The soft, warm skin of her foot presses against my lips, her toes curling slightly as I gently kiss each one. Her voice, a sultry whisper, fills the room as she describes her encounter from just hours ago. ‘Five hours ago, I was on my knees, taking a mouthful of cum,’ she says, her words painting a vivid picture in my mind. I can almost taste the salt on her skin, the lingering scent of another man’s desire mingling with her own unique aroma. It’s a heady mix, one that both excites and humiliates me, a reminder of my place in this dynamic.
Five Hours Ago, She Was on Her Knees
Her words are a stark contrast to the tender act of foot worship I’m performing. The cushion beneath me is soft, but my body is tense, every nerve ending alive with a mix of emotions. I can feel the weight of her gaze on me, her eyes watching as I lavish attention on her feet. The pink choker around her neck is a stark reminder of her dominance, a symbol of the power she holds over me. I’m her cuck, her plaything, and in this moment, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Her Feet, My Obligation
As I continue to worship her feet, her story unfolds, each word a new layer of humiliation and desire. She describes the taste, the feel, the sheer intensity of her experience. And I listen, my heart pounding in my chest, my body responding to her every word. Her feet, once a source of comfort, are now a symbol of my submission, a reminder of the pleasure she seeks elsewhere. But in this moment, as I kiss her toes and listen to her tales, I am content, lost in the complex web of our dynamic.







I love hearing how well her black lover pounded her married white pussy, flooding her pussy with his black sperm.