Suck my toes and ask me later!

Puma and Mick were power dining at some overpriced spot where the waiter probably judged their wine choice. Everything was peachy—until she caught Mick eyeballing her feet like they owed him rent. Classic. She kicked off her stilettos, stretched a foot across, and started working his thigh with her sole. Mick didn’t need a second invite; he ducked under the tablecloth like a magician proving a point and went to town on her toes. Puma’s stockings were already damp by the second suck. Lunch plans went up in smoke. She crawled halfway under the table, hair everywhere, and swallowed his cock like she was trying to set a personal best. The risotto got cold.