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Friday, May 28, 2010

New Story

Like stories about feet? Here's the sample of the new piece posted on the site. It's the first part of a trilogy (I think...).

"Discovery"
Part 1 of the Lindsey Saga

I'd known Lindsey off and on for years, since we were kids. In fact, one of my very first memories involves Lindsey wearing a bright red sundress, looking at me as I sat in a sandbox. We lived on the same block of the same street our whole lives, moving in similar circles. We went to the same schools, even the same classes most of the time. Took the same swimming classes during the summer, same town sports programs throughout the year (I was better at soccer, but Lindsey is a killer softball pitcher). Familiarity didn't exactly breed contempt, but while most of our social circle paired off to experiment in junior high and high school, we never did.

In fact, my entire freshman year of college, trying to survive the surprising rigor of Wright State, I never once thought about Lindsey. In college, and the weird subculture that grows up around it, I found far more interesting women to chase, dream about, masturbate to. Try as I might I never could manage to close the deal with any girl, no matter how interested she seemed. Call it a character flaw.

Well, I should be honest, shouldn't I? It's not like you know who I am, or even care that much about what I'm all about. The real reason I could never get a girl to go all the way with me was my foot fetish. Somewhere between first and second base, I'd start trying to touch the girl's feet. Sometimes this wasn't so bad; April Grainger really liked my foot rubs, actually, and if her dad hadn't had a heart attack during Christmas break we might have been a hot item. But more often than not, the lady in question would be a little freaked out. Offended sometimes, like they couldn't believe I'd bypass breasts to play with toes.

And since we're in full disclosure mode here, I should tell you it wasn't just about foot rubs. I wanted to kiss their feet, too. Lick them, suck on their toes. I would wonder what Megan's feet smelled like after her jog. I'd notice Laura's new pedicure and wonder what the lotion tasted like.

Yeah, I know. I'm a bit of a freak, but it could be a lot worse. It's not like I wanted to rape school girls or take a dump on anyone's chest.

I couldn't really control these desires, either. At some point, always early into any potential hookup—nevermind relationship—I'd go too far, reveal too much about my foot fixation. And that'd be it, the only question after that being, “Will she run screaming or simply sidle away and vanish into the night?”

As you can imagine, this all kept me a little too busy to be worried about Lindsey, a girl who simply existed on the periphery of my childhood. But as I found out not long after I got home for the summer, Lindsey had kept me in her thoughts the entire year.


Read the rest here!

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