1. Marching Band (Part 1)


    Date: 7/2/2016, Categories: Fiction, Foot or shoe fetish, Author: FAD777, Source: sexstories.com

    Chapter 1: The Picture I sigh as I walk into the band room after a long practice. Too long, might I add. I run a hand through my black hair and start to put my instrument away. I didn't even like marching band. My parents didn't want me to go out "partying all night," or "smoking all day," so they refused to pay for college if I didn't participate in - you guessed it - the college band. And it sucks . I knew it was bad in high school, but this was ridiculous. Four hour practice? Seriously? I have classes to study for, shit to do. Anyways. I put my instrument in my locker and gather my stuff. As I step out of the locker room, I can't help but look at all the girls. Again. If you are in a marching band, you can understand why. Those band girls looove going barefoot. After practice? Barefoot. Before practice? No shoes. During practice? Sometimes. Girls laying on their stomachs, legs in the air, feet kicking, those toes just asking to be sucked. That's what makes it all worth it. I stick around for another thirty minutes or so, which is quite common. Some of these guys are like friends for life, or whatever, and they hang out whenever they can. Well, I stay with my section and just chill. We joke about dumb shit, like we do, and the whole time I'm just looking around the room. As a sophomore in college, I'm a horny devil. I need to fuck all of them. From the matured senior girls down to those beautiful fucking freshman. I look at a junior, Sydney, whose feet I've been eyeing ...
    for a while. She's a small girl, and therefore has small feet. Whenever she has a chance, she kicks her shoes off and airs those babies out. Just looking at her wiggle her toes makes me hard, and seeing everyone else pay NO attention to them literally pisses me off. How don't all guys like feet, for fucks sake?! I see a freshman, Victoria. Her long black hair runs down her back and lays riiight above her amazing ass. Like, I don't know what they put in those Wheaties nowadays, but damn do these girls have bodies. My eye catches movement by the door: our band director is coming into the room. I'm alright with him, he's a pretty cool guy, married, probably regretting going into the marching band business. I look at the clock and realize I've been here for a whole fucking hour longer than I should have. I need to go. Now. I say goodbye to my section, and reluctantly walk to the door. Here's the thing, right? I hate the band, just straight disgusts me. But the people? They're all super cool and I'm glad their my friends. I just wish we could be friends without me being in a fucking band. Luckily, there's only a few people left anyways. My section has broken off to go their own ways, and all that is left is a couple people gathering there things, including Sydney and a senior named Rebecca. Holy fuck, Becca. She is amazing. Tight body, reasonable tits, great face, AMAZING feet, whenever she shows them. Oh, yeah, and a nice personality, if that's your thing. I look away before I ...
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