Fishin’ for Feet

Roosters crow as the sun rises over the horizon, but farm brothers Joe (16) and Bill (17) we’re already up four hours ago, and just finishing their yard work and chores.

Joe: “Whoo! And that’s the last of ‘em! Bay what a mornin.’”

Joe exclaimed as he stacked the final hay barrel and took off of his dirty heavy duty gloves to wipe the sweat from his brow. Joe was an energetic and hard working youngin’, always starting the day with a bright smile and ending the day covered in sweat, dirt, and pride. He had tanned skin with patches of freckles adorning his cheeks, shoulders, elbows, knees, and other areas, along with a buck tooth grin, shaggy brown hair, upturned button nose, and large round green eyes. Along with his short stature, small but toned frame, non existent body hair, childish demeanor, and youthful face, he looked a few years younger than he was. He could always be seen wearing a pair of worn overalls that’s seen better days, covered in patches, stitches, and the bottoms dirty and frayed, white shirt that was closer to yellow due to all the sweat stains, and his signature straw hat. He never wore shoes, so his feet were always dirty and rough, yet still soft to the touch.

Bill: “Yer tellin’ me, Joe, my hands are all kinds of hurtin’ after milkin’ ol’ Betsy and the girls.”

Bill announced as he rubbed his sire callused ridden hands. Bill was Joe’s older brother, and he looked it. Tanned skin, jet black mullet, tall and built stature, prominent nose, narrow steel blue eyes, thick wads of hair on his pits, patches of hair in his arms, chest, legs, and back. Similarly to Joe, due to his features and serious demeanor made Bill look several years older than he was. Typically you can see Bill wear a wide beater that cling to his frame, blue jeans, and a pair of dark brown boots.

Joe: “Not hurtin’ too much fer our fishin’ trip, right?”

Joe looked at Bill with a pleading look in his round eyes like a puppy and Bill just ruffled his hair as he chuckled Joe’s worries away.

Bill: “I’m never too tired fer you, brother.”

Joe cheered as Bill ruffled his hair before running to the entrance of the barn, snagging his hat off a hook, and swilling his and Bill’s fishing poles on his way out. Bill laughed at his energetic kid brother and walked out the barn, locking the doors as he made his way to the shore of their lake where Joe was waiting inside, organizing the tackle box. Not even wasting a single moment to shower or wipe down as they start their fishing trip. Bill gave a little push before jumping in and starting the engine, and the farm brothers were on their way. The boat stammered to a stop in the middle of the lake, Bill and Joe grabbed their fishing poles and threw their lines across the crystal blue surface.

Joe: “Nothin’ like fishin’ to make ya all relaxed after a hard days work.”

Joe whispered, his toes tapping against the boat’s floor, as his eyes remained focused on the line like a mother hen watching her eggs.

Bill: “Ya said it, brother, it’s nice havin’ some peace ‘n quite with just us.”

Bill said looking over his shoulder at Joe who nodded in agreement. Joe kicked his dirty feet on the edge of the boat which caught Bill’s attention. Joe’s feet were small, but wide with shirt chubby toes, and they were the real reason Bill was out there. Ever since Bill was yay high he had a fascination and love for feet, and his main outlet for it was Joe, who didn’t mind all that much, even if he didn’t understand the appeals of sniffing and licking his feet that smelled like dirt and vinegar, or when he woke up to his brother huffing and sucking his feet.

Bill: “Hey, uh, Joe? Do ya think I could have yer feet while we fish?”

Bill whispered, setting his rod to sit against the boat as he turned around to face his brother. Joe turned to look at Bill before swinging his body around and plopping his feet in Bill’s lap, his gaze still on the open waters.

Joe: “Okay, as long as yer quiet. Last time ya almost scared away all the fish.”

Bill: “I will, I promise.”

Bill replied before lifting brother’s feet, he could already feel the heat radiate off them and smell them from his lap, those only grew stronger the closer they got to his face, and they practically doubled when he shoved his face in his brother’s soles and inhaled his hard work, making his trouser snake to slowly wake up. While Bill was getting a noseful of foot funk, Joe could make out the slight movement of the water of a fish coming his way.

