Mom’s Precious Shoe Pt. 01

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Ever since I was little, I always hated when my mother, Carolyn, would drag me with her to the mall. Images from my youth of days wasted sitting on uncomprising benches while mother would spend the greater half of the day visiting stores, buying purses, trying on dresses, and of course, having herself fitted for shoes. I never cared about the trips to the shoe department when I was younger, as my only objective was to distract myself until the ordeal was over. But as I got older, things started to shift in my perspective.

As a horny teenager, I was always desperate for any pornographic materials I could get my hands on. As a techie teenager, I was also aware that visiting porn sites was an open invitation to endless malware. So, I got by with the softcore videos uploaded to the popular video streaming sites. It was here where I found endless videos of people worshipping feet…which strangely enough was a compelling turn on. As I got older, I found myself actually preferring the foot worship videos to traditional porn videos.

I never told my girlfriends about my kink, as I never saw it being worth potentially having them look at me as less of a man. I was perfectly content to have the typical boyfriend/girlfriend relationship and relatively vanilla sex.

Once college had ended and I was introduced to the real world, my latest girlfriend and I broke up. I had been seeing her for 2 years, and after developing new social circles as a result of work, we started to drift apart and decided it would be best to go our own ways. While it was a quasi-mutual breakup, I was still pretty down about it, and would spend time chatting with my mother to help me feel better.

“You know Michael, I never particularly cared about Hailey anyway. She always seemed to be keeping one eye open for someone else who was making more money,” my mother said as she walked about the kitchen preparing dinner. “You’re better off without her, bakırköy üniversiteli escort anyway, you can spend more time with me.”

“What are you trying to say about my paycheck mom,” I said in a fake angry tone, “I make plenty enough to give you my share of the rent.”

“Which is discounted heavily because you’re my booboo bear.”

“Yea yea mom, anyway, I’ll be back downstairs when dinner is ready.”

I went upstairs, and before I went into my room, I glanced into my mother’s bedroom and noticed the black heels that she had worn to work were sitting by her bed. I never associated my mother with my foot fetish before, but being newly single, I was refreshing my old habit of looking up foot worship videos, and I had feet on the mind. For a brief second, I wondered what it would be like to take a quick whiff of her shoe, and, disgusted with myself thinking such a thought, shook my head and entered my bedroom.

After a half hour of searching the web for “material” my mother called out:

“Miiiikeeeeey, food’s ready!!”

I was a little annoyed because I hadn’t found the right video yet (everyone knows what the struggle finding the right video can be).

“Okay mom be down in a sec!”

I decided to give up the hunt and finish what I got started after dinner.

I sat across from mother at the dinner table. We talked a little about my breakup and our plans for that weekend.

“On Saturday I’m going to go running around the lake in the morning and then hang out with a girlfriend in the evening,” mother said.

My mother had picked up running after her divorce from my father three years ago. During the later years of her marriage, she had put on an extra 10-15lbs, but after the divorce, she recommitted herself to keeping her mind and body right, and had taken up running and pilates. Objectively speaking, bakırköy bdsm escort my mother had a respectable chest – C cups, and a fairly firm bum for her age due to the pilates. While she was 42, she could easily pass as a women in her early to mid 30s. During the past few years, I’d notice guys coming in and out the house every now and again, but none of them ever seemed to come back with any regularity. I found it awkward to get deep into my mother’s dating life, so I hardly asked her questions about it.

“You don’t typically go out on Saturday nights, where you headed to?”

“We’re going to go out to some snobby club – Look! We got pedicures the other day,” my mother said as she brought her leg up and extended it along the side of the dinner table.

Now, my friends would tell you my mother is a fairly attractive woman. I never paid much attention to it, but because I had just edged myself earlier watching foot worship videos, I found myself looking at my mother, and in particular, her foot in a different, more longing way.

“Wow mom, the red nail polish really makes your toes pop,” the aftermath of those words leaving my mouth left a bitter taste. Why did I make that comment?

“Oh my, honey, you really think so?” My mother flexed her toes so I could get a better view.

“Yea, for sure mom, it looks really good on you,” I said, removing a little of the excess excitement in my voice from earlier.

All the toe wiggling my mother was doing caused the sandal on her foot to fall off.

“Oops, can you be a dear and get that for your mother.”

“Sure mom,” I got on my knees to pick up the sandal, and noted that my mother’s leg was still extended.

“You can get a better view of the pedicure down there sweety, look at the how the red nail polish shimmers in the light, the nail technician did an excellent job!”

I felt a bulge starting bakırköy elit escort to form in my pants.

“Shit, am I really getting a hard on to my mother’s feet?” I thought to myself.

“Yep, it’s great,” I said, staring at her little toes wiggling around two feet from my face. I breathed in deep, trying to pick up on the scent of her feet. I noticed the faint smell of strawberries, which I attributed to her foot cream.

“Well, since you’re just kneeling down there, you may as well put my sandal on for me.”

It was now I realized how warm my mother’s sandal was. It had me thinking back to the black heels I saw sitting in front of her bed earlier. It was driving me crazy thinking what it be like to take in my mother’s scent. I pressed my fingers deep into the sole of her sandal to gather any remnants of her foot residue, and then gently placed the sandal back on my mother’s foot.

“Your wish is my command,” I said, trying to play off the past few seconds of weirdness going on inside of my head.

“Thank you, you are now dismissed,” she said, recoiling her leg away from me.

I sat back down in my seat, and wanted so badly to sniff my fingers to get a second hand account of what my mother’s feet would smell like. After a few seconds, I pretended I had an itchy nose, and raised the fingers that had been pressed firmly into my mother’s sole up to my nostrils and breathed in deeply.


I smelled the faint scent of strawberries, but also, the faint traces of a more vinegary, heady aroma. The bulge in my pants became even more pronounced, and I was concerned with how I would leave dinner without my mother noticing the situation I had.

“So I was thinking, since you’re now single and don’t have any plans yet for Saturday, why don’t you accompany your old mother to the mall so she can buy some clothes for Saturday night?!”

Normally, I would reject this invitation without hesitation. But, still thinking about feet, I absent mindedly agreed to the trip.

“Sure mom, I’ll accompany you to the mall.”

“Really?! Great! I always thought you hated going with me to the mall.”

“Well, like you said, I’m not doing anything better, so I may as well go with you.”

This trip to the mall would truly be a game changer.

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