Description Brandon has a thus-far unrequited crush on his friend Ethan. A wish gives him the chance to push things forward, but the results aren't what he expected!
|Updated||16 Feb 2019|
Brandon sat down on his bed and turned over the package from his uncle in his hands. His uncle was always sending postcards from far-off places, but a package was unusual. Brandon wondered what could be in it. He carefully opened the box, revealing an object wrapped in many layers of paper, and a postcard. The postcard had a picture of an ancient city on the bank of a palm-tree-lined river. On the back, his uncle had written, “You’ll be graduating soon, so I thought I’d send you my best WISHes. Haha! Your affectionate uncle, Malcolm.”
Malcolm had sent him some strange gifts before, always including some kind of terrible pun with the postcard. Brandon wondered what he meant by this one. He carefully unwrapped the layers of paper surrounding the object… which looked to be a fairly nondescript oil lamp. It looked quite grubby, actually, and there appeared to be a dent in one side. Why on earth would his uncle have thought this would make a good gift?
Brandon had to laugh. It was the thought that counted, he supposed, but he had no idea what to do with a dinged-up old oil lamp.
At that moment, his phone pinged, and there was a message from his friend, Ethan.
“We still on for tomorrow?”
Brandon quickly put down the lamp and picked up his phone.
“Yes, definitely!” he texted back.
After a few moments, his phone pinged again.
“Sweet, see you then!”
Brandon smiled. He always looked forward to spending time with Ethan. He wondered if Ethan knew just how much Brandon liked him. He kept telling himself he should say something, but he was always worried about messing up their friendship. If Ethan didn’t want to be boyfriends, then at least they could hang out as friends.
Brandon put down his phone, and picked up the lamp his uncle had sent. “If you were any good,” he said aloud to the tarnished piece of junk, “you really would grant me a wish, and maybe I could finally get up the courage to ask Ethan out.”
As soon as the words left his lips, Brandon felt the lamp lurch in his grasp. He sat up sharply, staring at it as he held it in his hands. What… had just happened? A thought occurred to him—what if this was like a real magic lamp? But no, it couldn’t be, magic wasn’t real… still, his curiosity led him to gently rub the side of the lamp—which made the object practically lift out of his grasp, smoke curling from out of the spout, as a shimmering, semi-transparent form started to take shape before him!
It was humanoid, but was pure smoke from the waist down; from the waist up, a torso rippling with muscles, and a dark, handsome face… Brandon couldn’t believe it, a real genie! “You mentioned a wish?” the figure said, raising an eyebrow and smiling knowingly at Brandon as he hovered there in front of him.
“I… I… what? Are you real?” Brandon tentatively reached out and touched the genie’s thickly muscled forearm, and then quickly drew his hand back as he touched solid flesh. “S-sorry! Uh, how… how does this work? Should I be, uh, wishing for your freedom, or something?”
The genie laughed, and shook his head. “You need not worry about that. I earn my freedom by granting wishes, one at a time. I will grant you a single wish, and then my lamp and I will vanish, to find a new master, bringing me one step closer to freedom. I must warn you, though—whatever you wish for, it cannot be reversed, so think carefully!” The genie folded his arms as he awaited Brandon’s decision.
Brandon’s mind reeled. This couldn’t possibly be real, and yet… here was this amazing—and amazingly hot—genie right in front of him, offering to grant him a wish! He had to get this right. What would give him the best chance with Ethan, without doing anything bad to Ethan, or to anyone? “I wish,” Brandon said, carefully, “that I were irresistible to Ethan.”
The genie broke out into a wide grin and clicked his fingers… but nothing happened. Brandon looked down at himself, unchanged, and back up at the genie, who chuckled again.
“Your wish will come true on the morrow,” the genie explained, and Brandon noticed he seemed to be getting more and more transparent. “Thank you for your wish. I take my leave now… I hope you are satisfied with the results. Tomorrow morning, when you awake, you will have a body that Ethan cannot resist.”
The genie waved farewell, and before Brandon knew it, he was gone. Brandon glanced down to where he’d set the lamp, only to find that missing, too.
Brandon looked down at himself again, double-checking that nothing had changed. He frowned and looked again at the spot where the lamp had been. Had he imagined it all? Some sort of brief psychotic break? Or would he really wake up tomorrow looking like Ethan’s dream man? Brandon shook his head. He threw away the packaging the lamp had come in, and stuck his uncle’s postcard in the box where he kept all the others.
Nonetheless, he couldn’t stop thinking about the encounter for the rest of the day. He began to worry about his wish—just what kind of guy was Ethan into, anyway? If the wish was real, what kind of body would he wake up in tomorrow? A text from his roommate Mark let him know that he’d be alone for the evening, which was kind of a relief—Brandon half wanted to talk to somebody about what had happened, but he knew they’d think he was crazy. It took him a while to get to sleep that evening, but he managed it by convincing himself that it couldn’t be real. He’d just go and hang out with Ethan tomorrow like normal, it’d be cool, it’d be fun. Brandon fell asleep remembering all the times they’d hung out together before.
Brandon ended up sleeping in the following morning. Light was streaming in through the window. Brandon groaned and tried to pull a pillow over his face, but his hands felt heavy and numb. He tried to cover his face with his hands, but something felt very wrong. He felt smooth feet on his face, heels, soles, and toes. Brandon’s eyes snapped open.
There were feet on his wrists!
He sat up sharply, jaw dropping at what he saw. His hands were gone, now replaced with what looked like his own feet. He scrambled to kick the covers off his legs, confirming he still had feet there, too—which meant he now had four feet, and no hands. The feet on his wrists looked identical to the ones on his legs—and they were just as heavy. It was a good thing Brandon kept in good shape, otherwise his arms might’ve been more taxed by the weight of his new feet.
Brandon stared at his new feet. He flexed the toes. They moved. He pressed the soles together. He could feel the heels, balls, and toes touching. He shook them. They bounced heavily, pulling at his wrists, but they were definitely real. Brandon felt his heart start to beat faster. What was he going to do? How on earth would he deal with having feet instead of hands? What was Ethan going to think of him now? That genie! Brandon gritted his teeth. Some trickster demon, or something, messing up his wish! Well, he’d show that genie! He’d figure out how to live with feet on his wrists, and he’d do it so well, Ethan wouldn’t be freaked out at all! Brandon stood up, determined.
First things first: a shower. After all, that was how Brandon normally started his day, so why should having feet for hands get in the way of that? Brandon thought about it for a moment and realized there were probably a dozen reasons why the big, cumbersome feet gracing his wrists would get in the way of that, but he shook his head and walked to the bathroom anyway. When he did so he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror… it was so odd to see himself with two big feet on his wrists. But still, they didn’t exactly look out of place—whatever the genie had done had made his new feet look natural at the ends of his arms.
In the bathroom, Brandon encountered his first challenge: undressing. While normally shedding his T-shirt and boxers took mere seconds, Brandon found himself struggling to get his shirt off with his big, clumsy feet. Every time he got close, his toes would lose their grip on the fabric, and the hem would fall back to his waist, and he’d be standing there looking helplessly at the soles of his new feet. He took a deep breath and started again. No point in getting frustrated. He had to stop trying to treat his feet like hands. They were feet, and feet work differently.
Eventually, he worked out how to hook the hem of his shirt over one foot, with a little extra grip from his toes, and pull the shirt over his head completely. “Yes!” he said to himself, excited as he watched the shirt drift to the floor, landing on his other feet. He smirked to himself. So many feet he had now!
Next, his boxers. Tucking his toes into them wasn’t as difficult, but he marvelled at having his feet pressing against his waist as he got them to that position. He hadn’t thought about this, but since his feet were bigger than his hands, he could feel more of himself through his soles. As he started to carefully tug his boxers down, they snagged on something, but it wasn’t his feet—given the circumstances, Brandon had completely ignored his morning wood, which was catching at the boxers as he tried to pull them down. Brandon’s boner poked through the fly of the boxers, completely preventing him from pulling them down.
Brandon sighed, untucking his toes from the waistband, and grabbed for his dick—which just meant he batted at it with his big, soft sole. He grimaced, and tried to grab his dick with both sets of toes to manoeuvre it back into the boxers, but he just ended up fumbling with his dick over and over again, soft toes rubbing up and down the shaft, which even with Brandon’s growing frustration, just made him harder.
It was clear he was going to have to deal with his arousal first. Sighing, he instinctively started the motion to jerk off, but of course with a foot for a hand, he just wriggled his toes against his shaft as he tried to grip it. Changing tacks, he grasped the shaft between the arches of his new feet, and began pumping tentatively, gently and slowly at first as he was so unused to the motion. He’d never given nor received a foot-job before—how strange that his first time for both would be with himself!
He was surprised how good it felt, these big, heavy, soft feet wrapped around his dick, and he started to pump faster, but as he did, one of his feet slipped, and he fumbled with his dick, losing his grip, having to carefully grasp his shaft between his soles again and slowly pump between them. He fumbled a few more times, especially as his dick began to make his feet slippery with precum, but finally, panting hard with arousal, he shot his load all over the bathroom mirror, and all over his new feet!
As he came down from his high, observing his—now sticky—new feet, he couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d never have thought that feet—let alone his own feet—would get him off so quickly. He headed for the sink and carefully tried to grip the faucet enough to turn it on, his toes slipping repeatedly before he managed it, and rinsed off his big new feet. They took up practically the whole sink by themselves! Once done, he reached for a towel and tried to pick it up by scrunching it between his toes. It fell off the rack to the floor almost immediately.
By now, Brandon was getting used to these fumbles, so he just laughed as he bent down to pick up the towel by grabbing it between both feet, and rubbing his feet around to dry them. He tried to rehang the towel, and at least got it on the rod, if not completely straight. He then tucked his toes into the waistband of his slightly sticky boxers, and pushed the boxers down until they pooled around his other feet, then stepped out of them, one foot at a time.
Finally, he was naked! He clapped his feet together, laughing at the soft paff they made. Now, to take a shower!
He stepped inside the stall, carefully hooking his toes into the handle of the shower door to close it behind him, and used a big toe to start the water flowing, testing it with that same foot to make sure it was warm enough before standing fully under the rushing water. Without thinking, he lifted the huge, soft soles to his face to rub the water in, and almost staggered backwards when the heavy feet landed on his cheeks—he still wasn’t used to the added weight, which could get a bit of extra momentum behind them, meaning he’d almost kicked himself in the face! Once again, however, he just couldn’t help laughing about the whole thing, and—more carefully this time—he lifted the soles again.
This time as he massaged his face with them, he felt how nice his new feet were. Soft and smooth, the curve of the arches, the soft teasing touches of the toes, the heavy round heels. He found himself just standing under the spray, new feet covering his face, enjoying the feeling of them pressed against his forehead, cheeks, and lips. Without even thinking about it, he started to kiss them.
It felt good. It was strange, he’d never considered kissing his palms before, when he still had hands. Come to think of it, he hadn’t put much thought into kissing anyone’s feet before—except maybe Ethan’s. But as he stood there, feeling himself get aroused again just from kissing his new feet, he wondered how he’d never paid much attention to feet before. After a few more indulgent kisses, he started running his toes through his wet hair, giggling slightly as his hair tickled his sensitive soles.
He reached for the bottle of shampoo… and immediately batted it to the floor of the shower with his heavy foot. He laughed at himself again, bending over to pick up the bottle between both soles, but then stood there, confounded. He had the bottle, but the cap was on—where was he going to squeeze out the shampoo? He laughed at himself again as he stood there, holding the shampoo, unable to do anything with it. Finally he put the bottle back down, fiddled with the cap with his toes until it opened, and then carefully lifted up the bottle between both feet until it was over his head, and gently squeezed.
Unfortunately, Brandon had not yet learned “gentle” with his new feet, and ended up squeezing out a good portion of the bottle, mostly into his face. He let out a laughing whoop and dropped the bottle, spilling more shampoo, as he brought his feet to his eyes to try to wipe them clean.
But before he could poke an eye out with a big toe, he stopped and thought for a second, using his heels instead to wipe the excess shampoo from his eyes, aided by holding his face under the shower. Once he was clear enough to open his eyes again without them stinging, he started to lather the shampoo into his hair with his feet, and could hardly stop himself from moaning-the combination of the water, his soft, wet hair, and the foam, felt so good against his soles. He massaged his scalp with his new feet, probably for longer than he needed to, half moaning and half giggling when his soles were tickled by his hair.
Eventually Brandon ended his scalp massage, realizing that if he didn’t, his shower might never end. He reached for the bar of soap, and ended up batting it to the floor of the shower like the shampoo, sending it bouncing and skidding around. He laughed and bent over to pick it up, and had quite a time of it, trying to grasp the slippery soap between his smooth, slippery soles. Eventually he got the soap back where it belonged, and started to massage his two very soapy feet over the rest of his body.
Once again, Brandon found himself involuntarily moaning. Not only did it feel great to feel his body through the big, smooth soles of his bare feet, but it felt amazing to feel those big feet roaming over his body, the soft, wet soles gliding across his bare skin and over the contours of his body. Almost without realizing it, the soapy feet found themselves wrapped around his cock again, which was getting achingly hard once more.
He fumbled even more this time, as both his dick and his feet were soapy and wet, but it didn’t matter, he’d just immediately grip his dick again between his soles or toes, and keep pumping. Especially the feeling of his soft toes thrumming over his cockhead was driving him wild. Soon he was panting again, about to cum from his self-footjob.
Just before he climaxed, he lifted his left foot and pressed it to his lips, kissing the ball deeply, sending him over the edge. He groaned into his sole, keeping his lips pressed there as he came, practically making out with his foot. Finally, as the shower washed away the evidence of his orgasm, he let the foot drop to his side, gasping. He had one thought on his mind…
…maybe having feet for hands isn’t going to be so bad!
Brandon looked down at the feet on his wrists, smiling at them. They really did look natural, hanging there at the ends of his arms. He almost had trouble remembering what he’d looked like with hands, even after less than an hour with his new feet. He fumbled with the shower faucet, and managed to get a blast of cold, laughing at himself, before finally getting the water off and stepping out of the shower, turning to the mirror and admiring his new feet, trying gestures, pointing, waving, calling someone over by curling his toes.
He chuckled again. He could get used to this. He suddenly realized he’d have to get used to this, since it was permanent. It was a little sobering to think about, but he pushed that out of his mind as he reached for the towel—once again knocking it to the floor. Brandon gave a short laugh as he reached down yet again to scoop it up between both feet, lifting it to his face, pressing the towel against his cheeks with his feet.
He had to remind himself not to get distracted by his feet near his face, and continued to dry off the rest of his body. It was a clumsy, uneven process, and he dropped the towel several times, but eventually he was able to wipe the towel all around his body using his feet, laughing as he finished by drying his feet, with his feet! He got the towel back on the rod, somewhat askew, snagged his boxers and T-shirt on the big toes of his new feet, and headed back to his bedroom.
He tossed the clothes he’d slept in into the laundry hamper, and fumbled with the handle of his wardrobe as he tried to grip it with his toes, eventually finding purchase by grasping it between both feet. He pulled out a new set of boxers and sought about stepping into them—but he had such a poor grip on them with his toes that they kept slipping from between them, pooling back down at his original feet. He laughed every time—when he reached down to try again, he was treated to the sight of his four feet together, and they were all so identical that if he couldn’t feel them, he’d have had difficulty telling which ones were on his legs and which ones were on his wrists!
He wiggled all twenty toes and stayed there a while, admiring them. He’d never really thought about his feet much before, but looking at them—all four of them!—now, he realized he had pretty nice ones. He felt really happy about that, and really lucky to have four! He got a better grip on the waistband of his boxers, clenching the waistband between his big toes and the rest of his toes, and carefully pulled them up his legs. His cock almost got in the way again, but he managed to get the boxers all the way up and snapped the waistband in place as he release the grip with his toes, trapping his cock in the waistband against his lower abdomen.
Wincing a little, he poked his cock into his boxers with a big toe. He’d used these big feet to jerk off twice already, in the space of less than an hour, he didn’t need the distraction again. Brandon put a toe to his chin in thought as he considered what top to wear—he’d need something with sleeves that would let his new feet through, after all, so his long-sleeved shirts were out. He realized he’d probably have to get rid of them entirely, and stock up on some new clothes that were more foot friendly.
Looking through his closet, he found several button-up shirts that he immediately pushed aside with his foot. Just the thought of wrestling with that many buttons with his new feet was overwhelming. Eventually he found a nice T-shirt, and struggled into it, getting his feet through the arm holes, then pushing the shirt up his arms with his feet, and then squirming his head through, using his arms to push the shirt down around his head, and finally smoothing the shirt down his torso with his feet.
Using the same tactics he’d used with his underwear, he managed to struggle into a pair of pants too. He felt oddly proud of himself—he’d managed to get dressed all by himself, with feet for hands! As he stood in front of the mirror, feet on his hips, admiring his handiwork—or, should that be footwork now?—he heard his stomach grumble, and pressed a sole against it. So, breakfast was next. But what was he going to have that he could manage with his feet?
He headed to the kitchen, barefoot, and looked around at what was there. There were eggs in the refrigerator, but those were tricky enough to break properly with hands, much less his new, unaccustomed feet. Deciding to keep it simple, he very carefully lifted a bowl out of the cabinet with both feet and put it on the counter. He repeated the process with a box of cereal, putting it beside the bowl. Finally, he opened the refrigerator again and pulled out the milk, carefully carrying it to the counter between both feet. A bowl of cereal suddenly seemed very involved. He grabbed the cap on the milk with the toes of one foot and started to try to get it open.
