Anonymous
Ten years back while at university, I used my supposed inherited powers as an “adept” capable of reading a guy’s destiny by minutely examining and “reading” his bare soles to get my hands on several hot guys’ feet. Owing to credulity, vanity, and intense curiosity about the future, there were some guys, particularly jocks, who could not resist getting the soles of their feet “read.”
The readings were always conducted in utmost privacy of course, and I always explained that I had to conduct the reading while his eyes were closed in order for the best reading to be done. And then, supposedly part of the process, I would trace the creases on his soles with my forefinger, driving the ticklish ones nuts. Also, I always told my “subject” that the psychic eminations from his feet were strongest at the end of the day, after he’d been on his feet all day. I happen to really dig the ripe, natural smell of a guy’s sweaty feet, and at day’s end, his feet were at their ripest.
I maintained an outwardly calm, serious attitude and demeanor while reading a guy’s feet, and for me anyway it sometimes proved surprising just how far a guy would let me go. A really hot rugby player on the university team was one of the most enjoyable subjects for me. He was a real stud of a guy, tall, muscular, hairy, with hunky size 11 feet that turned out to be quite ticklish. He immediately began laughing and jerked his feet out of my lap, but he was so self-centered and yet so curious about learning what his destiny would be, that he apparently believed me when I calmly explained to him that his ticklishness was due to a combination of his secret fear of the future (that “insulted” his macho vanity) and his perverse resistance to gaining psychic self-knowledge. He insisted he wasn’t afraid of anything, and said if I’d be patient with him, he would work to get his ticklishness under control so I could read his destiny through his feet.
So this rugged, macho, 21-year old junior rugby ace suggested dropping by my room in the late afternoon after rugby practice when, as he supposed, his psychic emanations were at their strongest, so I could gradually help him get through his ticklishness and conduct a “read reading” of his soles. I solemnly told him his idea was very sound, but that he’d have to be sure not to shower before he got to my room–or he would “wash away” his psychic sensitivity. The guy agreed, and a couple days later by prearrangement, he showed up at my room, still sweaty from practice.
I had him lie on the floor, took his feet into my lap, and removed his shoes and socks. His feet were really ripe (which I really dug), and I commenced to deliberately and gently tickle his feet. He squirmed, giggled, and twitched, but he managed to keep his feet in my lap. Despite this “interference,” I managed (hah!) to do at least a partial reading–telling him just enough to tickle his vanity and intrigue the hell out of him.
“D” returned twice more to get his reading completed, and I was able to explore every inch of his sensitive feet. He was so gratified and impressed by the positive predictions of the reading, at the end of the last session he asked me if I might be willing to read his best bud’s feet for him as well. Ever willing to serve, I humbly accepted. His bud, a gorgeous hunk named Ian, called me the next day to set it up, and a few days later he came to see me after their afternoon rugby practice.
Thanks to “D,” he was so confident about the value of the reading, that he unhesitatingly put his gorgeous 10.5’s into my lap and closed his eyes. I commented that I hoped he wasn’t as ticklish as “D” was, and he said he was quite ticklish but that he would work through it so I could read his feet. Ian was extremely ticklish but very determined to get his reading, and it took me four separate sessions to complete his sole reading (heh-heh)!
His soft, wide, sweaty masculine feet were just gorgeous–and sooooo ticklish, and it took all my own powers of concentration to maintain my “reading” posture. He’d start laughing softly, and as my forefingers traced the creases on his feet, his laughter gradually grew louder and his legs trembled. But he managed to keep his feet relatively still for me.
During our third session, Ian told me “You may not believe this, but all the foot tickling is giving me a hard-on,” and he apologized. I explained smoothly to him that was quite a common reaction and not to worry about it. That remark seemed to relax his anxiety, and we continued the reading. I could tell from his responses that tickling his arches and his toes seemed to produce the most marked sexual response from him, and I deliberately concentrated on those areas just to see what might happen.
What happened a few minutes later was Ian stopped laughing and suddenly groaned “Oh, shit, man! I’m gonna cum!”–and he did (leaving a telltale damp spot on my rug afterwards). Before he could get all embarrassed or anything, I praised him greatly, telling him that his orgasm had released enormous psychic energy, enabling me to get a big glimpse at his future for the next ten years. He wanted details, and I rambled on for several minutes, telling him all the wonderful things I “saw” that were in store for him, personally and professionally. Then he surprised me by asking if “D” had had an orgasm during his reading, and I told him that, no, his buddy had not had one. As he put his socks and shoes back on, Ian said he’d ask that I didn’t mention that he had cum to “D”–and I hastened to assure him that all readings were absolutely confidential. That seemed to satisfy him, and he left, coming back one more time to finish his reading.
So, you see, the sole reading was bogus certainly, but I was able to use it to access some hot ticklish feet.