Lately, a near-insatiable desire to understand my own childhood foot fetish has occupied my thoughts. The fixation has profoundly shaped the paths my love quest has taken. Indeed I’ve often chosen women to date (or not) due to my estimate of how much fun worshipping their feet would be, once they came into my bed. If a lady’s feet were beautiful and enticing, of if I just imagined them to be that way, then I’d surely try and ask her out. But if not, then usually, I would not.
In my childhood foot fetish, just about all adult women had lots of power over me (as in teachers, house mothers, babysitters, principals, guidance counselors, older student girls, and so on. So finding stimulating feet to admire back then was a far cry easier than it is today, now that I’m a middle-aged man. As a boy, nearly every adult woman had sexy feet in my view. But as a man, I’m far less likely to encounter women that have the same sort of profound upper-hand over me, and so far fewer of them excite me to begin with. Thus in this way, satisfying my foot fetish as an adult has proven to be way more difficult than as a young child.
But even when I’ve found a queenly lady that I think would be fun to worship, the pleasure of the experience either never appears (not even at the first foot worshipping with a new woman), or it rarely survives three or four encounters with her. In these situations, her feet either quickly become or always appear plain and sexually insignificant once I get her shoes off. This is gravely disheartening because a main objective of my love quest in adulthood, has been to duplicate and (I dare say) improve upon the foot fetish encounters I enjoyed as a curious child. Yet so far, I’ve not managed this.
As a child, I found many more women’s feet sexually intriguing than as an adult. I never considered how she grew up, her morals, whether or not I could trust her, how educated she was, whether or not she used drugs, and so on. However I’m much pickier these days about whom I allow to enter my life in this intimate way. She must be reasonably smart, thin, reasonably healthy, and so on. I just hope that I’ve not become so discriminating that I’ve made it impossible for myself to enjoy anyone at all.
As a youngster, I was ashamed of my childhood foot fetish. Even at three or four years old, I knew that hovering close to women’s feet felt inappropriate though extremely errotic. So I often felt embarrassed when they’d occasionally catch me gawking at their shoes and imagining the thrill I’d surely experience if I was to slowly remove those shoes. Further, I was absolutely mortified when a couple teachers realized what I was after and scolded me. I so looked forward to the highly charged sexual experiences that adulthood would surely bring. where such attractions would be appropriate to explore. As a kid, dreaming about the future, I thought that being a man would make this behavior inherently more acceptable. But as it turned out, it didn’t so much. Indeed at tines, I still feel embarrassed and afraid that the lady will think of me as the reject who likes to kiss feet. But I now fear this judgment less so I must admit, since I have endured getting thousands of rejections.
The trauma of getting rejected has no doubt attached some heavy baggage to my emotions, and perhaps this baggage is what makes feet so much less appealing than they were forty years ago. Maybe I find them less lastingly stimulating today because I’m afraid to. I’m afraid of rejection. But I didn’t have this fear as a child because I had no history of being rejected, and little reason to show restraint. Sometimes, the women back then even allowed me to see their feet because they thought my foot fetish was cute or amusing.
But adult men who behave this way are not generally as cute or amusing as the kids with an interest in feet, unless of course one can find adult women who enjoy their feet being pampered. In fact, getting rejected generally stings much more and thus has more lasting effects than as a child. Back then, I cared less about preserving my good name and reputation than today. Generally speaking, the childhood me felt that I had much less to lose by expressing my foot fetish than I do as an adult.
In some ways, it was easier to gratify my childhood foot fetish than my adulthood foot fetish. There was less to lose as a kid, more exciting women around, perhaps less fear to reach out and indulge, and less humiliation should I have pick the wrong woman to worship. Yet as an adult, there’s more freedom to explore ladies who might very much enjoy having their feet worshipped, and more resources (money) available to get around to meeting them to do just that. There are fewer curfews to follow, and as adults, we presumably are in better touch with what our inner children desire. Plus, the experience and wisdom we acquire while moving through our adult lives are powerful tools in the love quest to move us closer to people who like what we want to give, and who can happily give what we ourselves like to receive.
In light of all this, I’m not sure what’s more fun to be; a child of adult fetishist. Both roles have their pros and cons as discussed above. But I just wish I could find a way (or a right woman) to enjoy feet in the lasting sort of intense way today, as I did as a young boy. Yes, that question still burns in my mind. Thus, the love quest continues.
See my Boyhood Foot Fetish piece for more exploration of the childhood foot fetish as I’ve experienced it.