Which Pair Should I Choose?

Heather Starlet holds two sandals up to the light. Gold or purple? Both straps cling to her bare foot the same way she likes to cling to something thick. Danny watches. He doesn’t pick—he just steps closer and lets his cock do the talking. She drops the shoes, drops to her knees, wraps a painted hand around him, and starts tasting every inch like a slow, wet test-drive. He fills her mouth, then her throat. Spit trails down his shaft and she follows it with her tongue until he’s slick and throbbing against her cheek. When he pulls out, she lifts her feet to his chest and flexes her toes. Danny rubs himself between those soles, slides along the arch, pumps faster. Heat builds. His load lands warm across her face, streaking her lashes, her lips, the tops of her feet. The sandals lie forgotten. Gold or purple doesn’t matter now; she already picked the prize that fits.