My first Christmas away from home was when I was 28. My parents weren’t happy about me ditching them to spend the holidays with my boyfriend, Richie, but it was the first serious relationship I’d ever had and I wanted to spend Christmas with him. The first suggestion was bringing him home to my family but they lived several states away and honestly, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that just yet. That led us to Richie’s family who lived roughly an hour away and were excited to have me as a guest during Christmas. Richie was better than any guy I could’ve described before meeting him; my imagination could not have thought up anyone as sweet and sexy and charming as the nerdy blonde I’d happened to meet at a friend’s party.

Neither of us had ever met anyone from each other’s family yet but I knew the makeup of his. His mom and dad, Dean and Samantha, his older sister Lauren, and his little brother, Grant. His sister and I were already following each other on Instagram so we’d connected a bit, meaning I was disappointed to hear she’d be spending Christmas with her own boyfriend. That meant, when I arrived at Richie’s house that Friday, I was meeting three strangers that I was very much hoping to make a good impression on.

“There he is!” Samantha opened the door and hugged Richie like she hadn’t seen him in months and his dad soon followed, using his non-beer-holding hand to wrap his arm around his son. “You must be Zack. It’s so nice to meet you!” she greeted and hugged me with the same sincere warmth. It made me feel better. After I was let go, I came to face to face with Dean, a man who wasn’t quite as inviting. “Zack, good to meet ya, son. I’ve heard a lot about you, well not a whole lot but, enough” “Right haha, good to meet you, sir” I answered with nervous laughter as I shook his hand and realized how weak my shake was in comparison. His mom was petite, shaped like a curvy cartoon mom while Dean stood tall with broad shoulders and a default heft to him, not overweight but just naturally solid.

“I’m sure you’ve heard Lauren’s not coming. She and Brad are basically attached at the hip from what it sounds like” Samantha added. “Yeah, they seem very much disgustingly in love” Richie laughed. “They might say the same thing about you two” Dean added with a grin I couldn’t read, earning a look my way from Richie like he agreed that we were, disgustingly in love. “Hey, mom, I’m meeting Jordan at the movies in an hour” a voice announced as it came down the hall. “Ditching me for the movies, huh?” Richie greeted as his little brother, Grant rounded the corner, getting a happy smile from the 24 year old. “Did you just get here?” “Yep, about five minutes ago” Richie answered after their hug detached. “Grant, this is Zack” Samantha pointed out, seemingly making sure Grant wasn’t rude and ignored me. “Oh, yeah, hey, how’s it going?” Grant asked with an outstretched hand. “Good, nice to meet you” “Yeah, you too” Grant answered with about half as much interest as his parents had.

He was nearly as tall as Richie, about 40 pounds lighter, and with broad shoulders like Richie and his dad. While Dean had a head of salt and pepper, Grant’s was more of a dirty blonde, darker than Richie’s and shaggier, not messy but enough to remind me of my time trying to have the Bieber style years earlier. “What are you guys going to see?” Dean asked. “Bloodthirsty 2. It’s supposed to pretty sick” “I loved the first one. You’ll have to let me know how it is” I chimed in, surprising him a bit. “Oh yeah? You look a little too clean cut to like those movies” Grant halfway joked. “You’d be surprised” I answered. “Yeah, Zack’s a real sicko” Richie teased, landing in a way that I couldn’t judge with his parents but Grant laughed. “Alright, well, I’ll be back later” Grant added. “We open presents tomorrow at 9 a.m.; just remember that” Samantha answered. “I won’t be out late; I promise” he agreed before walking out the door, leaving the four of us to spend some quality time together.

