Wuhan's summers are always hot and humid. In this city by the Yangtze River, the air feels soaked with water, even the wind carries a sticky sensation.
I'm a first-year design student, just turned 19. Because the male dormitory building was completely full, the school temporarily assigned a few of us freshmen to the left side of the first floor of the girls' dormitory building. The middle section is the stairwell and the supervisor's room. The right side and the floors above are all girls. The supervisor is strict, but after 3 AM, if you walk quietly through the lobby and go upstairs, it becomes a different world.
Female university students in Wuhan generally have relatively large feet, and most suffer from sweaty feet. In summer, they love to wear thick sneakers or short boots paired with flesh-colored or black short stockings. By the end of the day, their shoes and socks are filled with damp, hot foot sweat. At night, many girls casually place their worn shoes and socks in the corridor outside their dorm rooms to air out. That smell, a mixture of leather, nylon, and strong foot odor, is a disaster for some, but for me, it's a deadly aphrodisiac.
During my first month living there, I would sneak out barefoot almost every night at three a.m. The hallway was so quiet you could only hear the steady breathing from afar. I searched floor by floor, specifically targeting the shoes and stockings with the strongest scent. Sometimes I would go from the second floor to the seventh, each pair making me painfully hard. The most comfortable way was to slip the stockings over my cock and slowly rub, while burying my nose deep into the shoe shaft, imagining the shoe's owner sleeping in bed behind the door, and me masturbating with the feet that had walked on the ground during the day.
After ejaculating, I would gently place the semen-soaked stockings back, imagining their expressions when they discovered the traces the next morning. That secret thrill was stronger than any porn.
What truly made things spiral out of control was that pair of ankle boots outside dorm room 313 on the third floor.
The temperature that day was already 39 degrees, the humidity absurdly high, and someone was actually wearing short boots. I rushed over, stuck my nose into the boot shaft, and took a deep breath. The foot odor was so strong it almost made one's vision darken—not ordinary sweat smell, but a complex odor of long-term confinement, sour, rotten, and salty-fishy. The boots were a full size 40, the insoles clearly imprinted with the broad forefoot and powerful toe marks.
I pulled out the soaked insole and wrapped it around the glans, while my other hand tightly gripped the boot, smelling it. After rubbing over a hundred times, thick cum shot into the boot shaft. That night I came until my legs were weak, and by dawn the insoles were soaked with semen. I mischievously hung them at the door of room 313, vowing in my heart to find the owner of these boots.
The next day, I checked the accommodation list. Room 313 housed eight female students from the Network Communication major of the Humanities Department, all 19-year-old sophomores. I stood guard under the scorching sun near the teaching building, focusing on feet. I quickly identified Luo Ying—about 165 cm tall, with a broad face, bright eyes, and feet that were clearly size 40. She was wearing sandals that day, her broad, thick feet fully exposed, toes round and strong, with a high arch. Two classmates beside her were whispering words of comfort, probably talking about the shoe inserts discovered that morning.
Luo Ying seemed in a bad mood but didn't lash out. She just lowered her head to look at her own foot, lost in thought.
In the afternoon there was PE class. I hid in a corner of the playground, watching her run back and forth in pink sneakers and flesh-colored short socks. After all that sweating, the smell of those feet can be imagined.
In the evening, I deliberately ate something to stay alert. Around 1 a.m., the drug's effect kicked in, and my dick was painfully hard. I made my way to the third floor. Before I even reached the door of room 313, I smelled that familiar, strong foot odor. The sneakers were placed outside the door, and inside them were indeed the flesh-colored stockings from the day, already soaked through. The toe area was grayish-black, almost faded, and the nylon fabric was shiny from foot sweat.
I pulled out the stockings and slipped them over my cock, burying my nose in the shoe for a deep inhale. After rubbing a few times, door 313 suddenly opened, and the light turned on.
All eight girls were still awake. Luo Ying stood at the door, looking at me coldly — naked from the waist down, with her smelly stockings still wrapped around my dick, and her sneakers in my hand.
