Perverts' Anonymous Summer Session

This is a Summer Lovin' contest story. Please give me the support of your vote.

Perverts hold their first support meeting but something goes awry.

"Welcome everyone to Perverts' Anonymous, the Summer Session," said Joe, a forty-something-year-old, average looking man. "Actually, being that this is our first meeting, presently, this is the only seasonal session but we hope to have more Perverts' Anonymous meetings in all the seasons and in cities all over the country," said Joe with a prideful smile.

"Thank you, Joe," said a few people from the crowd who obviously knew how Overeaters Anonymous, Alcoholics Anonymous, and Narcotics Anonymous works.

"When I had this idea to start a Perverts' Anonymous chapter, I first needed to admit that I was a pervert, not an easy thing admit. With my perversion taking control of my life, I had to admit that I needed help, again not so easy to admit. Obviously with the warmer summer temperatures people wear less clothes and, more than any other season, summer is the season that I need the most help controlling my perversion." Joe paused while looking out over the group with sadness.

"I feel for you, brother. The summer is my most difficult time too," said someone from the audience.

"Seeing you all here ready to tell your story and offer your support to those telling their stories, I wish I had a support group years ago," continued Joe ignoring the interruption. "Much like many of you do, I carried the weight of my sexual perversion alone and in secret from my family and friends. Unless I was obvious in my leer and careless with my intention, no one knew I was a pervert but me." He looked from person to person with sadness. "Bearing the brunt of all my guilt, it was hard carrying that heavy, dark load of perversion alone."

"What are the rules, Joe?" A voice from the crowd interrupted Joe's speech again.

"Rules? There are no rules here, per se. You attend when you feel the need to talk about your perversion. If we find that we need more rules, we can make our own rules as we go along. For now, the only rules are there's no masturbation in this room, especially while someone is telling their story. Masturbating while someone is telling their story is just wrong. Counterproductive on so many levels, public masturbation is just nasty, especially while at a Perverts' Anonymous meeting. Being that we're all perverts and perverted in one way or another, with some more perverted than others, there are some obvious rules of decorum that we need to follow," said Joe looking out over the crowd. "This is a no smoking and no cell phone area. There's no recording of anyone by video or audio," he said pointing to the no smoking, no cell phone, and no recording signs taped to the wall.

"Can we still carry our cell phones with us, so long as they're turned off?" Asked a woman waving her hand, as if she was in school and Joe was her teacher.

"Yes," said Joe. "So long as cell phones are turned off for the duration of our session, you may have your cell phones with you."

"Is that it? Is that all the rules?" Asked someone else.

"Because the nature of this meeting is trying to help one another with our personal perversions, there's no hooking up with anyone while in this room. You can hookup outside and on your own time but not here. We're here to help one another with their sexual peccadilloes and not encourage random sexual activity that will work against them getting the help they need. Lastly, unless invited to speak by the speaker, there are no questions and comments allowed while someone is talking. We want this to be a secure and friendly environment, a place where people feel free and safe enough to tell us their story, without us unfairly judging them to make them feel bad enough not to return," said Joe looking around the room.

"How do we begin?" Asked another voice from the crowd.

"Being that I'm already standing here, I'll begin by showing everyone how it's done," said Joe putting both hands on the podium, raising his chin, and looking out over the crowd of perverts. "I'm Joe. I'm a pervert and I need help," he said proudly, while surveying the sea of faces.

"Hi Joe," said the group as a whole.

"My perversion is women's feet. Being that this summer season has been unduly warm, I've been bombarded with visions of women's feet. With all the women's naked feet and exposed toes here tonight, I'm having a hard time controlling myself from staring, leering, touching, feeling, sniffing and licking women's feet and sucking their toes," said Joe with a sad laugh. "Just as the female foot is my pleasure, the female foot is my demon. Even though women's feet are my sexual weakness, unfortunately, most women don't share my foot fetish."

"You can suck my toes any time, Joe," said a man in the audience with a laugh.