Unable to get a firm grip, he ended up just turning the whole bottle as he tried to twist the cap. Chuckling, he pondered how to resolve this issue. He tried lifting the bottle up and holding it against his chest with one foot, so he could try and twist the cap with the other without the bottle moving. It took a while, and made his chest a little cold, but he finally managed it—however, the cap gave suddenly, and splashed some milk onto his toes. Thankfully, he managed to avoid getting any on his T-shirt as he set the now open container on the counter.
There wasn’t much milk on his toes, so he just brought that foot to his mouth and licked it off. It was a pleasant feeling, his tongue flicking over the smooth round ends of his toes, and he started sucking on each toe, telling himself it was just to get them clean, but really, he was enjoying the feeling of sucking his toes. His cock stirring in his pants, though, reminded him that he probably shouldn’t get too distracted again, at least not yet. He took his toes out of his mouth and went back to the bowl. It took some struggle with his toes to get the cereal box open, and to get the bag inside uncurled, but eventually he managed both and lifted the box of cereal between both feet. It was a bit awkward, holding the box a bit sideways, shaking it, trying to pour cereal into the bowl, and he got more than a little on the counter, but eventually there was enough in the bowl, and he put the box back down, turning his attention to the open milk bottle.
He carefully placed both soles around the cold bottle, holding it between his arches, and awkwardly tipped it over the bowl, at first sending a big splash he wasn’t intending to make, and getting a little on the counter. He adjusted, and poured a steady stream until the bowl was full, quickly righting the bottle. He reached for the cap, scrabbling at it with his toes for a few seconds before he got it. As he struggled to screw it back on, he hoped that his roommate Mark wouldn’t mind Brandon’s feet going all over their food from now on. It took a full minute for him to get the lid halfway on, which is where he decided to stop—after all, his cereal would get soggy if he left it too long.
Brandon opened the fridge and carefully grabbed the cold milk bottle between the arches of his feet, carrying it to the fridge and placing it on the shelf. He closed the fridge, and then turned to work open the cutlery drawer and then put his foot in, trying to grab a spoon, laughing at himself as his foot just sat there atop the spoons, knives, and forks. He lifted his foot again, and, using both feet, tried to carefully grab a spoon between two big toes. He dropped it a couple of times, but eventually managed to lift it out of the cutlery drawer and onto the counter. He looked at the spoon, wondering how he was going to use it.
He set it onto the counter and tried to pick it up between the big and second toes of his right foot, but they repeatedly slid over the utensil, failing to gain any purchase. He picked it up again with both feet, and got an idea, placing the spoon in his mouth. Then, he wedged the handle of the spoon between his toes as he planned, and successfully pulled it from his mouth. He just about had a strong enough grip on the spoon to attempt eating with it, but it was going to be tricky getting the movements and the angles right. Still, he was determined to try.
Staying in the kitchen, and leaving the bowl on the counter, he carefully brought the spoon down to the cereal. His first attempt flipped some wet cereal out of the bowl onto the counter, but eventually he managed to scoop up a spoonful and bring it near his mouth, only to drop it on the counter with a splat before he could get it in his mouth. Brandon laughed and sighed, and tried again, this time bending down much lower over the bowl so there was less distance to travel, and anything he dropped would fall back in the bowl. It was a bit messy, and he got some milk and cereal on his chin, but he was able to get some into his mouth, and down to his grateful stomach.
It took him a while to finish the bowl, and he felt a deep wave of satisfaction flow over him once he had. He’d managed it! He wiped his lips on the back of a foot, and grabbed the bowl between his feet, dumping it into the sink. No way was he going to attempt washing up just yet. He did, however, scrunch some kitchen roll between his toes and mop up the counter. Next, he walked barefoot back into the bathroom. Time to figure out how he was going to brush his teeth.
He was able to retrieve his toothbrush by grabbing it between two big toes and placing it on the counter by the sink, with much less struggling than the spoon had taken. He was getting better at this! Then he retrieved the toothpaste the same way, putting it on the counter. Holding it down with one foot, he tried to twist the cap with the toes of the other.
With the pressure of one foot keeping the tube down, he was able to twist the cap off with minimal effort. However, that same pressure caused a ribbon of toothpaste to spurt out almost immediately as soon as the cap was clear. Giggling, he bunched some toilet paper between his toes and cleaned up the toothpaste that had fallen to the floor. This did give him a good idea of how to get the paste on the toothbrush, though. He kept the toothpaste there at the edge of the counter as he grabbed the brush between his toes again, getting it in front of the tube’s opening, and pressing down on the tube once more with a foot.
He overshot the pressure needed a little bit, and got extra toothpaste piled on the end of the toothbrush, but he smiled as he lifted the brush to his teeth and started brushing. It was a bit awkward holding it with his toes, and several times he lost his grip and had to hold the toothbrush with his mouth while he figured out how to grip it again with his foot to get the right angle. But he made steady progress, and eventually got his teeth clean. He dropped the toothbrush into the sink, and turned on the faucet with the toes of one foot, washing off the excess toothpaste from the brush, and from his toes where some had smeared.
At last, he returned the toothbrush and toothpaste, and dried his big feet—ironically enough—using the hand towel. Well, he’d proven to himself he could do all these thing with feet instead of hands. And by the end, he was really improving! Plus, he realized he actually enjoyed using his clumsy feet to try and accomplish these tasks. Having copies of his big, bare feet on his wrists was really giving him a new appreciation for his feet. He headed for the living room and sat on the sofa, wondering how he was going to spend his time until he had to go out to meet Ethan.
He stretched his legs out and looked at his bare feet. They really did look nice… how had he never noticed before? However, they were a bit far away. He lifted up his new feet and looked at them, holding them, soles facing away, just like his original feet were placed. But his new feet were much closer, giving him a much better view of their shape, their size, and the shapes of all his toes.
He lost track of how long he sat there like that, just admiring his wrist-mounted feet, occasionally wiggling his toes or turning his feet to look over his soles. Eventually, though, he was interrupted. Brandon jumped in his seat as he heard the door open, and Mark walked in.
“Hey, buddy, I’m back a little early, hope you—” Mark began, closing the door behind him. But he stopped in his tracks, mouth agape, when he saw Brandon on the sofa, holding two big feet aloft on his wrists.
Brandon dropped his new feet to his lap, nervous. This was the first time anyone else had seen his new feet. “Oh, um, hi, Mark! How was your trip?”
“My trip?” Mark asked, staring at the big, bare feet. “Uh… Brandon… what happened to you? You… you’ve got feet for hands!”
Brandon held up his new feet, soles up and shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah.”
Mark cautiously sat down next to him on the sofa. “And that fact… doesn’t alarm you? How did this happen?” Without asking he grabbed one of the new feet, wanting to see if it was real.
Brandon let Mark take his foot. It felt nice to have someone else hold it. He scrunched and flexed his toes to show Mark that his foot was real.
“It’s fine, really. I mean, they take some getting used to, but I’m figuring it out.” Brandon hesitated to tell Mark about the genie and the wish.
“I’ll bet,” Mark said, fascinated by the foot in his hands. “Are you stuck like this?” he asked, feeling Brandon’s wrist, and the swell as it led into his foot.
“Uh, yeah, I think.” Brandon was enjoying Mark’s hands on his foot, and scrunched his toes involuntarily as Mark’s fingers traced the sensitive arch.
“Woah… well, Brandon, I know this’ll probably make things real difficult for you from now on… but you can always count on me if you need a hand,” Mark said. Then his eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh, wow, was that an insensitive thing to say to someone with feet for hands?”
Brandon laughed, and patted Mark on the shoulder with the foot he’d just let go of. “No, it’s fine, that was funny. And I really appreciate the help! You would have laughed if you’d seen me trying to eat my cereal this morning.”
Relieved, Mark laughed too. “Well, I’m glad you’re ok with it, buddy. So… my trip…”
They caught up for an hour or so, Mark chatting away to him as normal, and Brandon’s new feet barely came up at all. It was oddly comforting—it made the new feet feel almost normal. When they were brought up again, it was when Mark offered him a lift for later on to go see Ethan.
“You know—since I don’t know how confident you’d be driving with those new feet of yours,” he finished.
“Oh, thanks! I think I’ll be alright, though. I’d be more worried if I had a manual transmission!” Brandon mimicked trying to steer with one foot while shifting with the other.
Mark laughed at this display. “I don’t think I asked—how do they feel? I mean, they’re so much bigger than your hands were. Plus your toes are way shorter than your fingers—do they feel really weird and out of place, there at the ends of your arms?”
Brandon held his new feet out in front of him, soles up, and flexed and scrunched the toes. “They do feel a bit heavy, and yeah I can’t really do things with my toes that I could do with fingers. But they feel pretty natural, I guess? I mean, they’re always reminding me they’re there because they’re heavy and clumsy and it’s a struggle to pick things up or hold things with them, but they don’t feel weird. They just feel like… feet. On my wrists.” Brandon turned his feet over and flexed them up and down.
Mark nodded. “I guess that makes sense. I mean, they are feet.” He stood up and yawned. “Ugh, it’s been a long trip for me, I think I’m gonna go take a shower and then have a nap. You gonna be okay?” he asked.
Brandon put his foot on Mark’s shoulder again. “Yep, I’ll be fine, thanks! Go rest up! Oh, and apologies in advance if I left any toothpaste on the floor in the bathroom,” Brandon added, grinning.
Mark patted the foot on his shoulder before heading into the bathroom, and Brandon glanced at the clock. He had a couple of hours to kill before he had to meet Ethan—he wanted to get in some practice with his new feet before then. After all, he wanted to impress Ethan with how well he could use them, and he was clearly far from that point at the moment. He pondered what activities he could do that would be best for practicing using his toes.
Brandon placed one foot on his thigh and realized his phone wasn’t in his pocket. He should probably check if Ethan had sent any messages, and that would be good practice for learning how to use his phone with his new feet! He stood up and headed back to his bedroom where he’d left his phone.
He found it on his bedside table, and picked it up between both feet. However, as with most things he picked up, this then meant he had no feet free to actually use the phone. For the moment, he set it back down, and jabbed at the home button with a big toe, bringing up the lock screen. He was thankful he hadn’t set up a fingerprint lock! He just needed to put in his four digit passcode, but this turned out to be easier said than done—his big toes were, appropriately enough, pretty big, and even as he tried to be precise with them, he kept accidentally pressing multiple numbers at once on the phone’s small screen. He sighed, thinking that when he managed to unlock it, it might be worth setting up a fingerprint lock now—even if he would actually be using a toeprint.
Finally, with very careful, gentle toe presses, he managed to unlock the phone. There were no new messages, but he knew he might need to text Ethan back later, so practice would be good. With the phone still resting on the bedside table, Brandon carefully navigated through the menus to try to set up a toeprint unlock. There were a lot of misfires. He’d enter the wrong menu, and then enter another wrong menu when he failed to tap the button to back out. But knowing he’d have to get used to this, he kept at it, learning to be very delicate and precise with his big toe. Or at least as delicate and precise as a foot could ever be, which wasn’t all that much.
Eventually he navigated to the fingerprint lock, and set up his phone to unlock with his toe print. While fumbling through to that menu, he’d also found an option to make most of the buttons on the screen bigger, which helped a lot with his clumsy toe presses. With a real feeling of achievement and satisfaction, he locked the phone (having to carefully hold both sides of the phone with the toes of each foot to press the side lock button), and then unlocked it with his toe print! He grinned. His feet might be big, clumsy, and awkward, but perseverance paid off.
He thought it’d be useful to try a practice text. He opened a new text addressed to Mark, figuring he wouldn’t mind, and the keyboard appeared on the screen, now with larger keys for his bigger digits. He started carefully typing, ‘Hi Mark, this is just a test text, to practice using my toes.’ Of course, on the first run, it came out as, ‘hoi m,ark , ythis js ju7st s rtedst texzt to porsacticve usiinmg my toews.’
Brandon had to laugh at the results. But then when he tried to delete it, he ended up sending it instead! Almost immediately, Mark replied, “Are you SURE you don’t need me to drive you?”
“Yes, I’m sure!” Brandon called back, cupping a foot to his mouth. He shook his head and laughed at his clumsy new appendages, and tried to type out the message again—this time trying to use his pinky toes, figuring that since they were smaller, there was less chance of him mistyping so much.
While they were smaller and didn’t tend to mash multiple buttons at once, he found them a bit harder to aim with, and it was harder to see the screen while trying to type with them. “yensim sajre” read his effort. He laughed again and did manage to successfully delete it. He wondered if he should maybe just switch to the Notes app and try typing there, when suddenly a notification from Ethan popped up.
“Hey! Just letting you know I may be a few minutes late to the cafe later on, but I’ll definitely be there!”
His heart fluttered a little just seeing Ethan’s name. But Ethan was probably expecting a reply, and he didn’t want to goof it up with his clumsy toes—he’d have to be very careful. He set about typing ‘OK, see you later!’—it seemed like a short enough message. It started off well enough, but as he went on he started to panic, thinking that he’d need to respond quickly or Ethan might think something was up. It was an illogical thought—of course Ethan couldn’t know anything was wrong just from this—but he thought it anyway. He’d typed ‘ok, see yiou larter!’ and was going to correct his spelling mistakes, when his second toe accidentally brushed over the send button, pressing it.
“Oh, no!” said Brandon, burying his face in his soles. What would Ethan think? He was trying to impress this guy, not look ridiculous. As he sat there feeling sorry for himself, he couldn’t help but recognize how nice his big, soft, warm feet felt on his face. He stopped worrying about Ethan’s response, and just enjoyed the comforting feeling of his arches cupping his cheeks, his heels resting on his chin, and his toes brushing his forehead. He smiled and kissed his soles, then moved his feet down to kiss his toes. As he was doing this, the reasonable thought entered his brain that people typoed on phones all the time, and that Ethan would probably—probably!—think nothing of it. Brandon would just be typoing more—a lot more—than average from now on, but that was okay. Brandon laughed and kissed his toes, thinking how nice they were, even if they were typo-generating machines.
As he thought about how much he liked his new feet, he naturally couldn’t help but wonder what Ethan would think of them. A thought struck him—what if the Genie had granted his wish? Could it be that Ethan was into guys with feet for hands? If that was the case… well, Brandon just knew that he had to be good at using them to impress him. He also mused on the fact that his hands were the only thing about him that had changed—which meant that, if his wish had been granted… then his hands were the only thing Ethan would have changed about him…
Brandon pulled his feet from his lips and pressed them together, concentrating. Okay, so, typing wasn’t a strong point for feet. Obviously. They were feet. But what could Brandon get good at with his feet in the space of—he glanced at the time on his phone—one hour? He brought the big toes of his pressed-together feet to his lips as he thought.
Well, they were meeting at a café… so maybe some practice with a knife and fork would be useful? He grinned into his toes. At least he had a bit of a head start on that, what with his efforts at using a spoon earlier. He started to head back to the kitchen, but stopped to pick up his phone, gripping it between both sets of toes and carefully sliding it into his pocket. Once it was in there, he wondered how he would get it out again… his feet were definitely too big to fit in there.
He felt for the edges of his phone through his pocket with his toes, and tried to force the phone back upwards by pushing through the fabric. He eventually manoeuvred the phone so that the top just started peeking out of his pocket, but then he moved his foot, lost the grip on the phone with his toes, and it slid right back down into his pocket. Brandon laughed once again at just how clumsy he was with his feet. At least the principle was proven? He could work on getting the phone all the way out later. Maybe it would be easier while sitting down. For now, he headed back to the kitchen to get his feet on some cutlery.
He got the cutlery drawer open again, and started scrabbling over the utensils once more, chuckling as he felt them slip between his toes. He was just about to wedge the handle of a fork between his toes when he heard a laugh behind him, and he dropped it. Mark was standing at the doorway, towel around his waist, fresh from the shower. “I hope you washed those big feet of yours, man!” he said, chuckling.
“I did, they’re clean!” said Brandon, laughing as well. “Besides, it’s not like I’m walking around on them.”
“Hmm, I bet you’d be really good at handstands now, though,” said Mark. “I mean… footstands? You know what I mean. Oh, and push-ups, too.”
Brandon looked over his soles, raising an eyebrow. Hmm…maybe that would be a way to impress Ethan! “Well, why don’t I test that?” he said, grinning, leaning over and pressing his bare soles against the cold kitchen tiles. With relative ease, he kicked his legs up and over his head, and he found his new feet faithfully steadying him, making it easy to balance. He did have to strain a little to stay like that—after all, his arms weren’t quite as strong as his legs—but he was even able to ‘walk’ around like that, something he’d never been able to do before! He stepped on over to his roommate, brushing his toes against Mark’s, and extended a leg. “How do you do?” He said, laughing, and Mark laughed in return, reaching out to shake his lower foot.
Mark grabbed Brandon’s foot with both hands and shook it, laughing, unconsciously brushing his toes back against Brandon’s wrist-mounted feet. “You’re such a goof!” Mark watched and laughed as Brandon ‘walked’ around a bit more on his arms, before the blood started to rush to his head too much, and he tried to get upright, but was a bit dizzy, and started to fall. Fortunately, Mark caught him, and helped him stand up, holding on to his two new feet until he was steady on his other feet. “Okay, now will you wash these feet before going back in the cutlery drawer?” Mark teased Brandon, squeezing his feet.