By dinner I was much more relaxed. I sat by his mom and across from Richie while his dad sat next to him. Samantha wasn’t hard to win over but I’d made it a point to find common ground with Dean. He seemed to float somewhere between white and blue collar, sporting a sweater that could’ve been 20 bucks or 200 and a nice watch that was either his dad’s or had been a special anniversary gift. I knew he was an engineer of some sort but I worked in graphic design, not much overlap there, so I went for the one thing I figured I could talk about that would earn me some points. “Dean, I hear you’re a big westerns fan” I spoke up at one point. “You heard right. You too?” “I used to watch them all the time with my grandpa growing up. He loved them” “Sounds like good people to me” “He is. His favorite was um…Fire Shooter” “Fire Slinger?” “Yeah! That’s it. The one with Henry Weston” “That’s one of Dean’s favorites too” Samantha chimed in. The mild wrinkles on Dean’s handsome face and mustached-smile moved in a way that made me feel like I’d succeeded, getting a look from Richie like he agreed.

As the conversation drifted from westerns to Richie’s work to what was going on with their neighbors, I felt something nudge my knee. At first I nearly jumped but soon realized, as it began caressing my calf, that it was Richie’s foot. I shot him a silent look of ‘what are you doing?!’ but he didn’t pay attention, somehow seamlessly participating in his parent’s conversation while his socked foot teased my leg. I gripped my fork like there was still food on my plate and my face grew warmer as the long toes I loved so much rubbed down by thigh a bit, intentionally driving me crazy as I sat there trying to control myself.

I worried my face would show what I was feeling, forcing me to put on a stoic smile as I listened to the story of Eva next door chasing her dog down the block. I knew what socks Richie were wearing that day, navy blue with red stripes, the same half of a pair now grazing my khakis and making me hope to God that nobody noticed I was somehow 10 degrees hotter than everyone else. If we were back home, I would’ve grabbed his foot and tickled him until he was about to fall out of his chair or given him a massage but I was frozen by the unwritten social politeness of being at someone else’s dinner table. He was fucking with me and I was struggling every second that passed to not react, to act like there wasn’t a size 12 foot that I’d licked clean countless times currently playing footsie with me under the table while pecan pie sat inches in front of me.

“Zack, you ok, son? Looking a little funny there” Dean questioned, commanding my attention with his intrigue. “Oh, I’m fine, yeah, just listening” I tried to assure with a put-on smile. “We’re probably boring him to death. We don’t get out much like you two so our stories aren’t quite as exciting as I’m sure yours are” Samantha added with a friendly hand on my shoulder just as Richie began sneaking up the bottom of my pants leg. “No, no way, not boring at all. I’m just taking it all in” “He’s even polite enough to lie about how boring your stories are, Sam” Dean teased with the biggest smile I’d seen from him yet, showing his pearly teeth a bit. “Do you want some more pie, Zack?” Samantha asked. “No thank yooUaha” I answered with a surprised outburst toward the end, getting a confused look from the table, minus Richie. His other foot suddenly appearing near my crotch was too much to not react to. “Are you ok?” Samantha asked with newfound concern. “Zack’s just a big fan of pecan pie. You should’ve seem him at our friendsgiving” Richie added before retracting both of his feet. I knew I was blushing at this point. “We’ll have to get some more then” Dean added like he wasn’t too sure what’d just happened but I wasn’t going to add anything else, ready at that point to hide in the bathroom for an hour.

A few hours later, Richie and I were lying in his bed, a sharing that his parents weren’t wild about but Richie had convinced them was no big deal. They were more traditional like that. “You are such an asshole. I could’ve cocked a full boner right there at dinner!” I explained. “I’m surprised you didn’t…I was waiting for you to start sweating” Richie laughed, enough for this belly to shake so his happy trail became a winding road. “We better be quiet. Your parents might think we’re having gay sex in here” “They probably already think that. But my mom already bought a stocking to put up for you so I think you’re good” “Did she?” I asked. “Yep. She put it up before we came in here. Maybe she waiting to see if she’d like you before adding it with the rest of them” Richie suggested. “You might be right. I’m glad your little game of footsie didn’t derail my chances” “A man of such restraint” Richie teased as one of his now bare feet started rubbing the top of my foot. “You are really trying to get us in trouble” I laughed. “Maybe so” he answered before kissing me and tempting me to make him make the kinds of sounds that really would give his parents something to talk about.

