Moonlight blues

She’d known it would happen, the first time their chat turned filthy. He had a thing for feet. So did she. Last night she stopped typing and told him to come over. He did. They wasted no time. Nina pushed him onto the couch, kicked off her heels, and set both bare soles against his mouth. He kissed every inch, slow, almost reverent. She watched the way his eyes closed when her toes brushed his lips. The room filled with quiet, wet sounds. He sucked each toe deep, licked between them, moved lower to the soft arch. Nina felt heat build between her legs. She reached down, unzipped him, and took his cock in her hand. Her hand was small, her grip tight. She stroked while he kept tasting her feet, and soon she leaned in, mouth open, taking him between her lips. Blonde hair fell forward. She worked him with steady rhythm, tongue circling, saliva shining. Her feet stayed busy, resting on his chest, pressing lightly against his face. Every time he moaned into her soles she sucked harder. They stayed that way until the night blurred into gasps and heat and the slick slide of skin against skin.