The million dollar view, the view the old man can’t get out of his head. So moist, so gummy and I haven’t even given you the dripping sloppy view yet. Watch me slather them up. You can imagine yourself inside them old man, but we both know you couldn’t handle it. My wrinkled, oiled soled would absolutely be the end of you.
It’s seriously entertaining how easily it is to toy with you. You are so desperate for my shoes and I know it. So what if I only allowed you one shoe? You would then be put in a worshipping competition with another footboy. I’d pit you two star crossed lovers against one other for the title of “Best Shoe Cleaner.”
But could you really miss out on both my shoes? Could you really let one of these gems go to another footboy? Aren’t YOU my number one?
I’ll have to charge you double for both of them but don’t worry though, I will keep the game going. I’ll let you compete with yourself. You’ll clean my shoes and send them back to me, a cycle we will continue until there is literally no shoe left to clean, so worn down and out. And then I will let you buy my anther pair to keep playing with my footboy’s devotion.
Foot boy kneels and listens intently as I describe my recent sexcapade with my lover.
Do you think you could every kiss my feet as passionately as he kisses my body? Could you tongue the bottom of my foot the way he ran his tongue up and down my body. A foot bitch on his knees begging to worship my feet doesn’t even compare to my lover’s pleasure. So humiliating hearing about it yet so hot being humiliated by it.
Kiss them nice and delicately, gentle little kisses to put me in the mood. I want it sweet and sensual before you get down and dirty sucking my toes. You’d love to ravish my feet and make sweet, sweet love to them the way my lover took me. But in no way does a foot boy compare.
Forever in chastity, forever blue balled. And the only pleasure you’ll receive is from sniffing my worn socks and savoring my foot dust. Living the rest of your life under my lock and key worshipping my wrinkled soles and everything else that comes with my feet.
Add my socks to your collection. Pay any price. Break the bank if you have to. That’s how much these stinky cute but filthy socks of mine have got you hotter than you’ve ever imagined you’d be.
Sniff my moist sock. Taste my sweet sweat inside your mouth.
Stroking away stuffed full of my socks. Feet smothering your face. Could it get any better than this?
