"The Long Afternoon Nap" -This one is especially for Foot Fans who appreciate sox and bare feet most when they're fresh out of the boot!

Members- The action in the story below is summarized in 2 Video Clips. Click the Boot Buttons for access. CLIP 1: While Cage sleeps, his boots pulled off, socks sniffed, toes bared. ( OK. not too romantic, but very aromatic.) CLIP 2: One hot minute of slurping & toe tonguing.

"Hey! Who took my boots off?"

You must have takin' 'em off yourself before you took that little nap," I lied. Then I added, "We both had too much of that premium dark brew. I really wasn't paying much attention to what you were doin'." A big fat lie!

In fact, I'd been paying very close attention to this young blond in his high brown riding boots . I had been monitoring his condition patiently as he was knocking back beer after beer. I noted when his cool blue eyes lost their ability to focus on me. I noted when his words had begun to slur together. I felt sort of like one of those sport fishermen waiting for a big game fish to tire so it could be reeled in. I had watched until, finally, the young man's body and brain yielded to the force of gravity. His grip on a half empty bottle of beer relaxed as he flopped backwards onto the warm grass. He smiled contentedly trying, with no success, to focus his gaze on me.Then the little smile faded, his mouth opened slightly, his eyelids closed, and Cage was finally out cold. Shortly after that, I had both his boots off, and his socks in my mouth.

But let me confess my little "crime or passion" right from the beginning.

I had hired Will Cage, an accomplished rider in his mid twenties with an excellent reputation as a trainer, to exercise my horses. Cage always showed up for work in the same beat up pair of vintage riding breeches, the kind with laces rinning up the breeches' legs as they emerge from the rider's boot tops. In Cage's case, that meant a scuffed up pair of tall brown riding boots. Watching him riding in them drove me up the wall. See, I wanted in the worst way to proposition this young man. We're not talkin' blow jobs or fucking. I had something much more….ah…sophisticated in mind. I get off on the pungent smell young active men bring to boot leather. That is, I thought I would. I'd never actually had the chance to check out a rider's boots or sniff his socks immediately after he's pulled them off. I wanted to ask Cage to let me do just that. I just couldn't figure a way to phrase my proposition so it wouldn't weird the kid out.

"Hey Cage, would ya mind stopping by my office after work today? I'd really like to pull off your boots after you've been riding hard, sweatin' in 'em all day. I want to sniff your boots good before they can air out. Don't take your socks off, no matter how sweated up or dirty they are. I'll want to bury my face in those socks while they're still on your feet. After I've sorta sucked and chewed on your socks for a while , I'll slowly peel 'em off you until I'm holding both of your bare feet in my hands. Then, you know what? I'm gonna run the tip of my tongue over your toenails and probe it in between each or your toes. I'll want to manipulate your toes around with my tongue, so please relax and don't resist Then I'll lick the soles of each of your feet cleaner than they've ever been. Are you ticklish? I hope so! Finally, only if you're comfortable with it, I 'll probably want to jerk off into your dirtiest looking boot sock. OK. Buddy?

Yeah. Sure. Fat chance.

One day I did actually mention to Cage that if he ever needed help getting his boots off, he could call on me, but he passed off the offer with a laugh, saying "I wouldn't ask anybody to do that. By the end of the day, I think my feet get kinda stinky, sir." I wanted to tell this kid that would be just fine, but I bit my tongue.

Then, late one morning, Cage rang me on his cell phone pretty upset to have to report the gelding he'd had out for a long trail ride had gone lame. He apologized profusely for bothering me but said maybe I better ride out and have a look. Might want to call the vet. That's when I hatched this crazy plot to maybe, possibly, turn my growing fixation on savoring the scent of this young man's boots, socks, and feet into reality.

Cage had got himself marooned in a a fairly isolated area and the vet told me he couldn't make it out there until very late afternoon. I could have ridden out to meet Cage on horse back myself, but instead I decided to take my Super Stud SUV. It was a top of the line high luxury model and featured among other amenities, a fully stocked bar.

I figured, since I'd be stuck in the back woods with Cage for quite a wait, and since he'd be riding back with me in the SUV, it wouldn't hurt to offer the young man total access to my over stocked mini pub and see where that might lead. Who knows, if the kid liked my expensive booze enough (i.e. drank enough of it) maybe , just maybe, I could manage to talk him into letting me yank his boots off without protest and maybe even bury my face in his warm socks. Before I reined my imagination in for a reality check, I even worked up a woodie wondering if I could jam all ten of the kid's toes into my mouth at once.

It took me almost 45-minutes to reach Cage and his lame mount. The poor kid was afraid I might blame him for the animal's condition. I assured him his job was safe, saying it coulda happened to anybody. This brought a broad grin of relief across his face, and to show there were no hard feelings, I asked him if he'd maybe like to have a drink with me while we waited for the vet. ."Yeah, I could use one, he said, "Ya got a flask handy?." I motioned for him to take a peek inside my vehicle, and swung open the door to the mobile tavern it contained. "WHOA ! Check it OUT!" was all Cage said.

