Big Time Espionage (Chapter 5)

Charlie didn’t strip himself entirely, stopping once he was down to his pants and undershirt, then dared to creep even nearer to the giantess’s toes. From here, he could engrossingly study her well-kempt nailbeds, the crease-lines formed in her skin every time those digit joints clamped again, and the liquid wink of moisture glimmering in between her toes each time they spread. More importantly, the heat and odor became just as palpable as when he was splatted like a bug under her sole, only now he could actually do something about it besides impotently writhe and slurp down tainted oxygen. Gradually her foot slowed its hasty breeze-pumping rhythm, instead adopting a pace more like a spacious boat bobbing lazily on calm sea waves, which also meant her toes relaxed again. Charlie felt his jaw hang open, though not because his muscles were going slack. Instead, some primal thirst within him was pulling him forth, in the same way that a lost wanderer in the desert might start to salivate upon finding an oasis, before he’d even processed what it was he was seeing. He couldn’t bear to just taste that once-repulsive flavor from a stone’s throw away, merely sniffing up a distant sample and admiring the Xartanian’s lower anatomy like fine architecture. He needed more, and further than that, Charlie was compelled to prostrate himself in devotion before these wiggly toe-boulders and humble himself in any way he could discover.

That way, it turned out, was by kissing the busy titaness’s foot with greater passion than he’d ever kissed anything or anyone, including his wife back on their home planet. Charlie couldn’t even recall crawling those final steps that still separated him from the row of her steadily reposing digits. The next thing he knew, his lips were parted as wide as they could go and pressed hard against the doughy yield of her big toe’s frontal curve. He puckered up with politely pinched lips only briefly, but quickly found it impossible to resist treating that meaty sweat-glazed bulge of her largest digit like a candied jawbreaker instead. Still dropped on all fours, Charlie rocked himself back and forth on his knees, all but bashing his own countenance into the tacky print-lined swell of the giantess’s toe flesh with each needy kiss. As he’d hoped, a much stiffer strain of that balmy day-worn tartness greeted his smell centers, since he couldn’t resist inhaling his airways to capacity while multi-tasking sloppy jaw-cranked smooches.

Just wishing now that it was possible for him to make out with all of her digits at once, the quarter-inch addict reluctantly pulled himself away from her big toe, only to lip-lock with its immediate neighbor and practically suckle upon its squishy girth with an even hungrier vengeance. Snorting and snogging so aggressively at her foot, it wasn’t long before Charlie was doing more than just smelling that succulently perspired flavor, but basting it into his taste buds. Now, each time he smeared his mouth open so wide that it almost hurt, his tiny tongue lavished firm swirling licks against the gritty micro-divots of the giantess’s intricate toeprinted flesh patterns. That crackly barrage of soggy auras through two orifices now made him feel like he was chugging from simultaneous wells of vinegar and overripe pineapple. Only such flavors that would’ve once made him gag and cough now just lit up the pleasure centers of Charlie’s brain, spurring him to sniff harder, kiss longer, and lap more passionately, until his tongue was fatigued. Even then, however, he couldn’t give up, when there was still such a grand volume of foot for him to appreciate. Charlie worked his way down the row of her toes, twitching from excitement and animalistic thirst as he invited all those rugged tastes into his body and got goose-bumps from the sensation of his tongue running across the brawny mass of each dewy-fleshed toe tip.

Beta, meanwhile, was going through a similar semi-religious experience to his cohort, only he felt his desire manifesting much differently. Having stripped himself all the way down to his birthday suit, he was still willfully lying in harm’s way directly below her heel, while it slowed its earlier jumpy cadence, and didn’t so much as wince even when the bulky backend of the giantess’s nude foot sometimes came close enough to thudding against the ground again on the downbeat of a bounce that he could’ve reached up and touched it. No thought was paid to his own safety, or the all-too-real possibility of getting caught, now that he and his team had spent so long ill-advisedly strewn at the colossal shoeless feet of this oblivious stranger, who now represented the most unexpected yet successful impediment to completing a mission in all their combined careers. All that mattered was remaining in the beguiling orbit of her enormous feminine foot. The longer Beta stared at the bottom, watching stray trickles of light play across the creamy ever-altering wrinkles that furrowed from ball to heel, the more he felt some kind of intangible power commanding him to dedicate every sense to this living landmark. It sped up his pulse and pressurized his eardrums, invisibly insisting that he respond.

Beta didn’t even notice he was rock-hard below the beltline, or that he had been ever since her sole ceased grinding upon him and Charlie. Once it hit his perceptions, however, everything started falling into place. Tremoring and hyperventilating, he took hold of his member and began to jerk, while powered by sniff upon sniff of that intoxicating miasma still clouding so densely around the giantess’s vicinity like a twisted perfume distilled from olive brine and an oily discolored insole. Without so much as a warmup or a drop of lube, Beta got right to a stoic jackhammering on his groin that might’ve felt too rough, given different circumstances. But that chemically-transformed spice in the air cancelled out any friction in his senses, making every pump instead seem just as slippery-smooth as he was made to feel while scrutinizing the cushy marble-sleek contours of that vast grooved arch overhead.

Immediately, that hypnotic drag toward her feet that he’d experienced before was satiated, even though he couldn’t know for sure what he was “supposed” to do until he took hold of his manhood. Faster and more desperately, Beta pulled at himself, while using his other arm to support himself against the ground. Though no matter how jelly-legged he turned in the buildup toward climax, he didn’t dare take his eyes off the kaleidoscopic array of wrinkles constantly fluting into existence then rolling back out amidst the dappled shadows underfoot. Nor could Beta have stood to hold his breath, as he was no longer hyperventilating from overstimulation, but rather so he could swallow as much of that swampy steam as possible before crossing the finish line. Again he vividly reimagined the sensation of her leaden sole plopping down upon his flattened body and squeezing until he was left stuck there like a wad of tar. Finally, the combined euphoric assault of those memories, the sights, the smells, and his own masturbatory fury were too much to juggle. Beta collapsed face-down, panting, as he spasmed through by far the most explosive orgasm of his life.