Romans & histoires Foot Fetish

Our eyes were locked, my jaw held firmly by my own legs, guarded by his big biceps. “Good girl,” he whispered, his breath heavy and paced, eyes piercing deeply into my soul. He pulled back, releasing my legs from his grip. Then came the pounding—deep and rough. Thwack! Thwack! echoed the sound of his cock pounding into my wet pussy. Our body fluids mixed into a scent that was to become my new olfactory fetish.

My pussy area is exposed to public view, and the men and women in the audience devour every inch of me with their gazes. My nipples. My skin. My groin. His fingers hook under my feet, rubbing slowly. “You have such small feet, pet. So dainty and cold. I could have warmed them up for you if you weren't being such a brat. Perhaps some time in the future, when you're apologetic and well-behaved, I will properly suck these little toes.” My stomach clenches in on itself, eyes wide in horror. What the fuck? He can not be talking about my feet, right?!

Tabitha stated, repositioning herself to talk to Blake, who sat on her bed. “So what’s your excuse?” Blake asked, looking at Tabby. “I’m reevaluating this person who we were looking to promote, but he has a very unique fetish that only came to light tonight,” Tabby said, placing her tablet to the side to conduct a conversation with Blake. “Oh? What fetish this rising star has, if I might ask?” Blake asked, almost knowing in his heart. “He loves pregnant women and becomes their subordinate in the presence of them,” Tabby said shyly.

from turning upwards. I probably look like an idiot. She adjusts her body to slouch on the couch and she stretches her legs out towards me and says “so, what do you plan on buy for tonight.” My eyes noticed her pretty little feet and it looked like she just got a pedicure. Dang, do I have a foot fetish? Her feet was close to me but not quite touching me and I’m not disgusted but staring at it. “Finger foods, soda, beer, paper plates, utensils. You know the normal. Why do you want to request anything” I said. Her eyes are closed a bit, I really should leave cause she looks tired but I still can’t bring myself to leave just yet. “Um, Boston Market corn

I grabbed a container of body wash and a scrunchy, got it good and soapy, then began washing her, working down her back, being careful to gently but firmly rub and massage her body. Soon I worked my way down to her feet. She turned, placing a hand upon my head and lifted her foot as I washed and massaged. The soft moans she made encouraged me. Despite my own desire, I didn't spend long on her feet. I'd lost my last girlfriend when I was open about my foot fetish. She was happy when I would surprise her with heels or clothing that emphasized her legs, but the moment I came clean, it was "I can't be with a guy who wants to lick my feet."

I gasped, shocked he'd say something so crass but stopped when he began massaging the soles of my feet. I moaned. "Mmmhmmm. This feels so good. Is it your fetish?" "One of plenty." My eyes never left him. From his actions, I knew he was a pro, unlike me who'd never gone past oral. It made me doubt if I could ever satisfy this beautiful man. He excused himself and returned with a bowl of water, a hand towel, and a jar of lotion. Without a word, he positioned himself in front of me and stroked my feet with soapy water. Then he dabbed the lotion along my toes.

This was getting deeper and deeper than I ever imagined sex and sexual fantasies could go! “The seventh floor is for all things fetish,” I had to interrupt him on that! “What kind of fetishes?” “Oh…like sucking toes and feet, if you like to be covered in cum to finish your night, if you like your partner to lead you around on a leash and treat you like a pet, if you want toys used on you that are not the typical things, some wolves like to urinate on their she-wolf partners to mark them as part of their territory without…marking them as their mate, transgender wolves and she-wolves like to play on that floor,” He tries to give clarification.

He looked up at me as if asking for permission—not with words, but with eyes that burned with something primal. I looked away and lifted my legs so he could slide them off. He took his time. The fabric skimmed down my thighs, over my knees, and past my ankles. And then, like worship, he kissed the top of my foot. Then he kissed my ankle. Then the inside of my calf. Higher. The curve of my knee. Higher. My inner thigh. Every kiss was torture to my skin. I hated the way it felt. Does he have a foot fetish or what?

The way her body moved against him, expressing her pleasure, made his head swim and his dick grow so hard against the zipper of his jeans he thought he might explode in his pants. "Can't wait, baby," he mumbled, reaching under her skirt and yanking her panties down her legs. They caught on her boots. He pulled the boots off then proceeded to strip her panties and socks off. Her tiny feet caught him off guard. The were so perfectly shaped, the delicate bones filling his big hands and the tiny toenails, painted bright purple, wiggling against him. He'd always thought foot fetishes to be laughable, but now he was reconsidering. His girl had the sexiest feet he'd

He nearly came in his pants. His first orgasm was watching a woman suck the toes of another woman. The feet were perfect. Red toenail polish, white, but slightly tan feet. Both women were naked, but all they did was play with each other's feet. He had never seen videos like these. He wondered why he had never seen any videos of foot sex, then he realized that there was a separate category in the Tags section for "Foot Fetish." They probably didn't get sorted with the mainstream videos. "Is that what this is about?" He whispered to himself. "Do I have a foot fetish?"