Fantastic Feet

Tiffany Tatum stretches on the couch in lingerie so thin you can count her breaths. She waits, warm and tight, already picturing Kristof between her legs. When he steps close she reaches out with both feet, slim and pale, and cups him through his jeans. Her soles press and stroke until he’s stiff enough to tug free, then she wraps those pretty toes around his thick length and starts a slow, gliding footjob. Every twist of her ankle draws a fresh pulse from him, every flex of her arches makes his cock twitch. Tiffany’s own small breasts rise and fall with quick breaths; the hard little tips push against lace while she watches the shiny head of him disappear, then peek, between the soft pads of her feet. She leans in, lips parting, and takes him into her mouth without letting go below—tongue swirling while her toes keep sliding up and down his shaft. The rhythm grows slicker, wetter. She moans around the crown, spit dripping down to slick her soles, and the double grip of lips and feet pushes Kristof right to the edge. A final, tighter stroke of those elegant feet finishes him, thick ropes spilling across her arches and calves in heavy, hot pulses.