Story: The Freshmen

by RubberBootMan Don


Alone in the reading room of the college library I was fighting to stay awake as I started reading my Philosophy text. It was a sunny fall afternoon and everyone else had headed home for supper. I must have dozed off for a second because I woke up with a start as the door opened. A rather good-looking guy entered the room and, as I always do, I checked out his feet first of all. I was instantly wide awake. He was wearing the most gorgeous pair of black rubber boots I had ever seen. They were shiny and smooth and very supple; I could see the rubber rippling around his feet as he walked. The soles and toe cap were a dark red color with a matching stripe at the top of the shaft which was fully knee high. They were in good shape, no holes or tears, but were obviously well worn. Nicely broken in, I’d say. It thrilled me to think he’d worn them frequently enough to give them that look. They were large, at least a size 13. I’ve spent most of my life observing men’s footwear so I’m pretty much an expert. As he came closer my prick came to life and began to press against my jeans. I kept my eyes on his rubber boots, since that was my passion. Although the room was empty, he chose a table next to mine and sat down with his rubber boots in full view. As he sat, I glanced up and saw that he was indeed a very attractive fellow. Long brown hair in a ponytail, blue eyes, short beard and he was smiling at me as our eyes met.
“How’re ya doing?” he said.


“Fighting to stay awake, I’m afraid”, I answered, my heart pounding.
“I know what you mean, sometimes this stuff can get pretty dull”, he
replied.
He leaned back in his chair, black leather jacket creaking. He was
leaving both the jacket and the boots firmly in place. After seeing a hunk
in rubber boots, it is always my fear that he will sit down and slide them
off. Nothing sadder for me than an empty pair of rubber boots sitting
beside a pair of socked feet. Now there was no way I was going to get any
studying done, but I sure as heck wasn’t going to leave, either. Not with
this guy, who was straight out of my fantasies, sitting this close. Was
it my imagination or was he looking under my table at my rubber boots?
Actually mine were quite similar to his, although they were new, and at
least a size smaller. I bought them last week so I would start college
in shiny new rubber boots. I wiggled my toes against the rubber, feeling
the heavy wool socks that I wore to both heat up my feet and soak up the
sweat. I noticed that the guy was also moving his feet inside his rubber
boots; he had been looking at mine. As I watched the rubber that encased
his feet moving, I felt like I was going to spurt right on the spot. When
I glanced at his face, he was grinning and I returned his smile. We
continued on like this for a half hour or so when he closed his book with
a slap.
“I just can’t get into this right now”, he said. “I think I’ll go over to
the cafeteria and get a coffee or something. How about you? You wanna
join me?”
“Sounds like a plan to me”, I answered thinking I must be dreaming.
“My name’s Craig”, he stated, holding out his hand.
“Jeff”, I replied clasping his hand in mind and giving it a firm shake.
We held each other’s hand just a little longer than convention would
dictate.
“Well, Jeff, pleased to meet you. Let’s go.”
“I’m with you, Craig”, I answered back, and the two of us strode out of
the room and out of the library into the bright sunshine, in all
likelihood the only two men on campus who were wearing rubber boots.
Up until then, I had assumed I was the one and only man on campus who
would have rubber boots on this time of year, but that was nothing new for
me. I often found myself alone in this peculiar habit.
Craig was a great looking guy. A couple of inches taller than my 5’11”
and really well put together. He looked somewhat older than my 18 years.
I kept glancing at his profile as we walked; he really was a fine looking
man. And of course, I kept glancing down to see those big rubber boots
striding along the sidewalk. Time for small talk.
“So, Craig, what year are you in?”
“Oh, I’m a freshman”.
“Really”, I answered, surprised, “me too.”
“Yeah, I know, I look older – I am. I worked with my Dad for 3 years
after highschool. And since I flunked a few grades that makes me 24.”
Wow, 24 seemed so old, so mature, so experienced.
“What’s your major, Jeff?”, he asked.
“At this point I really don’t know. I’m just starting out with a general
mix of courses and I’ll have to decide next year. How about you?”
“Oh, I’m heading for engineering, so I’m taking sciences and math.
Pretty heavy load, but its what I want to do.”
Then came the awkward pause when the usual pleasantries have been
exchanged and you wonder what will come next. Craig broke the silence,
“I see we have the same taste in footwear”, he said softly.
Man, he was jumping right in with both boots.
“Yeah, I noticed”, I replied. “I was surprised to see another guy
wearing rubber boots on a bright dry sunny day like this.”
“Oh, I always wear rubber boots, no matter what the weather”, he replied
with a sheepish sort of grin that just melted my heart.
“Really?” I asked, “me too.” His statement gave me the courage to go a
step further. “So you really like rubber boots, then?” My prick
hardened as I waited for his reply.
We entered the student union building and maneuvered through the crowded
lobby toward the cafeteria. Once we were in the food line he grinned and