"Thank you, but I'm not into men," said Joe. "Anyway, whether bare, covered in gym socks, netted with nylon, or hidden from view in shoes, I love women's feet. Most women's feet are so delicately divine. Feet, feet, feet, I can't get enough of women's feet. As a way to continue to feed my perversion, literally a fox in a henhouse and possessing the patience of a saint, excitingly, albeit sometimes frustratingly, I work in a women's shoe store helping women select shoes. Needing to make a living and with jobs difficult to find, I can't quit my job for the sake of helping my perversion. Instead, I'm hoping that these meetings will keep my foot fetish in check while working at the shoe store."

Some late arrivals entered the room and Joe stopped talking and smiled while waiting for them to take a seat.

"If any of you are into up skirts, I could tell you a few stories about some of the exhibitionistic women who regularly shop the shoe store to try on shoes, correction to flash me their panties, that is, if they're even wearing panties," he said with a laugh. "I had no idea what exhibitionists women can be until I squatted down in front of them to fit them with shoes. One particular woman, a good looking blonde, comes in from time to time to try on boots a size too small. Obvious in her intent to flash me her panty, instead of allowing me to correctly size her foot and bring her a boot that fits, she struggles to force her foot in a boot too small. Playing the part of the panty voyeur instead of the foot fetish pervert, I allow her to flash me for the sake of spending more quality time with her feet. Trying on boot after too small boot, while opening her knees wider and raising her legs higher, she gives me a good show of her panty clad, pussy mound and pussy slit," he said while eying a blonde sitting in the front row as if she looked familiar and as if he recognized her.

"Is the shoe store looking for help?" Asked a pervert from the audience. "I wouldn't mind working that job, helping women try on shoes, while ogling their panties and pussies all day," he said with a twisted laugh.

"Unless invited by the speaker, no comments, please," said Joe playing dual roles as host and as speaker. "Anyway, I had an erection my entire workday, not so much from seeing women's panties and pussies but from touching, feeling, and caressing women's naked and stocking covered feet," he said with a shrug. "Now no longer able to control my sexual perversion, I can't help myself from leering at and wanting to feel women's feet, which is why I started Perverts' Anonymous and why I'm here," he said looking down the line of the women who sat in the first, few rows with their feet so shamelessly, albeit innocently exposed.

Obviously, now knowing Joe's admitted sexual perversion was podophilia, the worshiping of feet, specifically women's feet, the most common form of sexual fetishism, they saw him leering at their feet. All the women who sat in the first, few rows tucked their feet back beneath their chairs and out of sight of his perverted, leering eyes, that is, all except for one woman. A brazenly bold but beautiful, blue eyed, busty, blonde woman sitting in the front row, instead of making her feet and toes less obvious by hiding them beneath her chair, as if unmercifully teasing poor Joe, stretched out her long, shapely legs and wiggled, curled, and splayed open her red polished toes in her sandals. Oblivious to a man who didn't have a foot fetish, her erotic foot display may have gone unnoticed had she not been purposely flashing her exposed feet and wiggling her toes to a man who already confessed a serious foot fetish.

Admittedly, even if one wasn't a pervert with a foot fetish, calling attention to herself by shamelessly flashing her feet and wiggling her toes, indeed, she had beautiful feet, feet that any man or women would love to massage, lick, and suck for him or her to have his or her way with her pussy. Any man or woman with a foot fetish or not while in the throes of having sex with her, undoubtedly, would want to suck her sexy toes. Looking as if he were a man dying of thirst and needing a drink, wiping his hand across his gaping mouth while staring at her feet, the action of her moving toes made him give her his undivided attention before he collected himself and resumed speaking.

"I love anything that has to do with women's feet, shoes, stockings, toenail polish, and foot massages, especially foot massages," said Joe directing his speech to the blonde woman's wiggling toes instead of to the crowd. "My real weakness, I can't give women enough foot massages. Holding and caressing their feet in my horny hands, I love giving women foot massages. With so many exposed feet, the summer is my most difficult time for me to control my foot fetish, which is why I decided to start Perverts' Anonymous as a support group to help those with sexual problems that control their lives," he said repeating himself for more stranglers who entered the meeting late. "Women's feet are controlling my life but now I'm hopeful that I can conquer my dark monster. Thank you," said Joe.

"Thank you for sharing, Joe," said the group applauding.