At one point later that night, I woke up with a desperate need to pee. I looked over at my phone to see it was around midnight and I knew the whole house would be asleep so I’d need to be quiet. I got up without waking Richie and started down the hallway toward the bathroom, the whole house mostly dark by now but a light got my attention from the basement door. I knew Grant had made the lower level his own so I didn’t think much of it and relieved myself but on the way out, I couldn’t help but hear talking coming from that same light source. I dismissed it a first, figuring it was indeed just Grant. I knew he still lived there full time so it was much more his house than mine but the nature of what I started to hear stirred up enough curiosity to prevent my feet from going any further toward Richie’s bedroom.

I crept closer to the basement door, moving as carefully as I could as the voice grew louder and louder. My heart beat harder and adrenaline coursed through me like my Hallmark movie of a Christmas with my boyfriend’s family was taking a Lifetime twist, but I couldn’t stop myself, not until I could make sure I was hearing what I thought I was.

“…yeah, you fucking love these soles, don’t you? That’s why your wallets are so pathetic and mine is so fat…you just can’t resist” Grant taunted, to who I didn’t know, but my stomach flipped with surreal realization. “Look at that, 78 people all here to watch Alpha Grant flex his perfect feet and toes…I bet you guys are fucking drooling right now, probably bricked up jerking it to my big, soft feet...” Grant continued with supreme arrogance from the basement on what sounded like a livestream of some sort. I’d never been physically stunned like that in my life. Part of me wanted to go back to Richie’s room, to avoid the risk of being seen, but another part of me couldn’t pull away, too enamored by the 24 year old foot master I was sharing a house with.

Being a gay guy online with a foot fetish in modern times, I knew exactly what Grant was up to. The trend of young men taking to social media to make money from their feet and label themselves as ‘masters’ or ‘alphas’ was quite popular. I’d ran across dozens of accounts of guys that would’ve likely called you a slur if you said you liked their feet in person but had realized how lucrative it could be to flash their feet online, give a middle finger, and demand money from people. I couldn’t deny how hot some of the feet were that’d come from that trend but I’d never given money to any of them, not wanting to encourage the idea that everyone with a thing for feet liked being degraded or ordered around like that. But, from what I’d seen of Grant, he fit the type, the top tier of the type honestly. He was handsome in a boyish way with no sign of having to shave but with a strong jaw and a charming smile. I knew he’d played baseball and swam in high school so his body must’ve been on the athletic side, meaning the only factor left to assure his success in the online foot master world were his feet. Those, I could not speak on, never having laid eyes on them.

“102 piggies all filling up my bank account…you guys are the best…and you know the best people only deserve the best feet…they even look extra smooth tonight, don’t they? Fuck!” Grant gloated and laughed as he catered to his viral audience and I felt my pajama pants tightening like a spell was being casted from down the basement stairs. I couldn’t be caught like this, not by Grant, or his parents, or Richie. I’d hate to have to explain why I was fighting an erection in the kitchen, that concern forcing me to leave my listening spot but as I started to leave, my foot kicked a nutcracker on the floor and right through the opening of the basement door.

A paralyzing bolt of ‘oh shit’ ran through me as I watched the nut cracker tumble down the steps with loud thuds each time, every muscle in my body cringing more and more until I heard a laptop close. “Hey! Richie? Dad??” Grant called up. I had to say something. I had to respond. I couldn’t just run away could I? “H…hey, it was just me” “Who?” “Zack, just Zack…I was getting some water” I lied the best I could from the top of the stairs without any sight of Grant. “Oh…you wanna come get this nutcracker then?” “Oh, yeah…sure” I answered like I didn’t have any other words to choose from, too wound up by nerves to think straight as I agreed and made my way down into the basement, my heart now pounding even stronger.

