Feet Are the Window to the Sole
There’s something unassumingly intimate about feet.
Though it might be the obvious direction to take in this realm, I’m not talking about fetishization here. I have no personal sexual affinity towards feet that I know of.
I’m talking more about the messages can be conveyed simply by the way someone chooses to expose them or not, and their reasons behind that choice.
A lot of people seem to have very strong opinions about what is appropriate when it comes to foot etiquette. Sometimes, it’s a simple matter of cultural norms — some parts of the world consider it massively disrespectful to not remove your shoes when entering a home or sacred space.
In most of the western world, however, this isn’t the norm. Whether you choose to strip your socks or not can say a lot more about things even closer than home — about the depth of the relationship with your present company. For example, I have a friend who insists that being barefoot in anyone’s home other than yours is a deeply intimate gesture and simply isn’t done unless you are already sexually involved with that person.
Though I don’t fully agree (because, given the option, I will choose barefoot and shoeless whenever possible), I can see what he’s getting at. I expect my bed buddies to remove their socks when things get sexy.
I love the feeling of the earth on my feet and the sand between my toes. As a result, my feet get quite dirty quite easily, and quite often.
Usually, this isn’t a problem. I’m very comfortable with the notion of mucking about with naked feet around other people. In fact, I rarely think anything of it.
That is until I’m exploring a new intimate relationship with someone I grow to care about… Then I became hyper-aware of the dust and detritus cushioning my steps.
What if you think I’m disgusting?
What if we end up in a jumbled position, with you between my legs, my feet in the air, and you take notice of my dirt-laden soles?
And what’s worse – what if that turns you off?
I don’t know much of anything about you yet, let alone how you feel about feet; for all I know, this could very well be a deal breaker for you. Where’s your bathroom? I just need… Just give me moment, I’ll be right back. (I really… really need to wash my feet as subtly as possible before I let you get too close, just in case.)
For something that makes me feel so free under other circumstances, this scenario brings me a little too much anxiety.
But since those earliest days, you have cracked me open. You have looked into me, through me, made me feel beyond what I thought would ever be possible again. You will never have any idea what it means to be to be here like this right now.
To lie exposed in a field, flashing my harness, wind aerating my hair, sprawled out just for you… I know you are always in awe of how readily I expose myself to you, to the world. But it hardly registers as a thing of boldness to me. It’s in my nature.
But to be able to bare my sole, filth and all, without worry or care for your imagined dismay is something beyond my vocabulary. To be held so secure in my digital stance as you capture me in this vulnerable state, and for you to see beyond the darkness into everything else I want to give to you?
You have no idea how important this otherwise negligible gesture is for me to offer.
And that’s how I know that we are sole mates.
The prompt image for this week was provided by Daddy’s Little Monster and first published on Tumblr.
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