Caught in the locker room

This story is very realistic, perhaps you've seen it on other internet forums or story pages, and I think it's great that it's being shared so people can enjoy it.

I'd like to warn that this is a story about foot fetishism, so if you're looking for BDSM or domination, you might want to look for another story because this one is exclusively about feet.

Please share your honest opinion.

Last summer, I started saving up to become independent. I had several jobs that I could complement, one of which was cleaning the locker rooms of the local football team in my city. When I was hired, I thought I was the luckiest man on earth, since I adore feet and used socks, and I was going to be able to be in the locker rooms of a football team.

On the first day, I realized that not everything was as wonderful as I thought. My job consisted of cleaning the floor and showers, but I never coincided with the players, always entering half an hour after they left. Occasionally, I'd get lucky and there would still be some aroma left in the locker room that I'd inhale with excitement. Sometimes I'd search to see if someone had left a forgotten sock, but there was no luck.

For the first month, nothing relevant happened, but one day, while I was scrubbing, I found a sock. When I picked it up, I felt that it was very sweaty, and it was noticeable that it was damp. I smelled it, and it smelled very strong, but for me, who was desperate for feet, it seemed like the best smell in the world. I sat down on a wooden bench and started smelling it while I rubbed my cock over my pants.

"What the hell are you doing?" a voice said behind me.

I had completely forgotten where I was. I turned around and saw that it was one of the players I knew by sight, a pretty big and strong guy. In a different situation, I would have tried to escape.

"Were you smelling my sock?" He looked at me strangely. "But how can you be so gross?"

I didn't know where to hide, and I was already thinking that I was going to get fired and have to look for another job.

"Hey, asshole, I'm talking to you," he said, his tone rising more and more.

"I'm sorry," I said, so softly that I could barely hear my own voice.

"So you like going around smelling dirty socks," he said, a smile on his face that made me a bit nervous.

He dropped his backpack on the floor and approached me.

"It's mine," he said, "I forgot it and came back to look for it."

I handed him the sock so he could take it. He grabbed it, and when he was about to put it in his sports bag, he stopped thinking.

"I got pretty turned on finding you smelling my sock," he said, getting closer and closer to me. "Would you like to see my feet?"

The situation was quite uncomfortable, but I couldn't help getting excited at the idea of seeing his feet. I nodded, moving my head up and down.

He got up and locked th...