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Old Sep 17th, 2011, 8:40AM, PDT
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Default Open Question: Why did she let me touch her?

Over the summer, I kinda realized I was late in the "sexual discovery/curiosity" area and wasn't like the rest of my male friends. I did some reading up on the internet and realized I didn't have a fetish at all(not for breasts, rear, legs, etc.). I assumed that I could possibly be a 'late bloomer', and put everything out of mind. Everything had just seemed so peculiar, I had never liked a girl for her breasts, etc... I had liked her because she was cute or witty. Since Freshman year in high school, I have known an upperclassman who's been especially nice to me. In my opinion that first year, she was very cute(blonde hair, blue eyes, sporty, and mischievous), so almost immediately after getting to know her I asked her out. She rejected me, but we stayed good friends after that. She helped me through Sophomore year, giving me tips and such, and we saw each other in other class and at sport practice in the Spring. She's a great friend and all, but I haven't seen her that much in my Junior year, and she also has a different agenda now that she's a Senior. The other day, however I had a chance to talk to her again, after school. My club had been cancelled and my mother(I'm still 2 months away from getting my license) was going to be late to pick me up. I ran into my friend on her way to field hockey practice but, since she still had some time before it started, we talked. She reminded me of how I had asked her out so rashly in Freshman year and we both shared a good laugh together as we remembered some old times. The nostalgia soon dissolved into more somber conversation when we started discussing qualities that we liked in the opposite gender. By this time we had already wandered to the back of the school where I could be picked up in the rear parking lot, and where she could leave for the practice field. No one else was in sight. Emboldened by this, I found the courage to tell her that I didn't have a preference and expressed my concern that I felt different from the other guys. She told me that it was actually quite sweet that I liked other girls as a whole and not just for part of their body. I continued telling her about some of the stuff I had seen on the internet, the almost unbelievably strange fetishes that some men had. When it got back to the tamer ones and reached 'legs', she quickly stretched one of hers out and asked me what I thought. I smiled and told her the other girls would definitely be jealous of hers. Then, I was suddenly reminded of another fetish, one that had slightly piqued my interest. She wasn't very surprised when I told her that there were people with a 'foot fetish', but we laughed together, nonetheless. She hadn't changed into her athletic sneakers yet and was still in flip flops. Again, she asked me, more seriously this time, what I thought about her feet. I told her they were pretty, like the rest of her, and that her seashell pink nail polish stood out in a unique way against her skin. She thanked me for the compliment, but there was an awkward tension in the are after that. After about a minute, she broke the silence. She told me that since I had a fascination with this stuff, and wasn't sure what I preferred she would let me touch her feet, just to see if there was anything more to it, if I wanted to. Jokingly, she told me not to expect anything else; she wasn't going to let me grope a breast or anything. Hesitantly, I accepted the offer. Both sitting on the ground, she placed one of her feet in my lap. I hadn't ever done something like this, had a semi-intimate situation with a girl where she allowed me to touch her in a manner that was more than friendly. I let my fingers explore her foot, pressing tenderly into the sole, slightly bending and flexing the toes. I ran a finger across an arch only to feel her shiver and try to pull back. After pulling back, she would place her foot near me again and I would caress it again, hoping to discover why some men lusted after them. It wasn't nearly as fascinating as I imagined, so I stopped after a couple of minutes. Before we could talk again, I got a phone call from my mother, saying that she was in the front parking lot waiting for me. When I finished, my upperclassman friend was hurriedly waving 'good-bye' and speeding off to avoid being late for practice. Later, I got into my mother's car, and we headed home. I was almost certain, by now, that I was a 'late bloomer' or a terrible excuse of a man. But, curiosity about my sex-drive sated, it brought a new question to mind. Even though we were friends on good terms, and both single, why had she allowed me to touch her? I don't think I've heard of anyone besides couples doing this, and I didn't think we were close enough for something like that. Was it just pity or something? Can anyone out there help?

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