Trading Places - Webfind

[Dead Parrot]

Not much detail but an interesting scenario. I found this by Googling on storiesonline.net. This is only the first chapter. No other foot content that I could find.

DP


Trading Places
by Tony Stevens

Chapter 1

We were "Tom and Jerry," inseparable old friends going back to high school.

We were in college now, a couple of green freshmen, but we were still living at our respective homes with our respective parents. We were nineteen-year-olds, going on sixteen.

For Tom Carter and me -- Jerry Branyan -- the only thing a little different about being in college instead of in the local high school was that we had a lot more classmates. And there were a lot more women. And, oh my! These were real women, too. High school was so over! We were still youthful, still callow, but we were men now -- not mere boys.

And all those women!

Tom and I might only be day students, local boys still living at home, but we knew that there were hundreds -- thousands! -- of young adults attending the university who were newly away from their homes for the first time. They were young, strong, full of raging hormones and -- at last! -- on their own!

If someone had been keeping statistics, if someone was somehow able to discern the truth and write it down, there could have been a Giant Scorecard being kept, marking off the young men and women -- a dozen tonight, six tomorrow night, 24 on Friday, 31 more on Saturday -- who had entered the realm of sexual maturity--at least as measured by having had their first sexual encounters as collegians.

I mean, sure, a lot of these kids had come into college as non-virgins. Many -- probably most -- had experimented with sex before arriving here. But even for them, things were very different here. Sex was less -- furtive. Arranging to have sex was less of a challenge, all-around: It was easier to find a partner. Easier to find a place to take your partner. Easier to introduce the possibility of having sex. Easier to evoke a positive response, when the question was asked.

Copious quantities of beer was also of some help.

If there had been that Giant Scorecard being kept, the number of virgins (probably a pretty a low number to begin with) would have been rapidly decreasing, as the first semester of that first year wore on. The raging hormones were so dense you could damned near smell 'em in the breeze!

My friend Tom had managed to hook up with a tall, buxom girl named Marian Fenner. Marian was a freshman, like us, but she was from out-of-state. She was a stranger to Springfield, to the University, and to everyone she met. Her shyness probably made all of this seem a bit frightening.

Tom had been out with Marian a couple of times, and he suggested to me that we get together for a double date. My love interest of the moment was one Rita Hampton. Rita was, of all things, a majorette in the University's band. She had also been a majorette in her high school band -- as an 8 x 10 color photograph of her, wearing a highly abbreviated costume, advertised in her dorm room.

Rita was Sex on a Stick. One of those 'OmyGod'! girls that caused male mouths to drop open and electrical signals to make penises twitch involuntarily.

The truth was, Rita was a little out of my league, as measured by Apparent Maturity, Likely Scope of Sexual Experience, and General Sexual Pazazz. I recognized this, but, three weeks earlier, I had overcome my natural reticence and had taken the plunge -- asking Rita for a date.

Somewhat to my surprise, she accepted. We had a decent-enough time; I asked her out again, and she accepted again.

I had not gotten to first base just yet, but Rita was the kind that would keep you coming back for more, no matter how long it took. As long as she would say "yes" to my date-requests, I was going to keep them coming.

Let's face it. Guys have enormous egos. It was almost enough for me, just to have Rita on my arm. If somebody saw us together and thought I might be tapping such a fine-looking babe, that was almost reward enough.

In the back of my mind, though, I knew I wasn't making much headway. At some point, I knew that if things didn't improve, I'd probably have to just voluntarily fade out of the picture.

But not just yet. Tom's double-date suggestion was a good one. Our two very-new relationships with these two very-new young women could use to added comfort level of having another couple along for the evening.

The double date turned out to be a pleasant evening. We took the girls out to dinner at a popular university eatery, we went to a carefully chosen chick flick, and to top off the evening, we drove them, in Tom's car, to the home he shared with his parents, not far from the campus.

At Tom's place, we raided the refrigerator and found some frozen Key Lime pie. It had probably cost Tom's father about eight bucks, but we shamelessly cut it into generous quarters and wiped it out, on the spot. We all took seats in the Carter Family's spacious kitchen, sitting at a small table for four in the middle of the room.

"Coffee, anyone?" Tom-the-host asked, and we all said yes.

Tom put it on to perk and took his place at the small table, sitting alongside his date, Marian, and opposite Rita and me. I was feeling pretty good about the evening. By college freshman standards, it had been a pretty ample evening of entertainment.

Maybe the Fabulous Rita would find me slightly more interesting, after this.

I mean -- Key Lime pie!

We had some casual conversation and second cups of coffee to bring us down from the Key Lime sugar high, and the two girls, who seemed to be getting along, went off together to the bathroom as young girls are wont to do.

Tom, I noticed, wasn't saying very much, which left it to me to hold up the male side of the conversation. I wasn't exactly Joe Cool, but I did my best, and we struggled through the evening OK.

Tom and I took the girls back to their dorms and I was ready for him to drop me off and call it a night.


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"Jesus, Jerry!" Tom said, as soon as we were alone in the car.

"Yeah. Pretty nice night," I agreed.

"No. No! You don't understand. You don't know! Jesus!"

"What are you all excited about?" I asked.

"Rita!"

"Yeah. She's hot. But I saw her first."

"No. I mean, I wouldn't beat your time," Tom said. "But she -- she came on to me tonight!"

"She came on to you? I didn't notice anything."

"It's not something you'd have noticed. It all happened -- under the table."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean -- literally -- under the table. While we were having the pie and coffee, Rita had her foot up in my crotch!"

"Her foot?"

"Yeah! I mean, she took off her shoe, and ran her foot right up into my lap, and between my legs, and all the way up to my crotch!"

"Rita did this?"

"Yes! It wasn't my date -- Marian was sitting right next to me. So unless it was your fucking bare foot, tickling my nuts, it had to be Rita!"

"Damn!"

"Yeah. Is she -- always that... y'know -- hot to trot?"

"Oh, Hell no! I haven't gotten the first indication from her that she was the least bit interested in me. This was our third date, tonight, and I haven't so much as kissed her goodnight."

"Well, she sure as hell was trying to tell me something!"

"No way you could have -- misinterpreted her -- ahh -- actions?"

"Jerry. C'mon! I may not be Mr. Suave, but when a girl sticks her bare toes into my crotch and starts tickling my unit and boning me up, I've gotta think she's expressing a certain amount of interest!"

"Yeah. You've gotten farther with her in one evening than I have in three weeks of giving her the rush."

"I hate to cut in on a buddy," Tom said, "but Jesus, Jerry, you gotta give me the go-ahead, here. I've gotta take a shot at that!"

"Be my guest," I said. "I clearly am not getting anywhere with her, and if she had wanted to tell me to speed things up, she's had plenty of chances to diddle my dick. Somehow, she's managed to resist the temptation, so far. You just go for it, buddy! It looks like Rita's hot for your body!"

END