I own a pair of cherry red socks.
You confessed you had a foot fetish, but that was in a bygone era, when we were still lovers. But now I wonder. Would these socks still turn you on?
I sniff them fresh from the dryer. The feel of starched cloth on my feet juxtaposed with the soft cotton cloth of the shirt you loved, the shirt you left behind, is lovely. I shiver as I think of you.
Would you like the feel of these socks on your feet? Would you like the feel of my feet in these socks on your feet? Or gently up your shins, skimming your calves and tickling the insides of your thighs?
You confessed you had a foot fetish, but that was in a bygone era, when we were still lovers. But now I wonder. Would these socks still turn you on?
I sniff them fresh from the dryer. The feel of starched cloth on my feet juxtaposed with the soft cotton cloth of the shirt you loved, the shirt you left behind, is lovely. I shiver as I think of you.
Would you like the feel of these socks on your feet? Would you like the feel of my feet in these socks on your feet? Or gently up your shins, skimming your calves and tickling the insides of your thighs?