said,
“Man, do I like rubber boots? I absolutely love them! I can’t bring
myself to wear anything else.” I couldn’t help glancing in the direction
of his crotch and was delighted that he was in the same condition I was.
“Damn”, I answered, “that’s the way I am too. I guess we do share our
taste in footwear.”
“Man, that’s so great”, Craig answered. “I’ve been hoping I’d meet
someone else who loved his rubber boots like I do. When I saw you in the
reading room with those great big shiny rubber boots on your feet I just
had to go in and find out. I mean, who would wear rubber boots on a
bright dry sunny day like today?”, he grinned as he repeated my words.
“And then when you started wiggling your feet in your boots and all, I got
so excited I didn’t know what to do.”
We filled our trays with coffee and Danish and found a seat in the corner.
As we sat side by side I could feel Craig slide his foot over until his
rubber boot touched mine. I slid mine in closer and they pressed
together. I thrilled to actually have my rubber booted foot in contact
with another rubber booted foot that wasn’t mine. I had dreamed about this
in the privacy of my room many times, but never figured it would happen.
Our legs pressed against each other too and the feel of another guy’s big
muscular leg touching mine almost made me crazy with lust. Craig again
took the lead. He seemed more comfortable with this than I was. Well, he
was older.
“So do you want hear my story?”
“Sure, Craig, that’d be cool”, I replied. By this time we had finished
eating and pushed our chairs back from the table, close enough that our
shoulders touched and we placed a third chair in front of us on which we
placed our rubber booted feet. They, too were side by side where we could
see them clearly. Every time one of us moved a foot, the rubber boots
rubbed against each other and squeaked. We got a few strange looks I can
tell you as other students went by. Craig began.
“I’ve always worn rubber boots. I grew up in them. But then, most of my
friends did too. We grew up in the country and all through elementary
school we pretty much wore nothing but rubber boots. It just seemed
natural. But even then I knew that I loved them in a way that the other
guys didn’t. I hated to take mine off and tried real hard not to. The
other guys were much more casual about it. But we all went to school in
our rubber boots and played in our rubber boots all year round. Then, when
we moved on to junior high, about half the guys stopped wearing their
rubber boots and each year after that a few more stopped. I kept waiting,
figuring that one day I’d want to take mine off too. But it never
happened. I just loved them more and more. Sometimes one of the other
guys would ask me why I was still wearing those big old rubber boots and
I’d just shrug it off and tell them that someday I figured I’d feel like
taking them off but for now I was quite content to wear them. But I
really wondered. I think they did too.
It was just me and Dad at home and he was a boot wearer too. Mostly he
wore leather boots – cowboy boots, engineers boots, doc martens, rangers,
he had about six pairs. But he never took them off. Wore them all the
time at home so it was ok for me to just go home and leave my rubber boots
on. I never asked if I could and he never said I couldn’t. It was just
normal to wear boots at our house. One day when I was about 10 or 11 and
we were sitting on the coach watching tv with our feet propped up on the
coffee table he leaned over and gave my rubber boots a slap and said,’hey,
you really love those rubber boots, don’t you?’ Embarrassed I said yeah,
I do, is that ok? Sure its ok, he said, in fact its great. You can wear
them all the time as far as I’m concerned. Really? I asked. For sure,
buddy he said, and he pulled my rubber booted feet over on his lap and
kept his hands on them for the rest of the evening. When it was time for
bed he told me that it was fine by him if I wanted to wear my rubber boots
to bed. I do anyway Dad, I said, but thanks for letting me. Yeah, I know
you do, son, he told me. I check on you every night and I see your
rubber boots. I just want you to know it really is cool with me. One
other time a couple of years later he asked me if I’d like to have a pair
of leather boots like his. When I hesitated he said, hey no pressure, I’m
just wondering. It’d be easier to wear them to school, I’m thinking.
Dad, thanks, I said, but I really just want to wear rubber boots. I don’t
think leather boots would be a whole lot more accepted at school. Most of
the guys wear sneakers or shoes. Cool, he said. I told you before, its
fine by me if you want to wear rubber boots all the time. Wear em to
school Craig and be who you are. Wear em at home, wear em to bed. I’ll
support you. Maybe I’ve been neglecting my rubber boots. I think maybe I
should wear mine sometimes, too. Great Dad, I said, that would be really
neat. And thanks for understanding and supporting me. Hey, I’m a boot guy
too, remember, he said and rubbed his army boots. A few days later it
rained and Dad did put on a pair of really tight-fitting green rubber
boots that had 3 eyelets at the top with white laces. He’d had them in
his closet but hadn’t worn them for years. They really gripped his ankles
tight and he said these weren’t boots that you wore for an hour or so.
These were boots you left on for quite awhile cause it was hard to get