Brandon blushed at having his new feet touched so much—he really liked that feeling. He rubbed the back of his neck with a foot bashfully. “Heh, sure thing!” He walked over to the sink and awkwardly twisted the faucet, sending a blast of water out, before hurriedly adjusting it with his toes to get a less torrential output. He rubbed his soles together under the water, enjoying the feeling, before turning the faucet off and bunching a dishcloth up between his feet, rubbing them together between it to dry them. He turned back to Mark, who had just pulled a can of soda out of the fridge. “Want one?” Mark offered, shaking the can a little at him.
“Sure, thanks,” said Brandon, thoughtlessly reaching out just one foot, and batting the can of soda from Mark’s hand. Mark just laughed, and went to pick it up. “Sorry!” said Brandon, laughing as well. “Still getting used to this.”
“I can tell,” said Mark, grinning. “Okay, both feet now.” Mark held out the can for Brandon again. Brandon gratefully grabbed it between the arches of his feet. Mark grabbed his own can and pulled the tab to open it. Brandon stared blankly down at his feet, the can wedged between them…how was he going to get it open? He tried pressing the can against his chest with one foot, holding it firmly there, and attempted to get the big toe of his other foot under the tab.
Mark, sipping his own soda, watched Brandon struggle with the can. Brandon just couldn’t seem to get his toes under the tab, and the more he tried, the more the can shifted out of the grip of his other foot. He ended up dropping the can on the floor again, twice, picking it up between both feet, lodging it against his chest, and trying again.
“You… want some help there, Brandon?” Mark asked. Brandon let out a half laugh, half sigh, and extended his arms, the can wedged between his feet, passing it to Mark, who took it and opened it with ease. “Thanks,” Brandon said meekly, raising the can between his feet to his lips.
“Don’t worry about it, man!” Mark replied cheerfully.
Brandon sighed again.
“What’s wrong?” Mark asked.
“It’s just… I want to be good at using these feet. Otherwise, how am I gonna impress—uh… how am I gonna cope, y’know? With feet for hands… if I can’t even open a soda can!” He finished, laughing at his own clumsiness.
Mark clasped his hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, man! I think you’re doing pretty well for your first day with all feet! And really, truly, if you ever need any help, opening a soda can, whatever, I’m happy to!”
Brandon smiled back at Mark. He wanted to pat Mark’s hand with his foot, but that would have meant dropping his soda. “Thanks, Mark. Cheers!” He held out his soda between his feet against Mark’s. Mark clinked his can against Brandon’s and they both laughed.
The two chatted for a bit before Mark yawned, reminding him that he promised himself a nap. “I’ll have my phone near me… if you can write a legible text!” he joked. “Have a great time with Ethan!” And with that, he retreated to his room.
Brandon downed the last of his soda, crushing the empty can between his feet and batting it into the recycling bin. Then he remembered what he came in here to do, and opened the cutlery drawer again, trying not to rattle the knives and forks too much with his toes.
He found it wasn’t too hard to pick up a fork or knife between both sets of toes, but it was a little difficult to pick up a single fork or knife. He often picked up two or three. Eventually he managed to fish out a single knife and fork and place them on the counter. He then tried to work out the best way to hold the fork, grabbing it between his big toe and other toes, tines pointing away from his sole. He experimentally brought it to his mouth a few times. The movement was natural enough, but it wasn’t a very stable grip. The fork wobbled a lot, especially when he tried to mimic stabbing a piece of food on his plate, the fork just sort of slid between his toes. Still, it might be enough. Brandon turned to look at the knife, and put his other foot on top of it. How on earth was he going to pick it up while he had a fork in his other foot?
He pressed his foot against it and dragged it to the edge of the counter, so the handle was just hanging off—having it free like that made it easier to grasp it. He managed to pick it up between the big and second toes of his other foot this way, but when he practiced the normal cutting motions with it, he found it very uncoordinated and clumsy. It was weird trying to get a sawing motion going too. About a minute into his practice, he could feel the fork sliding from his toes, and tried to adjust his grip using the heel of his other foot… but in the end he just dropped both utensils.
He let out a frustrated chuckle, and lined up the utensils on the counter again, pushing them around with his toes, first picking up the fork, then manoeuvring the knife to the edge and picking it up, practicing the motions of spearing, cutting, and bringing bites to his mouth. It was extremely awkward and clumsy and it wasn’t clear that any of it would work with real food, but Brandon was determined not to give up, for Ethan. He had to be able to do this well for him.
Finally, as he was retrieving the dropped implements for the fifth time, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He glanced up at the clock. It was time for him to leave, or he’d be late!
He hurriedly dropped the utensils back in the drawer, haphazardly kicking it shut with a wrist-mounted foot, and headed for the door. He’d left his keys in the pocket of his jacket hanging next to it. It was pretty warm out, so he decided to forgo the jacket, but he still needed those keys. He plunged a foot into the pocket—which was thankfully a little wider than the ones on his pants, even if he was sure he could never fit a whole foot in there—and fished around with his toes, eventually managing to grab them between his toes and the ball of his foot.
The moment the keys were out though, they slipped from his grip and fell to the floor. It took some scrabbling with his toes on the floor, but he was eventually able to pick them up again, and manoeuvre them to his pocket. He wasn’t able to fully get them inside, but instead got one key lodged in the pocket so that they hung on the edge. He decided that was probably just as well because fishing them out of his pants pocket would be involved. He turned to open the door, pushing one foot against the knob, trying to turn it, but it was stiff and wouldn’t move. He had to grasp the knob between both feet and twist awkwardly until he could pull the door open.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he was about to step outside when he realized he’d forgotten to put on shoes! The thought of trying to get shoes on his feet, using his new feet, and then tying laces with his new feet, was overwhelming. Probably doable… eventually… but it would make him very late.
He raced back to his room, keys jingling half in his pocket, new feet swinging and accidentally knocking into the walls. He opened the closet and found his flip-flops sitting on a low shelf. He grabbed them with his new feet, which meant his new feet slid right into them. He stopped his rushing for a moment, snickering at how perfectly they fit his new feet, a reminder of how they were exact copies of his other feet. He put his new flip-flop clad feet down on the floor next to his other feet, taking another moment to wiggle his toes and appreciate all four of his feet. Then he slipped his new feet out of the flip-flops, stood up, slipped his other feet into the flops, and raced back to the front door, still standing halfway open.
He walked through and reached for the handle to close it behind him, but merely kicked the door further open with his toes. He sighed with frustration and grabbed the handle with both feet, carefully turning it as he closed it. He was about to walk to his car when he had a thought—he should probably lock the door, since Mark would be asleep. He dreaded trying, but knew he was going to have to learn how to do it sooner or later. Besides, he thought, as he fumbled for his keys, it’d be good practice for starting his car. He managed to wedge the door key between his toes, but when he tried to push it into the lock, the key just slipped through his toes. He tried and tried for a solid minute, but didn’t want to risk being late… eh, Mark could take care of himself.
He headed over to his car at last when he realized… he was outside, in public, with feet for hands. And… he didn’t really mind.
He was far more worried about getting into his car, and not being late. He quickly headed to his car, and then, fumbling with the keys between his feet again, picked out his car key and pushed it into the lock. Thankfully, it slid in easily. It was a little awkward to turn, but it did and the door lock gave as satisfying pop as it responded. Pulling the keys back out of the lock, he carefully gripped them into the toes of one foot while he slipped the toes of the other foot under the door handle, and popped the car door open.
Just as he was doing this, another guy walked by, glancing in his direction, and did the most dramatic double-take Brandon had ever seen. He had to hold back laughing out loud. The guy stared at him, continuing to walk, and running right into a signpost at the edge of the sidewalk.
“You okay?” Brandon called, cupping the foot that he’d just opened the door with to the side of his mouth.
“I…yeah, I just…” The guy stammered, blushing. “Uh… nice feet!” he said, and hurried off, blushing furiously.
What a strange guy, Brandon thought, getting into the car.
He spent a moment carefully lining up the car key with the ignition, making sure it was aligned before pushing it in, and manage to start the car without issue. Okay! Off to a good start! Maybe driving wouldn’t be all that difficult with feet for hands.
It was an easy pull with his foot to shift the car into reverse, and then, with both of his new feet on the steering wheel, he carefully backed out of his parking space. It was a bit difficult to make a tight turn with his feet, as the wheel offered more resistance against the light grip of the sole of his feet, but he took it slow, got out of the space, and headed out of the parking lot.
Regular steering was just fine. His feet rested comfortably on the steering wheel, and with just a little pressure, his soles and arches had enough grip on the wheel to steer the car with little effort.
Brandon grinned to himself as he drove down the road. At last, something he was pretty good at doing with his new feet!
It was a short, 10-minute drive to the cafe where he was supposed to meet up with Ethan, and in spite of his nervousness, he couldn’t help but tap his toes against the steering wheel happily as he drove. It was oddly nice to see his big feet up there on the wheel. It was oddly nice to see them anywhere, come to think of it, especially since they were closer to him. When he got stuck at a red light, he nonchalantly leaned his elbow on the car door and rested his face on the sole of his foot, grinning at the feeling of his soft sole warming his face. But before long, he was pulling into a parking spot close to the cafe.
It took some fumbling again with the keys to get the car off, the keys out of the ignition, the key into the door lock, and to finally lock the car door, but he managed to do it only dropping the keys twice. Pulling open his pocket with one big toe, he dropped the keys inside, and they fell all the way in this time. That was okay, getting them out would be a problem for later. He headed up to the cafe door, earning stares from a couple of guys passing as he slipped the toes of one foot around the handle of the door and pulled it open. Inside, he looked around, but didn’t see Ethan yet. Ethan said he’d be a little late, so that was no surprise. Brandon was just glad his new feet hadn’t made him even more late!
The host, a young guy with a wide smile, saw Brandon standing by the door, and came over to him.
“Hello! How many in your party?” he asked.
Brandon, smiling back, and not thinking, held up one foot, trying to hold up two toes. “Table for two,” he said, noticing his foot, and the failed gesture, blushing, and immediately putting it back down. “Uh, table for two.”
The host’s eyes went wide when he noticed Brandon’s new feet, but he stayed professional. “Sure!” he said, grabbing two menus from the stand by the door. “Follow me!” He quickly turned to lead Brandon back to a table.
“Here you are!” he said, pulling a chair out for Brandon. “Now, ordinarily, we ask our customers to please keep their feet off the table… but I feel that we should make an exception for you!” he joked, holding a menu out to Brandon as he sat down. Brandon chuckled in response, carefully accepting the open menu and gripping the sides with his toes.
“I should hope so—otherwise, just how am I gonna eat?” Brandon shot back, grinning. The host laughed as he set the other menu in front of the empty chair.
“Can I get you something to drink? With a straw, perhaps?” he asked, pulling a notepad and pencil out.
Brandon had just had a soda, and it was a little cool out for his T-shirt and flip-flops, so he was feeling like something warm. “Actually, I’d really like a coffee.”
“Sure! I’ll get a nice big mug for you,” the host winked at Brandon. “My name’s Tyler, by the way. Anything you need just let me know.” Tyler left Brandon to peruse the menu, and went off to get his coffee.
While Brandon pondered what he was going to order—heavily taking into consideration what he thought would be easiest to eat with his big, clumsy feet—he could tell he was getting a few stares, but he shrugged them off. While he read, he realized his toes were slipping on the pages of the menu, so he propped it up on the table to give his toes a rest.
It was at this moment Ethan arrived. “Brandon! So sorry I’m late, but I—” Ethan started, but he stopped when Brandon stood up to greet him, his eyes widening, a blush creeping over his face.
“Brandon, you… your… you’ve got…” Ethan stammered.
Brandon knew he had to play it cool. He smiled at Ethan. “Yeah, I’ve got feet for hands.” To emphasize that it wasn’t a big deal, he immediately went on, “I got us a table.”
He gestured with one foot, and accidentally batted the menu he’d propped up on the table, knocking it over and onto the floor. Blushing hard, he immediately knelt down to try to pick it back up, but couldn’t seem to get a good grip with his toes, just sort of pushing it around on the floor in front of Ethan.
As he fumbled around on the floor with his new feet, Ethan knelt down next to him and reached for the menu too—and Brandon happened to put a foot right in the spot he was going for. Ethan’s hand clasped around the big foot, and for a moment both of them blushed even harder, until Ethan withdrew and picked up the menu.
“Th–that’s quite a change, Brandon,” He said weakly, sitting down. “What inspired you to get wristfeet?”
Brandon sat down as well, placing his feet—his wristfeet, that was a word? It made sense though, and it sounded… right—placing his wristfeet soles down on the edge of the table as Ethan put down Brandon’s menu in front of him. Brandon was a bit stunned. Of all the questions he expected from Ethan, this wasn’t one of them. “What happened to you?” or “Are you okay?” The why of Brandon’s new feet—his wristfeet—he was not sure how to answer. He found himself awkwardly scratching the back of his neck with the toes of one wristfoot. “I… uh… I thought you might like them,” he said, blushing again, wondering if that was the right thing to say.
Ethan’s face was practically crimson. “You… did?” he asked. How did he know I love wristfeet?! he thought.
Brandon’s face practically matched Ethan’s in colour. Brandon wanted to hide behind his wristfeet, but kept them on the table for now.
“Uh…yeah…so, um…do you? Like them, I mean?” Brandon asked. At this point, Tyler arrived with Brandon’s coffee, setting it down next to him.
“Oh, hi!” he said, giving a quick wave to Ethan, oblivious to whatever it was he’d just walked in on. “I missed you coming in—I’m Tyler, I’ll be serving you today. Can I get you anything?”
Ethan, still crimson, turned to Tyler and stuttered. “I… I’d like a coffee too, please.”
“Sure thing,” Tyler said, with an easy grin, walking off to get Ethan’s coffee.
Brandon, meanwhile, eager for something to do, grasped his mug of coffee between the soles of his wristfeet. It felt warm and comforting, fitting nicely between his arches, and warming up his feet. Looking down at his coffee and his wristfeet, Brandon asked again, “So… do you?”
Of course! Ethan thought, but he refrained from saying that just yet. “They… they really suit you,” Ethan said, unable to tear his eyes away from the handsome wristfeet. “They’re so… big, and smooth… you… you have really good-looking feet Brandon… and they make for gorgeous wristfeet,” he finished, reaching over to rest a hand on top of one of those beautiful, wrist-mounted feet.
Brandon was almost afraid to look up at Ethan, but his heart soared as Ethan called his feet… and his wristfeet… “gorgeous.” And the touch of Ethan’s hand on his coffee-mug-warmed wristfoot was heavenly. He looked up sheepishly at Ethan and grinned. “Thanks. I–I’m glad you like them.”
Ethan smiled as he rubbed the top of Brandon’s wristfoot with his thumb. “They feel good too. Soft, but strong.” He really wanted to hold Brandon’s wristfeet, so he did—bringing his other hand over and gently pulling the warm soles away from the coffee, his thumbs now pressing into Brandon’s arches as he held them.
“…Wow…” was all Ethan could manage.
Brandon was equally overwhelmed. He sat there staring at Ethan’s hands massaging his wristfeet, curling and flexing his toes as Ethan’s thumbs traced back and forth across his soles. It felt so good! Brandon had enjoyed the brief contact when Mark had held or touched one of his wristfeet, but this was a whole new level. Brandon’s lips parted, and a blush rose up his neck, as he started to get hard, just from the touch of Ethan’s hands on his new feet. “That–that feels good.”
“I–it does?” Ethan asked, blushing. “S–so… I should continue?” Ethan was sporting his own hard-on, which had been growing since he first saw the big, soft wristfeet he was now eagerly rubbing. He’d never admitted to Brandon that he’d dreamed of him being this way, and now, here Brandon was, in all his wristfooted glory. At the back of his mind, Ethan couldn’t help thinking, how did he know I wanted him this way? But he wasn’t worried—he was far too aroused for that.
Brandon was starting to breathe heavily, and found it difficult to form words. He just nodded, watching Ethan’s thumbs trace the arches of his big, sensitive feet. At the back of his mind, he was marvelling at how this had worked out. He’d—somewhat unintentionally—given up his hands for feet, and not only was Ethan cool with it, he really liked them! Brandon’s heart was pounding. But right now, that was mostly because of Ethan hands holding his feet and his thumbs still slowly tracing Brandon’s arches as Brandon’s toes flexed and curled.
“Here’s your coffee,” said Tyler, cheerily.
Ethan and Brandon almost jumped as Tyler put down Ethan’s coffee on the table. Ethan quickly but reluctantly let go of Brandon’s wristfeet. Brandon, blushing hard, pulled his wristfeet back and turned them soles down, pinning the menu against the table, pretending to read it.
As he moved his wristfeet, though, his wristfoot heel knocked into his fork, sending it to the floor.
Brandon found, amazingly, that he could blush even harder. He turned and reached down with his wristfoot, trying and failing to pick up the fork with his toes, just making it clatter around on the floor. Tyler was suddenly kneeling beside him smiling. Tyler placed a reassuring hand on Brandon’s wristfoot, and picked up for the fork for him, taking it.
“I’ll get you a clean one.”
Tyler stood up and Brandon brought his wristfoot back to the table and the menu, eyes locked on it, still embarrassed.
“Another few minutes for you guys?” asked Tyler, with an apologetic grin at Ethan.
