Author Topic: Trample Story at a Salsa Fest  (Read 2344 times)

Offline wraith

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Trample Story at a Salsa Fest
« on: December 24, 2009, 03:04:11 PM »
[hide]Trample Story at a Salsa Fest    
    
Story summary   
    
tags: Now this is what I call a story, Thanks Sparky, for a great Story.   
    
In my quest for adventure, I like to travel to small town festivals, events, or other assorted sordid happen-in's. That when I put on my photojournalist disguise including my vest with a gazillion pockets and my Indiana Jones fedora hat. With all of my photographic equipment hanging off of my shoulders, I look pretty damn official.

The last few festivals I have been to has panned-out beautifully in regard to finding feet action. At the Summer Six-Pac celebration in Austin, I actually fomented a trample fest at the show. At the Wild Hawg Cook-Off in Swinney Switch, I met a chick bass player for a country-western band of whom later trampled me and then, about a month ago, came by the ranch on her way back from San Antonio, picked me up, and took me to Corpus to spend the weekend with her!

For those who like Celtic / Renaissance music, there is the "Prickly Pear Irish Fair" in George West. During the course of dancing jigs with a 'paint' o' Guinness in hand reminiscent of the party scene below decks in the film "Titanic," I met this gal who took a liking to me. She started hanging with me as I went around taking pictures.

She was dressed 'techno-industrio' style like Trinity in "The Matrix." The first thought I had when I first ran into her was how neat it would be for her to tromp on me with her knee-high boots.

The opportunity came when we walked into the wooded area behind the Folklore Theatre to 'burn one.' To the beat of the music emanating from the theatre, she was prancing around Irish style where her legs and feet move like crazy and her upper body is held rigidly upright.

She started doing kicks while she danced around and then aimed one at me. I carried on by making a sound effect of contact, "Doosch!" and then animating an action of being knocked flat on my back. She pranced up to me while I was still on my back and then she looked at me with this obsequiously naughty grin. Before I had a chance to say anything, she stepped on me; right on my member! All I uttered was, "Love your boots!" She giggled and continued prancing around and stepping on and off of me as part of her choreography.

So, the last three events I went to, I was able to score some foot play. Last weekend, I went to the "Salsa Fest" in Three Rivers which is about the half-way point between San Antonio and Corpus Christi. I went with great optimism that I would once again, score.

Oh, boy! Did I ever score!

The Salsa Fest is a hot-sauce competition and a Tejano music festival. There were also attractions, arts and crafts, flea market, food, beer, and live music and dance acts. There were chicks out the ass and I was having a ball carrying-on like Austin Powers taking pictures of the babes while they model and pose for me. "Oooooh, be-haaaaave!"


The first gal I befriended at the event was a gal named Mercedes. She was a singer for one of the Mariachi acts and she approached me while I was taking pictures of three hot babes who did a singing / dancing act. After I took some close-up pictures of their strappy sandals, Mercedes leaned up to me and told me in her Spanish accent, "You must have a 'chew' fetish."

"Something like that." I responded.



Mercedes pulled up her pant leg exposing her shoe and placed her foot on the side of the stage. "Do you like these?" she quipped. I took a picture and then, she started posing giddily for me. In one pose, she took the end of a string of lights that look like red chili peppers and struck a pose like she was going to bite into it. I snapped the picture which wound-up being the headline photo for the whole event! (The top photo on the page.)


I walked around for a while looking for other 'Kodak moments.' Over at the Moon Bounce attraction, I noticed that the woman taking tickets admitting kids into the attraction was standing on a sand bag. Thinking about how closely that resembles a chest stand, I snapped a picture.


After making a circuit around the event getting crowd shots, people cutting-up; being themselves, and feet shots, I ran into Mercedes again and she introduced me to a couple of her friend.


There was a band setting-up that had a lot of pieces: a horn section, a drummer and a percussionist on a bank of timbales, and a percussionist on congas. They just started playing. Their music was in the manner of Santana, but it was their own stuff and the party started rocking!

Iris kicked-in and started dancing to the beat. That's when I noticed her boots. I framed her boots in my viewfinder close-up and started shooting. They were cowboy boots. Her heels were about three inches tall with a slight taper.


I made some kind of comment like, "I see they are made for walk-en'."
Iris started singing the Nancy Sinatra classic as she stepped in her boots. At that time, I had no idea that ". . .one of these days. . ." would be tonight!

After that, all I could think about was how fine it would be to be trod-upon with those boots.

It started getting late and the show was winding-down. Mercedes came up to me and asked me if there was a liquor store near-by. Three Rivers was dry in liquor and the closest one was between George West and Beeville; off of the Interstate about 20 klicks away.