“Sorry about that…I couldn’t see too great up there” I tried to explain as I grabbed the nutcracker. “Bloodthirsty was good” “What?” “The movie” Grant added as he sat on his small couch. “Right, the movie. Great, that’s great. I’ll have to check it out” I answered with anxious word vomit while trying not to look at Grant’s feet but it was no use. There they were, one hanging over the arm of the couch and the other resting on the carpet. The uncontrollable glance I did make was enough to confirm what I’d wondered. Grant’s feet were incredible. At that angle, I could see part of the top and bottom, displaying a cotton candy-pink sole with wide balls and a pale arch and creamy tops, almost the color of eggnog. I guess I wasn’t too good at hiding my reaction.

“Did you hear me from up there?” “No, no I didn’t hear anything” “Zack, I’m not stupid…I saw how hard you were when you came down here” Grant said rather bluntly, confidently, like a splash of cold water to my system. “I uhh…I wasn’t, I wasn’t uhh” “You’re a foot guy, huh? I know guys like you by now…I’ve seen plenty of them” Grant concluded as his toes casually flexed a bit off the arm of the couch, his checkered pajama pant leg draping down just past his ankle. “Listen, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop - really” I added, trying to take some kind of control over the situation. “I’m not making fun of you for it; everybody’s into something…shit, I make bank off guys like you. You guys are hella generous” Grant halfway laughed but I wasn’t sure how to react except one step at a time.

“So, you’re…one of those online foot master guys?” “Yep” “Right…well, if you ever need any graphic design help, I’m available” I awkwardly added, feeling instantly dumb for it. “Yeah, alright, man…you look like you need to relax though. You look tensed up. Come chill out for a second” Grant invited and I hesitantly followed, walking over as he shifted around but instead of taking just one cushion for himself, he sat in the middle. “Since you’re dating my brother, I’ll give you a free chance to sample the merchandise” Grant explained with a cocky smile as he kicked his feet up TV stand. “What do you mean?” “You like my feet, right?” “…uhh, sure” “You wanna taste ‘em?”  “Oh, I don’t know…Richie wouldn’t uhh” “I won’t tell Richie. It’ll just be between me and you. Get on your knees” he instructed and I felt myself get hot all over, unable to do anything but give into the offer being presented as I got to my knees and Grant brought his right foot up for me to hold.

I caught his ankle with one hand and looked back at him one more time, seeing the look of a man enjoying being admired before I surrendered to it and got to know my boyfriend’s little brother’s feet. Overwhelmed, I suddenly felt like I’d never done it before, faced with one of the hottest pairs of feet I’d ever seen in person as my mouth salivated like a dog presented with a bone. “Maybe we need to break the ice a little” Grant soon decided before planting his satin sole across my face, surprising me and indeed giving me a push. I exhaled with a light moan and breathed in the tang of his size 11, faintly ripe like he’d only been out of his shoes for 30 minutes or so. “Kiss my foot” he instructed, again surprising me. He’d done this before, not just online, but in person. I obeyed, happily, pursing my lips and planting a kiss on the middle of his sole. Then I kissed it again, and again with consistent affection down the rest of his foot, indulging in the supple flesh against my lips each time.

He sat back relaxed against the couch, grinning with an air of superiority at the unfolding events as I grew more comfortable expressing myself. The kisses quicky became soft slurps along the sides, the meaty edge leading up to his pinky toe, my mouth opening a little more every few seconds. “How’s that feel?” I found myself asking. “Feels pretty good, dude…nothing like an eager mouth on your feet” Grant answered, the response further enchanting me. Normally I wasn’t drawn to the cockiness of the online foot guys but Grant had a charm about him that made it seem less repellent, like he had some level of appreciation for the men that lusted over his feet, men like me.

