arm behind his
shave-stubble head as we made out. When we finally broke the kiss, he shot
me that big Texas shit-eating grin.

“That was the best thing ever, baby,” he purred. “I was hopin’ we’d
do that some day, but I didn’t know if you’d be into a big ol’ dumb jock
like me.”

“Buck,” I laughed, “I wouldn’t have anyone else, ya big stud.”

His smile became uncharacteristically shy and he rested his forehead
against mine, both of us panting with spent lust. “Well, I suppose I have a
game to play…out there, I mean,” he said, nodding his head back to the
football field.

I suddenly remembered where we were. The whole encounter was less
than five or ten minutes, but kickoff was only a few more minutes away. I
grabbed a towel and wiped up my load from the table, then gave into my urge
and licked the remainder of my load from the tops of his feet. I snatched
up the tape and did a record-fast job on his ankles. He quickly laced up
his cleats. Before trotting out to the sidelines, he looked back at me.

“Alex…next time it’s my turn on you, buddy,” he winked, popped on
his helmet, and jogged out to the field.

Next time…sweet. This was going to be an awesome season.