Rating: NC-17

Summary: Trip rubs Malcolm the right way

Comments: Due to some shocking email I received following "Soul Provider", I was forced to submit the following. You know who you are. I humbly apologize for the title. Enjoy.

Beta reader(s): My neighbor read it. She said "Cool. Are those both guys?"

Malcolm opened his door, still walking gingerly, and cheerfully invited me in. He was wearing sweatpants, a baggy T-shirt and socks. I realized he was serious about getting a foot massage. That was fine with me, though, because I'd been dying to get my hands on him for some time now. Just having my hands on any part of him would be great.

He offered me a beer. He had one too and we sat for a while, chatting about nothing in particular. It reinforced just how much I liked him as a person. One on one with me, he was charming and friendly, and had a great laugh. Soon though, he asked if I were really serious about rubbing his feet.

"Absolutely," I said, perhaps a little too eagerly. Malcolm's eyes twinkled as he pulled off his socks. I scooted my chair closer and brought out a small bottle of lotion. When I explained it was peppermint foot cream, he gave a little "ooh", which turned into a long "aah" as I began slathering it across his feet and toes.

"That tingles," he said.

"Ticklish?" I asked, as I coated his feet with the cream.

"Just a bit," he affirmed, "But this feels great." He leaned back against the wall behind the bed and pushed his butt forward, allowing me more room to work on his feet. I started by holding up one foot and walking my thumbs from his heel to the ball, digging them in firmly. Malcolm closed his eyes and practically melted, his head lolling to one side. I repeated this several times. The next step was to knead my knuckles into the ball of his foot. It was a surprisingly delicate foot for someone as masculine as Malcolm. My next maneuver was to gently massage the soft portion of flesh just beneath his big toe. It was callused and Malcolm jerked around a little bit.

"Does that hurt?" I asked him.

"Oh no, not at all, feels marvelous," he murmured, settling back into the bed. It was time to concentrate on his toes. I gave each one time, rotating, bending and rubbing it. I finished off each digit by pulling on it as if I were playing 'This Little Piggy'. Looking over at the clock, I realized I'd spent a half-hour just on his right foot. I set it down and went to work on his left, repeating the process. All through the massage my cock formed a tent in my pants. Malcolm hadn't noticed because his eyes were shut, but when I switched feet, he opened them slightly and smiled. Had he seen the evidence of my arousal?

I got my answer as I finished up his left foot. I was tugging at the pinky toe when his right foot swung over and came to rest on my bulge. Splaying his toes across the crotch of my pants, Malcolm looked at me and said, "That was fabulous. How ever can I repay you?"

"Uh, that's not necessary," I stammered.

Fortunately, Malcolm just said, "I know," and tried to pull down the zipper on my fly, but his toes were too slick with peppermint cream.

"You're going to have to set him free," he said sweetly, pairing his words with a sultry smile.

Taking a moment to savor what was about to happen, I unzipped and lowered my pants. My cock bulged in my briefs and Malcolm gripped the waistband between his toes and pulled them down. Once free, my aching cock bounced in front of me.

"Oh, I see you've enjoyed this quite as much as I have," he teased. Malcolm took my cock between his feet and rolled it like a baker working dough. It's hard to describe how wonderful it feels to have the cool, dry flesh of an attractive foot touch your cock. If the owner of the foot is good at it, it's even better than a hand job. And Malcolm was good at it. I could tell he must have done this before, because he had a regimen just like my massage technique. After he rolled me around, he then gripped my shaft between all ten toes and jerked it up and down. That little maneuver made me gasp. He stopped intermittently to bounce my balls on one big toe, then wiggle his toes on my scrotum. Then he went back to jerking me off. I had the sudden stunning realization that Malcolm was going to make me come by using only his feet. This would definitely be a first. His foot approached the tip of my cock and he wrapped his toes around the head and twisted slightly, as if my erection were a bottle and he was trying to pop off the top. His left foot, meanwhile, was sliding up and down my shaft and occasionally dancing along my balls. He added another move by fanning his toes along the underside. I was nearly jumping out of my skin.

When Malcolm saw that I was ready to be pushed over the edge, he once again gripped my shaft with all his toes. By then his knees were spread and my cock was poised directly above his crotch. His T-shirt was pushed up over his stomach and I saw a trickle of sweat trail down his muscled abdomen into his belly button. Seconds passed and a deluge of semen bubbled out of me. A few spurts shot all the way past his shoulder and onto the wall behind his head. The rest splashed across his shirt and sweatpants, pooling right between his legs. I almost fell over backward with the force of my release. Any potential embarrassment, however, was avoided when he slipped out from under me and was suddenly at my side, stroking my cock with his hand and kissing my neck.

"Lucky I wore these old things," he laughed softly, then stepped back and stripped to his birthday suit. Malcolm had a great, muscular, athletic body with a small, firm butt, flat stomach and powerful looking legs. He tossed aside his cum-splattered sweats and took my hand, pulling me onto his bed.

"How about you give me a massage all over," he said, "with your hands and your tongue."