The Art Foot Massages

Naughty Tina goes for the kill. She drags her bare feet up Johnny's jeans slow, deliberate, and grins when she feels him swell against the denim. The kid gets stiff quick. She presses down, rolls the ball of her foot over the ridge she helped create. Every pulse travels right up her toes. Tina likes the feel of that hot, twitching cock straining for air, so she keeps working it, smearing friction and heat until his breath turns ragged. She slides his zipper down, hooks a toe into his briefs, and tugs. The springy length flops free. She closes her soles around it like a warm, pliant sleeve, slides up and down, skin on skin. Slick drips out and she spreads it everywhere. When she lifts her heels, his glans flashes dark purple between her arches. Tina chuckles, low and breathy, then leans in and seals her lips around the swollen head, tasting the sticky mess she's made. Mounting is easy. She just sits down, settles her weight, and lets his cock spear straight up into her. The first stretch makes her gasp, sharp and sweet. She works herself in tight circles, swallowing him right to the root on every drop. He bangs against the best spots inside her; she grinds hard, grunting every time her clit drags on his pelvic bone. Slick with her own juices, she pops off, spins around, and wraps those soaked feet around his shaft again. Quick pumps, flex and release, toes curled tight. Johnny groans louder, hips jerking. Tina aims him low, watches the first rope lash hot across her soles, follow-up shots landing in sticky streaks between her toes, painting them creamy and white. She wiggles her cum-slicked toes at him and winks.