Centaur with a foot fetish

by Josh Dugan

Even a centaur can wish upon a star.

“Now I've seen everything,” I told my centaur friend Eddie. His beautiful stallion's body gleamed in the starlight, its handsome contours lengthened with an extra pair of hind legs he had added recently. Eddie was into transformation big-time. But you'd never know he added them—they moved gracefully enough, with a six-legged gait that I can only describe as elegant.

But he had been dabbling in transformation again.

“What happened to your hooves?” I asked.

He laughed, shrugging his broad, muscular shoulders, and shuffled his feet on the smooth wood of the backyard deck. All six of them.

“I'm not sure if it was wishing on a star, or transformation juice, or what,” he said. “But it's sure a lot quieter indoors.”

Indeed, I had been startled when he snuck up behind me and wrapped his long, muscular arms around me, although my gasp was immediately quenched by his kiss. Normally, the clomping of hooves, which had become noisier since he had become six-legged, announced his handsome presence thoughout the house, well before one laid eyes on his magnificent body.

But this had been a silent strike, a first since I had known him. And silent it was, padded by the gentle strength of six strong, handsome human male feet at the end of his two front and four rear equine legs.

“I kinda like them,” I admitted. “They are quiet. And easier on the flooring. And on the ears.”

He laughed. “They're easier on me, too. I've always envied you humans for your nice feet. They're far sexier than hooves. And much more comfortable!” He shifted his weight, curling a foreleg to rub one foot against the other foreleg.

“Thanks,” I said. “But your tonnage—aren't hooves better adapted for it?”

“We'll see,” Eddie smiled. “I can feel my feet strengthening when I give them a good workout. I suppose I could levitate some of my weight off them if I ever needed to.”

“You're lucky I like them,” I said, a little aroused by the beauty of the six handsome feet. “You're going to need help washing them.”

“I was counting on that,” he smiled, blushing. “But I could do the same for you.”

“I can wash my own feet, but thanks for the offer,” I said, puzzled. “They're right there where I can reach them.”

“No,” he said, “what I meant was if you had six feet I could help you wash them also.”

“Thanks, but one six-legged centaur is about all this house can hold,” I laughed. “You already take up the whole bed. But at least I don't have to worry about your hooves kicking in your sleep—and it's nice to have you padding about rather than clomping.” I added, “Why don't you give me a lift onto your back, ride me indoors, and I'll ride you upstairs. It will be our first quiet stair climb.”

“Look,” Eddie said, “why don't you go six-legged also? Just add a couple pairs more. It would turn me on, 'cause you know I like feet as much as you do. And I promise, I'll enjoy washing all of them as much as you'll enjoy mine.”

“Even though mine are bigger,” he couldn't help adding. “Ooooh, Eddie!” I said, hugging his beautifully muscled torso and giving him one of my better French kisses. We were both getting turned on. “Anything for you!”

He returned the French kiss and lifted me off the ground with his wonderful, gentle hug. I wrapped my legs around his muscular waist, then another pair, and then another pair. Wow!

“That's right,” he said, remembering. “It was a wish upon a star. Like the one I made just now!”

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