Foot lust

Home finally. My feet feel like they belong to a corpse, and I kick off my shoes, sink into a chair, drop them straight into hot water until every ache melts away. I call my man over. Time for the good stuff. I make him kiss the arches, tongue the ball of each foot, and then pin his stiff cock between my toes so I can rub and tap until he moans. After a full day of walking, nothing smells riper, and he savors every whiff. I lean back, shut my eyes, and replay Crystal Crown’s famous show. Those deep creases on her soles give me goosebumps even in memory. I picture her hovering above me, slow-dragging that silky sole over my shaft, squeezing gently with every wiggle. Pure magic. Best evening on repeat.