“How was your day?” “Mhm?” “I said, ‘how was your day?’” ..

“How was your day?” “Mhm?” “I said, ‘how was your day?’” Briefly, dark green eyes tore away from the book to peer at him. “Lovely, and yours?” “Uh, good, I guess.” Her eyes remained on him, taking in his fidgeting motion, hand running through his hair on the back of his head. He was thinking, struggling for words. Did he want something? “Darling, come sit on the couch with me.” She patted the empty space in front of her pointed toes. She was sitting on the couch, leaning against the arm of it with her legs tucked out at her side, taking up half the furniture. Her eyes turned back to the book and she grew quiet once more save for the turn of a page. Without question, he pulled himself from his chair to settle near her toes. He took his time in letting his eyes roam over her though, the peek-a-boo blouse that gave him glimpses of breast; her fitted skirt that sat bunched on her thighs, revealing where the thigh-high socks ended. A clash between creamy thighs and dark colored socks distracted him, tumbling thoughts in mind. He picked up his own book but found it to be uninteresting with the woman beside him being alluring without her own knowledge. He discovered toes draped in black cotton pawing at his thigh as he sat rigid. He glanced at her but found her not to even be glancing at him. Pursed lips and a furrowed brow he wondered if it was intentional or one of her subconscious motions. He tossed the book onto the coffee table and turned towards her, as if he might try another conversation, but the silence continued. “Mmm…” She dropped the book slightly, looking down at her lap to see uninvited hands traveling across her skin. Reaching over, strong hands pushed the skirt up higher as he let his fingers knead up and down her bare thighs. Her toes wiggled more into his thigh and he gritted his teeth, wanting something. He transferred both hands to one thigh, sliding down until he met the hem of her sock. Drawing his hands back, he took the lengthened sock with him, taking his time, and making sure, he left little red lines from the wake of his nails. When he got down to her ankle, he slowed, leaning down to drag his lips across her smooth shin and calf. He caressed her ankle as he finally withdrew the rest of the sock. Lips trickled down lower, and then up the top of her foot to her toes. He stole a glance up and grinned against her well-pedicured toes; her book was discarded, head was tilted back, flushed cheeks and teeth were digging into her bottom lip. He nipped at her toes, provoking a small gasp from her in surprise. He felt the shudder role through her body as he began to suckle and lap at her toes, soft and tasty. He repeated this process again with her other leg. He was stiff now, cock straining against the zipped of his jeans. The soles of her feet pressed together, keeping her legs in a diamond shape, revealing the black silken and damp panties beneath the skirt. He licked his lips, still the sweet taste of her feet there. He massaged her arches slowly, fidgeting in his seat…almost as if waiting. “Just fuck my feet already.” She groaned, running her hands down her front. That’s what he had wanted to hear, not so much permission but those slurring words, needy with an estranged lust for him. This was his favorite, his strangest desire, though she seemed to have no problem with it. He recalled the first time he’d asked for it, she’d been hesitant and embarrassed (her feet not an attractive thing to her), but was willing to try anything at the very least, twice. He fumbled with his trousers in excitement, provoking a sudden giggle from her. She offered him no assistance, but remained sitting, hands gripping the hem of her skirt as he finally exposed himself. Stroking himself a few times, took her in before anything else, slow breathing, tightened muscles, exposed thighs and of course her awaiting feet. With a lick of his lips he pulled her feet up into his lap, pulling her to lay her back on the couch. He sat upright, looking down on her and felt the first contact of cock to foot. He shuddered and gently bucked his hips, cock grazing against the tops of her feet. She laid back still, watching him and chewing on her bottom lip. Taking one of her ankles into hand he spread her feet apart to press himself in between them. “That’s it…go on,” she encouraged him, one of her hands had released her skirt, coming up to her lips. She began to nibble on her knuckles, enjoying the show. “Fuck ‘em.” He didn’t need much encouragement and adjusted to sit on his knees, pulling her legs up a bit higher. He ground between her feet, a grip on her ankle and another on her toes. He held tightly, and groaned to himself at the feel of soft feet. She took very good care of them for him, and he happily paid for pedicures. It wouldn’t be much longer. Long