27/01/2025 05:33:53 by anonymous (1/2)
I’ve always been drawn to the look of socks when they’re sweaty—when they stick to the feet, clinging like a second skin. There’s nothing hotter than when a guy curls his toes and the sock wrinkles at the bottom, stretched over his sticky, stinky soles. White socks show it best—the dampness, the texture, the perfect mix of clean and dirty. And while the visual’s amazing, nothing beats hearing a man casually talk about stinky socks or feet. Words like “stinky” or “sweaty” hit different, especially when he’s descriptive. It’s even better if it’s not in a fetish context—just teasing, joking, or complaining about the smell.
In high school, I played football and ran track, and back then, it was all innocent fun. Guys would joke about stinky socks sometimes, especially on the bus ride home or after practice. I’d discovered my fetish by the time I was 14, and I secretly started wearing a thin pair of ankle socks under my regular socks—either school socks or game socks. I’d wear that same pair of thin socks for days until they reeked of that perfect, corn-chippy stink. When they hit just the right level, I’d savor them during private moments—one in my mouth, the other over my nose—and the jerk-off sessions were unreal.
At that age, whether it was because of teenage hormones or those stinky ankle socks I wore underneath my regular ones, I got a bit of a reputation for my stinky feet. A couple of teammates on the football team teased me, saying my feet smelled like Fritos (they weren’t wrong), and even a few girls on the track team joked about it. There was one fellow d-lineman who teased me relentlessly about it. He said my feet were “rank” every time we sat near each other in the locker room. Looking back, I wonder if he had his own stink kink—but at the time, I was way too shy and naïve to even think about testing that theory.
That kind of teasing never really stopped. Just a few weeks ago, I was with some friends watching football, and one guy started heckling another about his stinky socks. It wasn’t mean-spirited—just playful banter—but it caught my attention instantly. I couldn’t smell them from across the room, and honestly, I’m not attracted to those friends, so it wasn’t erotic. But hearing the teasing? The way he dragged out the word “stinky”? That definitely got to me.
