Foot Fetish Books Novels & Stories

I said with a smile. "No, not at all, Jody, please let me help you get my panties off," she said as she raised her hips for me while I tugged her panties down her legs, which she had raised up over my head. I tossed her panties aside and started kissing her feet that were raised in front of my face. I loved the feel of her feet against my face. "Am I developing a foot fetish?" I thought to myself.

I had half expected her to decline my offer by tomorrow and the other half of my irrational hope said that it would need some more manipulation, some more sacrifices of my immaculate schedule to get her on board. Yet, she was sitting right here in my living room, wearing an impeccably formal attire for a Friday evening, along with a pair of neck breaking red heels which definitely encouraged some extra attention. Her legs were slim and my fingers itched to trace them, and my lips craved to feel her flesh along her ankle to her lean and tender calf and beyond that. 'Since when did you develop a foot fetish Dar?' I am getting an appointment with my therapist the first thing on Monday.

Hi guys. If you love this book and would like to read other of my works, just head on to my F******k page. The name is “empress fantasies.” Hope you enjoy the rest of the book and don't forget to leave a comment. Thank you for clicking and giving my book a chance. Love you 💕❤️

Maybe. Josh pushes himself up from the floor. I bite my lip, aware of him walking towards the bookshelves but still too stuck in my head to do anything. "Yes!" I spin around, seeing Josh grab a book off the shelf. "Oh! And this one for sure! Mmmm maybe this one, Xavier seems like he could be the kinky type." