She sat on the bed with high heels on. She’d heard about guys and their foot fetish, but never met one. She thought feet were gross even though hers were well-kept and manicured.
No flakes. No callous. No hammer time on the toes.
Tiffany’s nakedness turned him on. She wore nothing except fishnet stockings and high heels. Fishnets were gun powder to his arousal. He stepped to her side of the bed without a word since they got to the loft. He slid off her heels and grabbed an open bottle of champagne rosé from the nightstand.
Those pretty toes got his dick hard to the point where he used one of her heels as a cup for the champagne.
He held the arch of the heel and tipped it toward his mouth. Bubbles fizzed from slow sips. The sweetness kissed his taste buds. He licked his lips from the taste of the rosé as his nose picked up the aroma of the sweet, fresh scent of strawberry lotion from her foot after a long shower.
“Hmmmm.” He got his rocks off from using her heel as a champagne glass.
“How I taste?” She teasingly licked her lips.