Teen Boy Feet Novels & Stories

He felt proud that he was the cause of that hardness. There was this one shy boy he dated in high school, Callum. With a petite figure, light skin and cute dimples. Yes, dimples are one of his weaknesses. They had to break up when Callum needed to go to London. He never saw him after that. It was his first and last physical experience with a male.

He's been studying me for far too long. "Why are you so unsteady on your feet?" he asks instead of answering my question. I turn slightly in my chair and push my feet out from under the table so my legs are extended. "These sticks are too long for me and my feet too large. It's been that way since I turned ten. Maybe neither are the right size for my body." I smile to let him know the question doesn't bother me, but then it doesn't seem to bother him to have asked, so I'm unsure why I bother.

He's been studying me for far too long. "Why are you so unsteady on your feet?" he asks instead of answering my question. I turn slightly in my chair and push my feet out from under the table so my legs are extended. "These sticks are too long for me and my feet too large. It's been that way since I turned ten. Maybe neither are the right size for my body." I smile to let him know the question doesn't bother me, but then it doesn't seem to bother him to have asked, so I'm unsure why I bother.

Small sips. The boy watched me intently as I somehow managed to restrain myself, only allowing myself a couple of slow, small sips. He was in his teens, with awkward, gangly limbs and scruffy light brown hair. His skin was pale, but he had ruddy cheeks with freckles over his nose, and he dressed similarly to that Ollie kid. Oversized shirt that looked like it had never seen soap in its life and pants that were being kept together by random patchwork.

Once it was on he felt something similar being slipped onto his left foot. The boy was finally allowed up off the enema rail and he was able to pull up his right leg enough to see what was on his feet. He was wearing very strange leather boots, but instead of soles like regular shoes, his boots had horseshoes under his toes. The inside of the boots were designed to force Cody to only walk and stand with his toes over the horse shoes, which was extremely uncomfortable and awkward.

Not only did he see them with masks but also sticks. Their uniforms showed they were boys and not the opposite sex. “Peter!” One of them yelled his name. Joe could have run at that moment, but they were standing at the exit, which was also the entrance. “What is going on?” Joe asked, frightened of the fact that held sticks. “I have been waiting for this moment, Peter” A teen with a deep voice mentioned. “Who would have thought that the most annoying bully would be so weak not to remember his identity?” A boy with a tiny voice said.

She let go of me and wobbled on her heels. “Steady there, girl.” “Want to trade shoes?” She lifted one foot and shook a strappy sandal with a stiletto heel at me. “You’d look sexy in heels.” “I don’t think that’s going to work.” “Why not? I’m a size nine. I have big feet for a girl.” “That’s a size seven in men’s. Not big at all.” “What size do you wear?” “Eleven.” “In men’s?” She gaped at me.

"Beloved." "Huh?" Caius frowned and looked behind him then back at the strange boy, his frown deepening. The boy looked to be around five feet and two inches. His hair was dark and his skin pale. His eyes were freckled gold with the background layered light red. He was dressed in a tunic and high waist pants and the smell of a rotting animal mixed with coconuts emanated from him. It was an odd smell, the sweet milky scent of fresh coconuts combined with the musky smell of a nine-day-old carcass.

She was sitting with her feet on Colton’s lap on the couch, and he was doing his best, giving her a foot massage while giving it some cold compress. “Oh, that feels nice,” she sighed as Colton rubbed his thumb on her heel. “Where did you learn to do that?” “I used to play soccer in high school… Well, we call it footie there. Anyway, sometimes I twist my ankle too, and this always helps,” “You played soccer?” “Among other things,” he laughed. “Soccer is a popular sport in the UK,” “That’s right, you went to high school in the UK?” “Yup,” he nodded. “It was an all boys school,”

I watch closely, not because I doubt him, but because I can’t not watch him. He’s fast. Faster than most kids his age. When they pair up, he is matched with a boy a year older than him. The boys is bigger, with broad shoulders and a confident smirk. “Try not to cry.” The boy taunts, still smirking. Aiden just tilts his head. “You talk too much.” He mutters, shaking his head. I bite back a smile. “Begin.” Jake calls out. They circle each other. The older boy lunges first, aggressively. Aiden ducks under his arm easily, spinning and sweeping the boy’s legs out from under him. The boy stumbles but catches himself before he falls to the ground.