"If you'd like share your sexual perversion story with us, we'll not judge you. I'm not a medical doctor, a psychologist, or a psychiatrist. I'm just a fellow pervert who understands how sexual needs can control someone's life. We're all just here to listen, understand, learn, and support your struggle to be free of your dark, sexual passenger. Perhaps there are those who will never get up to tell us their story and share their perversion with us but, instead, who receive help from just listening to the struggle of others with their sexual perversions. That's okay. There's no pressure for anyone to speak. Maybe, one day, they'll want to share their story with us too," he said pausing to look from person to person with a caring, compassionate, and understanding smile.

"I implore you to team up with another member as your personal sponsor to help you with controlling your perversion. You must understand that you cannot stop your perversion alone," he said pointing a warning with his index finger while leaning an elbow on the podium. "The sexual urge is too overwhelmingly strong for you to harness it alone. One more thing, being that this isn't a dating club, you should team up with a member of the same sex. Those of you who are gay or lesbian should team up with partners of the opposite sex. Also, it will help you to overcome your struggle more by teaming up with someone who shares or compliments and thereby better understands your perversion."

"What do you mean by teaming up with someone who compliments our perversion?" Asked someone from the audience.

"Perhaps, someone who enjoys bondage can team up with someone who enjoys discipline or an exhibitionist can team up with a voyeur, that is, so long as they're of the same sex," said Joe. "Just as we wouldn't want a woman who enjoys bondage teaming up with a man who enjoys discipline, we wouldn't want a female exhibitionist who's trying to control the urge to expose herself to a team up with male sponsor who enjoys looking," said Joe suddenly enjoying the spotlight of being the expert on perversions.

"Thank you. I understand," said the person who asked the question.

"What's your perversion?" Joe stood tall as if he was the main speaker at a self-help seminar. Surprised that there were as many women needing help with their sexual perversions as there were men, Joe looked out over the audience of a mixture of 100 men and women. "What's your perversion? That sounds like a good title for a game show, doesn't it? What's your perversion?" He looked around the room again as if he was an auctioneer looking for the last, high bid. "Would anyone like to share your perversion with us and tell us your story why you feel that perverted sex is controlling your life?"

"I'd like to tell my story," said a man in his 50's.

Looking as if he was already on death row, he stood and slowly walked to the front of the room. He walked with his head hung as if walking the aisle of a courtroom ready to confess his crime to the court, receive his verdict from the jury, and accept his sentence from the judge. Just looking at him, in the way that he carried himself, slowly walked, and turned his lowered head from side to side while staring at everyone, he looked like a pervert. The type of man that a father would take his daughter's hand and/or his wife's arm and cross the street, when seeing him leering and coming toward him, nonetheless, the man needed to be commended for realizing that he had a sexual problem and wanted help.

"C'mon up," said Joe encouraging him with a wave of his hand and clap of applause.

Joe's applause evoked more applause from the rest of the audience. The man walked up to the podium to shake Joe's hand and turned to look out over the group to share his story.

"Hi, I'm Larry. I'm a pervert and I need help," he said wiping a bit of drool from his mouth while staring at some of the women in the audience.

"Hi Larry," said everyone.

"The same as Joe, the summer time with women wearing less clothes, is my most difficult time of the year for me to control my perversion. What's my perversion? I'm a voyeur. I enjoy spying on women. That's my perversion," he said pausing his speech to put his head down and to stare at the floor as if he was thinking or had suddenly fallen asleep. Then, the man looked up at the ceiling as if addressing God or an imaginary person that suddenly appeared in the room.

"Thank you," said Joe thinking that Larry was done talking. He took a step forward to reclaim the podium and stepped back when he realized that Larry wasn't quite finished speaking. "Sorry."

