Experiencing Foot Fetish

Poppy Pleasure slips out of her heels and watches Raul Costa’s gaze drift down. Her soles find his cock, smooth, warm, alive. She slides them up and down, slow, then faster, pressing the arch just under the head until he throbs. Poppies toes grip and stroke, precise, greedy. When his breath roughens she leans in, tongue out, taking him deep while her feet never leave his skin. She works him like that—mouth wet, feet slick—until he spills over her painted toes and soft soles in thick, heavy ropes.