Little Yellow Socks

Something about those little yellow socks hits Charlie like a freight train. He pictures Veronica’s slim, pretty feet tucked inside them all day and he’s already hard. He stares at her like a dog watching steak. She catches the look, smirks, and slowly peels one sock down her calf. Charlie’s cock twitches under the denim. Veronica kicks the second sock toward him. It lands on his lap; he grabs it, sniffs, and his eyes roll back. She laughs, pulls her bare foot up onto the couch, spreads her toes, and he falls to his knees. He licks the arch, sucks each toe, tongue sliding between them until she’s wet enough to soak the cushion. Veronica yanks his fly open, frees his cock, and rubs her slick sole along his length. The footjob is quick and filthy—her toes gripping the head, sliding down the shaft, spreading precum everywhere. She shoves both feet in his face; he jerks off while breathing the heat of her skin, then paints her soles with thick ropes of cum. She wiggles her toes, watching the mess drip between them, and giggles like she’s just beaten him at cards.