My momentum grew more and more until I was at the arch, now letting my tongue lick and slide along the salty sole as my lips enjoyed the embrace. Light giggles escaped from the couch whenever I became more enthusiastic but Grant didn’t bother hiding it or correcting me, instead letting me have at his handsome foot as I wanted. The wrinkles of his dramatic arch were like the best part of a song, the part you’d rewind to listen to again and indulge in. I basically made out with the entire stretch from the top of his heel to the balls of his foot with mounting aggression, my inhibitions for the situation eclipsed by the surreal pleasure of it as Grant watched with a humored grin.

At one point, he shocked me again, suddenly lifting forward off the couch and grabbing a fistful of my hair, “Open your mouth” he commanded and I, spellbound by him and his delicious feet, did so before he stuffed his toes past my lips until I had a mouthful. “Mmphmm…” I let out, half moaning, half trying to talk. “Unless that’s ‘thank you, sir’, I don’t wanna hear it” he answered, suddenly embracing his dominant side, the side I’m sure he let shine often to his online subs. Normally I wouldn’t have been so obedient but worshiping Grant felt like taking some kind of drug, the kind where you don’t act like yourself and do things you might regret later.

His slender, smooth toes wiggled in my mouth and my tongue flicked up and down them like dancing gummy worms between my cheeks. I took hold of his ankle again to steady myself after a couple minutes and started snaking between the toes, again making Grant laugh a little and squirm a bit on the couch but he didn’t pull away, instead letting his other foot join the party and rub across my face and hair. I let out a moan I couldn’t control and felt myself getting stiff as a board under the weight of the plush soles dominating me.

My hair soon looked like I had extreme bedhead and drool was leaking from the sides of my mouth as I gorged on Grant’s luscious toes but the part of me that wasn’t happy being so submissive wanted at least a little control, motivating me to pull the toes from my mouth and hold both bare feet in front of my face. “If you can’t handle ‘em, just say so…I wouldn’t blame you” Grant added as if he understood how powerful his feet were. “I didn’t say that” was all I answered with before letting my tongue explore the sole I’d yet to taste, running flat up the entire length until Grant’s toes curled against my forehead. I repeated the same lick up the other foot and watched him remember I wasn’t one of his anonymous supporters online passively admiring his feet.

“How do they taste?” “Fantastic” “Damn right they do” Grant laughed as I continued slurping and licking up and down both addictive soles in front of my face, like I was catching every drop from two ice cubes as they melted. I soon started using my teeth a little, just barely incorporating them as I sucked on his heels and got Grant moving in his seat again, this time with less controlled laughter. “HheY! Chill out! CcOomMEEOOn!” he protested but I didn’t slow down, instead jumping to the toes of the other foot and nibbling on them with sloppy, exaggerated licks of pure passion until my drool was dripping down his foot and he was floundering the couch cushions out of place. “oOK! OOoHOKK! FuUhCK!” he finally shouted through his bubbly laughter, and yanked his feet away from me. “Jesus, that fucking tickled, man…the hell was that?” he asked like he was equally surprised, annoyed, and embarrassed.

“I didn’t realize you were so ticklish” “Yeah, man, I mean who isn’t?” he brushed off like he didn’t want to talk about it, his youthful, macho sensibilities rearing their head again to protect his ego. I started to open my mouth to say something else when a creak on the steps stopped me, pulling my attention toward the stairs and cueing a fresh flow of adrenaline. I expected to see Richie confused as to why I was down there with Grant or Samantha about to tell us how late it was and that we should get to bed but perhaps the worst possibility proved itself when I laid eyes on the brown slippers connected to a pair of strong, hairy legs and realized it was Dean coming into the basement.

“Boys…isn’t it a little late?” Dean questioned with a unique dad authority in his black t-shirt and plaid boxers. I waited for Grant to say something but he didn’t so I spoke up, “We were just uhh…talking about the movie, Bloodthirsty” I assured as convincingly as I could as I started to stand up, realizing how it must seem with me on my knees. “That’s not what it sounded like” Dean answered, running his hand through his middle-parted hair as he made his way closer. I looked at Grant like he should be the one explaining considering it was his dad but he didn’t look worried or concerned, instead relaxing back into the leather couch before Dean sat beside him.

