Footjob experiments

Missy never bragged about what she wanted. She just waited till the afternoon light warmed the sheets and then she asked. Her boyfriend lay back, surprised, but already hard by the time her small feet climbed into his lap. She wore the black lace set that barely covered anything, the sheer bra cupping small breasts, the tiny panties disappearing between smooth cheeks. Her straight black hair fell across one shoulder as she studied his cock like a new toy. She pressed both soles together, soft skin wrapping him from either side, and began to stroke. Her arches flexed, toes curling and uncurling over the head, sliding his precum down his length in slow, wet trails. Every squeeze and release felt deliberate. Missy watched his face the whole time, cheeks flushed, learning exactly what pressure made him twitch. Her legs stayed spread just enough for the thin strip of her panties to stay visible, and every time she rolled her hips for better leverage the lace pulled tighter. She found a rhythm that kept him on edge, toes gripping, soles gliding, working him closer without ever rushing. When he started to throb between her feet she simply pressed harder, a tiny smile breaking through the shyness, proud of the mess she was about to make.