My younger self would always be on the lookout for buyers seeking used socks for sale.
Used socks for sale rarely have anyone but fetish buyers, and in college, I had a lot of socks to get rid of. So, one day, I decided to place an ad where I usually sold my panties (you can read the latest update on that here: Blackmail sex stories).
Marie Kondo, I think, would be proud of my college self. My socks no longer sparked joy, so I got rid of them. However, I didn’t give my socks away through the salvation army or through give-take boxes that peppered the hallways of my undergrad. As I stated above, I sold them. I put a pair up for 5 dollars once, hoping someone would want a ratty old pair of socks, some with holes in them.
Unsurprisingly, they were snapped up in seconds. Given that I didn’t think feet were sexy (oh, how my mind has changed), I hadn’t expected them to sell so quickly. Scrambling for another pair, I posted them at double the price. Quickly, those were snapped up as well.
I realized I had a new market, one that was much more varied than the panties market. I put an old pair of pantyhose up for sale, pointing out I had worn it to several clubs and they were nasty, but I put the price up at $100. “Used Socks for Sale”, I typed. “Nylon Stockings, Still Sweaty.”
They sold within an hour.
Meeting a Seller
Part of my appeal, when I look back on it, was that I was a young seller willing to meet with guys. If interested and in my city, I’d meet up with you. You could see my painted lips and my highlighted hair. My boobs would jiggle as I walked toward you in the parking lot.
If you looked closely, you’d see my next pair of thigh highs already on my legs.
One of my sellers was willing to pay 300 to have me take off my thigh highs in front of him. So I drove to the Olive Garden parking lot and parked next to his truck. He smirked as I opened my door in front of him. “Hey,” I told him, and I popped some bubblegum. At the time, I thought I’d look cool with it. Instead, I realize snapping my gum made me trashy.
But he seemed even more thrilled with it, asking my age. I told him; it wasn’t a good age for him, should he have been caught with me. But I did as he asked. I slipped my flats off and held up my foot.
Undressing my Legs
His fingers caressed the inside of my thigh for a moment before he could calm down his shaking enough to grip the elastic band. Inch by inch, the milky skin of my thigh exposed itself to the cold September air. In the Olive Garden parking lot, the weather a light drizzle, I could practically see his breath while he bent over, his grimy hands taking off one of my stockings in public.
He pulled it off of my foot, his body shaking. As agreed, he handed me the cash, and I put it in my purse, snapping my gum again.
I lifted my other foot, waiting for him to continue.
Want to smell my sweaty feet? You’d better call, then, for some foot fetish phone sex!
