Peppermint Piggies
Title: Peppermint Piggies
Author: Reedfem
Author's e-mail: [email protected]
Date: Posted to EntSTSlash & TuckerReed 05 May 2003, sent to MEGA on 30 Sep 2003.
Archive: Permission to archive granted to EntSTCommunity and MEGA
Fandom: Star Trek: Enterprise
Category: Slash
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Tucker/Reed
Main characters: Archer, Porthos
Summary: Trip rubs Malcolm the right way.
Warnings: Is foot fetish a warning?
Beta: My neighbor read it. She said "Cool. Are those both guys?"
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome.
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: These characters are copyrighted by Paramount, no copyright infringement is intended and no money was made. The poor boys just keep following me home and begging to stay. Quite nicely, too!
Author's notes: I humbly apologize for the title.
"You okay there, Malcolm?" I asked, watching him
walk slowly and painfully to his bridge station. "Guess your feet are
still hurting you?"
He rolled his eyes and briefly made a face. "Yes,
they're killing me. I can barely walk. It's those bloody uncomfortable
utility boots."
Before I even realized what I was saying, I blurted out,
"Well, I give a great foot massage, if you're interested."
I couldn't believe I'd said that! Malcolm looked at me incredulously
for a second and I mentally smacked myself upside my head. I was about to
cover it up with a joke, when Malcolm came to my rescue by smiling and saying
"That would be fabulous. Perhaps I'll take you up on it."
Part of me was suddenly very interested in that possibility,
so I decided to make a hasty retreat before anyone noticed.
"Anytime," I said, as I headed for the lift. "Just comm
me."
I didn't think for a second he was serious and decided he
was just being polite, but later that day I got a message from him.
"Trip, is that offer for a foot massage still on the
table?"
"Absolutely. Name the time and place."
"Tonight, 2000, my place."
I didn't get much work done after that.
***
Malcolm opened his door, still walking gingerly, and
cheerfully invited me in. He was wearing sweatpants, a baggy T-shirt and
socks. I realized he was serious about getting a foot massage. That was fine
with me, though, because I'd been dying to get my hands on him for some time
now. Just having my hands on any part of him would be great.
He offered me a beer. He had one too and we sat for a
while, chatting about nothing in particular. It reinforced just how much I
liked him as a person. One on one with me, he was charming and friendly, and
had a great laugh. Soon though, he asked if I were really serious about
rubbing his feet.
"Absolutely," I said, perhaps a little too
eagerly. Malcolm's eyes twinkled as he pulled off his socks. I scooted my
chair closer and brought out a small bottle of lotion. When I explained it was
peppermint foot cream, he gave a little "ooh", which turned into a
long "aah" as I began slathering it across his feet and toes.
"That tingles," he said.
"Ticklish?" I asked, as I coated his feet with the
cream.
"Just a bit," he affirmed, "But this feels
great." He leaned back against the wall behind the bed and pushed his
butt forward, allowing me more room to work on his feet. I started by holding
up one foot and walking my thumbs from his heel to the ball, digging them in
firmly. Malcolm closed his eyes and practically melted, his head lolling to
one side. I repeated this several times. The next step was to knead my
knuckles into the ball of his foot. It was a surprisingly delicate foot for
someone as masculine as Malcolm. My next maneuver was to gently massage the
soft portion of flesh just beneath his big toe. It was callused and Malcolm
jerked around a little bit.
"Does that hurt?" I asked him.
"Oh no, not at all, feels marvelous," he murmured,
settling back into the bed. It was time to concentrate on his toes. I gave
each one time, rotating, bending and rubbing it. I finished off each digit by
twisting and pulling on it as if I were playing 'This Little Piggy'. Looking
over at the clock, I realized I'd spent a half-hour just on his right foot. I
set it down and went to work on his left, repeating the process. All through
the massage my cock formed a tent in my pants. Malcolm hadn't noticed because
his eyes were shut, but when I switched feet, he opened them slightly and
smiled. Had he seen the evidence of my arousal?
I got my answer as I finished up his left foot. I was
tugging at the pinky toe when his right foot swung over and came to rest on my
bulge. Splaying his toes across the crotch of my pants, Malcolm looked at me
and said, "That was fabulous, Trip. How ever can I repay you?"
"Uh, that's not necessary," I stammered.
Fortunately, Malcolm just said, "I know," and
tried to pull down the zipper on my fly, but his toes were too slick with
peppermint cream.
"You're going to have to set him free," he said
sweetly, pairing his words with a sultry smile.
Taking a moment to savor what was about to happen, I
unzipped and lowered my pants. My cock bulged in my briefs and Malcolm gripped
the waistband between his toes and pulled them down. Once released, my aching
cock bounced in front of me.
"Oh, I see you've enjoyed this quite as much as I
have," he teased. Malcolm took my cock between his feet and rolled it
like a baker working dough. It's hard to describe how wonderful it feels to
have the cool, dry flesh of an attractive foot touch your cock. If the owner
of the foot is good at it, it's even better than a hand job. And Malcolm was
good at it. I could tell he must have done this before, because he had a
regimen just like my massage technique. After he rolled me around, he then
gripped my shaft between all ten toes and jerked it up and down. That little
maneuver made me gasp. He stopped intermittently to bounce my balls on one big
toe, then wiggle his toes on my scrotum. Then he went back to jerking me off.
I had the sudden stunning realization that Malcolm was going to make me come by
using only his feet. This would definitely be a first. His foot approached the
tip of my cock and he wrapped his toes around the head and twisted slightly, as
if my erection were a bottle and he was trying to pop off the top. His left
foot, meanwhile, was sliding up and down my shaft and occasionally dancing
along my balls. He added another move by fanning his toes along the
underside. I was nearly jumping out of my skin.
When Malcolm saw that I was ready to be pushed over the
edge, he once again gripped my shaft with all his toes. By then his knees were
spread and my cock was poised directly above his crotch. His T-shirt was
pushed up over his stomach and I saw a trickle of sweat trail down his muscled
abdomen into his belly button. Seconds passed and a deluge of semen bubbled
out of me. A few spurts shot all the way past his shoulder and onto the wall
behind his head. The rest splashed across his shirt and sweatpants, pooling
right between his legs. I almost fell over backward with the force of my
release. Any potential embarrassment, however, was avoided when he slipped off
the bed and was suddenly at my side, stroking my cock with his hand and kissing
my neck.
"Lucky I wore these old things," he laughed
softly, then stepped back and stripped to his birthday suit. Malcolm had a
great, muscular, athletic body with a small, firm butt, flat stomach and
powerful looking legs. He tossed aside his cum-splattered sweats and took my
hand, pulling me onto his bed.
"How about you give me a massage all over," he
said, "with your hands and your tongue?"