Ethan smiled at him. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Take your time,” said Tyler, winking again as he turned and left Brandon and Ethan with their coffee and menus.
They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a moment, neither boy looking at the other, until Ethan cleared his throat. “So, uh… how long have you had them? Your wristfeet?” He asked, as casually as he could manage. His gaze kept listing to the feet that were basically ‘standing’ on the menu. As he took a sip of coffee, Brandon unconsciously curled his toes, and Ethan nearly moaned into his cup at how ridiculously cute they looked.
“Er, since… this morning,” Brandon admitted, curling his toes tighter.
His eyes were still trained down on his menu, but he wasn’t really reading it, just sheepishly avoiding Ethan’s gaze. This also meant he was looking at his feet. His wristfeet, as Ethan had called them.
Ethan seemed to know a lot about having feet for hands. Or at least, he knew the word for it, anyway. Which was more than Brandon had known this morning! Did Ethan know other guys with wristfeet? Were there other guys with wristfeet? If so, they probably didn’t keep knocking menus and forks on the floor in front of Ethan, embarrassing him in front of cute waiters.
Brandon sighed to himself and curled his toes against his menu again. He loved his new feet and wouldn’t trade them for anything, but he wished he’d had more than a few hours to learn to use them before showing them off to Ethan, the wristfoot expert!
“Wow… so they’re really brand new, huh?” Ethan mused.
Noticing Brandon’s expression, and unwillingness to meet his gaze, Ethan set down his coffee and reached over, putting a hand on Brandon’s left wristfoot.
“Hey… is everything okay?” he asked, gently rubbing his thumb over the top of Brandon’s foot, trying to reassure him. “Are…are you happy being wristfooted?”
Wristfooted. Brandon was learning all sorts of words! Wristfooted. Brandon was wristfooted now.
He liked that. It made him happy.
Brandon curled the toes of the wristfoot Ethan had put his hand on, flexing his arch against Ethan’s warm, sensitive, pleasurable touch.
“Yes,” Brandon answered, truthfully. “Of course! It’s just… I haven’t… had much practice with them yet, and they’re so clumsy—” Brandon turned his right wristfoot on its side, flexing his toes to emphasize his words, accidentally knocking into the creamer—thankfully not knocking it all the way off the table, but still spilling a little milk on the table and his toes.
Brandon had to laugh at himself, it came out as sort of a relieved chuckle. Brandon finally looked up and met Ethan’s eye with a sheepish grin.
“I was hoping to impress you, not be knocking everything off the table and embarrassing you in public.”
“Embarrassing me?” Ethan asked, a little taken aback. “Brandon… your wristfeet are gonna be clumsy and knock stuff over and fumble a lot. Because they’re feet—that’s what feet do when you try and use them for hand things. You… didn’t learn a lot about wristfeet before you got them, did you?” he asked, smiling incredulously at Brandon.
“Anyway,” he continued, “you couldn’t embarrass me with those sexy wristfeet of yours—” Ethan stopped, blushing deeper red, realizing what he’d just said.
Brandon’s mouth opened slightly, shocked by what he’d just heard. He moved his right wristfoot on top of Ethan’s hand, gently curling his toes against the back of it. “You think they’re sexy?” asked Brandon, smiling.
Ethan felt like his face was going to explode from how much blushing he was doing. “I, uh…” he stammered, grinning weakly. “I… do… I’ve kinda, um, always thought you were sexy, Brandon… your new feet really aren’t fair… they make you kinda irresistible…”
Brandon’s mind reeled.
Brandon’s whole encounter with the genie. He’d asked to be irresistible. It probably hadn’t even been necessary!
I always thought you were sexy.
He’d accidentally sacrificed his hands, and he might not have even had to!
Are you happy being wristfooted?
But he was so glad that he had. Now he was with Ethan, and he had these sexy, clumsy new feet that he was holding Ethan’s hand with.
“I’ve always wanted to be with you, Ethan. And I’m really glad you like my feet—my wristfeet, because I love them too.”
Brandon squeezed Ethan’s hand between his wristfeet. “I love being wristfooted—” Brandon savoured saying the word aloud for the first time “—for you.”
Ethan gasped a little. For me? His heart fluttered. Brandon wanted to be with him, too. He was at a loss for words, so he did the only thing that made sense, the thing he’d wanted to do since he first laid eyes on those amazing wristfeet—and gathered them up in his hands, lifting them by the wrists to his face, forcing Brandon’s toes into a deep kiss. He savoured the feeling—his first time kissing Brandon’s feet, like he’d dreamed of for so long, and they were Brandon’s wristfeet!
Brandon’s lips parted and he curled his toes against Ethan’s lips. Ethan’s hands on his wristfeet felt wonderful, but Ethan’s lips on his toes felt heavenly. Brandon relaxed his arms and sighed with pleasure, just letting Ethan handle and kiss his big, clumsy, sensitive feet.
After what must have been a full minute, during which Ethan slowly and lovingly kissed each of Brandon’s toes, he parted from them shyly, intertwining his fingers with Brandon’s toes and holding his wristfeet, letting their heels rest on the table again.
“Sorry… I had to do that,” Ethan said sheepishly.
“I… I’m glad you did,” Brandon said, flushed and breathing heavily, loving the feeling of Ethan’s fingers intertwined with his toes. “You certainly know how to make wristfeet feel good!” He curled and squeezed his toes around Ethan’s fingers.
“Heh, I just do whatever makes feet feel good—works on wristfeet, since they’re feet too!” Ethan said, giggling. He smiled at Brandon, as once again he started rubbing his wristfeet with his thumbs, while still keeping their toes and fingers locked together. “You really got wristfeet—you gave up your hands for feet—just for me?” he asked.
Brandon was so hard from Ethan’s long kisses on his toes, and now Ethan’s thumbs massaging his smooth sensitive arches again, he couldn’t stop panting slightly. “Y–yes,” he admitted, sheepishly, his chest rising and falling unevenly.
Ethan could see the reaction he was causing, and he liked it. But he remembered himself—they were in public. He would have to continue this with Brandon later, in private. With extreme reluctance, he let go of the beautiful wristfeet, and flipped open his menu, pretending he hadn’t noticed how aroused Brandon had become.
“Well, we should order,” Ethan said, “And, uh, you don’t need to worry about looking clumsy while you’re with me, Brandon. I… like it.”
“Oh…” said Brandon, somewhat comforted but still unsure how to interpret it.
Was Ethan just saying that to make him feel better? Even if so, it did make him feel better! He still wanted to impress Ethan, but maybe now he wouldn’t be so embarrassed by fumbling with his big new feet. Brandon thought about what Ethan had said—they were feet, so of course they were clumsy. Brandon remembered the times he’d compared his new feet with his original feet, and admired how identical they were. Ethan’s words made sense. Brandon’s new feet were on his wrists, but they were feet, big, long, clumsy, and utterly unsuited for tasks designed for hands.
That might have made Brandon feel discouraged, now that he was wristfooted and didn’t have hands anymore, but in fact it was comforting. He had feet instead of hands now and they were going to be clumsy, it was just natural.
Brandon smiled to himself as he put his feet down on the edges of the menu and started reading it for real this time, wondering what he felt like eating. He was hungry, but so giddy it was hard to decide. As he slid one big toe down the menu, reading the options, his heel hit his knife, and while it stayed on the table, it did remind him… more than what he felt hungry for, what was going to be possible to eat with his new feet?
He looked up at Ethan. “Uh, Ethan? You seem to know a lot about wristfeet, is there… is there something on the menu easy to eat with feet?”
Ethan chuckled, and had a look at the options available to them—and a slightly devious thought entered his head. He could just say what the easiest thing to eat was—probably soup, if Brandon held the bowl between his feet and sipped it. But what he wanted to do was say something that it would be fun to watch Brandon eat with those clumsy wristfeet of his. Preferably something that got sauce all over his toes, that’d have to be licked off… he licked his lips as he thought about it.
“Oh, look—barbecue chicken wings!” he said, grinning at Brandon. “No knives or forks to worry about—that should be pretty easy for your feet!”
Brandon smiled with relief. “Oh, yeah! That makes sense. I should be looking for finger—I mean, toe-food!” He lifted up his wristfeet, heels on the edge of the table, and wiggled all his toes, grinning at Ethan.
He tried to envision eating the chicken wings with them. He’d probably fumble a lot, and he’d probably get barbecue sauce all over his feet, but that was okay. Much better than dropping cutlery everywhere and utterly failing to get food anywhere near his mouth! And messy feet were no problem. Maybe Ethan would even help lick them clean. Brandon got a bit flushed again thinking about this.
Ethan bit his lip and smiled as he watched Brandon’s adorable, wiggling toes. He mused on the fact that, before today, he didn’t get many opportunities to ogle Brandon’s bare feet. Now he could ogle them whenever he liked, because there was a pair right there, hanging from his wrists. He could hardly tear his eyes off them. Tyler walked over again at that point, pen and notepad in hand. “What can I get you two lovebirds?” he said, smiling.
Brandon blushed, wondering how much of Ethan kissing Brandon’s feet Tyler had watched from across the cafe. “I’ll–I’ll have the barbecue chicken wings.”
Tyler grinned and scribbled on his pad. “Good choice! No forks to drop,” he added, winking. “Anything else to drink?”
Brandon, grinning sheepishly, shook his head. “No, thanks.”
Tyler turned to Ethan. “And for you?”
“I think I’ll have the same,” Ethan replied weakly, handing his menu over while he blushed.
Tyler then went to pick up the menu weighed down by Brandon’s heavy wristfeet, politely waiting for him to lift them, and left, saying, “Two plates of chicken wings, coming right up!”
When Brandon lowered his wristfeet back to the table, he found Ethan’s hands waiting there to hold them. Ethan smiled as his palms were warmed by Brandon’s soft soles—he never wanted to let go of the gorgeous feet. He really, really wanted to just lift those puppies up and press his face against the soles, but he held himself back—Tyler’s comments had reminded him how public they were right now.
Brandon smiled. “I really like it when you hold my feet.” He snuggled his soles against Ethan’s palms, almost sighing at how good every touch felt on his big, sensitive new feet. He wished Ethan would lift them back up to his lips, to his face… Brandon wanted to feel Ethan’s handsome face with his soles and toes so badly. But he had to remember they were in public.
Just then, a guy walking by outside happened to glance in at Ethan and Brandon, and almost tripped over himself as he saw Brandon’s feet on the table. He quickly walked off, but Brandon had to bring one foot up to his mouth to stifle a laugh, pressing the long arch against his lips.
Ethan snorted, failing to hold back his laugh and covering his own mouth after the embarrassing sound had escaped it. He blushed at seeing Brandon with a foot covering his mouth, and in that moment, as he covered his own mouth with his hand, he felt a little envious. “What’s his problem,” he said. “What, has he never seen a guy with wristfeet before?”
Brandon couldn’t stifle his laugh this time, but still kept his wristfoot up against his mouth as he doubled over, laughing. He sighed, and wiped his eye with his big toe. “He’s not the first guy I surprised today. One guy walked right into a sign post!” Brandon held up his wristfoot and lifted his other out of Ethan’s hand to mimic marching right into it, clapping his wristfeet together with a soft paff.
Ethan laughed, not just at the anecdote, but at the adorably clumsy way Brandon’s wristfeet collided together. He looked so cute gesturing with them, those heavy, cumbersome feet hanging so nicely from his wrists.
“To be fair, I was pretty shocked by them!” he said, returning his hands to the table, palms raised, hoping Brandon would rest his feet on them again. “But at least I knew what wristfeet were already. For someone with no idea, they must seem out of this world!”
Brandon lowered his feet down into Ethan’s waiting hands, and smiled as his soles met Ethan’s palms, and Ethan’s fingers wrapped around his arches. “How do you know so much about wristfeet?” he asked, casually. “Do you know other… wristfooted guys?”
Brandon still wasn’t sure the right terms to use for someone like him, although he did love the word wristfooted. I’m wristfooted, he thought to himself, happily, curling his toes and feet in Ethan’s hands.
“Not personally… I’ve seen pictures. A couple of videos,” Ethan replied. He neglected to say they were usually pornographic in nature. He’d always been fascinated with wristfeet, and his favorite porn star was wristfooted, too. He smiled. He couldn’t wait to show Brandon his videos. He blushed as he realized there was something he wanted to admit to Brandon. “I’ll be honest… I used to imagine you like this. Ever since I first saw your bare feet, I’ve wanted to see you with two more on your wrists… I’m still having trouble believing this is real!”
Brandon was amazed. His wish really had come true! He had exactly the body that Ethan fantasized about! Brandon smiled and pressed his soles against Ethan’s palms, leaning closer across the table. Brandon was comforted, too, to hear that there were other wristfooted guys in the world. Maybe he’d meet one of them one day, and he could give Brandon advice on living with wristfeet! But right now, Brandon just wanted to be with Ethan, this beautiful guy he’d accidentally—serendipitously—become wristfooted for. “All four of my feet are yours,” Brandon said quietly, smiling at Ethan.
Ethan’s eyes widened, his heart raced, and almost without controlling it, he leaned forward and kissed Brandon, squeezing his wristfeet. This was everything he ever wanted—Brandon, going from his crush, to his amazingly four-footed boyfriend. He stopped caring that they were in public, and didn’t care who watched. As he parted he whispered longingly to Brandon. “If those are my feet… I need them on my face right now.”
Brandon slid his feet up to the sides of Ethan’s face and pulled him back into another his, holding Ethan’s cheeks gently between his arches, his heels cupping Ethan’s chin, his curling toes brushing the sides of Ethan’s forehead, lightly smoothing his hair. His feet felt so comfortable holding Ethan close like this, and their kiss went on and on.
Oh, I get it now! Ethan thought as his light moaning was thankfully stifled by Brandon’s mouth, I’ve died and this is heaven!
He lifted his hands to hold the wristfeet to his face, almost desperately, like he couldn’t bear for the soft soles to be parted from him. He loved Brandon’s feet. He loved the way they covered his face, their softness and warmth, the gentle smell—even though Brandon had washed his wristfeet and hadn’t been walking on them since, they still had a slight, and undeniable, scent, and it was divine. Ethan lost all sense of time as he kissed Brandon, and only after he parted for air, panting, did he realize there were now two plates of barbecue chicken wings underneath them.
He turned sharply to see Tyler walking away from their table.
Brandon caressed the near side of Ethan’s face with his toes briefly before reluctantly pulling his wristfeet back, chuckling. “Poor Tyler,” he said, carefully resting his feet on either side of his plate. “I think we owe him a big tip.”
“For sure,” breathed Ethan, adjusting his pants a little as he leaned back, taking a sip of coffee. “Well… all that kissing has made me really hungry—” for your feet “—so I hope you don’t mind if I dig in?” Ethan started his meal, but he pointedly watched Brandon’s wristfeet, aware that he was getting dinner and a show.
Brandon looked down at his plate. The chicken wings seemed so small, fiddly, and delicate next to his big, clumsy feet. But by now, he was hungry too, and seeing and smelling the wings made his stomach growl. Brandon slowly lifted his heavy feet, and tried to grab a wing carefully between both sets of toes. It worked, briefly, but then he put too much pressure on it with his feet, and it slipped, and fell back onto the pile of wings, smearing sauce on the balls of his feet and the underside of his toes.
Brandon laughed and tried again, clutching the wing with the big toes and first toes of each foot, even more delicately this time, bringing it up to his mouth. This time success! Brandon finally got to tear at the meat of the wing. It was a bit messy. Brandon got a little sauce on his chin, and plenty of sauce running down his soles, but all-in-all, it was not bad for his second meal eating with wristfeet.
Brandon wasn’t really able to turn the wing to get at all the meat, and ended up dropping and picking it up several times, smearing more sauce on his soles and toes, before finally finishing most of the wing and carefully putting it aside. Seeing that some sauce had dripped all the way down his sole and was about to drip off the heel, he held up that foot, and turning his head to the side, gave his foot a long lick up from the heel, all the way up the sole, before licking the rest of his sole and the ball clean, enjoying licking his foot maybe a little too much. His toes were still a barbecue sauce mess, but he’d be picking up another wing in a moment, so he left them for later and started to try to pick up a second wing.
Ethan had barely taken one bite before he had to stop. He was too distracted by the performance in front of him—it was captivating. When Brandon licked his own sole, Ethan let out a gentle whimper. How he wanted to lick those soft, smooth soles for him… he knew when he’d pointed this dish out to Brandon that he’d enjoy watching it unfold, but perhaps he was enjoying it a little too much—his pants were feeling alarmingly tight, and he was too distracted to even eat his own food!
Brandon was a bit too distracted by his food—and especially his feet—to notice Ethan stopping and staring. It wasn’t until he was halfway through his second wing, pretty confident of his grip on it this time, that he looked up at Ethan and noticed him just staring, not even moving. Brandon froze. The chicken wing dropped from his feet onto his plate, leaving smears of barbecue sauce down his soles.
He swallowed nervously. “Is everything… is everything okay?” Brandon asked, sitting there with his sauce-smeared feet right in front of him.
Ethan didn’t answer. He dropped the wing he’d taken a single bite out of, and grabbed Brandon’s wrists, bringing his sauce-covered toes to his mouth where he engulfed both of Brandon’s big toes at once. A primal urge had overtaken him—he needed those toes in his mouth, needed to lick and suck them, needed Brandon to know how much he loved them. With once again a total disregard for the fact that they were in public, Ethan firmly held Brandon’s wrists there as he licked and sucked at his toes with fervour.
