feet

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I knew what Daddy wanted. There’s only one thing that always brought that soft, knowing smile to his lips. Especially because Mommy hated it more than anything else in the world! No shoes, never shoes for this. Daddy told me I had to go to my closet and throw all of my shoes in the trash. I walked barefoot through the garden, deliberately, slowly. Across the freshly turned earth where Daddy had planted his roses, so that my soles were black and soil hid between my toes.

When I stepped back into the kitchen, I walked directly to Daddy, standing between his spread knees as he sat in his worn armchair. I extended my feet, crusted with garden debris. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he slowly, deliberately, picked up my ankle and lowered his head. His tongue was warm, sweeping away the grit, the soil, the evidence of my outdoor adventure.

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Sole Licker

 

Francie 1844-332-2369 xXx 208

Ian kneeled at the foot of my recliner. He wore a hooded mask, clamped around his throat with a collar which was padlocked at the nape of his neck and nothing else. Of course, he knew better than to speak or beg. He’s such a good boy for his Mistress. Ian is a foot fucker, a sole licker and his favorite thing is to bathe my tootsies with his tongue.

It had been a long day for both of us. Ian has a very high-powered job that demands much mental fortitude from him, and I had an early morning workout and then, of course, work. My workout socks were soaked in sweat, and I didn’t have time to shower. I simply switched from smelly sneakers to cramped high heels for work. You better believe my poor feet had been slipping and sliding in my heels all afternoon.

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