I am a massive stinky sock fetishist. My earliest sock experience happened when I was in high school, I was best friends with a tall, tan soccer jock, who loved wearing skate sneakers and Nike Jordan’s. He was a heart throb, 6 feet tall, always wore the most handsome cologne, blonde and blue eyes, the sweetest guy. It was our senior year, and I had been friends with him for a long while by the point the unthinkable happened, and I had craved to smell his feet for well over a year. I often dreamt of what it would feel like to peel off his soccer cleats, absolutely steaming with ripe, rank foot odor, his socks, dark and moist with stinking ripe foot sweat. My heart would pound whenever I thought about his socked feet, and the way I wanted to deeply sniff his feet. I fantasized often that his socks would feel like hot, pungent vinegar, as if a bowl of red wine vinegar had been left in the sun for a month covered up. I imagined the way his moist toes would feel as they grazed across my face. Anyway, it was our senior year, and in my fantasy, I would pretend to write out text messages, explaining my desire to smell his dirty socks, never imagining I would send it to him! As I walked along the sidewalk typing the message out, I tripped on a piece of cement and my thumb slammed into the send button on my screen. “Can I smell your feet?” Was all I saw flash across my screen. There was no unsend button at the time, and my heart raced in my chest. I couldn’t believe the mistake I had just made. A few minutes went by, and my phone vibrated. “Why would you want too? They stink.” I melted. How my fetish had been partially satisfied just by him telling me that his feet smell. It was the most intense thing I could hear at the time! My best friend’s feet stink! This was my chance. I responded “I’ve always been curious about it, and you’re my best friend, so I figured I could ask you without judgment.” A moment later, he told me to come over and smell his feet! My heart was pounding in my chest. I ran to my car and flew to his house, completely in awe of what was about to happen. My first serious sock fetish experience, with a straight man’s smelly socks, up close and personal in my face. I got to his place and walked in the side door. He led me to his living room and we sat on the couch together, it was quite awkward at first. He asked me how I wanted to do this, and I said put your feet on my lap, let me see something. I pulled off his soccer cleat, and began to slowly bring my nose down to his massive size 12 socks. They were beautiful. White, with toe stains, soles white, with some gray musk, and deep, dark heels stains. I brought my nose to the tops of his socked toes and took in a deep sniff. What I was assaulted with, was beyond my wildest dreams. His socks reeked of acrid, acidic vinegar, straight up arm pit body odor, and rotting onions. The smell underneath his toenails beneath his smelly socks was unbelievable. The vinegar that wafted from his toes, it was incredible. I winced in shock, and he pulled his foot away. I quickly snatched it back, his thick, heavy legs trembling in my lap. “I like the way your feet stink.” No other words were exchanged that evening. I sniffed his socks for nearly three hours, and by the time I left his house, my face absolutely reeked of his body odor vinegar socked toes. He had snagged my nose and gripped it tightly during my sniffing session, and the pungent stink of his socks entrapped itself and engrained itself so deep within my nostrils, I was able to enjoy the stench of his warm, thick toes for several hours after. So much so that I was able to blast a serious orgasm to the smell of my best friends dirty socks. His cleats were so moist, I slipped my hands in them so that my fingers would stink of his feet after I left. I sniffed his socked feet so deeply, my eyes were fixated on his socks for the duration of the session, and they watered to the extreme stink of his straight bro feet. I glided my nose from his warm, corn chippy heels, up to his pungent vinegar toes, grazing the fabric of his rancid white Nike socks just enough that I was able to be fully nasal assaulted with intense foot odor. The sweat dragging along my nose and face was warm, and sticky. It smelt of thick, buttered popcorn and intense vinegar, and as it trailed along my face, I sniffed deeper in between his thick, ripened toes. The smell wafting from in between his toes was thick and intense, a mucky cheese that had aged a while. It was an incredible and delectable experience. I am obsessed with rancid, rank socks, the longer and more intense the wear, the better I indulge in the awful stink. Nothing turns me on more than putrid foot odor, especially a thick vinegar mixed with some musty cum and ball sweat.

I wanted to write anything else than this. My smartphone has automatic correction. My holy grial are socks gifted by my boyfriend's mother. His used socks. He wears socks on his cummed sneakers AND I took his socks as a thank you gift. I would hate mine being stolen so I give everyone sneak peeks once a wear them more than a day, so he knows I hace some candid memories about his footwears. The last chance I took liking socks was playing with my exes best friendo, he has a very sore face after I turn his face into a footrug. I just kissed his. He took my cummed rags and kissed them. His face was really sore after he caressed my shorts ankle socks into his lips.