I froze in place.
Luo Ying merely crooked a finger, her voice calm: "Come in."
As if bewitched, I walked in. The smell of foot odor was even stronger in the room. There were eight beds and eight pairs of noticeably large feet. They were all locals from Wuhan, not particularly tall, but their feet were generally size 38 or above.
“So you’re that pervert.” Someone chuckled in a low voice.
“Your dick sure isn’t small.”
“Yingying’s socks are so stinky and he still dares to put them on; isn’t he afraid of getting sick?”
Luo Ying locked the door, sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes fixed on my purplish-hard cock, and said to the others: 'Sisters, how should we deal with him?'
A fair-skinned, plain-looking girl (later I learned her name was Xu Jing, the class league secretary, size 39 shoes) smiled and said, “Since he likes to rub with our smelly socks, let him rub to his heart’s content. Take out all the shoes and socks we’ve worn and let him perform for us.”
The others all agreed. Someone even said directly: "Might as well use his semen to wash our feet. I heard that stuff is good for the skin."
“I haven’t washed my feet for two days; today is perfect.”
"How could yours be more stinky than Luo Ying's?"
Luo Ying interrupted them, her voice carrying a hint of laughter: "Take off your shoes first. Let him smell them one by one."
The eight 19-year-old girls sat side by side on the edge of the bed and began taking off their shoes. Xu Jing was the first to kick off her big sneakers, and the flesh-colored stocking feet immediately let off a puff of white steam; the people around them covered their noses and laughed. Luo Ying also laughed: “Our class monitor really is something, the first to ‘educate’ the prisoner.”
Xu Jing lifted her foot and waved it at me: 'Since you like it, first use Luo Ying's stockings to perform for us.'
I was beyond caring about shame. In front of eight pairs of eyes, I grasped my cock, still sheathed in Luo Ying's stockings, and quickly stroked it. Two girls secretly slipped their hands between their own legs. The intense collective foot odor, the friction of the soaked stockings, and the thrill of being watched made me cum quickly, my semen directly soaking through the toe of the stocking.
The girls gasped softly in amazement.
Luo Ying walked over, used two fingers to pull off the soaked stockings, looked at the white stain on them, and said: 'What a pity. If used for washing feet, it might cure foot odor. Can you cum again?'
She directly grasped my glans and rubbed it. The aphrodisiac made it impossible for me to go soft; my cock stood tall again. I mustered my courage and said, 'I want... to smell your feet.'
Luo Ying smiled: 'The branch secretary has already taken them off, go ahead.'
Xu Jing excitedly stepped her big stocking-clad foot onto my face. The foot sole was broad and thick, completely covering my facial features. I took a deep breath—the thick smell of foot sweat, stewed in sneakers all day, rushed straight to my brain. Luo Ying, meanwhile, rummaged under the bed for a pile of unwashed old stockings, picked the dirtiest pair to put on, and said: 'Today, let you witness the power of us 'Stinky Feet Eight Fairies'.'
I lay on the ground. Xu Jing's foot pressed against my face, while Luo Ying's large foot had already clamped around my cock and began rubbing up and down. The sole of her foot was fleshy, her toes strong; even through the thin, dirty stockings, she could completely envelop my entire cock. The pressure was neither light nor heavy, each slide sending what felt like an electric current from the glans straight up my spine.
Xu Jing, while using her toes to pinch my nose, asked: 'Does my foot smell good?'
I nodded desperately.
Luo Ying quickly lost patience and switched to grinding the dirtiest part of her sock—the toe area—forcefully against the glans. The intense pleasure made me ejaculate instantly, semen spraying all over her foot. She spread the semen evenly on her sole and then directly slipped her foot into the short boots I had ejaculated into the previous night, saying to Xu Jing: "I'll keep it sealed for a day, give him athlete's foot."
Xu Jing, however, said: 'No need, I have my own. Let me do it.'
