With Wivien

Who could turn down a day with Wivien? She’s barefoot in a loose top and tiny shorts, toenails painted pale. She tucks her legs under her on the couch, then swings them over your lap. “Honey, my feet are freezing. Rub them for me?” You take one slender foot in your hands and start working warmth back into the sole. The skin is cool and smooth, the arch high. She sighs, leans back, and slides a hand beneath her waistband. Her fingers move in slow circles as you knead each toe. The other foot nudges your thigh, pressing against the growing heat there. She smiles, eyes half-closed, and keeps touching herself while you stroke every inch of her chilled, delicate feet.