She wanted to get some tequila and she invited me to join her in trading some shots.

Well, you know what a magnanimous person I am. How can I turn something like that down?!!

Mercedes went around getting 'booze orders' from the people in her band and we went to her pick-up, disconnected the trailer that carried their equipment, and set off for George West.

While disconnecting the trailer, I noticed that her license tags were from Nuevo Leon, Mexico. After we got going, I asked her if she was from Monterrey.

"¡Oralé! She exclaimed. "¡Yo soy de Monterrey!" She went on and told me about her family. She is fifth-generation of a family of performers. She also told me that she's never been married which to me is quite unusual for a 27 year-old gal from the interior of Mexico. Usually, they get married in their teens and punch-out 4 kids by the time they are 20. During that time, they usually quit shaving their legs and gain a couple of hundred pounds to boot.

I got a kick out of her accent and when she brought-up my 'chew' fetish, I split a gut. That's when I told her in a Cheech Marin accent, "I guess you got married to 'cho' business."

"Jew bet!she quipped."

Iris had booked her combo for over 50 performances over the next three months. Mercedes told me that the bookings couldn't have come at a better time. They needed the work.

We finally got back and Mercedes disbursed the booze. Iris and Liz were being interviewed by KIII, TV 3 Eyewitness News, the ABC affiliate from Corpus, so we held their bottle of Jack Daniels for them. We then went to her room at the Best Western.

When we got inside, Mercedes sat down and let out a long exhale. They drove straight from Monterrey all night and arrived just in time to set up their stuff and do their show. Now, she can finally let her hair down.

While I was cutting-up a lime and getting some shots of Cuervo Gold ready, Mercedes went into the bath room to do exactly that. When she came out, she also changed into a short black skirt. She looked so fine with her hair down along with her skirt and shoes that I almost dropped the tequila bottle. Oh, the way she did that walk when she came up to me made my knees weak!

I offered her a chair and she sat down. I sat down and passed her a shot glass and a piece of lime. We both wet the back of our hands with the limes there on the side between the thumb and the forefinger. I shook some salt on the wetted parts of our hands and we held up our glasses.

"¡Salud!" we both shouted as we touched glasses and gulped our shots.

We did two more in rapid succession and while nibbling on our pieces of lime as a sorbé to clear the palette, she brought up the fetish. While doing so, she raised her foot up in the air. I held her shoe in my hands and pecked on her ankle with little 'minnow kisses.' She shuddered and got all goose-bumpily. I looked at her and she was grinning ear-to-ear with this real pleasurable look on her face. That's when she opened-up.

'Jew know, I always had this thing for my 'chews.' Even when I was a little girl, I like nice chews. I would walk around and look for things to step on."

(Needless to say, she had my full attention!)

Mercedes went on, "I like the sounds my chews make when I walk around. I never like to wear soft chews."

"Did you ever walk on any guys?" I asked her.

"There was this one muchacho who always kept bothering me when I was in school. He would pull my hair, 'choot' me with a water pistol, throw food at me during lunch, jew know, that kind of 'chit.' He thought he was a real chingón." (big shot)

We both grinned and started chuckling. That's when I felt a heel press up against my crotch. I looked down and then, back up toward her. With this 'chit,' digo (I mean) shit eatin' grin on her face, she passed me her 'chot,' digo shot glass. I poured another round and cut up another lime. We raised our glasses and hooked our arms around each other Russian style and slammed the shots. At the same time, we turned our glasses up-side-down and slammed them onto the table.

"Good! No scraps!" I said.

"Scraps?" she queried.

"When you drink a shot and turn the glass over, and you see gotas (drops) fall on the table, you have scraps and then you have to drink another and another until there are no scraps, you know, sin gotas. How do you say, 'I want to see drops.' in Spanish?"

"Quiero ver gotas." she said slowly.

"¿Quieres vergotas?" I came back at her quickly.

She turned red because she realised she was set-up. Whenever you put 'ver' (to see) and 'gotas' (drops) together as one word, 'vergotas,' it means 'big dicks.' I did note her response when I felt a heel jab against my tender cojónes.

When I exclaimed, "¡Ah cavrón!" we both went ROTFLOL!

Mercedes went on with her story: "We were doing a dress rehearsal for a Christmas play called 'La Posada.' I played the part of María. My Mom made me this really beautiful outfit to wear in the play. 'Chee' got me these beautiful black-patent mary-janes that had three-inch heels that I just adored! We were going to do the scene where they break the piñata and I'm supposed to be against breaking it because it was too beautiful to be broken."

