Foot Fetish Books Novels & Stories

Chapter 1 My legs were spread apart as I laid down on my bed completely naked. I grabbed unto my sheet as my eyes rolled to the back, I moaned out loudly, knowing fully well no one could possibly hear me, not with the music I was blasting. I pushed the vibrator deeper into myself, my legs shaking as it went in. I kept my pacing slow, letting my body enjoy it, I even teased myself as I went. I started picturing it was him, driving deep into me.

She said she was planning to have a child, but that she was still struggling every day for her new job “which was now one of the most expensive hotels in the city “to buy her own house. In my case, my friends were even more shocked to notice that not only was there an engagement ring on my finger, but I had also managed to release my first physical book, thanks to Beatrice's contact with the publisher I worked for. I always thought that publishing a book in real life was the same as doing this on the internet, but it was a pleasant surprise to have to attend one of the bookstores in the capital for the launch, and realize that there really were people to buy my book and receive an exclusive

I said, in the hopes of distracting her from the fact I’d been staring. She smiled, flashing teeth and a small dent in one cheek. “Thanks. I have a bit of a fetish.” Nodding, I totally understood. “Mine’s shoes,” I admitted, causing her to skim her gaze down my knee-torn skinny jeans to the rolled-up hems where I wore a pair of platform black booties with little leather tassels hanging from the sides. “If I could have a closet solely dedicated to shoes, I’d need about three of them.”

She couldn't. The book tumbled to the floor as he yanked her thighs apart. No more patience. No more hesitation. Just the raw, desperate heat of her body clenching around him as he fucked her like the illustrations promised—hard, deep, unforgiving. Duy Nam fucked Ánh Nguyệt relentlessly—bent over the bed, her legs hooked over his shoulders, pressed against the wall with her silk robes shoved up around her waist. Every page of that damned book came alive beneath his hands, her moans growing louder, her body slick and swollen with need.

I can feel her relaxing. “You, on the other hand, have the most beautiful feet. You don’t happen to have an OnlyFans account by any chance?” I ask while massaging the arch of her foot. I’m guessing it’s an erogenous zone because she tosses her head back and lets out a deep moan. “Why? You want to manage my foot fetish clients? I hear there’s big money to be made,” she laughs. She looks at me while I continue working my magic with her feet. They feel soft and supple, with dainty veins running up and down. Touching her tattoo, I ask her what it means.

They should have counted themselves lucky that he wanted to let out this luxurious apartment to them. Unaware that Vanessa wasn’t in the house, he went up to the girls’ wing to introduce himself properly and lay down rules. He got to Charlotte’s door first. He wanted to knock when he heard a squeak followed by an intense vibration. Now, Charlotte was moaning loudly, and he facepalmed himself. Why were the women in his home so sexually compromised? First, it was Vanessa’s rose toy. Now, he was sure that Charlotte was in there electrocuting her pussy with a vibrator. He knocked and the vibration stopped instantly.

She pulled it out, sneezed once as dust motes tickled her nostrils, and lowered the book on the coffee table. The title was written in cursive gold letters, 'The Art Of The Body'. Clearly out of curiosity, she opened to the middle of the book, and her eyes nearly popped out in pure mortification. The book contained explicit diagrams of men and women in different, erotic, sexual poses.

Her words dropped off at the end of her statement. "You're never too old." It was hard not to gather her close and promise to teach her himself. He stretched out on the couch and put his bare feet down near her lap. She wiggled over and placed them on her legs. She turned slightly toward him and began massaging his right foot. He knew he was probably drooling, but didn't care; her hands were magic. He liked to tease Matt with his foot fetish, but really he loved the feel of soft hands on his feet. Not that he didn't like soft hands on his cock, but this was different. It was a non-sexual act that turned him on quicker than almost anything else.

Caspian rested at my feet, his silver-blond head pillowed on my thigh, fingers lightly tracing patterns on my skin. The night’s passions replayed in vivid flashes— their mouths and hands everywhere, the way they had filled me so completely, the strange hum of ancient magic that had amplified every touch until I was lost in ecstasy. My body ached sweetly, marked with faint bruises and bites that served as claims. Yet instead of shame, a deep, budding warmth filled my chest. This was no ordinary arrangement. The veil between worlds called to something deep within me, awakening gifts I had only glimpsed in my herbal work.