them off. He said that when he eventually wanted to take them off, I’d
have to help him pull. They were fantastic looking boots and I couldn’t
keep my hands off them. When we’d sit together I’d always be playing with
them, rubbing my hands over the smooth hot rubber. He’d wiggle his feet
in them so I could feel that soft supple rubber ripple. He’d leave them on
for days at a time and it would take 10 to 15 minutes before he could
wriggle out of them. He’d always get me to hold onto them while he worked
his feet out. Man would they be soaked. And stink – phew, but it was neat
getting so close to Dad’s boots; I never minded the smell” Craig was
grinning as he remembered his Dad’s boots. “Eventually they wore out and
he couldn’t get another pair like them. But he got himself some other
rubber boots, like these ones, and he still wears them. I’m sure
its because of me. Anyway, as junior high went into high school – with a
few extra years for flunking, I was really getting lambasted about my
rubber boots until finally in my last year, I decided to take them off and
wear sneakers. I just wanted to be like the others, you know, but I was
miserable and as soon as I got home from school, I’d put my rubber boots
on and leave them on until the next morning. I only felt normal when I
had them on.”
“I knew that after high school, whatever I did or wherever I went, I’d
have to do it in rubber boots, so when Dad was in financial trouble with
his business – small engine repair shop – he asked me if I’d help him out
til he got back on his feet. He said he’d pay my tuition if I could delay
college for a while. I agreed if I could work in the shop and wear my
rubber boots. He said sure, he’s got a salesman to dress up fancy. Dad
said he wore his boots all the time and said I could too. So for three
years I fixed lawnmowers, fans, chain saws, and God knows what else. But
with working long days Dad got out of the hole and to compensate me, my
tuition is paid. Best of all, though, we had a great time working
together. Really got to know each other as friends, not just father and
son. Oh, and he pretty much wore rubber boots the whole time, and still
does. I’m living at home – commuting about 40 minutes each way. Its a
bit of a drag, but I’d really miss Dad if I moved away. For now, I’m happy
being home.”
“Wow, Craig, neat story. No time for a love life, though?”, I asked,
trying to find out where his affections lay.
“Oh no, man. It was pretty much work, work, work. But I never did try
either. I didn’t figure too many ladies are going be drooling over a hick
in big rubber boots.” He said this with a chuckle, not with regret.
“Until today, I didn’t think anybody would be interested.” He looked me
directly in the eyes as he said that and rubbed his boots against mine.
“Now, how did you come to wear rubber boots, Jeff?”
“Well, I didn’t grow up in the country so it didn’t come so natural for
me. It wasn’t my Dad who was the bootman, it was my uncle. When I was 8,
my uncle Jim took me with him and my cousin Ted who was the same age, for
a week long fishing trip. My Mom dropped me off at Jim’s place and as
they were getting all the gear together they asked me if I had rubber
boots. I didn’t. Well, said Uncle Jim a guy can’t go fishing without
rubber boots, can he Ted? Ted agreed it was impossible so we made a trip
to the local sporting goods store and I became the proud owner of a pair
of rubber boots. They were green and they laced up tight. Ted had a pair
the same. I guess he got a pair every year. They were expensive boots
and looked really sharp. Jim pulled out his boots – a pair of hip high
waders. They were black and shiny with bright yellow trim. Jim was a
fireman and I guess he got them from work. Anyway, Jim and Ted said that
because this was a guy’s trip, we didn’t have to worry about niceties, so
we’d wear our rubber boots right from the start. So Ted and I got laced
into ours and Jim pulled on his big waders and fastened them to his belt.
I remember how comfortable I thought those rubber boots were, laced so
tall and so tight around my legs. They were shiny too, and I really loved
the look of them. I guess I felt real manly or something. I loved the
way Uncle Jim looked too, in those big shiny rubber hip boots. I sat in
the truck next to him and I kept brushing them with my hand, really liking
the feel of the warm rubber. I quickly found out that the boots got real
hot, though and I wasn’t too pleased. After we arrived at the cabin, I
asked Ted when we took our boots off and he just looked at me and shook
his head. Next week, when we go home. We’re fishing guys, Jeff, we wear
rubber boots. He thought I was an idiot for even asking. His Dad had
brought him up in rubber boots, I guess. I was really distressed at this
but what could I do. I wasn’t going to be a wimp. Whenever we were
outside I made sure I was wading in the water so my feet would cool down.
Jim knew I was having a hard time and he said, yeah, those rubber boots do
get hot don’t they. But he never told me I could take them off. We slept
in them – or at least I tried to – ate in them, played in them, fished in
them. I hated them. But then by about the third day I was walking along
the edge of the lake just outside the cabin, thinking I couldn’t stand
them for another minute when I saw a reflection of myself in the water.
It struck me through and through how wonderful I looked in my rubber
boots. It was like looking at somebody else and I realized that the
