Feet Fetish

The people on my mother’s side of the family have a thing about feet. They hate dirty feet, and place them on their list of evil, along with Hitler and pedophilia.

“I just can’t stand to feel grit under my feet!” my grandma will say, as she dustpans the kitchen frantically for the tenth time that day. These words rings so true, she actually vacuums her house every day. Every…single…day. Obsessive… Compulsive… Behavior.

When visiting Grandma, before we come in from outside – wearing flip flops, we have to stop at the laundry sink and wash our feet, like people wash their hands before dinner.

This feet phobia has unfortunately filtered down through the generations. I often clean my feet with baby-wipes before bed, and my poor little aspergers cousin, can’t even walk down the driveway bare foot, because he feels so dirty.

Of course, when it comes to ‘feet loathing’, my brother, J-Rad, truly takes the cake. “They are fucking disgusting!” he’ll say, as he stuffs whole cup-cakes into his mouth, spitting out the chewed up paper in little pellets to show me.

One afternoon, our family (Dad’s side), was sitting on the living room floor, for our weekly cheese-eating ceremony, when J-Rad was going on about how much he hates feet.

My step-mum, Abby, got a glint in her eyes. “Even girls feet?” she enquired.
“All feet,” replied J-Rad. “They are just wrong, I don’t let them near me.”

This made Abby chuckle. “Your father, doesn’t mind feet at all!”

J-Rad, along with my then-boyfriend, Ralph, and I all cringed. It was no secret that Abby and Dad had a healthy sex life. They were almost a little smug about it, and why not? In their 50’s, married for thirteen years, and still lusting after one another? Unheard of!!

Once on an email up-date to friends and family about their cruising adventures, Dad signed off with the sentence “With plenty of time to make love and read, we leave you to the next update.” (None of the children replied to that one.)

“Are you saying you’d never suck on your girlfriends toes?” Abby continued.
A repulsed look from J-Rad, “Nope!”
“Well… your father likes to suck on toes," she grinned, "and let me tell you, girls like to have their toes sucked!”

This hit a nerve. At 22 years, J-Rad was always keen to find out what girls liked, and she was stirring him. (Like she does to all us kids, in a fun and affectionate manner.)

“That’s fucking disgusting!” barked J-Rad. “If my girlfriend asked me to lick her toes I’d punch her in the ovaries.”

Ha! We all knew that he would probably lick them if she was hot.

Then J-Rad asked Ralph “Would you lick someone’s dirty feet?”
“Sure,” he shrugged.
What!? I never recall having my toes licked by Ralph. That would have involved having actual foreplay… a sore topic for both of us.

I was sure J-Rad would cave for money.
“We’ll all put in cash, and give you $100 if you lick vegemite off Ralph’s feet right now” I said, daring J-Rad.
“Get fucked! Would you lick vegemite off his dirty feet?”

I looked at Ralph’s blackened foot, with his thong hanging from it.
“How much will you give me?”
“Ten bucks.”
(Tight ass!) “Alright then.” I said, like it was nothing.

I got up and smeared some vegemite across the ball of Ralph’s foot. Then took a deep breath, bent down, and licked it in front of my whole family.

J-Rad gagged, while Dad and Abby clapped and cheered.

The things I do to prove my toughness to them.

“Easiest $10 I ever made!” I said, licking my lips.

My parents were extremely proud. They knew that it took a lot of guts for me to do, and I basked in the honor and status that it immediately earned me. Plus, who doesn’t like to make their brother feel like there’s something wrong with them?

I'm also pretty sure Ralph thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Sadly, we never took that move to the bedroom. But I’m thinking vegemite on toes would be a great foreplay article to write for Cosmo magazine, if they were to ever hire me.