She moved to Luo Ying's spot and continued rubbing with her own large foot. The next girl, with darker skin (Yi Fangyuan), came over and pressed her even smellier sneaker-clad foot against my face. Her scent was more direct, more pungent, carrying the sour, musty odor of long-unwashed feet. She looked at me disdainfully: 'Remember, my name is Yi Fangyuan. Starting tomorrow, use your semen to wash my feet and stockings every day. Otherwise, I'll send you to the security office.'
I could only nod.
That night, eight girls took turns giving me a footjob with their big, smelly stockinged feet. Some were clumsy, while others were as skilled as if they had practiced many times. Semen was shot onto different feet, stockings, and insoles again and again. By the time they were tired and ready to sleep, my cock was still hard from the drugs, but the head was already red, swollen, and shiny from the friction of various foot grime and stockings.
Finally, I lay on a pile of shoes and stockings emitting a strong, mixed odor of foot sweat, closing my eyes wearily. A girl named Li Jing's sneaker was still hanging on my dick.
Before dawn, Luo Ying kicked me awake, her voice low and hoarse yet carrying a laugh:
“Go back. Same time tomorrow night, crawl over here yourself. Remember to bring condoms... no, forget it, using your semen to care for our feet is more practical.”
I nodded, picked up my own panties, and slipped back to the first floor barefoot.
From that day on, 313 became my regular late-night destination.
Eight 19-year-old college girls, eight pairs of big, sweaty feet, and countless stockings and sneakers soaked through with foot sweat became the unspoken game between us. No one called the police, and no one made a fuss. They treated me as the most useful “foot-washing tool” and “footjob toy,” while I sank into the extreme pleasure of being surrounded by the collective stench of feet and trampled by broad soles.
Wuhan's summer is still long.
And the midnight games in the dormitory building had only just begun.
The next evening, I appeared on time in the third-floor corridor.
The door to 313 was left ajar. When pushed open, only a small bedside lamp was on in the room, casting a dim yellow light. All eight girls were still awake; some were leaning on the bed scrolling on their phones, while others had already stretched their feet out beyond the bed edge, dangling them. That familiar smell in the air — the strong stench of feet accumulated over a whole day from eight pairs of big feet — was even heavier and thicker than last night.
Luo Ying was sitting on the bed closest to the door, already wearing a pair of flesh-colored stockings I had ejaculated on yesterday, which she had then kept sealed for a whole day. The surface of the stockings faintly showed dark sweat stains and dried semen spots. She looked up, saw me, and merely curved the corner of her mouth slightly:
“Since you’re here, take them off. Take off all your pants and come in naked.”
Obediently, I took off my pants and underwear at the door. My cock was already half-hard, quickly rising under the gaze of eight pairs of eyes. Luo Ying hooked her shoe pad with her toes, signaling me to come over.
“Smell it first.”
I knelt down and pressed my nose against her already wet foot again. A day of being confined had made the smell richer and more pungent, with a distinct sourness and salty fishiness. I took a few deep breaths; my cock was fully erect, with clear fluid seeping from the tip.
Xu Jing got down from the adjacent bed and also extended her feet in front of me. She wasn't wearing stockings today, barefoot. Her feet were broad and thick, with a bit of unwashed grime from daytime exercise still between her toes. She directly pressed her big sole against my face, using her foot sole to block my nostrils and mouth:
“Today it’s my turn to use him first. He didn’t cum much last night, not enough for me to wash my feet.”
Her foot pressed down hard, making it almost hard to breathe. At the same time, Luo Ying used both feet to clamp my cock, starting to rub it slowly and forcefully up and down. The soles of her feet were soft and warm, her toes flexibly spreading and closing, completely enveloping the entire cock. Every time she slid up to the glans, she would deliberately grind the slit with the dirtiest part of her sock.
The other girls gathered around. Yifangyuan handed me a just-taken-off sneaker that was still steaming hot:
“Hold it in one hand and sniff with it, and don’t keep the other hand idle. Help me suck all the smell out of these shoes.”
