Length: 1,002 words
It's Valentine's Day, and Matt has a special evening in mind for Vic to accommodate his lover's foot fetish.
This short, erotic romp was originally written as a flash fiction story on spec for Ruthie's Club, and doesn't mention any of the superhero powers or special abilities the two men share. Since it's no longer available online, I've decided to make it available to those who love these guys as much as I do!
NOTE: You don't have to read any other Vic and Matt story to understand what happens in this one! A small section appears in Matt's thoughts in the story, "Matching Tats," so you don't have to download this if you've already read that. But if you're a diehard Vic and Matt fan, you'll want to add this to your collection.
NOTE: This story appears in my print collection, Vic and Matt Book I: Origins.
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.
Vic Braunson was a foot man, and his long-time lover, Matt diLorenzo, had extremely large, sexy, masculine feet. The long, curved toes ended in square-shaped pads, the nails were straight and trim, the soles supple and pliant in Vic's hand. Often when they were home together, at the dinner table or on the couch watching TV, Vic always had one of Matt's feet in his lap, the heel pressed against his crotch or his fingers laced through Matt's toes.
So when he woke on Valentine’s Day to find a foot-shaped gel insole on Matt’s pillow and his lover nowhere in sight, Vic knew something was, as they say, afoot. Sitting up, he let the bed sheets fall from his nude body and stretched in the early morning chill. Goosebumps pimpled his arms and legs. “Matt?”
Vic picked up the insole and found the note beneath it. Happy V-Day, it read in Matt’s blockish scrawl. Find the other foot.
Pushing himself off the bed, Vic sighed. It was too early for this. Padding naked to the bathroom, he growled, “Matt.”
From somewhere in the apartment, he heard Matt’s breathless snicker.
So this was a game, of sorts. Vic wondered what Matt might have in mind. Something sinful, he hoped, that ended with the both of them in bed again. He hated waking up alone.