Silk and the power of a beauty in white stockings
The red sofa is specially designed to give her magnificent curves. She lies on her stomach, stretching out her long, beautiful legs. The white stockings that tightly hug her feet shine exceptionally dazzlingly against the red upholstery of the sofa.
I sit on a low ottoman at her feet, mesmerized by every movement of her soles. The nylon on her heels is became worn out and this only increase a desire to touch, smell and lick it. Her toes move slowly, her feet rubbing against each other with lazy grace. The rustle of synthetic fibers - soft but distinct - makes my heart beat faster.
She does not look at me, but is completely immersed in reading the news feed on her phone. But the corner of her lips trembles slightly - she knows that I cannot take my eyes off her feet.
— Aren't you tired of glazing at my feet? — Her voice sounds mockingly innocent, but she doesn't stop slowly rubbing her feet beside my face.
I remain silent, only inhaling deeper the subtle scent of her skin, mixed with the barely perceptible aroma of nylon.
— Do you sniff them? — Her voice sounded much sharper.
I remained silent again.
— I asked you, do you sniff them? — her feet suddenly came closer, and the nylon pads lay on my lips.
— Yes... — I burst out hoarsely.
She laughed — low, almost purring. Her toes squeezed my chin, the stockings rustled like snakeskin.
— Do you like the way they smell? Tell me!
— Yes... — I was choking. — They smell... of you. Of perfume... and...
— And sweat? — she pressed her feet harder on my neck.
— And... nylon... — I moaned, pinned between her nylon feet.
She slowly held her foot on my face, leaving a sticky and sweet scent of her sweaty nylon feet.
— Well, since you like it so much... — she says, slowly drawing out each word. Her heels are now very close to my face, and I can see every smallest crease on the stockings. She deliberately slowly curling her feet, demonstrating how the nylon hugs her feet shapes.
— ...then you will continue to sit and sniff. And watch. — Her eyes sparkled. — And if you dare to touch without permission...
She abruptly pressed her foot against my chest.
— …I'll blindfold you, plug your nose and gag your mouth and then continue to rub my feet together right in front of your face, but you but you won't be able to enjoy them anymore...
I froze. My heart was pounding somewhere in my throat.
She smiled, pleased, and lay down on the sofa again.
—Good boy. Now sit still.
And I sat quietly. And breathed. And sniffed. And watched.
And she dominated me and I enjoyed that...
I sit on a low ottoman at her feet, mesmerized by every movement of her soles. The nylon on her heels is became worn out and this only increase a desire to touch, smell and lick it. Her toes move slowly, her feet rubbing against each other with lazy grace. The rustle of synthetic fibers - soft but distinct - makes my heart beat faster.
She does not look at me, but is completely immersed in reading the news feed on her phone. But the corner of her lips trembles slightly - she knows that I cannot take my eyes off her feet.
— Aren't you tired of glazing at my feet? — Her voice sounds mockingly innocent, but she doesn't stop slowly rubbing her feet beside my face.
I remain silent, only inhaling deeper the subtle scent of her skin, mixed with the barely perceptible aroma of nylon.
— Do you sniff them? — Her voice sounded much sharper.
I remained silent again.
— I asked you, do you sniff them? — her feet suddenly came closer, and the nylon pads lay on my lips.
— Yes... — I burst out hoarsely.
She laughed — low, almost purring. Her toes squeezed my chin, the stockings rustled like snakeskin.
— Do you like the way they smell? Tell me!
— Yes... — I was choking. — They smell... of you. Of perfume... and...
— And sweat? — she pressed her feet harder on my neck.
— And... nylon... — I moaned, pinned between her nylon feet.
She slowly held her foot on my face, leaving a sticky and sweet scent of her sweaty nylon feet.
— Well, since you like it so much... — she says, slowly drawing out each word. Her heels are now very close to my face, and I can see every smallest crease on the stockings. She deliberately slowly curling her feet, demonstrating how the nylon hugs her feet shapes.
— ...then you will continue to sit and sniff. And watch. — Her eyes sparkled. — And if you dare to touch without permission...
She abruptly pressed her foot against my chest.
— …I'll blindfold you, plug your nose and gag your mouth and then continue to rub my feet together right in front of your face, but you but you won't be able to enjoy them anymore...
I froze. My heart was pounding somewhere in my throat.
She smiled, pleased, and lay down on the sofa again.
—Good boy. Now sit still.
And I sat quietly. And breathed. And sniffed. And watched.
And she dominated me and I enjoyed that...
10ヶ月前
