A bit of those toes

Danny stared at Marie's feet like they held the answer to every late-night thought he'd ever had. The itch to wrap his lips around those painted nails, suck till she squirmed, drag his tongue over every soft arch, and feel her toes grab his cock finally crawled up his throat and out his mouth. She grinned, lifted one foot, and wiggled those toes like she was teasing a dog with a biscuit. Game on. She sat on the edge of the bed, stripped off the other sneaker, and hooked him forward by his belt. A few quick tugs and his cock sprang free, already bouncing with eagerness. Marie didn't rush. One bare foot slid up the inside of his thigh, sole pressing hot against skin, until her toes brushed the swollen head. She circled, flexed, spread, coating herself in the shiny bead already leaking. Then she slid him between both arches and started stroking—smooth, confident, exactly the pressure he'd begged for without words. Every lazy pump dragged a different set of nerves awake. Her big toe curled over the crown and squeezed, and the smaller ones danced underneath, firm and playful. Pre-cum glistened like she polished chrome. Danny’s knees dipped. His hips jerked forward on their own. She worked him faster, skin gliding against skin with a slick, filthy sound. Her heels drummed the edge of the mattress in time with his heartbeat. Suddenly the urge built sharp and heavy behind his balls. He groaned once, a short punch of sound, and everything let go. Thick ropes shot up and landed warm on her arches, the underside of her toes, the tender pads still flexing around him. Marie kept stroking through every pulse, milking every drop like a reward she’d earned. The last dribble slid down his shaft, trickled into her grip, and she finally slowed, toes giving one final lazy squeeze. Danny let out a shaky laugh, half-disbelieving, half-blissed. Marie looked up with a smirk that said who dares wins indeed.