Will was my neighbor across the street—someone I didn’t even know existed for three months until we started hanging out with the same crew. Since he lived right in front of me, we became close. I won’t lie—I always wanted him, even though he played straight (just super chill about it).
At one of our house parties, I got my first taste: his heavy black Oakley boots. Snuck a sniff when no one was looking. Shockingly, his foot stink wasn’t even that strong—just perfect.
 
I told João (my roommate at the time) about my obsession. He urged me to film with Will, but I chickened out. For years, Will stayed clueless about our "work," just thinking we were his weirdly affectionate buddies.
Then came the night. Post-club, drunk and fearless, I dragged him and João to my room. No cameras—just me finally devouring those feet I’d fantasized about for so long. Two days later, with João hyping him up, Will created a Twitter, and we filmed that iconic video—the one where I worshiped him in those same Oakleys that haunted my dreams.
 
Now? Will’s one of my closest friends. Supported me when I needed it most. And filming him? Living out every filthy fantasy I’d ever had? Priceless.