Garden of pleasures

Cassy never guessed her gardener had a thing for feet. That changed the day she strolled across the patio and caught him staring—straight at her legs, her toes slipping out of those open sandals like they knew exactly what they were doing. She figured she'd give him a little show, maybe wiggle her foot, see if he squirmed. Cute idea. Until she pressed one bare foot against his thigh and he dropped to his knees like gravity had taken sides. After that, harmless went out the window. He licked between her toes like they were candy, sucked on the heel like it owed him rent, and she let him because the sight made her thighs tingle. She pointed, flexed, teased; he moaned and begged for more. By the end, she had both feet on his face while he came on the grass, proof that one small, silly game can turn into a full-blown foot obsession before either of them catches their breath.