“I’m gonna go back to bed now. Sorry if we woke you” I added with my tail between my legs as I started to walk off. “You can sit back down” Dean added, earning a puzzled look from me. “Back on your knees” Dean instructed and I really thought I was hearing things, taken back by what he was saying. “Sir, I don’t understand wh-“ “On the floor” was all he said, interrupting me with commanding confidence, convincing me to oblige. I knelt down unsure of what was about to happen as I faced them and was thrown for a curveball I never saw coming as Dean kicked off his right slipper and lifted his bare foot in front of me. “Show me how good of a guest you can be” he instructed as I eyed the gorgeous, mature foot demanding my attention. His tops were slightly tanner than Grant’s or Richie’s and hairier with peachier soles, his toes slender and long like theirs though.

“Sir, I don’t understand” I tried to navigate. “Yeah you do. You’re gonna worship my feet until you can taste the beer I had at dinner” Dean answered with a calm directness, another shock to my system as Grant sat beside him grinning. “You heard him; get to it” Grant soon added. I’d never felt so conflicted in my life but Dean’s bare foot was nearly as hot as Grant’s, a bit narrower and about a size smaller but smooth and well-kept. When I didn’t make a move, Dean, like Grant, gave me a push and molded his foot across my face, making Grant laugh.

“I wanna feel some tongue action, son - start licking” he ordered and I followed, breathing in like I had with Grant, this time taking in the lingering cologne he’d been wearing and the warm suede of his slippers baked into his sole before sticking my tongue out and licking across the wrinkled sole dominating my airways. They were divine, like aged wine that’d only gotten better with time and I quickly found myself succumbing to Dean’s feet faster than I had Grant’s. “There ya go…good boy” Dean encouraged and my pajama pants struggled to contain the throbbing excitement being stirred up.

He quickly brought the second foot up, fresh and buttery out of the slipper, and I grabbed both ankles like I had with Grant and this time, went to town. I couldn’t help myself. My mouth wrapped around the left heel and I slurped the savory sweat baked in like I was dying of thirst, soaking his heel with greedy licks and loud sucks before moving up the size 10 and devouring the softest part of his 55 year old foot, the silky arch. I licked and slurped and drooled along the precious arch with no concern left for the consequences of my situation, the drippings from my worship like I was enjoying a juicy orange.

“I got dad on the foot master train a while back too…he caught me one night doing a video and I told him how much money I made from it and he wanted in. He’s Mr. Weston on there” Grant rather proudly explained, the screen name a reference to one of Dean’s favorite western stars we’d talked about earlier that day. “Paid for that boat parked in the back” Dean laughed as I listened to the wild explanation and moved onto the other foot, now hungry for the strawberry pink toes. I opened my mouth to swallow the biggest one but Dean pulled back, “Now, you’re gonna do both our feet at the same time. You got it?” Dean laid out with a serious look on his lean face. “…yeah” “Yes, sir” he corrected. “Yes, sir” I obeyed and was presented with a foot from each of them to serve, like something from a fetish video I might watch online.

I started to take hold of their ankles but Grant pressed on my shoulder instead with his foot, forcing me to lean against the TV stand before Mr. Weston and Alpha Grant made me their foot slave. I started on Grant, using my tongue to snake side to side up his beautiful sole before jumping to Dean’s slightly drier foot, saturating it with loud slurps in the same direction until I reached his toes. The rhythm went back and forth like that for a while, switching from father to son to son to father until both of their dreamy soles were shiny from my mouth but at a certain point they changed things up on me, each of them grabbing one of my wrists and pulling me toward them so my face was pressing against the bottoms of their damp feet with nowhere to go.

