Mike snatches you once more, his fingers pressing against your rib cage like a vice. "I need a nap... but I want you close by." Mike smiles, and then swipes the book off of his bed with his free arm and hops onto the surface of his bed, landing on his buttocks with his knees into the air and his feet on the blankets. The roller coaster like movements make you ready to vomit. Then without any further ado, you are lowered down toward one of Mike's feet. He lifts back the edge of his right ankle-high sock to reveal the fleshy side of his long, lean foot. You are lowered even further down, right in the crevice between the wall of the sock and the heel of his enormous foot. "I hope you don't mind it down there. Don't worry: this is the one with less foot fungus, hahahah. But just so you know, I haven't changed these socks for a few days!" Mike's playful teasing angers you, but before you can even respond he releases his grip on you, withdraws his hand, and lets the elastic rim of the sock snap back toward his ankle bone. Your body is pressed tightly face-first against the side of Mike's moist heel; his foot odor is thick and fresh -- moreso because of his active lifestyle as a member of the track team. The compression of his tight sock is suffocating you, so you slide to your left beneath the fabric.
You can imagine Mike watching with sadistic approval as he observes a tiny little bump under his sock scaling the length of his foot toward his toes. As you progress, you realize that Mike wasn't kidding about his foot fungus. You reach his sweaty big toe and nearly puke at the sight of the cheese-like white substance underneath in the crevice between the toe and the ball of his foot. You can feel Mike shifting his body around as he leans back on his bed; you are nearly thrown off the side and underneath his vertical foot entirely when he lays on his back with his toes now pointed upward toward the ceiling. You adjust by climbing on the dorsal side of his toe, around the nailbed, and in between that one and his second big toe. The humidity inside his sock is almost unbearable. Every breath you take in is hot and hoarse, almost like a sauna. You thought your senses had adapated to the smell of his feet until you ventured in between his giant-sized toes, twice as tall as yourself. You have no choice though, except to find reprieve on the surface between them as Mike naps in his bed and decides it's time to remove you. You hope he just doesn't forget you exist when he arises from his slumber and then stands up with you squashed like a bug under his sole. Not that you think it will go that much better for you if he does get around to taking you out.
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