Foot Fucker

Andreina de Luxe has Charlie Dean right where she wants him. She props her foot on his thigh, toes painted a wicked red, and rubs them up the length of him. Just a lazy glide at first, but the skin is already stretching tight. Charlie sucks a breath through his teeth and she grins, that little tilt of her head she always does when she knows she’s won. Up and down she strokes, slow enough to drive him crazy, yet each pass gets him harder until he’s standing straight up like some over-enthusiastic salute. Andreina drags the ball of her foot over the head, pressing, twisting—just enough pressure to make his hips jerk—and the whole rigid length jumps like it has a mind of its own. She switches to the other foot, cool skin meeting hot flesh, and wraps her toes as far as they’ll reach. One quick clench and Charlie growls, so she does it again. A slick shine coats her toes now; she works it over him in lazy, slippery circles. He reaches for her ankle but she just tuts, nudging his hand away with the same foot. Not yet. She still has some playing left to do, and her boy’s perfectly happy to let her keep going—tense, throbbing, and completely at her mercy.