Chapter 2
Without waiting for my approval, Jack began untying my sneaker. I was a little worried. Knowing we would be doing a lot of walking and then standing all night at an outdoor concert, I had decided to wear my most comfortable shoes. That happened to be my oldest and most beat up pair of classic Reeboks. They were worn and comfortable, but being tattered and overused, they tended to leave behind a slight case of foot odor. There was not much I could do about that now.
He finished untying the lace, loosened the shoe and slipped it off my foot. Having been trapped inside my shoe all day, my foot was a little sweaty. I immediately felt the air conditioned coolness of the car through my damp sock. Jack set my shoe down and began to massage my socked foot with both hands. He had strong hands and he was doing an expert job. I caught a whiff of my own musky stink and flushed a little in embarrassment. If I was noticing it across the car, what was it like for Jack, with my offending foot 9 inched below his nose? I watched him but he showed no reaction. Jack continued the massage and it felt really good. The music was still loud and I was sure that Brad and Matt had no idea about what was happening right behind them.
Jack decided it was time to remove my sock. Obviously my sock wasn’t going to get his “new shorts” dirty. He was taking charge and doing as he pleased. He hooked a finger inside and pulled it off my foot. He didn’t ask for permission and I offered no resistance. He tucked the sock neatly inside my shoe ensuring it wouldn’t get lost. What a gentleman. He looked at my newly naked foot for a moment, appraising it, or maybe planning his attack. As it happened, he didn’t attack my foot. He did tickle it lightly, but not in torturous way. He drew lines up my arch with his fingers. He rubbed my toes. He lightly scratched my calloused heel. He would tease my foot, then massage it some more. This complete stranger was being personal and sensual. I noticed that while all of this was going on, Jack had a swell in his crotch that matched my own.
When he seemed to have finished, he turned to me and said, “Your right leg looks awfully uncomfortable bent in that position. We better get you straighten out before you cramp up.”
Again, he wasn’t asking. He grasped my right ankle, lifted my foot and stretched my leg out onto his lap. He immediately began untying my shoe lace. He must have realized that these old, comfy, worn shoes just slipped right on and off without untying the laces, but I think this was all part of the performance. He slipped the right shoe off and, before setting it down, he bent back the tongue of the shoe and read my size. He looked at me, smiled and said, “Just what I thought, a perfect 10.”
The program on my right side ran in reverse of the experience from my left. Without any foreplay, the sock was coming off. Still damp with my sweat, he peeled it off my foot inside out. I saw him discreetly sneak a sniff of the toe end and his eyes widened in reaction. I too caught another whiff of my ripe scent and I again blushed in shame.
My right foot now lay in wait. Just out of its shoe and sock it was freshly moist and sensitive. Jack wasn’t as gentle on this foot. I don’t know if on my left foot he was more careful to not cause me to react in a way that might aggravate my injured knee or if he was just taking things to a higher level at this stage of his game. He started in with swipes and strokes that had me flinching and twitching. He was clearly enjoying himself and I was worried about what was to come. He did stop short of a tickle torture though and I was able to prevent myself from screaming out in laughter.
Once he was done teasing and tantalizing the new foot, he transitioned to a massage that had me once again had me closing my eyes and moaning softly in pleasure. His massaging hands eventually worked their way up my leg and things ended similarly to how they had begun.
As we got closer to our destination, I did not need to re-dress my feet. Jack took care of me. He put my socks and shoes back on for me, even retying my shoelaces. It was like I was his possession. A toy to play with. A doll to dress.
Brad parked and we got out of the car. My knee felt a little better and I walked to the venue without much incident. In the audience, we were arranged with Matt on the left, then Brad, Jack and me on the right. All through the evening, whenever Jack would talk to me he would incorporate a physical touch of some kind. Sometimes it would just be a touch on my forearm. Other times a playful nudge or a gentle punch to the shoulder. Once he placed his palm flat on my sternum and told me why a particular Garth Brooks song was his favorite.
Each time Jack needed to leave for another beer run or a bathroom trip, he would manhandle me as moved by. One time he slipped behind me and put each of his hands on my soft sides above the hips and below the ribs. He squeezed and tickled me there before removing his hands and moving on. Another time he turned his body to a 45 degree angle to shield what he did to me from Brad and Matt’s view. He slipped his hands under my shirt and performed the same maneuver on bare skin. He then slipped his hands around to my front, like a hug from behind. His hands explored my chest and stomach like a blind person using his hands to see. Next he pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, “I know you’re enjoying all of this as much as I am.” I’m sure Jack felt the goose bumps that he caused to pop up all over my body from his breathy whisper and groping hands fluttered along my sensitive lower abdomen. His dancing fingers eventually found my round, innie belly button and he gave it a swirl before removing his hands, disappearing into the crown and leaving me standing there all tingly and flushed.
At one point deep into the show, Garth did a cover of Billy Joel’s Piano Man. This was the only song I really knew all night. That song, of course, is a huge crowd favorite and the audience was participating in the performance enthusiastically. Everyone had one arm around the person next to them and the other holding up their beer as they howled along, “Sing us a song, you’re the Piano Man, Sing us a song tonight, Well we’re all in the mood for a melody, And you’ve got us feeling all right…” Jack took this opportunity to wrap his right arm around my shoulder and pull me into him. I reciprocated and embraced him back with my left arm.
It ended up being a good show, despite my preference for almost any other kind of music besides country. As we walked our way back to the car, Matt offered me the front seat for the ride back. I glanced at Jack who gave me a wink. I replied to Matt, “Thanks man, but I’m good in the back” and I winked back at Jack.
Three weeks later, Brad called me and said his cousin Jack was in town for the weekend again and he asked me if I wanted to come over for some pizza and poker. I said I’d be there. With Jack, I had no idea what the night might bring but I knew I would wear my old beat up classic Reeboks.