Barefoot

Kissy moves through the house barefoot, her soles catching the light as they flex and wrinkle with each step. Those pretty toes, pink and soft, press against the hardwood before lifting again, one foot at a time, slow and deliberate. She knows exactly what she’s showing. The hem of her lingerie rides up when she sits on the edge of the bed, legs open, one foot dangling so the arch curves just right. Her fingers slip between her thighs, rubbing slow circles while the other hand cups her breast, pinching the nipple through lace. She rubs harder, hips tilting, her bare foot lifting higher so every line and crease shows. She spreads wider, breathing faster, toes curling when she comes, still stroking herself through the aftershocks, the room quiet except for the wet sound of her fingers and the soft drag of her sole along the sheets.