"My sexual perversion started when I was just a boy," said Larry leaning forward to put two, hands on the podium to stare out at the crowd. "I used to play with my Matchbox cars on my linoleum, kitchen floor. Playing on the floor was my pretense to peer up my mother, my sister, my aunts, and my cousin's skirts. Oh, yeah, countless times, I've seen all of their panties over and again. My entire life has been filled with a preoccupation of up skirts and down blouses, mostly up skirts," he said clenching his white knuckled fists before raising his arm high. "I can't get enough of seeing panties, especially bright white, tight, cotton, bikini panties, my favorite panty to see. Not green, red, yellow, and blue, perhaps because I went to parochial school, I love bright white, tight, cotton bikini panties," he said raising his voice in the way that Hitler mesmerized a gathered crowd. "Panties, panties, panties, panties, I love seeing panties."

The same blonde, pretty woman who stuck out her sandal clad feet and wiggled her toes at Joe, suddenly hiked up her short skirt nearly to her crotch and parted her knees. As if she was imitating Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct, as if she was a baseball player sitting on the dugout bench with his legs spread wide open, obviously an exhibitionist, calling attention to her panty, she slowly crossed and uncrossed her legs without pulling down her short skirt. With her skirt climbing higher and her knees parting wider, she smiled while flashing Larry a deliberate up skirt look of her bright white, tight, cotton, bikini panty. Larry stopped what he was saying to leer and Joe, seeing the woman's obvious panty flash too, wrinkled his brow and silently shook his head at her. Sufficiently admonished enough by Joe to stop her flashing, the woman uncrossed her legs, fluffed down her skirt, and cemented her knees together, as if she was sitting in church.

"I can't tell you how many panties, bras, naked pussies, and bare breasts I've seen," continued Larry looking from the blonde to the audience and back to the blonde. "Hoping to see something that I shouldn't see, a down blouse view or an up skirt peek," he said looking at the blonde woman again. "I spend my days riding the subway and the bus line. Like Joe, I've even thought about working in a woman's shoe store. I wish I could, but not with my bad back," he said looking over at Joe and giving him a smile. "Sorry, but I need some water. Suddenly, I'm parched."

Joe poured him a cup of water and handed it to him.

"Here you are, Larry."

"Thank you, Joe," said Larry sipping some water before continuing.

"You're welcome, Larry."

"On windy days downtown, with those skyscrapers creating quite the wind tunnel and with the backs of women's skirts blowing and billowing up as if flags flying, is one of my favorite places to be. The mall is another of my favorite haunts too. Evoking a memory of playing with my Matchbox cars, staying back a few steps, I follow women wearing short skirts up an escalator and bend forward just as they reach the top to look up at their panties while pretending to tie my shoe," said Larry looking down with face full of sudden remorse.

"Pervert," said a woman from the back of the room.

"Quiet please," said Joe.

"Oblivious to me staring and leering, I can't tell you how many miles I've walked in the hopes of getting an eyeful. I love watching women sitting on the grass in the park and having their lunch with their skirts hiked up as high as my hope and their legs opened as wide as my eyes are ready to see something," said Larry looking at Joe and the blonde woman before abruptly returning to his seat.

"Thank you for sharing, Larry," said Joe giving him his appreciation with applause. "Is there someone else, who'd like to tell us their perversion and share their story with us?"

"I'd like to share my perversion," said a man standing up and walking to the front.

"That's great," said Joe applauding him and evoking more applause from the crowd.

"I'm Mike. I'm a pervert and I need help," he said taking his place behind the podium.

"Hi Mike," said the crowd.

"Just as up skirts and panties are Larry's perversion, tits and bras are my perversion. Without doubt, better than any other season, unless I lived in a much warmer climate, the summer season is my best time to see tits and my most difficult time to control my perversion. I like, correction, I love tits, titties, jugs, boobs, melons, tatas, knockers, breasts, air bags, bazookas, and big balloons. Whether fake or phony, the bigger the breasts the better. Not too small but not too big, my favorite tits are women with racks that are a C cup to a double D cup. Oh, yeah, tits are my thing," said Mike staring at women's breasts in the audience.

From his podium perch, Mike stopped talking to look from woman to woman, no doubt, by their reactions, to stare at their tits through their clothes. Under the leering heat of his stare, most women crossed their arms over their chests. Then, thinking that Mike was done talking, as he had prematurely done with Larry, Joe took a step forward to reclaim the podium.

"Sorry," said Joe, when he realized that Mike wasn't quite finished. "Please continue, Mike."