minutes of playing with her feet, fucking them, watching her resist touching herself. He panted and picked up his pace, thrusting faster and faster. He was desperate to cum now. He felt the ache and need, the pleasure building up. He groaned loudly as he came. His load spilled across her ankles and legs, and a bit onto himself and the couch beneath them. He panted and kept his grip on her feet, thrusting slowly to get the last spurts out with both feet pressed tightly to his pulsing member. In an aftercare manner he began to kiss and lick her feet, gently rubbing her ankles. He massaged the cum into her skin like lotion, feeding possibly dry skin. She didn’t seem to mind, but enjoyed the attention. His hands climbed higher, massaging any bit of her got is hands on. She laid back, still as can be. He always teased her about squirming, though her chest did begin to rise and fall deeply now. Hands found their way to creamy thighs and soon he was on her inner most thigh. He grazed his fingertips over the damp panties and snickered. Gone was the shy man who wanted to fuck feet, but now the confident man who wanted to bring her to climax. “Want me to play with you?” he asked, his turn for dialogue. She made a small noise in reply but it wasn’t enough. He pressed his palm into her, as he kept a knee between her thighs and the other on the outside between her and the couch; he was looming over her. He had a hand pressed to her throbbing loins and the other was unbuttoning her blouse slowly, eyes trying to catch hers. “If you don’t answer me, I won’t play.” He caught her gaze then and she bit into her lip, his palm beginning to grind into her. “Ah! Yes, I-I want to play.” She shuddered and squirmed, trying to create more friction, more stimulation. His smirk brought about a flushness to her cheeks. Gone was the collected woman who let him fuck her feet, but now the aroused submissive who wanted him. He dipped down to nip at her neck and suckle on her throat, continuing is stimulation slowly. Her little sounds provoked him and he growled against her skin. She smelt so good, and she was so soft. Suddenly, he pushed the cloth aside and dipped a long finger inside. She was positively soaking and her walls collapsed around his finger with hunger. He pulled his middle finger out, rotated it and pushed it back in. He bit into her neck as she arched her back, letting out a throaty moan. She was dripping wet; he put in another finger and continued to slowly pump them inside of her, curling and bending them in little ways. “I want you to cum on my hand,” he ordered her, though he didn’t expect it immediately, he was letting her in on the plan. “You’re going to ride my fingers, fuck them…” He trailed off and moved his fingers at a faster pace, pumping them while adding a third finger. She whimpered and he continued to speak, now whispering a growl in her ear. “You’re going to cum at my fingertips, understood?” “Yesssah,” she drawled out in between heavy breaths. He had finished unbuttoning her blouse and had pulled up her bra to sit higher on her chest. Lips wrapped around a rosy nipples, catch both metal and flesh. He sucked on that cool piercing and the heated skin with eagerness. She gasped and dug her nails into the arm of the couch behind her. She had her arms above her head, eyes closed now as he did what he liked with her. Following orders, she began to rotate her hips into his hand, doing as he had ordered. She was a collection of soft noises, whimpers and little whining when he pressed down with his palm onto her sensitive little nub. Her tightness squeezed around his three fingers while the juices slid across his hand and down her backside. A sheen of pleasure, truly. He switched breasts and his free hand took to the bare breast, slick with his saliva. Her small cry of delight, told him he was on the right track as he rubbed the nipple and pawed at the breast playfully. It was all growing too much for her to handle. She worked hard to go faster, to make him move more inside of her. He took the hint and went faster and harder. Soon, she was bucking and tensing up. Her muscles twitched and her pussy was suckling on his fingers in spasms. Panting and tired she laid beneath him. He popped her breast out of his mouth, smirking. “Good girl!” He chuckled and pulled himself up a bit before swooping in and capturing her lips in a kiss. He pulled his fingers out of her slowly, wiggling them. Squirming beneath him, he loved her like that. “Dork,” she replied back, flushed and slowly shying away from submission. She bit his lip and slipped out from underneath him. He grinned as he began to clean his fingers with his tongue, eyes on hers, inflaming her cheeks with heat. He gripped her hips from keeping her from going somewhere to far. “I’m not done with you yet, kitten.” He told her wickedly and caught her in another kiss.