Wiggly Toes

Sun's hammering down like it wants to melt everyone in the yard. Doesn't seem to bother Taissia. She strolls out barefoot, wearing nothing worth mentioning, and wiggles her toes at Renato like she's tossing him car keys. "Outside," she says, and he already knows the script. She drops to the grass, plants both feet on either side of his jeans, unzips with her teeth because her hands are busy rubbing lotion on her own chest. The moment his cock clears cotton, she flips the script again: feet up first, arches like she's on a tightrope, and squeezes him between warm, soft soles. The lotion helps. Every pump, every slide. She smiles the whole time. When she feels him twitch hard enough, she swings one foot up, catches him with pink-painted toes while her mouth takes over the head. Lips seal around the tip; tongue curls and explores whatever her mouth can reach. Her left hand sneaks between her legs and plays with the lips there, slow circles. She's loud, but not for show; honest sound, happy and a little greedy. When the guy grabs the grass like he needs a seatbelt, she laughs against his shaft and moves everything faster. Toes wiggle on rhythm. The cumshot happens exactly where she aimed it: thick ropes across her arches and between her toes. Warm, shiny, dirty. She rubs it in the way some girls moisturize, flexes her feet so he can watch the mess stretch between every digit, then winks and tells him next round she wants it inside. Renato just lies there blinking at the sky like he got hit by weather.