I held the shoe shaft with one hand, burying my nose in it and inhaling deeply, while my other hand was pulled by Li Jing and pressed against her equally exaggeratedly large instep. Li Jing wore black short stockings today, the toe area completely darkened, the fabric shiny from being soaked with foot sweat. She pressed her foot against the back of my hand, slowly moving upward, finally pressing the soaked stocking toe directly into my palm.
“Rub.” She ordered.
Gradually, only suppressed breathing and the faint, wet sounds of feet rubbing against cocks remained in the room. Luo Ying's technique was more skilled than last night—she knew what rhythm would make me feel the most agonizing yet most pleasurable: sometimes fast stroking, sometimes suddenly stopping, using only her toes to pinch and gently twist the glans. Xu Jing kept her foot pressed against my face, occasionally lifting it a little to let me breathe before covering it again.
“Cum.” Luo Ying suddenly sped up.
I surrendered almost instantly. Thick cum sprayed between her two feet, dripping down the stockings. She didn't let go immediately but continued using her feet to spread the semen evenly over her soles and between her toes. Then she lifted one foot and stuffed the sock tip, now covered in white mess, into my mouth:
“Lick it clean. Starting today, anything that comes on our feet, we have to clean up ourselves.”
I held the salty, musky fabric in my mouth, my tongue licking every inch. The girl beside me let out a low chuckle.
That night, they tried several different ways of playing.
Yi Fangyuan made me lie flat, sat on my chest, clamped my cock between her two big feet, rubbing it back and forth with her soles, while ordering me to lick every line on the soles of her feet with my tongue. Her foot sweat was copious and salty; by the end, my mouth was filled with that intense taste. Li Jing, meanwhile, put a sneaker over my cock, making me thrust into the slippery insole inside the shoe myself, while she used her other bare foot to press on my lower abdomen, controlling my rhythm.
“Don’t cum too fast.” She lightly scraped my scrotum with her toes. “We haven’t had enough fun yet.”
Xu Jing's favorite thing is to directly step her foot on my face, making me smell it while using her other foot and Luo Ying's together to give me a double footjob, sandwiching my cock. Two broad soles pressing up and down, left and right, with different pressure and temperature—that feeling of being played with by two pairs of stinky feet simultaneously almost drove me crazy.
By the latter half of the night, eight people had taken turns using me at least two rounds. My glans was rubbed red and swollen, and I came four or five times, but each time the amount was less than the last. In the end they piled all the stockings and shoe insoles they had worn on my chest and face, letting me rest buried in that pile of damp, hot, stinking cloth.
Luo Ying sat on the edge of the bed and gently kicked my face with her foot:
"Continue tomorrow night. Starting now, you have to come every night. If you run into us during the day, remember to lower your head. Understand?"
I nodded.
She smiled contentedly and threw a stocking still marked with traces of semen onto my face:
“Take this pair back and wash them clean, then return them to me the day after tomorrow. When you wash them, remember to smell carefully, and don’t wash away the scent.”
I carried that pile of stockings and shoes, bare from the waist down, and slipped back to the first floor. The hallway was quiet, only the faint sound of a TV from the caretaker's room in the distance. By the time I returned to my own bed, the sky was already beginning to lighten.
The next few days, this pattern became a fixed routine.
Sometimes they would prepare the smelliest shoes and socks of the day in advance, placing them at the door waiting for me. Sometimes they would pin me to the ground, taking turns stepping on my face and cock with their feet until I had nothing left to shoot. Occasionally, someone would shove their foot into my mouth, ordering me to use my tongue to clean the grime between their toes while using their other foot to quickly jerk me off.
The most excessive time was on a weekend. All eight of them were there, the room door locked from the inside. They tied me to a chair and played with me for a full three hours using only their feet and stockings. By the end, I was ejaculating clear fluid, but they still wouldn't stop, taking turns pressing the glans with their soles to squeeze out the last bit.
The last thing Luo Ying said that night was:
“From now on, the feet of the eight of us are all yours to take care of. The semen has to be enough, and the taste has to be strong enough. If you can’t do it...” she pinched and twisted my already swollen glans with her toes, “then we’ll find someone else to play with you.”
