I had a kink “a-ha!” moment the other day. It was fascinating and exciting and I can’t stop thinking about it. Allow me to paint you a picture. I was seated on the sofa in my livingroom, and Loverboy was on all fours, ecstatic to be gagging on the front half of my right foot, and I suddenly thought to myself, “I’m living my best kink life. I am exactly where I am supposed to be.” It was a revelation. It was also my first full-on foot fetish experience, something that I never expected I would enjoy.
I’m not one to kink shame. I think as long as what you’re into isn’t hurting or exploiting anyone or any thing and everyone involved is a consenting adult, knock yourself out. Yet foot fetishism, one of the most common fetishes around, has always made me a bit uncomfortable. I think part of what can make some fetishes hard to get your head around is that we can’t always logically or intellectually understand the motivation. It’s really something you either feel, or you don’t. But you won’t know unless you try it. My whole adult life my response to foot play was “I don’t get it.” and I still don’t but I now know that I’m kind of into it.
Loverboy is into feet. My other two partners are distinctly not. In fact, I haven’t been with many people who had a thing for feet, and I have always made it a soft limit so it’s not something I have experience with. When it originally came up in discussion, Loverboy asked if that was something I’d be into. And to my surprise, I said maybe. As we talked more, the maybe became a yes, with the caveat that he would take the lead because I didn’t even know what to tell him to do, what to ask him to show me. He agreed, his sweet-sly smile betraying his glee.
That day he worshipped my feet. He kissed them and softly licked every inch of them. He sucked every toe and didn’t make me cringe or tickle once. He pushed his muscular tongue between my toes and he gently gnawed at my heals and the balls of my feet. He gagged on my foot and I felt his throat clench my toes. And all the while I watched him, and I don’t mind admitting: I felt powerful.
Watching him become so aroused and immersed in the experience was hypnotic. He was hyper focused, completely present and looked so serene and happy. He was confident with his movements and everything flowed and made sense in the moment, like an incredibly gentle massage, but with his mouth. He was reverent and filled with humility but in no way grovelling and it was exceptional to feel that level of focus. But did it turn me on?
I’ll say this: it didn’t turn me off. I think the pleasure I experienced was less about my feet and his mouth and more about the fact that he was on the floor worshipping my feet for no reason other than that he wanted to enjoy them and express his devotion. I asked him after “Why feet?” and his answer was “You mean, why your feet? Because they’re yours.” I was turned on by his adoration. I was turned on by the sense of power and control it gave me. I don’t see my feet differently now, but the whole experience made me see the D/s aspects of our relationship differently. It was an intense and clear confirmation of our roles and how much we both enjoy them and a lovely moment of mutual acceptance. He accepts that this wasn’t a kink of mine, per se, but that I love and respect him, and therefore recognize his desires and I now have a newfound sense of his relationship to kink and submission. It was intimate and meaningful and it started good conversations that fostered understanding between us. Not at all bad for a first time and it certainly won’t be the last.
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image credit: Pixabay