Ever since I was very young I’ve had a bit of a foot fetish. I first noticed I had one when I’d let my grampappy smear shit on his feet and make me lick it off of them (it may sound crazy, but I recommend you try it out!). I’ll never forget the time I had at high school either; how could I ever forget my first non-consensual footjob? Poor little Mary Sue passed away in the middle of 10th grade (strokes are no jokes people), she had a bright future ahead of her.The entire school was devastated by her death, but I felt happier than ever. Her burial was on a Sunday afternoon; my funtime would be on a Monday morning. I remember feeling a rush of adrenaline as I jumped through the fence separating my ill-fated victim from my insatiable desire. My intense back pain finally ended when I grabbed the huge shovel that was troubling me so much, and I put it to use immediately.With each tug of the artifact I could feel each individual vein in my arms and legs popping; the blood buzzing in my ears was almost deafening. Covered in dirt and dust was my sleeping beauty, modelling a pair of Steve Madden stilettos and a dress that accentuated her figure (it must’ve been one or two sizes too small). I quietly crept towards the pale figure, never removing my eyes from the slight glimpse I got of Mary’s refined arches.My eyes watched as my trembling hands reached towards the end of her stilettos while my psyche carried out the plan. I swiftly removed the pair of heels and held them close to my face as I sniffed whatever trace of life was in them, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes off of Mary’s toes. A beautiful tone of cherry red brought contrast to her pale, dead skin. I leapt towards her like a cat reaching for a hopeless rat and started sniffing inbetween her toes, until I noticed a tiny bunch of maggots lodging there.My heart sank through the floor, payed tribute to Hades in the underworld, and came back to me full of hate and disappointment. My lifelong dream and fantasy had been ruined by mother nature’s plans. But I would not be stopped. I would get my footjob. A swift pull of a zipper and my throbbing member was out, ready to secrete a boiling load of our aqua vitae over the peds of a forever-resting beauty. Her smooth and defined arches adjusted quite comfortably to the shape of my penis, and off I went.Each pull of her feet towards me edged me closer, while each push kept me away from the inevitable orgasm I had been trying to avoid. Oh You understanding God, Oh Yehova sitting to the right of him in heaven, I beg you to please freeze time so I feel this forever! A small slip of my clumsy hands made my worst fear a reality; I had ejaculated. Tears slid down my cheeks as I thought about how nothing in my short life would ever top this off. Suddenly, I felt a stinging pain from my urethra.It was sand. I was ejaculating sand. Him above chose to punish me for my undeniably vulgar actions by burying me in sand. I felt a divine pull on my shoulders and legs; I was being put inside Mary’s casket. I watched patiently as her pale skin turned tan again, and her shoes flew towards her feet. My vision and my breathing were obstructed by the sand, as my ego expressed its last words to me.

“I don’t like sand. It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.”

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