I nodded, my voice raspy:
"Got it."
Wuhan's summer is indeed still long.
And the door on the third floor of the dormitory building would open punctually for me every dawn. Eight pairs of large feet, countless pairs of soaked stockings and sneakers, became the most secretive and irresistible addiction of my college life. Some scents, once accustomed to, are never forgotten.
A month quickly passed.
There is no sign of Wuhan's summer weakening. The air always carries a damp heat. The corridor of the girls' dormitory building still wafts that familiar, thick, lingering smell of foot odor mixed with stockings late into the night. I have completely fixed three o'clock as my regular biological clock. Every night, no matter how tired I am during the day, at that time, my dick hardens on its own, and my mind is filled with the pile of shoes and stockings at the door of room 313.
Luo Ying and the others had completely come to regard me as their exclusive "tool."
At first, it was just once every night, but later it became whenever they had free time, they could call me. Sometimes in the afternoon when there were no classes, someone would message me to come up and 'help wash feet'; sometimes at two in the morning, the dormitory door would be slightly ajar, with someone inside already having laid out the day's smelliest shoes and socks, waiting.
I never dare to be late.
That day was Friday. There was a high-temperature warning during the day, with the feels-like temperature exceeding forty degrees Celsius. Physical education class was rescheduled to the hottest part of the afternoon. I hid in the shade of a tree in the corner of the playground, watching the eight people from Class 313 run and warm up under the scorching sun. Luo Ying was wearing those pink sneakers I had already cum on several times; her flesh-colored short socks were completely soaked with sweat, clinging to the tops of her feet, clearly outlining her soles. Xu Jing's sneakers were even more exaggerated, with a dark ring of sweat stains around the shoe opening. Yi Fangyuan simply tied her shoelaces very loosely, stopping every few steps to pull up her shoes; each time she did, you could see the sweat-shining insoles inside.
After class, they went back to the dorm without even taking a bath.
At eleven thirty in the evening, Luo Ying sent a message:
“Come on up. The smell is especially strong today. Ejaculate a few more times.”
I almost ran up.
Pushing open the door, the room was as hot as a steamer. All eight people were only wearing loose tank tops and shorts, but on their feet, they uniformly wore that day's sneakers and stockings; no one had taken them off. The stench of feet in the air was so thick it was almost tangible, mixed with the sour, musty smell of sweat and nylon fabric that had been stewed all day.
Luo Ying was sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, one foot swaying idly. She looked up at me, her gaze lazy:
“Take it all off. Kneel in the middle.”
I quickly took off all my clothes. My cock was fully erect, the tip glistening. Eight pairs of eyes fell on it simultaneously, and someone chuckled softly.
Xu Jing moved first. She kicked off her sneakers, revealing flesh-colored stocking feet soaked with sweat. The toe area of the stockings was completely blackened; the foot sole area showed clear, dark footprint marks. She walked up to me and directly stepped on my face with one big foot:
“Smell enough first. I ran five thousand meters today, so the scent is exclusive for you.”
The scalding, damp, intense sole completely covered my face. I took a deep breath, and the foot odor intensified by sneakers and high-intensity exercise rushed straight to my head, making my dick twitch instantly. Xu Jing contentedly pinched my nose with her toes and twisted gently:
“If you like it, make a sound.”
I grunted. Her other foot had already stepped onto my cock, slowly rubbing back and forth with the sole. The pressure wasn't heavy but precisely ground against the entire shaft and glans. The stockings, soaked with foot sweat, became slippery and hot, each slide producing a faint wet sound.
Luo Ying walked over from behind and placed her two equally soaked feet on either side of my face, together with Xu Jing, completely trapping my head between four large feet. The four soles took turns changing positions—sometimes the soles pressed against my mouth, sometimes toes were stuffed into my nostrils, sometimes the entire instep covered my eyes. The air was almost filled with foot odor; I could only breathe during the occasional gaps when they lifted their feet.
“Today we take turns.” Luo Ying’s voice came from above, “Everyone will make you cum at least once. If it’s not enough, we’ll make up the rest tomorrow.”