Brandon chuckled and wriggled a bit as Ethan sucked his toes. It felt so good! Everything Ethan did with Brandon’s big, smooth, sensitive feet felt so incredible! Brandon grinned as Ethan sucked every one of his toes clean, and then started licking them to make extra sure. Brandon laughed. “I’m starting to think the chicken wings were more for you than for me!”
Ethan giggled, and leaned his head against one of Brandon’s wristfoot soles, staring at him lovingly while he rubbed his thumb over the arch of the other.
“Busted!” he said, grinning. “But… I wasn’t exactly lying when I said the wings would be easier to eat with your feet… in fact… I bet it’d be so easy you could even feed me!”
Brandon laughed and gave Ethan a knowing smile. He gently pulled his feet back from Ethan’s grasp, picked up another wing from his plate between his feet, and held it out across the table for Ethan, toes towards Ethan’s face, the ends of the wing held between his big toe and first toe on each foot. “Eat up,” Brandon said, teasingly.
Grinning, Ethan held onto the big, soft heels, and started eating the wing, making sure to lick Brandon’s toes at every opportunity. Brandon’s feet definitely improved the flavour—just adding a hint of footiness that Ethan enjoyed. He helped turn the wing around, but left it in Brandon’s toes to finish it up, and when he was done, he cleaned those toes with his tongue, too.
Brandon revelled in Ethan’s attentions to his wristfeet. Ethan’s hands on his heels, Ethan’s fingers casually massaging his soles, Ethan’s tongue and lips all over his toes. He wanted the little chicken wing to last forever. When Ethan finally finished, Brandon disposed of the bones, and put his big feet down again on either side of his plate.
“How was that? Want another one?” Brandon asked, grinning.
“Brandon… I could eat every meal from out of those feet…” Ethan said longingly. “But… we should finish up our meals quickly… I don’t know about you, but I’d really like to go somewhere a little more… private?” he finished, reaching over to caress the tops of Brandon’s wristfeet.
Brandon’s cock, which had been straining in his pants pretty much since Ethan had first touched his feet, throbbed, and Brandon blushed, grinned, and nodded, picking up his wristfeet and delicately extracting another chicken wing from his plate with his toes, dropping it a couple of times on the way to his mouth, and smearing plenty of sauce over his feet, but mostly ignoring that to get his wings eaten quickly. He couldn’t help but keep looking up at Ethan occasionally, as he nibbled and dropped and recovered and nibbled and licked, catching Ethan’s eager smiles and winks as Brandon fumbled through his plate of wings.
Ethan quickly ate his way through his own plate, getting plenty of sauce smeared around his lips since he wasn’t really watching what he was eating—he was far too captivated by Brandon’s display. His new boyfriend was so adorably clumsy… and it turned him on so much whenever Brandon licked at his own soles or sucked on his own toes. Pretty soon they were finished—although Ethan finished first, of course—and as the last bones slipped from Brandon’s toes back onto his plate, he saw Ethan staring longingly, hungrily, at his sauce covered wristfeet. They were so covered, it was as though he’d been using them to walk through barbecue sauce!
Brandon looked down at himself and laughed.
“My feet are a mess!” he said, flexing his toes and turning his feet to show Ethan the soles.
There was sauce all over his toes and the balls of his feet, smeared all across his arches and soles, even dripping all the way down over his heels.
He brought one foot back to his face and started licking it clean again, long, slow licks from his heel, over his sole and the ball of his foot, to under his toes, then starting over again at the heel, licking all the way up again. It felt and tasted so good, Brandon was totally lost in licking his wristfoot while still holding out his other sauce-coated foot in front of Ethan.
Ethan’s cock throbbed and strained against his pants at Brandon’s display of self-foot worship. He grabbed hold of the wrist in front of him and mirrored Brandon’s ministrations, sliding his tongue from the heel up over the curve of the arch until it buried itself in between his toes. His sole was delicious, even without the sticky sauce coating it, and so soft against his tongue. He started sucking on the sticky toes like they were lollipops, barely able to stop himself from moaning. Even when the gorgeous wristfoot was clean, he couldn’t tear himself away, kissing the ball of the foot and burying his lips in the sole.
Brandon shuddered as Ethan began licking and cleaning his foot, cock throbbing, foot flexing and toes curling, but he doggedly continued at his task, similarly getting lost in it, so that even once his foot was completely clean, he couldn’t help but continue to suck on his toes, twisting his tongue in and around them as they wiggled and curled.
Then they both heard a voice beside them.
“You guys all cleaned up?”
Brandon and Ethan looked up from Brandon’s feet to see Tyler standing there, grinning at them.
“Can I take your plates?” he offered.
The boys blushed, but couldn’t help giggling at each other. Tyler chuckled along too as he took their plates. “I take it you enjoyed your meal—especially since it seems you guys didn’t want to waste any of that sauce…” he said, winking.
“Heh, it was, uh… delicious,” Ethan said, blushing, looking into Brandon’s eyes as he gently rubbed the wristfoot in his grip.
Brandon put the foot he’d been licking down on the table, but couldn’t bear to pull his other foot back from Ethan’s soft massage. Blushing harder and curling the toes of his foot, he dipped his head, avoiding meeting Tyler’s eyes, but still peeking back up at Ethan, grinning sheepishly.
“Can I get you guys anything else, then? More coffee? Dessert?” Tyler asked Ethan, grinning.
Ethan blushed deeper as he imagined sucking sweet cream or chocolate sauce from Brandon’s toes. It was certainly very tempting… but if they continued this shamelessly public display of foot worship, Ethan was going to need a change of pants.
“Uh… maybe something to go?” he said, looking to Brandon for approval. “What do you think? Any desserts you really want to… dip your toes in?”
Brandon chuckled and stared at Ethan, enjoying both his foot massage and the idea of getting his toes into more food that Ethan could lick clean… especially in private.
“I could bring you a slice of our quadruple chocolate cake: chocolate cake filled with chocolate syrup, covered with chocolate whipped cream, and sprinkled with chocolate chips. I’m sure you could make a mess of it,” Tyler said, winking at Brandon.
“Mmm… that sounds delicious!” Ethan said, looking enthusiastically at the wristfoot in his hands, imagining it dripping in chocolate syrup… “Quadruple chocolate sounds so right for someone with quadrupled feet. You’re right, I’m sure he could make a real mess of it… but I’m sure I’d have no trouble—” here he gave a quick lick to Brandon’s big toe “—cleaning it up again…”
Tyler laughed. “All right, one slice of ‘quadruped’ chocolate cake, coming right up. I’ll make sure to cut it extra big,” Tyler said, with a big smile.
Brandon blushed, his mind filled with the same images as Ethan’s. He was also thinking about the word quadruped, and how he had four feet now. He guessed it was a word he’d be hearing more often now, since he was one. He grinned at Ethan and wiggled the toes of the foot in Ethan’s hand.
“To go!” Ethan called out as Tyler walked away, getting a thumbs up in response.
Ethan turned back to Brandon, continuing his massage of Brandon’s wristfoot. “I don’t know about you, but… I can’t wait til we’re all by ourselves…” He couldn’t stop himself from planting a kiss on the soft ball of the big foot, admiring the wiggling toes.
Brandon grinned. “Same here. Not that I didn’t enjoy sharing this meal with you here.” He turned the toes of his foot to caress Ethan’s jaw.
Ethan sighed happily, leaning into the touch, eventually lifting the foot up a little so he could rest his face against the sole. Brandon was a little taken aback at how cute Ethan looked while his face was cradled by his wristfoot, his chin resting on the heel while he leaned into the curve of the arch, Brandon’s toes tousling Ethan’s hair a little. “Me too. I loved sharing it with you… I love that you’re wristfooted now…” he said, smiling at Brandon.
Hearing that made Brandon’s heart flutter. He was still reeling that Ethan liked him, and all four of his feet! Brandon wiggled his toes against Ethan’s hair. “Well, all four of my feet are all yours,” Brandon said, staring at Ethan’s cute face nestled against his foot.
“Good… that means I can do what I like with them!” Ethan said, grinning and turning his face to plant another kiss on the sole. He leaned back, keeping both hands wrapped around the soft, supple sole, as Tyler arrived with a take-out box, and the bill.
“I took the liberty of ringing you guys up, since you seem so eager to get going,” he said, smiling knowingly. Ethan blushed as he smiled back.
“Did you bring your wallet, or should I get this?” Ethan asked as he turned to Brandon.
“Oh, I’ve got my wallet!” Brandon said, leaving one foot in Ethan’s grasp, and fumbled at his pocket with his other foot. With some work, he was able to dig his toes into the pocket, but wasn’t able to get his foot in far enough to reach his wallet.
“Wait, I got this,” Brandon insisted. He pulled his other foot out of Ethan’s grasp and used his big toe to pry his pocket open to try to get his wristfoot in deeper. Finally he was able to reach his wallet with his toes, but he wasn’t able to pull the wallet out. His toes kept slipping off the top of the wallet, but he kept trying, while Ethan and Tyler watched him fumbling, amused.
“He’s so adorably clumsy,” Ethan said sidelong to Tyler as they watched.
“You’re a lucky guy,” Tyler observed. Brandon changed tacks, trying to push the wallet out from the bottom with one wristfoot while grabbing at it with the toes of the other.
“Yeah… I am,” Ethan replied.
Brandon wasn’t really listening as he struggled to push the wallet up out of his pocket. Finally the wallet popped out of his pocket and dropped to the floor. Brandon grabbed it from the floor between both sets of toes and finally set it on the table, with a look of triumph at Ethan and Tyler.
He flipped open his wallet with the toes of one wristfoot, but then stared at it in confusion, wondering how he was going to get his card or cash out. “Um… I still got this,” he said, as he anchored the wallet with one foot while attempting to slide his card out with the toes of his other foot.
“I could watch this all day…” Ethan murmured dreamily, making Tyler chuckle.
Thankfully for Brandon, after a couple of attempts where his big toe slipped off the card, it didn’t take him too long to get it out. After it slid onto the table, he scrabbled at it with his toes, trying to pick it up. Before he knocked that onto the floor, too, he pushed it to the edge of the table, and wedged it between the big and second toes of his other wristfoot, holding it up triumphantly. Ethan and Tyler both applauded.
Brandon blushed a bit. He was proud of managing all that with his feet, but a bit embarrassed he’d made Ethan and Tyler wait. Still, their applause was genuine and not mocking. Brandon grinned at Tyler as Tyler took the card from Brandon’s toes. “I’ll be right back,” said Tyler, with a wink, stepping away to process the card.
“Sorry that got a little involved,” said Brandon, holding out his wristfeet towards Ethan, soles up, helplessly.
Ethan chuckled as he gratefully placed his hands on the big, soft soles, resting his palms there. “Don’t be silly—I loved watching you do that. I think Tyler enjoyed the show too!” He rubbed his thumbs over Brandon’s arches, smiling. “I love that you did it all by yourself. Watching those clumsy feet of yours at work—it’s so adorable. Still…if you ever do need help, don’t hesitate to ask…my rates are quite reasonable, just a kiss on each foot!”
Brandon felt himself getting hard again—or more accurately, getting harder—as Ethan rubbed his thumbs over Brandon’s arches. His feet were so sensitive!
“Can I get those even if I don’t ask for help?” Brandon asked, with a sheepish grin.
In response, Ethan happily lifted the big wristfeet up to his face and tenderly kissed the tops. “You can get them any time,” he said, blushing and smiling as he lowered them to the table again. They were so heavy, Ethan realized, they must be exhausting Brandon’s arms, hanging off his wrists like that all the time!
Brandon’s arms were a little more tired than usual, but he didn’t notice it. He was too excited having Ethan holding his feet, and kissing his feet! His cock was throbbing in his pants, and he definitely couldn’t wait to get somewhere more private with Ethan. Fortunately, Tyler came back quickly with Brandon’s card.
“Not to delay you further,” Tyler said, slipping Brandon’s card back between the big and second toes of the foot Brandon raised to accept it, “but could you sign this for me?”
Tyler put down the receipt on the table and held out a pen for Brandon. Brandon blushed and nodded, taking his other foot from Ethan’s hands and using it to anchor his wallet while he worked on sliding the card back in. It took a couple of tries and some scrubbing with his toes, but finally the card slid back into place, although slightly askew. Brandon didn’t worry about that, though. Instead, he lifted his right wristfoot again and accepted Tyler’s pen between his big and second toes, curling his toes to grip it tight, and then brought the pen down to the receipt to try to sign.
On the first attempt, the receipt just moved with the pen. Chuckling, Brandon held it to the table with the toes of his left wristfoot. He blushed when he realized Ethan was watching with an enthralled look. He lowered the pen again; his toes were clearly unsuited for writing, as was evident when his first stroke ended up twice as long as he’d intended. He was clearly not going to be able to achieve his normal signature, so he just tried to spell out his first name as legibly as possible.
Getting the curves for the capital B was a problem, as the motions of his toes made them much more angled, like he was writing in some kind of ancient rune language. The R looked very similar; the A was a little easier now that he’d gotten into the swing of things. When he tried the first line of the N, the pen slipped out of his toes and clattered to the table. He made a grab for it, but accidentally kicked it to the floor with his cumbersome wristfoot.
“Sorry!” he said, bending over to grab the pen off the floor, scrabbling at it with his toes. He finally got a grip on it and lifted it to the table, but getting a writing grip on it again was going to be a challenge. With the pen on the table, he brought the toes of his right wristfoot down on it, sliding it between his big and second toes, the curling his toes to try to grip it, but it kept slipping from his grasp.
Eventually he got a sort of wobbly grip on it, and brought it back to the receipt. Holding the receipt with his other foot again, he tried to salvage the N he’d started, almost losing the pen again a couple of times in the process. The D came a bit more smoothly, but was similarly misshapen as the B. The O was… not even vaguely circular, but he just chuckled and moved on to try to make an N again without launching the pen out of his foot. Learning from the first N, he finished his name off without dropping the pen again, and looked at his handiwork (or footiwork) proudly. Sure, it only looked like the word ‘BRANDON’ from a certain angle, if you squinted, but it was still a signature! Most signatures were illegible anyway. He happily passed the pen back to Tyler, who also took the receipt and smiled back at him.
“Unique and unmistakable,” said Tyler, with a wink. “It’s been a pleasure serving you two, I hope you come back soon!”
As Tyler walked away, Ethan started to stand up, but sat down again, blushing profusely.
“Um… maybe we should just sit for a moment, uh… your feet have kinda got me a little, um… riled up,” he explained awkwardly.
Brandon made a sideways grin. “I’m having the same problem.”
He cradled the take out box between his soles, trying to give his feet something neutral to do. He wanted to touch Ethan so badly! But he knew that wouldn’t help either of them get out of the restaurant any faster, and he really wanted to be alone with Ethan.
The two boys made small talk for a minute, both of them struggling not to pay any attention to Brandon’s wristfeet. This was harder for Brandon, of course, seeing as he was constantly feeling them there at the ends of his arms, but they managed to ‘cool off’ to the point where they could stand up without embarrassing themselves. Seeing as he already had his feet around the take out box, Brandon carried it as they left for his car.
Ethan held the door open for Brandon, and then accepted the take out box from him when they got to Brandon’s car. Then Brandon had to work on extracting his keys from his pocket. He tried prying the pocket open with the big toe of one foot, while fishing around in his pocket with the toes of his other foot, but while he was able to almost snag the keys a couple of times, they kept falling from his toes back into his pocket.
Ethan, takeout box between his hands, watched this process with an amused grin.
Finally, Brandon snagged the keys well enough to fish them from his pocket, but they immediately fell on the ground. This was some progress at least. With both wristfeet, Brandon reached down to the ground to recover the keys, giving Ethan a pleasant view of how identical all four of Brandon’s feet were.
“Quadruped,” Ethan murmured to himself, as Brandon finally got the keys between the toes of both wristfeet and moved them up to the door lock.
“Hmm?” Brandon asked, turning to Ethan as he pressed the key against the lock, and it slipped from his grasp to the ground again.
Ethan chuckled as Brandon bent over again, wristfeet to the ground next to his flip-flop clad regular feet. “It’s nothing—I was just admiring how your four feet all look good together,” Ethan explained. “Y’know, I can’t wait to see them all bare… I’d love to have all four of them in my lap to compare them…” he added, blushing as Brandon managed to scrunch the keys up between his toes again.
Brandon’s cock stirred again as he imagined Ethan massaging all four of his feet, and almost lost his grip on the keys, but stayed focused this time and managed to unlock the car. Turning his feet, he moved the keys so that they rested on one upturned sole, while he grabbed and pulled the door handle with the toes of his other foot. Once the door was open, he mashed the door unlock button on the inside handle with his big toe, unlocking the passenger door for Ethan.
He turned back and gave Ethan a grin. “Okay, you get can in now!” he said, the keys almost sliding from his upturned foot before he quickly slapped his other foot on top, trapping the keys between his soles.
Ethan got in and closed the door, doing his seatbelt and resting the box on his lap, in the time it took Brandon to get in and close his own door. Brandon deposited the keys in his lap for the moment as he tried to get a grip on the seatbelt, attempting to tug on it with his toes, but finding he couldn’t quite get a strong enough grip.
“Gotta say, I’m looking forward to seeing how you drive with wristfeet. Then again, I guess I look forward to seeing you do anything with them,” Ethan said, thankful that the take out box was hiding his crotch, as his cock was reawakening on seeing Brandon use his feet so much.