rubber boots made me into somebody else – a fishing guy, a manly guy, and
I liked it. From then on, I was willing to accept the heat and the sweat
and I stopped trying to keep my feet in the water. Jim could tell the
difference, cause he asked if I was getting used to my boots. When I said,
yes, there were pretty neat, he was pleased and said, great, now you’re
really gonna be a fishing guy like Ted and me. And I really wanted to be.
When we got home, I was staying that night at Jim’s house til my mother
picked me up. Neither Ted nor Jim was in any hurry to take their rubber
boots off, even though they’d worn them all week, so I kept mine on too
and as I shared Ted’s bed that night, the two of us continued to be rubber
booted. (Nothing happened – we were only 8). I could hear lots of noise
from Jim and May’s room that night and I now know they were getting it on
and I’m sure Jim still had his waders on. I met him later heading to the
bathroom and he was naked except for his big black rubber hip boots. His
dick was standing out straight and he just grinned and said he’d wait til
I went. He was still standing there when I came out, completely
unperturbed by being seen that way. I took my boots off in the morning and
had a shower so I could be ready when my Mom came and it felt really
strange to have sneakers on again. But ever since then I wanted to wear
rubber boots. Jim let me take them home and I started wearing them to
school on rainy days. Mom didn’t seem to mind and the some of the other
kids liked them. The teacher told me I should take them off in class, but
there was no rule about wearing boots so I wouldn’t. I think my Dad had a
talk with her and more or less said that if I wanted to wear rubber boots,
it shouldn’t be a problem. Anyway, I gradually wore them more and more
often and couldn’t wait for the fishing trip each year. A couple of times
Dad came along and Jim loaned him fireman’s waders that he wore all week,
too. Hes not a boot guy, but he went along with it while he was there. A
few times when I’d go over to visit at Jim’s place, Ted and I would put
our rubber boots on and go over to the fire station. Jim would always be
in his fireman’s waders, no matter what he was doing. Often times he was
the only one – the other firemen had theirs waiting at the bottom of the
pole, but Jim would be cooking or polishing brass or whatever with his big
black waders pulled up high. When I got a part time job in high school, I
started buying more rubber boots so now I’ve got about 5 pairs, including
hip waders and chest waders. I still only wore them to school when it
stormed, but I decided that when I started college I would wear them all
the time. So I bought a new pair to start out the year. And here I am.
I don’t have any other footwear with me; I’m gonna wear these all day
everyday.”
“Wow, that’s great”, Craig said. By this time our rubber booted feet were
entwined on that chair, one on top of the other. “So where do the ladies
fit into your life, Jeff?”, he asked.
“They don’t”, I said. “I figure if anybody’s gonna be attracted to a
rubber boot guy, its gonna be another rubber boot guy.” I just stared at
our rubber boots as I waited for a response.
“Cool”, Craig said. “I do believe you’re right. And I’m another rubber
boot guy and I’m definitely attracted”.
“I am too, Craig. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you
walking into that library with your big rubber boots on. Why don’t you
come to my place and we can talk some more. I’ve got a bachelor apartment
and I live by myself.”
“I’m there, man. There’s just one condition”, he said with that grin of
his.
“What’s that, man?”.
“Don’t ask me to take my boots off when we get to your door”.
“Craig, if you even try to take em off, I’ll slug ya!”, I said laughing.
“Cool”, he said placing his big hand on my shoulder. I’ll just call Dad
and tell him I’m busy tonight. I know I’m all grown up but we like to
keep in touch.”
“Why don’t you tell him you won’t be home tonight, Craig”, I suggested.
“Cool”, he said again and as he strode off to the pay phone I could see
that his jeans were straining against his hard rod as his rubber boots
flapped against his legs.
This was going to be an excellent year. I stood up, adjusted my hard gear
and clomped out after him.

4 thoughts on “Story: The Freshmen

  1. Glad you guys are enjoying the story. I wrote this quite a few years ago. It was my fantasy that never came true. I spent my entire college career in rubber boots and although I saw lots of other rubber booted guys, they never seemed to be interested in their boots in the way I was. Anyway, it’s always fun to imagine the possibilities. And I’m still wearing my rubber boots on a regular basis – usually hip boots these days.

    Like

  2. This story is really amazing … and, by the way, it remembers me that I’ve got to clean y own rubber boost as I think I’ll need them in the city soon 😉

    Like

  3. Hi
    It was an amazing story, everything was perfect. It must be great to make a connection like that specially in a big place like a campus where you wouldn’t expect to fin someone who likes the same boots.
    Good luck with your new friendship!

    By the way, do you have a mail where I could write you something bigger. I like you blog and there are many good ideas and good comments I would like to do.

    Thanks

    Like

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