Erika Lust
Do You Find my Feet Suckable?
Dude Looks Like A Lady
She stood alone in the empty classroom, and there I was—earlier than usual, dumbstruck. I’d mooned over her for two weeks without saying a word; she was gorgeous, I was a nervous wreck. Half-ready to bolt, I forced my legs forward instead. Bare feet, that was the first shock—heels up on the desk, flip-flops kicked aside. My secret weakness, right in front of me. I dropped into the seat beside her, croaked hello, and she smiled like she’d been waiting. Asked if I liked her polish. Then, cool as anything, if I wanted to massage them. My hands shook. A heartbeat later she had me figured out: “Do you like sucking feet?” she murmured. “Are mine suckable?” They were. I answered with my mouth on every toe, heart hammering. That’s when I noticed—no panties under the skirt. Pink and smooth, her pussy right there. She caught my stare and asked the obvious. A few minutes until class, students trickling in, and I was already hard just from the danger. I suggested the bathroom. She wrinkled her nose. “Library after,” she said. Longest lecture in history. When the bell finally rang we found the back corner nobody uses. She hiked her skirt and ordered my tongue first. I lapped at her until the taste of her had me dizzy, then drifted back down to her feet like I couldn’t help it. She peeled off her blouse, shoved her tits at my mouth, then pushed me lower again. We fucked between the stacks, trying to swallow every moan, praying no one wandered close enough to hear. After she came she fixed her clothes, gave a little wave, and strolled out. I stayed on the floor, pants undone, wondering what the hell had just happened and whether the smell of her feet would stay on my tongue all afternoon.
She stood alone in the empty classroom, and there I was—earlier than usual, dumbstruck. I’d mooned over her for two weeks without saying a word; she was gorgeous, I was a nervous wreck. Half-ready to bolt, I forced my legs forward instead. Bare feet, that was the first shock—heels up on the desk, flip-flops kicked aside. My secret weakness, right in front of me. I dropped into the seat beside her, croaked hello, and she smiled like she’d been waiting. Asked if I liked her polish. Then, cool as anything, if I wanted to massage them. My hands shook. A heartbeat later she had me figured out: “Do you like sucking feet?” she murmured. “Are mine suckable?” They were. I answered with my mouth on every toe, heart hammering. That’s when I noticed—no panties under the skirt. Pink and smooth, her pussy right there. She caught my stare and asked the obvious. A few minutes until class, students trickling in, and I was already hard just from the danger. I suggested the bathroom. She wrinkled her nose. “Library after,” she said. Longest lecture in history. When the bell finally rang we found the back corner nobody uses. She hiked her skirt and ordered my tongue first. I lapped at her until the taste of her had me dizzy, then drifted back down to her feet like I couldn’t help it. She peeled off her blouse, shoved her tits at my mouth, then pushed me lower again. We fucked between the stacks, trying to swallow every moan, praying no one wandered close enough to hear. After she came she fixed her clothes, gave a little wave, and strolled out. I stayed on the floor, pants undone, wondering what the hell had just happened and whether the smell of her feet would stay on my tongue all afternoon.