Bill: “*SNIIIIIFF* Mmmm, ahhh~ *SNIIIIIIIFF* Ahhhh~”

The fish swam away shortly after Bill’s audible sniffs and moans, making Joe mildly upset.

Joe: “*Grumbles* Shh!”

He said to his brother who nodded and kept his foot huffing quieter, which made Joe happy. It was only one fish and they had just started so it wasn’t something to sour his mood all too much. Dozen’s of minutes pass and Joe felt a little tug in his line, his first catch of the day! Unfortunately at this time is when Bull started licking Joe’s feet, delivering long, hard, and sloppy lick us up and down his brother’s feet, cutting through the grime and lapping up the his sweat, and pitching one hell of a tent in his jeans.

Bill: “*LIIIIIIICk Ohhhh, mmm!*LICK LICK LICK* Sho goo’!”

Bill said betwen licks, causing more fish to swim away, trying Joe’s patience as he glared at Bill and taking his feet back, to Bill’s dismay.

Joe: “I told ya to be quiet when yer lickin’ my feet.”

Joe angrily whispered as he turned around, denying Bill further access to his stompers.

Bill: “I’m sorry, Joe, I couldn’t help it. Gimme another chance, brother, please!”

Bill pleaded quietly, clasping his hands together. Joe sighed before turning around and plopping his feet back in Bill’s lap.

Joe: “Ya got one more chance, make another peep and you don’t get them for a week.”

Bill nodded before lifting Joe’s feet to his face, sticking his grimey pinky toe in his mouth, swirling the dirty digit in his mouth as he sucked all the dirty and sweat off before shifting his lips to his next toe and repeating the process. Joe sighed in contentment at the relatively quiet scenery, now he could finally fish in peace. Not long after Bill reached Joe’s second toe he felt a strong tug on his line and reeled in the bad boy, causing his toes to curl and squirm in Bill’s mouth.

Joe: “This one’s a fighter!”

Joe called out as he pulled back against the fish as he accidentally began shoving his toes in Bill’s mouth, filling his mouth with his dirty digits.

Bill: “Mmphmmgh!”

Bill’s cries were muffled by Joe’s toes as they were shoved deeper in his mouth, talking against the roof of his mouth, and curling along his tongue. This caused a strange reaction, Bill’s cock began to violently throb and leak precum.

Joe: “Almost got ya, ya sunova gun!”

Joe cried, twisting and turning his body trying to tire the fish out, not realizing his feet were crowding his older brother’s mouth, but also pinning him against the side of the boat. Bill knew calling out to Joe was pointless now that he had a fish in his line, so he laid there and ensured Joe gagging him with his feet as his cock continued to throb and drip precum at an alarming rate.

Joe: “Aaaaabd now yeeeeer mine!”

He called out as he lifts his line high in the air with a large mouth bass on the end. Joe smiled victoriously as he reeled in his catch, holding the line as the bass flopped around while taking his feet out of Bill’s mouth, firmly planting them on the floor in a small puddle of Bill’s salivia.

Joe: “Whoee! Look at the size of this bad boy, brother! Uh, you okay?”

Joe asked as he tilted his head at Joe, his head thrown back and leaning over the boat, panting, his face covered in salaivia and dirt, and a big cum stain on the front of his pants. Joe shrugged, unhooking the bass and tossing it in the bucket of water before tossing his line in the water again and resting his now clean feet on his brother’s face, and Bill instinctively sniffed and licked Joe’s feet, not ever getting enough of them. Bill’s fishing rob smacked against the boat, catching Joe’s attention.

Joe: “Uh, brother, ya got a bite.”

Bill: “Mmhm.”

Bill responded nonchalantly, grabbing his poll and tossing it to Joe who happily began reeling it in.

Joe and Bill: ‘It’s so nice fishin’ with you.’

They both thought as they savored the moment of brotherly bonding, and the day hadn’t even started yet.