Yi Fangyuan had already taken off her sneakers and walked over barefoot. Her feet were a bit darker than others', with a little dirt remaining between her toes, and the lines on her soles were whitened by sweat. She crouched down, grabbed my hand, and forced me to touch the sole of her foot:
“Feel carefully. Remember the taste and touch of each foot. Later, even with your eyes closed, you must be able to tell whose is whose.”
My fingers sank into her soft yet strong soles. They were hot and wet, with a distinct granular texture. She stared into my eyes, slowly moving her foot onto my cock, clamping it together with Xu Jing's. Two pairs of feet, one above the other, began stroking it.
The pleasure came urgently and fiercely. The sensation of being played with by two pairs of slick, large feet simultaneously was too much; I soon felt the urge to cum. Sensing my trembling, Xu Jing suddenly sped up, her soles grinding heavily over the glans:
“Cum. Cum on our feet.”
Semen shot out, most landing between the two pairs of feet, flowing down the soles. Xu Jing and Yi Fangyuan didn't let go, continuing to smear the semen with their feet until the entire soles and between the toes were covered in white, turbid fluid.
Luo Ying nodded with satisfaction and extended her foot over.
“Next one. My turn.”
She was wearing the short boots and stockings that I had shot many times. The stockings were completely soaked through with foot sweat and previous semen, the color so dark it was almost black, with a thin layer of white crystals on the surface. She brought her feet together, clamping my cock that had just been shot and was still in its refractory period, and began to rub it slowly and forcefully.
“Don’t rush to go soft. We’ve got plenty of ways to make you hard again.”
As she spoke, she used her toes to precisely pinch the glans and gently twist it. Her other foot stepped on my scrotum, pressing with just the right amount of pressure. That mix of pain and pleasure quickly made me hard again. Luo Ying looked at her handiwork, a smile curling at the corner of her mouth, and sped up.
This time she played longer. Sometimes she stroked quickly, sometimes suddenly stopped and just rubbed the head lightly with her sole, sometimes used her toes to part the slit and squeeze inside. She had me sweating profusely, my lower back aching, yet I couldn't quite reach the peak. She seemed to relish this sense of control, and only when I couldn't help but beg did she suddenly speed up, making me ejaculate onto her feet for the second time.
The semen was less than the first time but thicker. Luo Ying lifted her foot, watching the white, turbid fluid drip down her instep, then extended her foot to my mouth:
“Cleaned it up.”
I stuck out my tongue and slowly licked away the mixture of semen and foot sweat. The taste was salty and musky, mixed with her unique foot odor, yet it made me hard again.
The people behind came one after another.
Li Jing liked to slip her sneakers directly onto my cock, letting me thrust into them myself, while she used her bare feet to press against my lower abdomen to control the rhythm. The insoles, soaked through with foot sweat, were soft and slippery, and each insertion could produce lewd, wet sounds. She demanded that I must cum inside the shoes, and after finishing, she would take out the insoles for me to smell, to confirm if 'the amount was sufficient'.
There was a girl named Zhou Yun whose feet were especially large, a full size 41. She didn't talk much but was the most forceful. She would press her entire foot heavily on my face, almost suffocating me, while using her other foot to quickly stroke until I came, my legs weak. After I finished, she wasn't in a hurry to move away; she just kept her foot on my face, letting me slowly come back to my senses beneath her foot.
The gentlest was the girl named Xiao Ya. Her feet were relatively smaller, size 38, but she was the best at using her toes. She would spread her toes one by one, gripping different parts of the penis and gently scraping, sometimes rubbing the urethral opening with her toe pads, other times wrapping the entire shaft with her sole and moving slowly up and down. She came the least, but lasted the longest, each time pushing me to the brink before suddenly slowing down, repeating several times before letting me release.
By the middle of the night, I had already climaxed seven times. The semen went from thick white to thin, and in the end it was almost transparent. The glans was red, swollen, and shiny; even a light touch made me tremble with sensitivity. Yet the eight pairs of feet still had not been fully satisfied.
