Kiss My Feet

Nesty lets her bare foot dangle right in front of him, toes wiggling like they know exactly what they’re doing. He tries to look anywhere else—fails instantly. She drags her sole up his thigh, slow, deliberate, and grins when his breath stutters. A second later he’s on his knees on the deck tiles, fingers locked around her ankle, kissing the arch like he’s thanking it personally. She laughs, low and pleased, then plants both feet against his chest and shoves him back so he lands flat. Her heels slide down to the tent in his swim shorts, giving it a testing squeeze. One foot stays there, kneading; the other rises to his mouth and he sucks her big toe like he missed lunch. Her laughter mixes with the splashes from the pool and the slick sound of skin on skin. He humps against her sole, hips working in short desperate thrusts, face buried in the other foot. She strokes the line of his cock with her toes like it’s a toy she might finish or might not—she hasn’t decided yet.