Fair trade

She picks pink, yellow, and blue like she’s still picking what to wear to homeroom. Still, nothing about the outfit screams innocence now that she’s dangling both feet in front of a guy’s face, grinning like she already knows he’s done for. Those narrow soles curl around his cock, toes scrunching and tugging, almost like she’s trying to milk him dry before the actual fuck even starts. In return she wants the works—every thrust, every slap, every grunt he can throw at her—and the faster he gives it the louder she laughs. Clock it, this girl’s trading a filthy footjob for a straight-up body-bruising screw, and she couldn’t look more pleased with herself.