“I… I’m looking forward to showing you,” Brandon said, as he tucked his whole wristfoot under the seat belt and pulled it down with his sole. It took some fumbling with his other wristfoot to guide the tongue into the latch, but he eventually got it.
He then started working on fishing his keys out of his lap, which was tough because his toes kept brushing his growing cock through his pants. Finally he got the car key safely gripped between his big toes and guided it to the ignition, scraping around a few times and almost losing the grip before sliding the key in. Once the key was in the lock, he turned it with the toes of one wristfoot, and the car engine roared to life. Brandon turned to Ethan with a triumphant grin.
Ethan giggled and gave him a thumbs-up, and Brandon set his feet on the wheel as he started pulling out of the parking space. Ethan admired how Brandon drove with relative ease, his wristfeet not causing too many issues for him.
“Seems like you’ve got the hang of wristfooted driving!” he said. “Hmm, remind me later to show you this YouTube channel—LifeWithWristfeet. It’s a vlog about a guy doing everyday things with his wristfeet—he started about a year ago, and I’ve been hooked ever since. It could help you with figuring out how to use your own wristfeet!”
Brandon’s eyes widened, and he almost stopped the car dead in the street. “There’s a YouTube channel about wristfeet?” He’d never even heard of wristfeet before today, and now he was learning so much. “That… that would probably be a big help.” He clenched his toes as his soles rested on the wheel.
“Oh yeah—wristfeet aren’t that common, sadly, but there are a few guys here and there,” Ethan explained. “There are a few things I could show you online. I think there’s a forum too. And, um, there’s a more… explicit website that I like…” he added, grinning and winking at Brandon.
Brandon blushed and felt his cock throb. His own ‘life with wristfeet’ was turning him on just with random touches from or on his feet, and it hadn’t even got ‘explicit’ yet, although he hoped it would soon, with Ethan.
“There’s wristfoot… porn?” asked Brandon, trying to keep his eyes focused on the road, but his toes were flexing and wiggling as he gripped the wheel harder with his soles.
Ethan chuckled. “Oh, yeah—not a whole lot of it unfortunately. But there’s this one guy I watch all the time, he—” Ethan stopped as he realized he just admitted to watching a lot of wristfoot porn, but continued, blushing. “He, uh, he used to just be a foot fetish actor, but he decided to go all out and turn his hands into wristfeet. I… think you’d like his videos,” he finished, glancing sidelong at Brandon’s curling and uncurling toes.
Brandon wondered how this actor had gotten his wristfeet, but he was also enjoying Ethan’s cute blushing as he talked about watching wristfoot porn.
“Maybe I should watch him before LifeWithWristfeet,” Brandon said, grinning, and catching Ethan’s eye in the rear view mirror. “Then I’ll know what I should do with you!” Brandon wiggled his toes as he gripped the wheel harder to turn onto the road to Ethan’s place.
Ethan practically gasped and his cock throbbed. He kept a tight grip on the take out box lest it rise and alert Brandon to his growing hard-on.
“W–well, I could put a video of his on, when we’re through with dessert,” he suggested, keeping his eyes on Brandon’s teasingly mobile toes.
Brandon laughed and wiggled his toes again as he turned into the lot beside Ethan’s apartment building. “Okay, but once that chocolate and cream is all over my feet, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to pay attention to anybody but you.” Brandon slid the car into a parking space and turned to grin at Ethan.
“Damn, I can’t wait to start licking your feet again,” Ethan said, biting his lip. He unbuckled and shifted the take out box, unwittingly giving Brandon a view of his tented pants. “Babe, those toes of yours are so unfair… I swear, you move them just a little and it’s like my pants become a size too small,” Ethan said, eyeing up the ten perfect digits.
Brandon grinned, and used his toes to turn off the car, and then quickly turned and grabbed Ethan’s face with both feet, toes caressing his cheeks, and pulled him in for a kiss. “I’m so turned on just hearing you talk about my feet,” Brandon whispered, leaning his forehead against Ethan’s.
Ethan moaned lightly as the soft soles framed his face. “Oh, Brandon… I want to do more than just talk about them…” He turned his head and licked a line up Brandon’s right wristfoot sole, along the arch and up to the toes. “We need to get inside so we can actually do some of those things… but your feet are so damn distracting… like I said, it’s just unfair…”
Brandon closed his eyes and softly moaned as Ethan licked his foot. When he opened them again, he smiled at Ethan. “Well, let’s get inside and I’ll try to make it up to you. And we can talk about making things fairer.”
Brandon reluctantly pulled away from Ethan, and pulled the keys from the ignition with his toes, shoving them back into his pocket. They only went part way, but it was good enough. Brandon and Ethan got out of the car, and Brandon mashed the door lock button with the ball of his foot, and closed his door. He bowed to Ethan, holding one foot at his stomach, and gesturing outwards with the other, sole up. “After you, good sir,” he said, teasingly, with a wiggle of his toes.
Laughing, Ethan went ahead first. “Such a gentleman!” he said, fishing his own keys out and unlocking the front door. He shucked his shoes once he was inside, and Brandon slipped off his flip-flops. Ethan still had ankle socks on, but seeing Brandon going barefoot—with all four feet, no less—he slipped those off too. His own feet were a little smaller than Brandon’s, with a more pronounced arch, but were still gorgeous.
“I’m just gonna get a plate and some… other stuff, meet me in the living room!” Ethan said, heading to the kitchen.
“Hurry back!” said Brandon, watching Ethan’s bare feet as he walked away. Before getting his new feet, Brandon hadn’t paid too much attention to Ethan’s feet, but now he took in every detail, from the cute toes, to the beautiful arches, to the round heels. Brandon licked his lips. Hopefully he’d get a closer look soon.
He walked over to the living room and sat on the couch, wristfeet placed soles down on the couch on either side of him, wiggling his toes, waiting, thinking about Ethan and Ethan’s feet. With how into wristfeet Ethan was, and how beautiful his feet were, Brandon thought it was a shame Ethan didn’t have four feet of his own.
How did these other guys get their wristfeet? Were there that many wristfoot-granting genies running around? Or did that one genie just pop up wherever he was needed? Brandon chuckled at the thought, wiggling all twenty of his toes.
Ethan returned a moment later with a plate of indulgent chocolate cake, and a bottle of double cream, which he set down on the coffee table in front of Brandon. Then, while he was down there, he knelt in front of Brandon and lifted up his legs, holding his regular feet up in front of his face.
“Hold your wristfeet up for me—I just wanna see them all together!” he said, grinning at the beautiful soles in front of him.
Brandon grinned and reached forward, holding his wristfeet alongside his original feet so that all four soles were lined up in front of Ethan. Brandon flexed and curled all his toes. “Like this?” he asked.
“Woah…” Ethan said. They really were identical. Ethan felt like he was overloaded by the beauty of Brandon’s feet. He kissed all four of them in a row, on the ball of each foot, pressing his nose between the toes as he did so. “Brandon… your feet are perfect. I love them all so much… I could stare at them for hours…”
Brandon curled his toes and blushed. “Your feet are so sexy, Ethan. I couldn’t keep my eyes off them when you took your shoes off. And it feels so good when you kiss my feet.”
Ethan blushed deeply. “Y–you like my feet, too?” he asked, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I do!” said Brandon. “Even if you only have two of them,” he joked, laughing, and wiggling all his toes.
Ethan’s mind reeled at what Brandon had said. It made him think—not for the first time—about getting wristfeet himself. Brandon would be ok with that? No—from the look of things, Brandon would like that. It was something to bear in mind…
“Well… maybe later you can get a look at them up close…” Ethan said, standing up. “But right now… we have some cake to eat… and I didn’t bring a fork…” He grinned, sitting next to Brandon and gesturing at the cake in front of him.
Brandon placed his feet on either side of his face, pretending to be shocked.
“Oh, no!” he said, holding back laughter. “I guess we’ll have to eat it with my feet!”
He held out his wristfeet, and wiggled his toes before digging one foot into the cake and pulling off a gooey, chocolatey, creamy piece. He braced the piece with his other wristfoot, smearing chocolate and cream on that foot as well, before holding out the piece to Ethan on one foot, sole up.
Ethan’s cock throbbed again when Brandon had his wristfeet on his own face, and then it throbbed harder when one of the cake-covered wristfeet was offered to him. He grabbed the wrist and hungrily ate the cake from it, getting in lots of long licks all over Brandon’s sole and toes, smiling and gently moaning at the delicious flavours.
“What a way to eat…” he mumbled, mouth half full of cake. Brandon used his free wristfoot to grab another chunk between his toes, lifting it to his mouth. This wasn’t a neat process, and smeared chocolate and whipped cream and mini chocolate chips across Brandon’s foot, and around his mouth.
As he chewed the bite, Brandon mumbled, “I’m okay if we do all meals this way.” Brandon dug up another gooey, messy piece of cake with his foot and offered it to Ethan this time, as Ethan was still licking and sucking his other foot.
“Mmm… yes, please…” Ethan said, relinquishing the now spotless wristfoot and taking the next one, repeating the process of eating, licking, kissing and sucking.
His world was Brandon’s feet, and he didn’t want that to change any time soon. He imagined having wristfeet of his own, to feed Brandon with, and the thought just made him harder as he moaned into Brandon’s toes.
Brandon snuck glances at Ethan’s bare feet as he dug up another chunk of gooey cake for himself, licking it off his foot. All the attention his wristfeet were getting from both Ethan and himself was making him throbbing hard, and the sight of Ethan’s beautiful feet wasn’t helping either. Brandon found himself more interested in licking them than in the delicious cake he’d mostly demolished with his feet. After they’d both cleaned his wristfeet completely again with their tongues, Ethan raised an eyebrow when Brandon didn’t grab another chunk.
“Had enough cake already?” he asked. Brandon blushed and shook his head, rubbing his neck with a wristfoot bashfully.
“Actually… could I try eating some of it… from out of your feet?” Brandon asked bashfully.
Ethan’s cock strained against his pants at the suggestion. He grinned, and lifted his legs, pressing his bare feet against Brandon’s chest to push him back a little, then moved his feet over the cake, wriggling his toes before plunging them straight into what remained of the chocolatey dessert.
He scooped up a little, and awkwardly lifted it towards Brandon, steadying his legs by supporting them with his hands. Brandon further steadied Ethan’s legs with his wristfeet, guiding Ethan’s feet to his mouth, licking his tongue back and forth over the ten perfect toes before pulling them closer and pushing the piece of gooey cake into his mouth. Grinning at Ethan, and licking his lips, Brandon then proceeded to doggedly lick Ethan’s feet clean. Getting every last scrap of chocolate and whipped cream off the balls of his feet, from under Ethan’s toes, and even some that had dripped or smeared on his soles. To make sure he’d gotten everything, Brandon spent a good amount of time sucking and licking each of Ethan’s toes in turn.
Ethan was left panting by the end of it. His cock was yearning for the touch of Brandon’s feet. He was getting all worked up just from having his feet licked… he could barely imagine how Brandon felt when his wristfeet received that same treatment.
“Alright…enough dessert…” Ethan said, cupping the sides of Brandon’s face with his feet playfully. “How ‘bout you put those wristfeet to work?” he asked, grinning slyly.
Brandon rubbed the tops of Ethan’s feet against his face with his feet. It felt wonderful having Ethan’s feet there. Brandon moved forward and brushed the arch of one wristfoot over the bulge in Ethan’s pants, gently scratching at the head of Ethan’s cock with his toes, before moving both wristfeet to the button on Ethan’s pants, trying to get it undone, and failing repeatedly. But each failure just made Brandon chuckle as he worked at getting to Ethan’s cock.
Ethan arched his back, trying to thrust his crotch against the soft, smooth sole of Brandon’s wristfoot. Then, as his toes scrabbled at his flies, he just got more aroused, moaning gently—the movements were so close to the head of his cock, the pressure of those toes just enough to drive him wild.
Brandon was more and more aroused too, with Ethan’s flexing feet still on his face as he struggled with Ethan’s pants. Finally, finally, he got the flies open and dug his wristfeet into the waistband of Ethan’s pants and underwear, pulling them down at the same time, letting Ethan’s hard cock bounce free. Brandon laughed with delight at his success, and immediately grabbed Ethan’s cock between the balls of his wristfeet, wriggling his toes against Ethan’s shaft.
It took all of Ethan’s restraint not to finish then and there, as he gasped and his toes curled against Brandon’s temples.
“Fuck… your wristfeet are so hot, babe.”
He’d watched videos of his favourite porn star giving footjobs with his wristfeet countless times, but actually receiving a wristfootjob was miles better, and he felt like his cock could explode at any moment.
Brandon ran his toes up and down Ethan’s shaft a few times, enjoying feeling Ethan’s cockhead with his big toes.
“I love feeling your feet on my face,” said Brandon, laughing when his big toes touching Ethan’s cockhead made Ethan’s toes curl. “Any tips from your wristfoot porn star on what I should do next?” he asked, gently circling Ethan’s cockhead with one big toe while the toes of his other foot teased Ethan’s shaft.
“Y–you’re doing a great job,” Ethan panted, straining not to blow his load so soon. “But, uh…there’s this fantasy I’ve always had…of getting a footjob from four feet at once,” he said, grinning at Brandon and stroking his face with his feet as he leaned back on his elbows.
“Lucky for you, I’m a quadruped!” said Brandon, bending his knees and bringing his legs up on the couch so that his feet could reach Ethan’s crotch, moving carefully all the while so that Ethan wouldn’t lose his grip on Brandon’s face with his feet. Brandon grasped the base of Ethan’s cock with his feet, wrapping his big and second toes around the base of Ethan’s shaft, scratching at Ethan’s pubes with his other toes. He then grasped the rest of Ethan’s shaft between his wristfoot arches, and started slowly moving his arches up and down Ethan’s shaft.
“Like this?” he asked, eyes sparkling as he watched Ethan’s reaction.
“Oh, fuck…” Ethan said, rolling his head back. “I–I’m not gonna last long, babe, this is too much… your feet are too much…” he panted, his feet pressing harder against Brandon’s face, his toes squirming and flexing more or less uncontrollably at this point.
His cock was wrapped up between four sexy Brandon-feet—this scenario had only entered his wildest dreams, but here he was, living it!
“Do it, Eth,” said Brandon, fascinated and supremely turned on by Ethan’s reaction to his feet, and by Ethan’s writhing feet on his face. “Cum all over my feet!” He started stroking Ethan’s cock faster and faster with his arches.
“Fuck!” Ethan cried out. Brandon’s encouragement was all he needed. He came in volleys all over Brandon’s wristfoot toes and soles, even getting some on his regular feet. He moaned in an almost delirious way, he was so overcome with arousal, and happiness, and love for Brandon’s feet, that he couldn’t form words. And throughout it all, his toes danced in front of Brandon’s eyes.
Brandon turned his face and kissed the sole of Ethan’s flexing foot, nuzzling it and licking it as Ethan finished spasming and cumming. He lifted up his wristfeet and laughed. They were criss-crossed with Ethan’s cum, on his toes, his arches, his soles, and his heels. He lifted one of his wristfeet to his mouth and licked some of Ethan’s cum off his sole. “Mmmm,” he said, grinning down at Ethan. “The best dessert!”
“Got enough to share?” Ethan asked, grinning slyly as he came down from his high, eyeing Brandon’s three remaining feet. “Then maybe you can make my feet a little messy…” he added with a wink.
Brandon’s eyes widened and he grinned as he continued to lick his wristfoot clean. He extended his legs, sliding his feet up Ethan’s torso to near his head, and reached out with his free wristfoot as well. “Take your pick!”
Chuckling, Ethan grabbed Brandon’s ankles. “I’ve given your wristfeet plenty of attention… besides, I love seeing you give them attention yourself… time I gave your anklefeet the same attention!”
He started playfully licking at Brandon’s toes, the objective less to clean them and more to just lick every inch of the gorgeous feet.
“Oooh!” Brandon shuddered feeling Ethan’s tongue bathing his feet. He brought his other wristfoot to his face and happily licked them both clean, loving the feeling of all four of his feet getting attention, and savouring every last drop of Ethan’s cum that he sucked from his toes.
Ethan couldn’t help but cheekily press his feet directly over Brandon’s face once Brandon’s wristfeet were clean. He continued licking Brandon’s anklefeet as he slowly dragged his own feet down Brandon’s face, toes lingering at his lips for a moment, before pulling them down his neck and onto his chest, heading towards his prize that was currently trying its best to burst out of Brandon’s pants.
Brandon licked at Ethan’s feet, sucking at his toes as they passed, trying to grab Ethan’s ankles and lift Ethan’s feet back up to his face, but Ethan’s legs easily slipped from his wristfeet and continued down Brandon’s chest and torso, to his pants where his cock, which had been awaiting Ethan’s touch all day, strained at its confines.
“I got it, Brandon,” Ethan said, struggling to open Brandon’s shorts with his feet. For Brandon, using his wristfeet was difficult, but at least he had the benefit of having them on his wrists, making them easier to manoeuvre. Using feet on his legs was proving very difficult for Ethan—but he just laughed as he accidentally pressed down on Brandon’s bulging crotch—he was giving his boyfriend a taste of his own medicine.
Brandon moaned at the touch of Ethan’s sole on his cock through the fabric, and without thinking dropped his wristfoot onto Ethan’s foot, holding it there, and humping Ethan’s sole.