Much to my delight, without hesitation, he reached for a beer. . and then another…and another. Turns out, Cage had quite a taste for a certain pricey, imported dark brew , and I just happened to have a few dozen bottles chilled.

As the warm afternoon wore on, and the empties piled up-( three of his for every one of mine,) we got to toasting each other, our favorite horses, his favorite women and we both felt free to take long leaks against the tires on the Super Stud SUV without any need for privacy. So it went until young Cage's brain and body finally had to give in to gravity. He just leaned back on the grass, spread wide his legs, dug the heels of those beat up brown riding boots into the turf, and passed out stone cold.

I figured from his rhythmic breathing that he had fallen into a deep sleep, but I had to test him to be sure. I kicked at his feet a couple of times. No response. I stood over him with my foot on his chest and nudged him a few times . Nada. So I knelt down between his legs, took a deep breath, and got a good firm grip on the kid's right boot.

I rotated his foot back and forth and shook it a few times thinking, "Hope this doesn't wake him up." Then suddenly his boot just slide off him , and I found myself staring straight down at the gold toe of a dingy white athletic sock. I had caught Cage's foot by the heel as his boot slid off. . In my fantasy, I had imagined savoring the scent of Cages socks and feet fresh out of his boots. I didn't know exactly how it would be, but I figured such a handsome lad's feet would just have to smell like something I liked, like nice warm new leather. Now I'd know for real. I could feel his toes, nestled under those gold threads. I spread his toes apart as much as space would allow, and pressed them to my face. I took a deep breath. WHOA!

What was this kid's warning to me, " I think by the end of the day in these boots , my feet get kinda stinky, sir." Well, my first sample sniff right through those gold toe threads sorta knocked me back. I was over powered for just a second by a strong scent more like a boys' school locker room than the boot leathery smell I had always fantasized about when I had looked down at Cage's booted feet. It wasn't sure whether I liked reality. I gently lowered Cage's socked foot, letting it come to rest so I could just feel the kid's toes resting lightly against my balls.

I lifted Cage's other boot by its heel and within a second, out flopped his left foot in its matching dingy gold toe sock.

I placed both of Cage''s feet side by side between my own legs. I massaged them gently. I thought to myself, "God! My cock hasn't been this hard since I was a teenager!" It took all of five seconds, but I finally convinced myself that the strong aroma now drifting up from Cage's feet could be positively….ah…. therapeutic! I took a moment to savor the atmosphere and to admire the kid's socked feet lying limp in my lap. I gently caressed them. Then I striped them .

While Cage's boots and socks hadn't smelled quite as I had fantasized, the bare feet I now held in my hot little hands were every bit as perfect as the rest of him, just as I'd imagined. I remember how the tips of his toes lined up in neat, easily lickable- suckable arcs.

I lost it! What followed was a wild orgy of foot service by me. I got to know every crevasse, every crease, each of the kid's toes, each of his mostly well trimmed toenails intimately. I had my way with Cage's feet in ways I couldn't have imagined. When I finally convinced myself that it wouldn't do to have this kid waking up to find his boss sucking simultaneously on both of his big toes. I laid his feet gently back down on my lap and reached for his socks. As I was holding those socks above his bare feet, I almost yielded to the temptation to stick my throbbing cock into one of them and blow my load. Since I absolutely, positively had to blow, in desperation, I did the next best thing. I gathered the kid's bare feet in my hands and held them close together so that I could feel the tips of his toes lightly brushing across that sweet spot just under the head my rigid cock. After about two hot seconds of that action, I totally exploded.The first contraction seemed to come from so far down in my groin that it hurt like hell! I dropped Cages feet and tried to "pull out". The earth was not merely moving, it was disintegrating!

The first thing I remember when time stopped standing still was a sneaky feeling of pride at the sight of a few milky white drops oozing down from between Cage's toes.Then a mild panic when I realized this kid could be waking up at any second. Clean up time! I was still holding on to Cage's socks and without thinking I spread his toes apart and started using his socks to soak up the evidence.Then in close to full blown panic, I managed to get the socks pulled back on his feet. I even tried stuffing his feet back into his boots, but it was like trying to dress a rag doll. No way! I stood up looking down at him, watching for signs of life, wondering what he would notice, what I would have to try to explain away.In about 5 minutes, I got my answer.

Cage stretched and yawned. He actually looked refreshed. Weird, considering he'd spent the last two hours sleeping off an afternoon drunk. He sat up and seemed to stare for a long moment at his empty boots. It was as if he was trying to get them into focus..or get something into focus. Then through a half smile, he asked,

"Hey! Who the hell took my boots off?………And how the hell did my socks get turned inside out?"