Very Nimble Nesty

Nesty discovers her feet lately and, boy, does she know what she's got now. Those nimble toes cling, slip, press. Jon starts right where her man craves it—sucking each painted nail slow, then burying his face between her legs. The sheets stay white; her blond strands just catch in the cotton like lost threads. She returns the favor, clenching both soles around him. One second the motion is tender—tiny circles—next it’s a quick, hungry glide. His breath gets ragged, thighs jerk. Ecstasy hits like a tripped circuit, and Nesty just laughs under her breath, toes still working. Marvelous what a pair of playful feet can do when they’re game.