"Anyway, we took a break before rehearsing that scene and Enrique, the boy who always kept bothering me 'chot' this red ink all over my white blouse. Oh, I was so mad at him! It was disappearing ink, but I didn't know it at the time. When everyone else started laughing at me, I lost my temper and I kicked him right in the huevos!"

"Dammmmmn!" I said.

"When he doubled-over, everyone else quit laughing. I walked around behind him, kicked him in the butt - hard, and he fell to the floor. Now, everyone was laughing at him. When he tried to get up, I leaped up and rammed both of my heels into his back as hard as I could! I can't remember what I was saying when I was stomping on him, but I was cussing at him for messing-up my blouse and for all the other times he messed with me. Enrique was screaming for me to get off of him."

"I got off of him and walked around to where his head was. I told him to promise me that he wouldn't mess with me any more. When he didn't say anything, I pressed his head against the floor with my 'chew.' He still didn't give. When I stood on his head, he started screaming again. I stepped onto his back and told him to promise me again. With every word I said, it came with a heel stomp.'

He finally gave-in, "I promise! I promise!"

I looked at Mercedes and noticed a pleased look on her face. I reached out with my hands toward her and she reached out and took mine. "Jew know," she went on, "I made him seal his vows by kissing the bottom of my 'chew.' I did that to 'crutch' his ego."

"Oh, I bet that put his knickers in a twist!" I quipped. While pouring another round, I went on, "Of course, that wouldn't be a problem for me."

"Why not?" she asked.

Chuckling, I told her, "I have a 'chew' fetish, remember?"

We cracked-up again while we slammed our shots. I stood up and reached out to her. She took my hands and stood up likewise. We hugged each other and then I gave her a tender kiss. I literally felt her melt in my arms. Before 'going down' to worship her feet, we just stood there locked in a tight embrace.

Utilizing my standard operating procedure for going down to worship a gal's feet, I slowly dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around her buns. I gave them a tight squeeze as I pressed the side of my head against her abs. She reached down inside the back of my shirt and started stroking my neck with my finger tips. As I wiggled, I reached up under her skirt and gave her buns a squeeze with both hands. She took her hands and press my head against her - hard. I started stroking the back of her legs from her heel straps to her buns with my finger tips. As I was doing so, her knees got weak and she damn near fell down on top of me!

When she leaned forward and pushed me back, I slipped my head inside her skirt when we righted ourselves. I worked my way down to her feet. As I did so, I was kissing and licking her legs as I went. I finally made it to the prone position wherein, I started showering her feet and ankles with kisses. While I was kissing one foot, she was using the other to stroke my head and shoulders. I then rolled over on my back. Mercedes instinctively raised her right foot and held it over my face and then slowly lowered the sole of her shoe onto my lips. After giving her sole a few kisses, she put her foot down and raised her other one over my face. "You better kiss this one, too. It"s starting to get jealous!" she quipped.

During the course of giving her feet my personal undivided attention, I introduced her shoes to my fingers. She began by pressing my fingers with her toes and then started squishing them with her heels. She was actually getting turned-on and I suggested that she do some 'walk-by's." She must have walked back-and-forth at least a dozen times in front of me stepping on my fingers with both her soles and heels. "Jew know?" she said. "We need some walking music."

She opened up a large case that was full of CD's. I noticed one of them she pulled out was by Bon Jovi. "That's it!" I exclaimed.

"What's it?" she asked.

"The 'walking' music!" I responded. "Living on a Prayer!"

While she was loading the disc into her 'ghetto blaster,' I started talking to her about walking up and down my back. Through my experience in training ladies to trample, I knew that the initial tendency is for gals to walk 'carefully' down my back. I told Mercedes that 'careful' walking tends to be a bit unstable. The secret is to 'power-walk' down my back using the analogy of riding a bicycle. "You try to ride real slow and it's hard to control. You are just wiggle in all over the place. With a little speed, you're stable. Of course, walking the beat to 'Living on a Prayer' will set the right cadence for a great back walk; especially in those 'chews'."

Mercedes started the song and when she heard the first few bars, she knew exactly what I meant! I laid back down on the floor and held out my hands. She began walking on my fingers to the beat and then she began trodding up and down my back. After a few times, she started getting in to it and began walking on me more aggressively. I was literally in heaven!

After the song ended, she got off of me and I stood up. She let out a long exhausting exhale and that's when I noticed that she really broke a sweat. I complimented her on how fine she is and kissed her hands. We began hugging and kissing each other passionately and just about the time we were going to jump into the sack and do the 'wild thing,' there was a knock on the door. It was Iris and Liz!

Mercedes opened the door and as they came in, Iris asked, "What have you two been up to?"

