Adorabe toes

Melisa plants that perfect foot right in your lap, toes flexing like they own the place. He drops to his knees so fast you’d think the floor owed him rent. A low sound slips out when his mouth brushes the arch—warm, messy, greedy—and she just laughs, curling her toes against his tongue. "Like that, huh?" She rocks the ball of her foot over his face, smearing spit, then slides her heel between his legs until his cock jerks hard against denim. She keeps the pressure light, then not. Every few breaths she draws back, wiggles those painted little piggies, and watches his eyes glaze. When the begging starts, she only smirks, presses the sole flat over his mouth, and holds it there like a dare he’d better take.