Ill-informed Opinions from a Suburban Refugee & Pop Cultural Misfit

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Foot Job? Rubbing Paws for Pubis & Bob Sagets' Amusement

Reason #79 for why I need an editor

The foot and ankle contain:
26 bones
33 joints
more than 100 muscles, tendons (fibrous tissues that connect muscles to bones) and ligaments (fibrous tissues connecting bones to other bones)
A vast network of blood vessels, nerves, skin and soft tissue
1 confused Cannibal

As mentioned in the comments section a few days back, I was propositioned by a potential gal pal for a foot massage because the towering heels she wore that day made her feet hurt. Well, fashion over function argument aside, I began to think that foot massages are way too serious a step in the relationship direction for this people eating person at this time so I waffled a bit, found it odd that I’d roll about in the sack with her but considered a tootsie touch to be almost like wearing white after Labor Day or lawn bowling with a Lepers’ skull. She said a few weeks back that the moment she knew she was comfortable enough with moi to allow safe passage through her panty portal was when we were sitting on the couch at her place and I played with her toe ring for a whopping 8 seconds (toe rodeo?). I was forced to examine my history of foot fondling and my place within its weird world.
Foot & Mouth Disease?

Some people are very strange about their feet and yet to others they’re practically an erogenous zone all on their own with each toe being a receptive (read clitoral) creature begging for attention. That said, when I was a teenager I was digging on a girl pretty bad (the girl next door in fact) and when I finally got her over to my parents basement I was trying my best to be the lay of her young life, write my own ticket to the Penthouse Forum hall of fame, cash in my cannibal chips and etch another portrait for my portfolio of perversion. I drew tongue glyphs detailing my sordid wants on her inner thigh like sexual scripture, kissed her well defined calves and then something strange happened; I ended up with her foot in my mouth. Now, as odd as that sounds, as soon as I rolled my tongue around her baby toe she lost her fucking mind. I stopped for a second and panned my eyes up her body to see her writhing about like a wounded ant under a midday magnifying glass. “What fresh hell is this?” I thought (or perhaps it was just simply “holy fawk!” at the time), was she getting off on this? No time for questions young grasshopper, just eat toe until your jaw locks up.” Other foot, other foot”, I thought. Grabbed her leg and licked the entire bottom of it. Hello heel, arch and Hallux. What’s this? Got something in my mouth, lint! Can’t stop now I got her right where I want her. Take one for the team, consume lint. I’m a cannibal in training dammit! I ingest her ill begotten fluff.

She continued to flip her lid and I figured that if I can’t mail this letter without licking the stamp I might as well spend the day down here until she grabbed my head, said that she’d had enough and asked me what I thought I was doing. I said “aren’t you having a good time, baby?” To which she replied “what’s with you and my feet?” My young brain began to swim, not enough life boats. “What?”

She was one of them. Hated to have her paws pawed, she was writhing out of anxiety or quite possibly embarrassment on my account and not from the erogenous tug of your clueless host (yes Pig, I said “tug” get over it). I had her foot in my mouth people! Had Bob Saget been presented with a video copy, I’d have surely won the grand prize that year.
---
In fairness, I have rubbed the odd foot since then, but more out of courtesy or relationship reasoning, up until this last week of course, found myself at the Body Shop on Thursday buying peppermint cooling foot lotion for what equates to a kings’ ransom to dutifully fulfill said request.

She was on her way over to watch the latest and greatest addition to the horror movie collection, play bed bunny to my cannibal carrot and I hadn’t yet told her that oft requested foot massage was also in the meaty mix. After her arrival we talked a little about the topic du jour – “hand jobs” and she said she can’t remember ever giving one, she just “goes to town on it”. Can’t be all bad I think (which town does she go to so I can stop by?), so after a pint I said that I had something for her and passed her the bottle of million dollar foot sauce. Her face lit up like a drunk after a long luxurious piss in a dark alley.

I warmed the lotion between my palms and liberally applied it to her right foot, adding pressure with my thumbs, kneading with my palms and using my bass guitar playing fingers to spread out her lithe little toes - she began to moan a little, best proceed carefully I thought, Bob Saget might be watching. Her big blue eyes shut slowly and her hair washed over the side of the couch as her head rolled back. A sensuous smirk spread across her face like a splash of color on a white cotton sheet and then she began to squirm. My girl next door experience came back to me like a bad burrito, a pin prick in the dark, but it wasn’t like I was going to stick her foot in my mouth, not with all that peppermint lotion on it! Surely I’m doing every right, right?