“Mmm… you like my feet on your cock, babe?” Ethan asked teasingly. “Close your eyes, and just imagine…imagine that those feet you feel were on my wrists…” Ethan found himself imagining it too, and his spent cock was stirring again at the thought.
Brandon closed his eyes and groaned, pressing on Ethan’s foot with his wristfoot and humping Ethan’s foot harder, almost cumming. The thought of Ethan with wristfeet was beautiful; he would look so sexy with two more of his feet on his wrists, replacing his hands. Then every time Ethan touched Brandon, it would be with his feet.
With Brandon’s eyes closed, it was so easy to imagine that the foot he was humping and the foot that was fumbling at his flies were Ethan’s wristfeet.
“Fuck…” panted Brandon, “Ethan… I can’t…”
“It’s okay,” Ethan cooed, “It’s your turn now… cum for me! Cum for my feet!”
Brandon, eyes still closed, envisioning Ethan’s wristfeet, grabbed Ethan’s foot hard with his own wristfoot, and came, over and over, drenching the insides of his boxers with his cum, soaking through onto his pants, making them damp and sticky against the sole of Ethan’s foot.
Ethan kept pressing his feet against the growing damp spot in Brandon’s crotch until his orgasm had died down. Internally, he’d made a decision: he was definitely going to become wristfooted at some point.
Brandon’s cum had leaked out onto his soles, and, grinning, Ethan lifted his legs and wriggled his toes at Brandon. “Well…you did want to lick my feet…”
Brandon supported Ethan’s ankles with his wristfeet and pulled both of Ethan’s soles to his face, eagerly licking every inch of both, from the heels, all the way up to the balls and under the toes, then licking and sucking Ethan’s toes like the tastiest treats ever.
“Mmmm,” mumbled Brandon, his mouth wrapped around one of Ethan’s big toes.
Ethan smiled, humming contentedly as he felt Brandon licking at his feet. He pressed them against Brandon’s face again, liking feeling him through his feet. “Looks like someone’s gonna need a change of clothes…” He teased, eyeing Brandon’s crotch.
Brandon laughed. “Yeah! Does LifeWithWristfeet or your porn star guy have any tips for getting undressed for sex? This is going to be a real problem when you’re wristfooted, too.” Brandon held both of Ethan’s feet against his face with his wristfeet, and kissed Ethan’s left sole.
Ethan chuckled, but blushed at Brandon’s wording. When you’re wristfooted. It was a certainty. “There are some general dressing and undressing tips on LifeWithWristfeet… of course, he can’t get into how to undress in the heat of the moment on YouTube. And Max, the porn star, his videos aren’t typically… instructional,” he chuckled.
Brandon laughed. “Maybe we should email him!” Brandon started mimicking typing with his wristfeet toes.
“Dear Max, My boyfriend and I have eight feet and no hands and turn each other on so much we can’t even get undressed before we’re cumming from each other’s feet. Do you have any advice or should we just stop wearing clothes? Love, Ethan and Brandon.” He kissed Ethan’s sole again to punctuate the email.
Ethan gave a long laugh at this, clutching his chest. “Oh, man, if wearing no clothes was a viable option, you bet your ass I’d have you naked every day. Bare body to go with your four bare feet!” he said, half-jokingly. “Now, for real though, do you wanna get out of those pants?”
Brandon laughed, clasped Ethan’s feet against his face one last time with his wristfeet, and kissed both soles. “Yeah, it’s getting a little uncomfortable,” Brandon admitted. “Can you help me?”
Ethan gave Brandon’s anklefeet each a kiss before sitting up. “Sure thing, babe. Gotta make the most of my hands while I still have them!”
He undid Brandon’s pants and helped pull them down, pausing when they were bunched around his ankles to give his feet kisses yet again. He did the same thing with Brandon’s boxers, and then grabbed the hem of Brandon’s shirt.
“Arms up!” he said, grinning. “What, you thought I was joking about the naked thing?”
Brandon smiled and leaned forward to give Ethan a quick kiss, excited to hear Ethan talk about becoming wristfooted, before raising his arms and his big heavy wristfeet high over his head.
“Sounds good to me!”
Ethan lifted Brandon’s shirt up and over his head, pulling it up his arms until it was bunched around his wrists, then pulled those wristfeet down to kiss them before he stripped the shirt completely off. Now he had Brandon nude and four-footed—just how he liked him.
He pushed Brandon gently but firmly back against the couch, laying him down, and lay down next to him, pulling Brandon’s arm around him by the wristfoot so they were spooning. He idly rubbed the wristfoot in front of him, smiling. “You’re perfect, Brandon,” he said, turning to kiss him again.
“I love you so much, Ethan,” Brandon murmured against Ethan’s cheek. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Brandon flexed the foot in Ethan’s hand, and wiggled the toes of the wristfoot sticking out from Brandon’s arm cradling Ethan’s head, and intertwined his legs with Ethan’s so that Brandon’s and Ethan’s feet all rested together, gently brushing each other.
“I love you too,” Ethan replied, rubbing his feet against Brandon’s. They lay together on the couch for some time, just talking about feet and enjoying Brandon’s wristfeet together.
Eventually Ethan turned, kissed Brandon on the cheek, and sat up, stretching. “So… want to watch some of these wristfoot videos I’ve been talking about?” he asked, grinning. “I’ll fire up my laptop! What do you want to see first?”
Brandon grinned, sat up and stretched as well, reaching wide with his heavy wristfeet and flexing the toes, accidentally almost knocking over a lamp on the table beside the couch. Brandon laughed. “Maybe I should watch LifeWithWristfeet. I need all the help I can get with these big, clumsy things!” He held up his wristfeet to Ethan together, soles up, wiggling his toes.
Ethan giggled, grabbing the wristfeet. “Well, first thing to learn—spatial awareness!” he said, shaking the feet for emphasis.
“These big stompers are much longer than your hands, and you’re gonna have to get used to it! Heh, that’s something Alex says. He’s the guy from LifeWithWristfeet. Come on, I’ll show you!”
Ethan started pulling Brandon by one wristfoot through to his bedroom where he kept his laptop.
Brandon let himself be led by his wristfoot, laughing as he followed, naked, watching Ethan’s beautiful bare feet padding on the floor. Brandon used his other wristfoot to cradle Ethan’s cute ass in his arch as they walked.
Ethan loved feeling Brandon’s feet on him. He patted the wristfoot on his ass affectionately, before gently pulling it away, kissing it, so he could sit down at his desk.
He flipped open his laptop as Brandon sat on the edge of Ethan’s bed, and crossed one leg over the other. While Ethan searched for the video, Brandon pressed his wristfoot against his anklefoot, enjoying having his two feet against each other, feeling his foot through his wristfoot. He wiggled the toes against each other, loving how they lined up exactly, and how good his soft soles and heels felt pressed together. He looked down at Ethan’s feet and imagined pressing his wristfeet against those beautiful feet. They wouldn’t match exactly, but they’d feel so good!
After a few keystrokes, Ethan arrived at the LifeWithWristfeet channel, and brought up the videos tab. All of Alex’s videos had titles explaining what he was doing in them, so there were titles like “I Brush My Teeth With My Wristfeet!” and “I Fold My Laundry With My Wristfeet!”—and Ethan had watched all of them.
“OK where would you like to start?” Ethan asked, turning his chair around to see Brandon with his foot and his wristfoot, sole to sole. His gaze was also drawn to Brandon’s bare crotch where—
“Wow, babe, hard again already?” Ethan chuckled.
Brandon looked down at his hard cock, and laughed. “Yeah, I am. My feet were turning me on, but then I saw that list and I want to see him do all those things with wristfeet. Partly because I need the tips and advice, but also because his wristfeet look really sexy.”
Brandon was looking at the freeze frame of Alex grinning at the camera, his wristfeet held soles up, toes flexed. Brandon didn’t say it, but he was also turned on that Ethan had watched all of these, probably multiple times, probably while playing with himself. Brandon’s cock throbbed and drooled imagining Ethan pleasuring himself, Ethan’s toes curling under his desk, while he watched Alex use his beautiful wristfeet.
“They are pretty sexy,” Ethan agreed. He grinned and leaned over, rubbing the foot and wristfoot Brandon was holding together. “Not as sexy as yours though!” He went back to the laptop and opened up one of the videos, which started playing. Alex waved a wristfoot sole at the camera and made a peace sign with his big and second toes, his other toes curled over.
“What’s up guys, I’m Alex, and this is my life with wristfeet!” he said enthusiastically. “Today I’m going to be showing you how I type with my toes!”
Ethan grinned slyly at Brandon. “Thought you should start with this one, based on your text from earlier…”
Brandon groaned, and covered his face with both wristfeet. “I was obsessing over that typo…” Then he dropped his wristfeet back to his lap, revealing a grin. “Still, if you think that was bad, remind me to show you the first text I sent to Mark.”
In the video, Alex continued, sitting down in front of a computer with a keyboard. “There are a lot of devices to type on these days, but I figured I’d start with one of the easiest ones: a full-sized keyboard.” Alex gestured to the keyboard with his feet.
“The keys are large enough that I can type with my big toes without hitting multiple keys.”
Alex moved his feet to the keyboard, and started pecking at the keys with his big toes, with is feet slightly curled and his heels resting on the desk in front of the keyboard, moving his feet quickly and smoothly, sliding his heels back and forth on the desk in front of the keyboard slightly, without having to hunt down each key. He’d clearly had a lot of practice. A small picture-in-picture popped up, showing what he was typing—’typing with my wristfeet’.
“My little toes are pretty good at hitting the shift keys when I need them,” Alex went on. He hit the right shift key with his right little toe, and added an exclamation point to his sentence using his left big toe. ‘typing with my wristfeet!’
“Of course what I’m not showing you is how many takes it took to get that one sentence down without typos!” The video quickly cut to a series of outtakes, with the same picture-in-picture, but shot with a close-up of Alex’s wristfeet on the keyboard:
‘typign with my wirist ‘—“Haha!”
The video cut back to Alex grinning at the camera. “But if I take it slow, and make liberal use of the backspace key, I’ll eventually get my message across!”
“I love this one,” Ethan said, smiling fondly. “I think it’s so cute how he shows us his outtakes. I mean, it’s understandable, wristfeet are feet! It would be unrealistic to think he could do it perfectly first try.”
Back in the video, Alex was now holding his phone. He had the back of the phone flat against the sole of his left wristfoot, holding it in place with his big and little toes either side of it. It looked like he was having to grip it pretty tightly between those toes to keep it held there.
“Now, for a real challenge—texting!” Alex said—and the stereotypical YouTuber background music stopped abruptly as he dropped his phone. Alex held his toes to his lips in shock as he stared down at the floor, which wasn’t visible in this video.
Someone off camera said, “Don’t worry, it didn’t break!” and Alex sighed with relief, theatrically wiping his forehead with the back of a foot.
“Phew! I’m leaving that bit in—that was too funny!”
There was an edit blip and Alex was again there with his phone gripped against his sole. It looked like he was gripping it ever tighter this time. Text briefly popped up at the bottom of the video with arrows pointing downwards: “Safety net just off camera.”
“Now, for a real challenge,” said Alex, again, “texting!” The camera zoomed in on his phone as he used the big toe of his other wristfoot to try to type.
“Fszfivc sccy afhsgcs”
“So,” explained Alex, my big toe isn’t great for this, with the small buttons on-screen, so I usually try to use my little toe instead, although that means even more of my foot is in the way and it’s harder to see the keyboard.”
“Texrung wkfb wrisfeef”
Alex laughed. “Sometimes autocorrect actually figures that out! And yes, my phone knows the word ‘wristfeet’ very well. I think it’s the top suggestion when I hit the W!”
Alex tried to demonstrate this, aiming for the W key with his little toe, but accidentally hit the T key instead. The top three suggested words, as seen in the close up, were ‘Toes’, ‘Tongue’, and ‘Taste.’
“Oops!” Alex laughed, blushing a little. “Let’s try that again!”
He managed to hit the backspace key, but when he tried again he hit S instead—’Sole’, ‘Soft’, ‘Smooth.’
Laughing, he erased that too and finally managed to hit the W key. Sure enough, the top three words his phone predicted were ‘Wristfoot’, ‘Wristfeet’, and ‘Wristfooted.’
Alex grinned, and the camera zoomed back out to show Alex still gripping the phone with his foot. “So autocorrect can be a big help, but so that I don’t have to bring a safety net everywhere…” the camera zoomed out further to show the chair with a pillow on it set up to catch Alex’s phone “…I usually find putting my phone down to text makes it easier.”
The scene changed to show Alex sitting at a desk, phone in front of him, picking out letters carefully with the little toe of one foot while the big toe of his other foot rested against his lips, which were pressed firmly together in concentration. Brandon laughed.
“That was pretty much me, trying to text you back this morning,” he said, grinning at Ethan.
“Yeah?” Ethan chuckled, “Toe to your lips and everything? Guess you got this wristfoot thing all figured out then!” he joked.
His eyes were again drawn to Brandon’s cock, which by now was huge and throbbing from watching Alex fumble around with his big, sexy wristfeet. Ethan was hard too—wristfeet just did that to him. He got even harder when Brandon started to absentmindedly stroke his shaft with his toes.
“Say… want to watch the other guy I know about with wristfeet?” Ethan asked, grinning, opening his favorites tab where at the top he clicked the first link—taking him to the creatively named fourfootedfucker.com.
Brandon laughed at the name, but his cock throbbed, realizing that “four-footed” described him now too. And then his cock throbbed again when the site loaded, and he saw the guy Ethan had told him about, naked, hard, lying on his back, all four feet displayed for the camera.
“Wow,” he muttered, unconsciously moving his wristfoot back to his cock, shivering as his toes gently brushed his shaft.
“I don’t normally pay subscriptions for porn sites, but how could I not for this guy?” Ethan asked, starting to rub the bulge in his pants. He smirked at Brandon’s burgeoning self-footjob. “Well, maybe I should cancel that subscription… since I’ve got my own four-footed fucker right here!” he laughed.
Brandon blushed and grinned, his toes curling against his cock. “I think… I think supporting this guy is good though. Helping a fellow wristfooter. And he’s… really hot. Almost as hot as you’d be with wristfeet.”
Ethan moaned lightly at the thought of having wristfeet. It was something he’d pictured many times before, but only today, only through hearing Brandon talk about him being wristfooted, had he reached the decision to go through with it.
“Babe… wanna watch one of this guy’s videos, and… jerk each other off?” He asked, blushing.
Brandon grinned and held his big wristfeet up. “I may be a little clumsy,” Brandon said, winking.
“You’ll do fine!” Ethan laughed. He clicked his favourite video on and moved to sit next to Brandon on the bed, shucking his pants as he did so.
The video started innocently enough—if anything could look innocent when wristfeet were involved. Sitting shirtless at a kitchen island counter was the four-footed star, Max, looking bored, holding his face between his sexy wristfeet as he leaned on his elbows.
Max lowered a wristfoot and drummed his toes on the counter, before theatrically holding the sole to his bare stomach.
“Hmm, I’m hungry…” he said, reaching with both feet to the fruit bowl where he grabbed a banana between his soles.
He lifted the banana to his mouth and snagged the end of it in his teeth, tearing the peel open. Then, still holding the banana between his soles, he slowly, suggestively, starting peeling down sections of the skin with his teeth, before giving the top of the banana an experimental lick, the toes of his wristfeet curling and flexing. He then started sliding the banana into his mouth and out, a little deeper each time, until the banana was in as far as it could go, and the arches of his feet were up against his face.
“What do you think so far?” Ethan asked, reaching over and grabbing Brandon’s cock, gently rubbing the shaft.
Max continued deep-throating the banana for a moment, pausing now and then to give it a long lick that often continued over his own toes, before finally taking a bite. He carefully wedged the bottom of the banana between the big and second toe of his left wristfoot, and pinched off another section of banana with the toes of his right.
Brandon, biting his lip, reached over with one wristfoot and gently brushed Ethan’s cock with his toes, rubbing his big toe around Ethan’s cockhead. Ethan shuddered and moaned at the touch of Brandon’s toes, his cock swelling at their soft caress.
“I’m learning a lot about eating bananas,” mumbled Brandon, his gaze switching between Max on the screen, and Ethan’s hard cock against his foot.
Max gave the section of banana a good, long lick, before pushing it into his mouth with his toes, chewing, swallowing theatrically, and then carefully licking each of his toes clean. He continued to slowly eat his treat, always licking at his feet as he did so, until he tossed the empty banana peel over his shoulder and just started licking his wristfeet all over, moaning as he did so, the camera moving to show he’d been sitting at the counter nude this whole time, lingering for a moment on his throbbing cock, dripping with pre.
“R-remind me to buy some bananas for you…” Ethan panted.
Max’s other feet curled and flexed also while he licked his wristfeet all over, heels to toes. He then started sucking each of his toes, taking particular time with his big toes, sucking and licking them like cocks.
Brandon’s cock throbbed and drooled in Ethan’s hand, and he tried to “grab” Ethan’s cock tighter, but just ended up batting it around with his clumsy foot. He went back to just gently brushing Ethan’s cock with his toes, getting Ethan’s precum all over them.
Even the clumsy motions of Brandon’s wristfoot were driving Ethan wild. When Brandon’s foot slipped and accidentally batted Ethan’s cock, it didn’t hurt—the sole was too soft and Brandon was too gentle with it. It just aroused Ethan further.
