~ erotica ~
I laid across his couch, and across him, as we watched Hulu. It was a cold evening, his house a bit chill, so I hadn’t thought about taking off my boots. But then he asked, gesturing at the leather in his lap.
“You don’t have to unlace them. There is a zipper on the side, if you just unsnap that flap.”
My jeans were cuffed to show off the jump boots I’d found in a thrift store a few weeks ago. I loved them so much; they were the only shoes I’d worn since that purchase.
He ran his hand down from the toe of the leather to the top of the boot, then eased up the snap, loosing the flap. The sound echoed in his small living room. That was when I noticed I was holding my breath. As he drew the zipper down the length of my boot, I sighed. He, however, never looked up from his ritual.
Gripping my calf in one hand and my heal in the other, my leg rose as he pealed off my right boot. When he went for the sock, I protested.
“You know, I’ve never seen your feet.”
I hadn’t actually thought about it. We’d been friends for years, but had only been dating for about a month.
“Well, will you keep them warm?”
His fore fingers hooked at the top and drew my sock down from my knee. His nails tickled my skin. I bit my lip to keep from giggling. Any time I gave him any tell when it came to tickling me, he was merciless. When he’d bunched up the whole of the fabric on my foot, he pinched the toe of the sock and pulled off the length. After folding it up, he placed the sock inside of the boot.
I rolled my hips, bringing my left foot into his purview while tucking my right foot in between his thighs for warmth. To my great shock, I brushed his hard cock restrained within his jeans. I heard his brief inhale. His eyes darted towards me.
I didn’t know what to say. I could see the desire in his gaze. On accident, I had discovered something he’d never told me in our years of confidence.
As much as I made myself ignore it for far too long, whenever our eyes met I could feel his hands all over me. It was intoxicating and overwhelming, and often I’d quickly look away. This time was no different. My eyes went to his lap.
“You still have one left.”
It sounded more cheeky than I intended. His grin formed in my periphery.
He turned back to my boot. Repeated his order as before. I watched the care, the intention with each motion. As he worked, his thighs hugged my ankle. I felt his still erect cock the entire time.
When he finished, he lifted my foot from between his legs and placed both my feet in his lap. He began caressing them, then massaging them.
His touch grew firmer. My breathing became heavy. I let my eyes close and my head roll back.
“Shit, you’re good at this.”
He raised my right foot. I gasped as his teeth sunk in.
I writhed on the couch beside him. He bit my arch, then sucked. His lips encircled the ball of my foot. He licked in between my toes, then put all of them in his mouth. I intermittantly sighed or cried out.
When he released my foot from his mouth, he turned his entire body towards me. Kneeling on the couch, he made to straddle me. I caressed his cock with my feet as he leaned in for a kiss. His hand guided me as my toes brushed up and down, up and down. His lips moved to my neck, his free hand gripping my hair, pulling my head to the side. Even so, I bit his nearby ear, then whispered to him.
“So nice to know there are still things to learn about you.”
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