“Tell us whose feet are better” Grant demanded. “What??” “Tell us whose are better and we’ll let you breathe” Dean added, pointing out that my nose and mouth were indeed buried in their supreme soles. “Ok! Gr…Grant’s!” I answered, just to take the pressure off me after about 10 seconds, unsure what they would do if I didn’t choose. “I told you!” Grant bragged as if this had been an ongoing debate. “Don’t go getting a big head…I can still take back your Christmas gifts” Dean threatened, reminding me again that I’d just been worshiping a dad and his son on Christmas eve at my boyfriend’s house, somewhat snapping me out of the hypnotic foot spell I’d been under.

“Guys, I…I need to go back upstairs. Richie might wake up and wonder where I am” I spoke up. “Richie sleeps like a log; he won’t even know you’re gone” Grant answered. He was right. “Yeah, we’re gonna watch some ESPN for a while” Dean added. “We?” “Yeah, you’re gonna lay down right there on the floor and keep licking and sucking and whatever else you foot boys do with feet” Dean laid out, stunning me yet again that night. “Listen, we don’t have to d-“ “Come on, Zack, we might end up being your in-laws one day. You don’t wanna be on our bad side, do you?” Grant spoke up with a calculated point I didn’t expect. “…fine” I agreed like someone on a diet presented with chocolate cake. Of course I wanted their feet. They were both fucking amazing but giving into it felt wrong, the kind of wrong I could never tell Richie about.

As the TV clicked on and the re-run of some football game played, I laid down on my back with my head in front of the couch and Dean and Grant’s feet made me their stool. I was instructed I couldn’t use my hands and that I better not cum and I followed their rules, lapping away and giving their glorious feet the attention they deserved, Dean’s middle-aged beauties and Grant’s money-draining dogs.

The next morning, at 9 a.m., just like Samantha had said, we all gathered in the living room to celebrate Christmas. I received a coat I’d been eying from Richie and Richie loved the new camera I’d bought him, reaffirming that we were a good match for each other while we all continued taking turns opening gifts. To say I was distracted was an understatement. The caramel flavored morning coffee swirled in my mouth with the lingering taste of Dean and Grant’s feet. I had to force myself to look away from Grant’s now socked feet sitting crossed on the large rug and his dad’s as one foot played with its slipper enough to tease me with his heel, unintentionally or not, I couldn’t tell by that point.

“Did you not sleep much last night? You look kind of tired, no offense” Richie added while the rest of the family talked about Samantha’s new hat. “Just a bit restless last night” I lied. “Really? I didn’t feel you rolling around or anything but I guess I do sleep like a log most of the time” “Right, that you do” I half-way laughed, hearing that phrase in Grant’s voice. As all over the place as my thoughts were and as much as I wondered if somehow Richie would find out about me worshiping his brother and dad’s feet, I managed to keep a normal disposition, politely watching everyone open presents and participating in the conversations the best I could. Part of me wanted the father/son pairs of feet again and part of me wanted to get back home where I had better control over things but I knew at least that the temptation or possibility of that risky indulgence likely wouldn’t be there for a long time after today. That was until the last gift was opened.

Samantha opened an envelope and proceeded to burst with an excited cheer, thrilled by whatever she’d been gifted. “It’s a cruise!” “Wow!” Richie and I both replied but Grant and Dean weren’t as surprised. “Grant and I decided we could probably all use a little getaway so we’re setting sail next month” Dean explained with a proud attitude. “That’s great! You guys are gonna have a blast” Richie added. “The ticket is for six people actually. Me, your mom, Grant, Lauren, and you two” Dean explained, earning an even more surprised reaction from Richie while I tried to mirror it, my head quickly wrapping around what a cruise with all of them meant. “So, we’ll all get to be together again for two weeks this time next month” Dean added with a subtle glance in my direction before I pretended to be drawn to something else only to see Grant flexing his toes in his crisp, white socks. “Zack and I would love that! Right, babe?” Richie asked, forcing me back to the present moment. “Right, I’m sure it’ll be great…just great.”