Even though you have the bounty of Chris and Joel nearby, the one name on your mind is Dean. You dart inbetween shoes and bags, the cold floor somewhat unpleasant. You see the final row of benches and try to remember where Dean was. Thinking you remember, you head over.
Dean had big feet. Not only big but well formed. Looking at his shoe it dawned on you that this was going to be fun. It stood upright, and you could look down into it without any trouble. Holding onto the lip of the shoe, you take a smell, inhaling the damp of Dean's footsweat.
One time not long ago, you were at a party and Dean was there, god knows how you got invited. Nipping out for a toilet break you passed the shoe cupboard, seeing a pile of them, spotting Dean's. In a moment of passion, you grabbed them and ran to the bathroom. With your nose deep in the sole of a jocks shoe and your hand tightly on your cock, you came, even licking the salty sweat at the bottom.
Remembering your fun time, you hastily climb in and the same smell is there, but 10 fold. The floor is wet and spongy from constant perspiration, your own feet sinking into it. Laying face down, you lick, getting Dean's taste for the second time. The feeling blocks out the fact Dean has actually returned, and is getting ready to leave.
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