I know exactly why you're here. You saw my feet—and instantly, you needed them. The way I move them, stretch them, flex my toes just to drive you wild. I tease you slow, smirk on my lips, knowing you’d do anything just to get closer. But you don’t get to touch. You don’t get anything unless you beg. These perfect feet are for worship, not for losers to enjoy. So go ahead—drool, ache, and admit it... you're completely obsessed with me.