Luo Ying checked the time and clapped her hands.
“Enough. That’s it for today. Put all the shoes and socks away and take them back to wash. When washing them, remember to smell carefully; the scent can’t be faint. You’ll still need to wear them the night after tomorrow.”
I nodded and began gathering things one by one. The stockings soaked with semen, the insoles, even a few sneakers that had been ejaculated directly into the shoe shafts—I held them all in my arms. The room was filled with the strong mixed smell of semen and foot odor. The eight girls had already started returning to their beds; some directly tucked the feet I had just licked under the covers, while others were still quietly discussing which shoes to wear tomorrow to be smelly enough.
When I carried that pile of things downstairs, the motion-sensor light in the hallway didn't turn on. In the darkness, only the smells of foot odor and semen followed me.
Back in my own bed, I didn't sleep immediately. Instead, I spread out those stockings and shoe insoles, smelling each one to confirm their scents were still there. A few pairs were too wet from my ejaculations, making the smell even stronger. I carefully folded them, stuffed them under my pillow, and then closed my eyes.
The days that followed spiraled completely out of control.
Sometimes it's daytime. I'm studying in the library, my phone suddenly vibrates. Luo Ying sends a photo—her foot on the desk, the sole of her stockinged foot facing the camera, caption just two words: 'come up.'
Without another word, I packed my things and left. Arriving at 313, they were taking an afternoon nap. The curtains were drawn tightly, the room exceptionally stuffy. Luo Ying lay on the bed, one foot sticking out from under the covers, waving it:
"Be quiet. Someone else is sleeping. Use your mouth."
I knelt by the bed and took her foot into my mouth. The stocking was already soaked with foot sweat; as my tongue swept over the sole, I could clearly feel every line and the slick, wet sensation. She let out a soft nasal sound, her toes curling gently in my mouth. After a while, she extended her other foot, clamping it against my face, and whispered:
"If it's hard, do it yourself. Come on my feet."
I stroked my penis with one hand, my nose and mouth completely occupied by her foot. When I came, she deliberately clamped the glans with her toes, making the semen spray all over her sole and between her toes. After finishing, she withdrew her foot under the blanket, lazily waving her hand:
“Go out. Remember to close the door properly.”
Sometimes it's a group activity.
On weekends, they would lock me in the dormitory and play with me all day long. From morning till night, eight feet took turns. Someone would step on my face with their foot to make me smell it, someone would use their feet to quickly jerk off my cock, someone would stuff their foot into my mouth and order me to clean between their toes, someone would simply sit on my chest and play with me using both feet simultaneously. Semen was shot repeatedly onto different feet, socks, and shoes, and then I was ordered to clean it all up with my tongue.
By later on, I could no longer tell whether I was being punished or enjoying it. My cock had almost stopped responding to ordinary stimulation; only when I smelled that familiar foot odor, and felt the wet, slippery soles of nylon-stocking-clad feet wrapping around it, did it quickly harden again. They seemed to have noticed this too, and liked more and more to, just as I was about to go soft, suddenly press the day’s stinkiest foot onto my face, or clamp the shoes they had just taken off, still warm from their bodies, over my nose.
“Did you smell it?” Luo Ying asked me once, with a hint of amusement in her voice, “That’s the real reason you’re getting hard.”
I nodded.
She scraped her toes across my lips:
“Then remember this well. These eight pairs of feet are your responsibility from now on. Keep the scent well, and keep the semen supplied enough. If you can’t do that...”
She didn't finish, just gently stepped on my already swollen glans with her foot.
I know the consequences.
Wuhan's summer continues. The heat waves grow fiercer day by day, and the foot odor in the girls' dormitory grows stronger day by day. And I have completely sunk into this smell, unable to leave that door that opens for me every early morning.
Some addictions, once formed, truly cannot be kicked.
Eight big feet, countless pairs of soaked stockings and sneakers, became the most hidden and hottest secret of my four years at college.
And the story was far from finished.
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