No doubt about it, I hit a spot on her left foot a few minutes later that made her grab the remote, shut the movie off and drag me upstairs by the front of my jeans (poor me :)

Some say that a foot rub is like worshipping a woman like a goddess, others say that feet are filthy and only good beneath a Hobbit. Whatever theory you subscribe to, I have a feeling that this foot sauce will likely be the best million bucks I ever spent considering the treatment I got, which I think makes me a whore of some kind… and I think I’m OK with that.

Relationship question? What relationship question?
Whatever happened to the girl next door you ask, well later that summer she taught me how to drive stick in a parking lot, fortunately for me she knew way more about stick than I gave her credit for ;)
iPod played "Tenacious D - Fuck Her Gently" while posting

10 Comments:

Blogger Unknown said...

I definitely sympathize for your girl next door. I hate for people to touch my feet- I can't even enjoy a pedicure. The hubby used to offer foot rubs on a regular basis, and I had to fess up that I hate them. Loathe them. With passion.

Feet freak me out in general and everyone I know thinks its hilarious to remove their shoes and try to grab me with their toes.

7:39 AM

 
Blogger Kelly said...

I once almost broke an ex's nose when he tried to give me a foot massage - it tickled and as a complete reflex I just kicked out. Shit him square in the nose. Needless to say - no more for me.

My new man knows how to get over the tickling thing - just keeps it firm and fast. Heaven!

2:38 PM

 
Blogger Kelly said...

Um...that was meant to be hit him - not 'Shit him' which would have been even more unfortunate!

2:39 PM

 
Blogger The Dark Pig said...

You guys should hear the story of when he had to rub his grandma's corns...

9:44 PM

 
Blogger Girl said...

I've uber ticklish feet as well so not so much with that light massage crap. I had a pedicure once and it creeped the heck out of me as her touch was so airy and feather and...wrong!

I'll touch feet if they are clean and not grotty but I don't want to suck toes; ewww.

5:40 AM

 
Blogger Unknown said...

Now that everyone knows I am in fact a weird neurotic mess I'll tell you this: one reason feet bother me so much is because I think they look like really weird deformed hands and I think of that part in Scary Movie 10000 with Chris Elliot and his deformed hand and he says, "Grab my little hand that's my strong hand" and the guy decides its better to fall 3 stories than touch that hand. That's how I feel about feet.

1:07 PM

 
Blogger UrbanCannibal said...

Good points all, appears as though most everyone has had a run in or at least first hand (of foot) experience with the pedular pedestal as an instrument of either erotica or nausea.

Rubbing my granny’s’ swollen corns? You swore you’d never tell! Swine!

Megs, great Scary Movie reference, very pop culturally sound of you, I too found that scene sort of hideous. I think the fact that we use this forum the way that we do tends to highlight the fact that we’re all neurotic to some extent, well maybe just not as much as you ;) You foot hating, tax evading Arkansassinite (?)

Dancinfairy, “firm & fast”? You’ve come to the right place  unless you don’t like the Smurfs (or more importantly, their houses)

JAG, I thought for sure you were a footsie kind of gal, color me wrong. I think you’ve posted pictures of your paws two or three times on your site, figured you of all readers would be comfortable with the idea of lint consumption ;)

6:57 PM

 
Blogger Girl said...

I said I don't want to suck toes!

my word verification contained SOB...
*snicker*

9:18 PM

 
Blogger Spankey said...

Just a note of interest: I found and broke one of the 26 bones in the foot. Hurts like a b@stard...

10:00 AM

 
Blogger Unknown said...

Dude awesome foot picture with the toes giving the bird. My hubs is going to die laughing when he sees that picture because I've been trying to flick him off with my toes for a few years now. I'm almost there.
As for foot rubs and foot issues. That is a constant topic in our house. He loves my feet & rubs them nightly for me. When we met he told me he didn't like feet & I told him that's cool I don't either. He like loves mine nothing super freaky he just thinks their beautiful & like to touch them. Feet tend to make me gag a little. Mine are cool, but other peoples gross me out. My hubs & I just had a little debate about his feet. I told him he need to shave the tops of his hobbit feet
Great blog, I'm going to have to read more of it.
Peace Out
~Kelli~

1:04 AM

 

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