Without mincing any words, Mercedes just came right out and said, "I've been walking on him!"

I was sitting on the side of the bed and when the gals all looked at me with these naughty grins on their faces, I turned red. "Dammmmmmn!" I said. "Not much for small-talk, are you?"

All three gals began chuckling and Iris exclaimed, "I need a drink!"

"Me, too!" said Liz.

I got up and said, "Here, I'll get some ice." I grabbed the ice bucket and left the room for the ice machine. When I got back, they had four plastic cups sitting on the table so, I went ahead and filled them up with ice. Iris poured the JD in to the cups and damn-near filled them up to the top. I added some Coke, but there wasn't enough room in the cups to even pour a shot of Coke in them. We each grabbed a cup, held them up, and then slurped our drinks. Boy! That was stiff!

"This needs a little more Coke." said Liz. We all sat down our cups and I added more Coke. We had to slurp some more and add more Coke to get it right.

What I didn't know was that after I met Mercedes and before she introduced me to Iris and Liz, she already told them about my 'chew' fetish. It was then that they decided to have a 'play party' with me.

During the course of having our drinks, Iris asked Mercedes about what we were up-to.

"Here, I'll 'cho' you." Mercedes motioned me to the floor. After I got down into position, she walked down my back and restarted the disc. She walked back to me and stood on my buns and began lecturing, "Jew know, when you walk on a guy, you have to do it fast; like this." She began trodding up and down on me a few times. "If you try to be too careful, you might fall down because it gets unstable."

She stepped back on me and demonstrated. She was actually exaggerating the instability by rocking my body from side-to-side. She rolled me too far to the left and she fell off of me and bhagwaned on the bed.

Iris took a sip and said, "I see what you mean." She then sat her drink down and got up and walked toward me. "Like this?" She walked the floor in front of me pounding her heels into the carpet really hard. Hard enough to smash my fingers had they been in the way.

Of course, I knew she was being facetious, and I uttered, "Oh, you can 'bitch-walk' on me to your heart's content!" Mercedes got off of me and Iris began trodding on me with her boots. While she was doing that, Mercedes began squishing my fingers. She motioned to Liz and had her take over squishing my fingers in her Candies. Mercedes sat down and picked up her drink and watched them do their thing!

After the song was over, they got off of me and we all went back to the table to finish our drinks. That's when I noticed that Iris had also broken a sweat as well.

"I need to get out of these jeans." Iris said and left the room. She came back in wearing a short denim skirt and I was able to notice that the tops of her cowboy boots go right up to just below her knees. Nice!

Meanwhile, Mercedes selected some discs with music from the heart of Mexico. We all finished our drinks and when Mercedes started the disk, I assumed the position again and the gals began dancing and treading on me in a 'follow-the-leader' fashion.

We took another break and I took the bedspread off the bed and started folding it. I think Mercedes had an idea what I was up to and began helping me. I laid it back on the bed and then added some more ice in our cups. One ice cube missed the cup, hit the table, and slid off onto the floor. Iris got up and stomped the ice cube under her heel. She then gave me this 'look' while I was starting to pouring her drink. As I lowered the bottle, she reached out with her hand and pushed the bottom of the bottle back up to fill the cup a little more. Once, again there was only enough room in the cup for a slight splash of Coke. I fixed the others, but not as strong for Mercedes and myself. We already had a head start from slamming those shots of tequila and they needed to catch-up.

When it was time for me to hit the floor again, I laid down this time face-up. Mercedes laid the bed spread on top of me and started another disc. She then stepped up on me and began dancing in place. Each took their turn. It then went to one standing on my chest while the other would dance on the bedspread covering my abs and crotch.

As we got looser, the dancing turned into a game of 'Queen of the hill' where one of the gals would push one of the other two off of me and take their place on top of me.

As time went on, the dancing got more and more aggressive. I laid down again after a break and Iris and Mercedes slid the mattress off the end of the bed enough to cover me and began jumping on me - hard. Gawd, I was loving this shit!

I don't recall how the party ended, but when my beady little eyes opened the next morning, I was laying on the bed with my clothes on with Mercedes and Liz cuddled-up next to me with their clothes on all sharing one pillow. I raised up my body and I saw Iris on the floor lying on the bedspread with the other pillow.

When I raised up, I noticed that my whole body was sore; especially my ribs, chest, and my lower abs. When the gals eventually came back to life, all three were complaining about their leg muscles being sore. I would have to admit one thing: we all had quite a work-out!

THE END

Sparky[/hide]

Offline femaleworship

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Re: Trample Story at a Salsa Fest
« Reply #1 on: June 09, 2017, 04:22:21 AM »
interesting

 

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