She doesn't know you're here. Feel that? That's the guilt turning into need. My feet are right here. Soft. Waiting. Press them to your lips like the secret they are. She gives you duty. I give you permission. Permission to worship. To taste. To finally let that desperate want out of its cage. You're not cheating. You're confessing. With every kiss to my arch. Every breath against my sole. Every thought that isn't hers anymore. She'll never know. But you'll remember. This room. My voice. The way my toes curl when you beg without sound. Come closer. My feet are lonely for a sinner's mouth.