For Max, it looked like he couldn’t hold out much longer, as he turned on his stool to face the camera full on, grabbing his cock between the arches of his wristfeet, moaning as he started pumping them slowly up and down the shaft.
Brandon was incredibly turned on watching another wristfooted guy jerk off, and incredibly turned on feeling Ethan’s hand on his cock, and phenomenally turned on feeling his foot and toes on Ethan’s cock. It was a bit awkward to reach over to Ethan with both wristfeet, but Brandon grabbed Ethan’s cock between his arches, much like he’d done before and like Max was doing now, stroking his soles up and down Ethan’s shaft, and brushing Ethan’s cockhead.
Ethan saw what Brandon was trying to do, and gasped. It gave him an idea, and he placed his hands on the big, handsome feet in his crotch, gently guiding them away.
“Wait, babe, I wanna try something…”
He stood up, and motioned for Brandon to move a little further back on the bed—giving Ethan enough space to sit down in front of him, between his legs. He could feel Brandon’s cock against his back, and he leaned into it, turning his head to kiss Brandon while his hands found those beautiful wristfeet again, pulling Brandon’s arms around him. “What do you think?” He said. “Almost looks like I really have wristfeet…”
Brandon flexed his toes and kissed Ethan’s ear. “You’re gonna be so sexy with wristfeet,” he murmured.
Brandon let Ethan guide his wristfeet back to Ethan’s cock. He nibbled on Ethan’s ear as he grasped Ethan’s cock between his arches again, and started stroking him up and down. Ethan withdrew his hands as soon as Brandon had a grip on his cock. When he looked down it really was like he was jerking himself off with a pair of sexy wristfeet… he should be so lucky to have wristfeet like Brandon’s. He found himself bucking his hips against the feet, moaning and panting, but he could still feel Brandon’s cock pressing into his back…
…well, why not do something about that?
“B–Brandon—s–stop for a second,” he panted.
On the screen Max had already ejaculated all over his own wristfeet and was enthusiastically licking them clean, but at this point Ethan was too enraptured with Brandon to care.
He stood up and tossed his shirt quickly, now as nude as his boyfriend, and he quickly fished around in the drawer of the bedside table—pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom.
“Think you can manage this?” he asked, smirking, as he tossed the condom to Brandon.
Brandon caught the condom between his wristfeet with a soft paff, and laughed, opening up his soles and looking at the wrapped condom lying on one of them. He tried a couple of times to pick it up with the toes of his other foot, but just scrabbled his toes around his sole and knocked the condom into the sheets of the bed.
Brandon laughed again, and used the toes of both feet to lift it up to his mouth, snagging a corner of the wrapper between his teeth, and then pulling away with his toes. On the first try, the wrapper just slipped from his toes, but on the second try, it started tearing! Eventually Brandon got it open, and let it drop from his teeth back down on the bed. He attacked the wrapper with the toes of both feet again, trying to coax the condom out of the wrapper. It took some doing, but it was finally out. Brandon, grinning, held the condom up on one wristfoot sole to Ethan, but then looked down at his cock, wondering how he’d get it on.
Carefully, he tried holding the condom between the big toes of both of his wristfeet. It dropped a couple of times, but eventually he lifted it up, and managed to place it on his cockhead. Then, he carefully started using his toes to try to unroll it down his cock, grunting and even moaning at the touch of his toes on his cock.
The first couple of tries, the condom slid right off his cock, carried by his clumsy feet, and he had to start over, but on the third try, he managed to unroll enough to keep it in place, and then used all his toes to finish rolling the condom down his cock, groaning as he did so from the feeling of all his toes running down his shaft. Then he looked back up at Ethan, wristfeet held out, grinning.
Ethan had been stroking himself at the display Brandon had been giving him. And then, fuck, Brandon gave him that triumphant grin, and he looked so damn cute whenever he figured out how to do something with wristfeet for the first time.
“You’re not quite done yet…” Ethan said, grinning back. He took the lube and squeezed some onto his fingers, and was about to pass the bottle to Brandon when he stopped, and closed the cap, his grin getting wider. Then he tossed the bottle towards Brandon, using his free hand with the lube to start rubbing his hole, preparing himself.
Brandon laughed, trying to catch the bottle between his wristfeet but missing. “Just wait ‘til you’re wristfooted!” He picked up the bottle between his wristfeet and looked at the cap, trying to work out how to open it. Eventually he was able to prop the bottle against one foot and use the toes of the other to pop the cap open.
Brandon grasped the bottle between the toes of both wristfeet, accidentally squeezing some lube out onto his feet. “Oops,” he said, as he brought the bottle over to his cock. Unfortunately, the bottle was aimed up between his feet, but he was able to turn them enough to squeeze out lube onto his cock… and onto his wristfeet, his crotch, his upper thighs, and the bed. Eventually the lube slipped from his grasp, and he just started running his slick, wet toes up and down his condom-wrapped cock.
Ethan just chuckled, quickly picking up the slippery bottle and closing the cap. “We’ll clean it up later…” he said, watching Brandon run his lube-slick toes across his cock. “But right now…” He turned, and crouched over a little, sliding Brandon’s cock between his cheeks a little to tease him.
“You gonna do it, four-footed fucker?” he asked, smirking back at Brandon.
Brandon’s cock throbbed and he humped Ethan’s crack as he brought the slick arches of his wristfeet to Ethan’s waist. He positioned his cockhead at Ethan’s hole and pushed in, all twenty of his toes curling.
“Fuck, Ethan… yes. I’ll be your four-footed fucker.”
Ethan groaned as he slowly lowered himself onto Brandon’s length, having to adjust a couple of times before he could take it to the hilt. He loved the way Brandon’s wristfeet felt on his hips, toes curling against him… but it wasn’t where he wanted them. He took hold of Brandon’s wrists, and pulled them around to press the soft, lubed-up arches of Brandon’s wristfeet back around his eager cock. He moaned again, and slowly started moving himself up and down, simultaneously fucking Brandon’s wristfeet, and fucking himself on Brandon’s cock.
He panted as he turned his head to face his lover. “S–soon… I’ll be your four-footed fucker, too…” he breathed.
Brandon’s lips parted and he let out a moan, his cock throbbing in Ethan’s ass as he saw the intent and excitement in Ethan’s eyes. He pressed his wristfeet tighter around Ethan’s cock. “I can’t wait to see you four-footed,” he said, bucking into Ethan’s hole, trying to pick up the pace.
“Ah! Fuck!” Ethan moaned, steadying himself, his hands tightly gripping Brandon’s thighs. “I… I wanna be four-footed… for you…” he panted. “I want to—Mmf! I want to touch you with my wristfeet…”
He couldn’t take his eyes off of Brandon’s wristfeet around his cock, imagining they were his wristfeet, a fantasy that he’d jerked off to many times before, but seemed closer than ever.
“Fuck… Ethan…” Brandon was bucking faster and faster, ploughing Ethan’s hole, and forcing Ethan’s cock to slide back and forth between his slick arches. Brandon was imagining Ethan touching him with his wristfeet, pressing them sole to sole with Brandon’s wristfeet, toes brushing, cupping Brandon’s face with them, resting them on Brandon’s shoulders, teasing Brandon’s nipples, grabbing Brandon’s cock—!
With a shout, Brandon rammed his cock hard into Ethan’s ass and started cumming, all twenty of his toes curling, his lube-drenched wristfeet pressing tight around Ethan’s cock.
Ethan cried out, an unintelligible moan, as the soft, slick wristfeet squeezed his cock. He felt Brandon’s cock pulsing inside him, and it drove him over the edge—he came, covering Brandon’s wristfeet for the second time that day, sending ropes of cum over the toes and even up onto Ethan’s chest. He felt weak as he kept cumming, falling back into Brandon’s chest, panting, his fingers and toes curling.
“I… I love you Brandon…” was all he could manage.
Brandon fell back on the bed with Ethan on top of him. He moved his head up and kissed Ethan’s ear again.
“I love you, Ethan,” he murmured into his lover’s ear. Brandon’s brushed his slick wristfeet over Ethan’s softening cock, and slid them up Ethan’s torso, wrapping his arms around him, hugging him tight, his cock still lodged in Ethan’s ass.
The two boys lay together like that for a while; Brandon spooning Ethan, Ethan softly playing with the wristfeet held against him. Ethan just wanted to fall asleep like that, but knew they’d have to clean up first. He brought the huge wristfeet to his face and slowly licked them clean, as Brandon’s cock softened, making some shifting and adjusting necessary for comfort.
Brandon’s cock slid out of Ethan’s ass as Brandon enjoyed the attention Ethan was giving his wristfeet. He moved his other feet to brush back and forth against Ethan’s feet, sole to top, top to sole, toes brushing over each other, and kissed Ethan’s ear again. Ethan chuckled, and turned to kiss Brandon on the cheek, before he sat up.
“Come on, foot-boy, let’s get cleaned up. Then we can take a nap together. You be the big spoon again—I like having your wristfeet in front of me!” he said.
Brandon laughed. “Is that all I am to you? Just a set of four feet?” Brandon placed his wristfeet on Ethan’s back, massaging him, while still massaging Ethan’s feet with his.
Ethan looked almost hurt at the suggestion, but the expression quickly faded with the ministrations of Brandon’s wristfeet on his back—even if the massage was, of course, pretty clumsy.
“Don’t be silly, babe… I was mad about you even before you turned your hands into feet…” he said. “Your wristfeet are like an added bonus… the cherry on top of the ice cream that is you!”
Brandon grinned, and pushed Ethan up to stand with his wristfeet, and then stood up beside him, wrapping one wristfooted arm around his shoulders. “I’ve been mad about you for so long, and I will be even if you decide not to get wristfeet… but I really hope you do.” He kissed Ethan on the cheek.
“Well, you don’t need to worry then… I’ll book a procedure tomorrow! I want wristfeet as soon as possible, now that I know you like them too,” Ethan said, walking them both to the bathroom.
“Book a procedure?” mumbled Brandon.
Of course, that made sense. Alex and Max didn’t get their wristfeet from genies, they got them from a doctor. Brandon wondered how complicated the procedure was.
But he was distracted by Ethan’s ass, patting it with his wristfoot as Ethan bent over to turn on the shower.
Ethan let out a little yelp, and turned back to Brandon, blushing, as the shower started behind him. Then his brow furrowed when he realized what Brandon had said.
“Yeah, you know… isn’t that what you did? To get these?” he asked, grabbing and lifting Brandon’s wristfeet for emphasis.
“Um…” said Brandon, blushing and looking away nervously. Could he really tell Ethan this story?
“No? I don’t know if you’ll believe what happened.”
Ethan smiled at what he thought was shyness on Brandon’s part.
“Try me,” he said, lifting Brandon’s wristfeet and kissing the toes. “I promise I’ll believe you.”
Brandon curled his toes against Ethan’s lips. “My uncle sent me this old lamp, like, really old. Like, looked like it could have a genie in it… and it did.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “A genie, huh?” he said, trying to keep his tone from sounding disbelieving. “So…you wished for wristfeet? I mean…I can’t blame you!”
Brandon blushed. “No. I didn’t even know about wristfeet then. I wished… I wished I’d be irresistible… to you.” Brandon nervously met Ethan’s eyes, hoping his reaction wouldn’t be bad.
Ethan’s eyes widened as he realized what that meant. Brandon had unintentionally wished his hands away, just so Ethan would find him more attractive… he couldn’t hold back the laugh that came next.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” he said, giggling. “It’s just… I mean it is kinda funny… cause I already thought you were super hot!” He smiled. “But I guess you did get your wish, cause somehow I managed to resist you before… and now, well…” He held Brandon’s wristfeet by the heels, and lovingly pressed his face into the soles. “You really are irresistible…” he mumbled through the feet.
Brandon’s heart fluttered, and he curled his toes against Ethan’s forehead. “I’m so glad you like me this way,” he said, keeping his feet on Ethan’s face, and stepping forward to kiss Ethan’s lips between his soles.
“I love you this way,” Ethan said as they parted, and he pulled Brandon by the wristfeet into the shower with him. He leaned in once they were under the water and whispered into Brandon’s ear, “Now, please rub those soles all over me, babe…”
Brandon gladly followed Ethan’s request, rubbing his wristfeet up and down Ethan’s arms, over his shoulders, down his back, grabbing Ethan’s ass with his soles and pulling Ethan into another kiss there under the spray. He pulled back and moved his feet up to Ethan’s chest, rubbing his feet back and forth across it, rinsing the cum and lube away, occasionally teasing Ethan’s nipples with his toes.
Throughout the experience, Ethan happily cooed and moaned, and kissed Brandon. He in turn helped rub Brandon’s body down, but felt like his hands were far inferior to the soft soles massaging him.
“Bet you can’t wait for me to do this to you…” he said, as he caught a wandering wristfoot and kissed the sole.
Brandon’s cock lurched as he imagined Ethan rubbing wristfeet all over him. The condom started to slide off his dick. He grasped Ethan’s cock between his toes, ostensibly to help rinse off the lube and cum.
Ethan gasped again, his cock hardening once more between Brandon’s toes. “I c–can’t wait either…” he said, sliding the condom off Brandon’s dick and starting to rub the head. “Cause then, this’d be a footjob for you, too…”
Brandon shuddered and his cock hardened.
“When you’re four-footed, I don’t think we’ll be able to stop having sex,” Brandon chuckled, squeezing Ethan’s cock between his toes and leaning in to kiss him, stepping closer so that the toes of their feet on the floor of the shower brushed together.
Ethan rubbed his toes against Brandon’s, revelling in the thought of having twice as many toes, of rubbing his wristfoot toes together with Brandon’s. He chuckled in return. “You say that like it’s a bad thing…” he joked.
“Never a bad thing, with you,” Brandon said, grinning, followed by a whimper as Ethan’s toes brushed over his, and he imagined pressing his wristfeet against Ethan’s wristfeet, his feet against Ethan’s feet, all of their toes touching, Ethan’s feet jerking his cock.
“Ethan, fuck, I’m gonna…” Brandon was already starting to lose it.
Ethan didn’t say anything, he just thrust his cock between Brandon’s toes and stroked Brandon’s cock faster. Those wristfeet were like an aphrodisiac, he’d never been turned on for so long, or cum so much… and he loved them for it.
As he wondered how it would feel to rub Brandon’s cock through wristfeet, he started cumming. Brandon, imagining the same thing from the other side, started cumming as well, all over Ethan’s hands, and even some on his wristfeet. Brandon leaned in and kissed Ethan as they panted from their third orgasm in rapid succession.
“Love you, babe,” he said, squeezing Ethan’s cock between his toes.
Ethan quivered and smiled. “Love you too.”
They stared at each other for a moment, smiling.
Then Ethan looked down. “Uh…we should probably actually get clean now…” he said, and started laughing. They’d come in here to clean the cum off, but had only succeeded in getting more covered in it!
Brandon laughed and licked some of their cum off his wristfoot, grinning at Ethan as he did so. “Okay, I’ll be good.” When Ethan looked skeptical, he pressed his big toe to his chest and made an X. “Cross my heart!”
Ethan chuckled, and the two of them helped each other shower off. Ethan didn’t really need any help from Brandon, but he loved being lathered up by his wristfeet all the same. They rinsed off and finished their shower, and Ethan grabbed a couple of towels for them, passing one to Brandon.
Brandon grabbed it between both feet. Even though he’d dried off after his shower this morning, it wasn’t much easier this time. Brandon didn’t mind though. He dropped the towel a couple of times, chuckling each time, and snagging it back up by hooking one wristfoot under it, continuing to dry himself off. When he was finally mostly dry, he tried to hang the towel up. It took some fumbling with his feet, but he eventually got it to hang mostly straight.
“Mmm… I swear, everything you do with those wristfeet turns me on,” Ethan hummed. He’d enjoyed watching his boyfriend fumbling with the towel and rubbing it over his body with those big, clumsy feet. Having dried himself off, he grabbed one of the dangling feet to pull Brandon back through to the bedroom where he let out a yawn, stretching.
“I know it’s early, but I’m beat… I mean, you made me cum three times in such a short time… I’m exhausted.” He fell forward onto the bed, face down. “Gonna join me?” he asked, heavily muffled.
Brandon smiled. Yesterday, Brandon had just been hoping to have a nice lunch with Ethan. Now, they’d had sex three times, and here Ethan was, naked, inviting Brandon into his bed. Brandon lay down beside Ethan, propped up his right elbow, right wristfoot lying sole up on the bed, and slowly rubbed his left wristfoot up and down Ethan’s bare back, before sliding a little closer, sliding his right wristfoot under Ethan, and wrapping his left arm around him. Brandon’s feet sought out Ethan’s feet as their legs intertwined.
Ethan happily rubbed his slender feet against Brandon’s. It excited him to think he’d soon be getting two more of his feet, but he sighed inwardly at the thought of having to arrange the procedure, the cost, how long it would all take…
But it would be worth it. He shifted and pressed his back against Brandon’s chest, kissing the two gorgeous wristfeet in front of him, forcing his eyes to stay open just so he could keep looking at the smooth, perfect soles.
He also noticed something odd—on a shelf at the other side of the room, there was something Ethan didn’t recognise. It looked sort of like a lamp… he immediately recalled what Brandon had told him about how he got his wristfeet…
He smiled, not saying anything to Brandon as he snuggled his face against Brandon’s comfy wristfeet. If that was what he thought it was, well, maybe he could get wristfeet a little sooner…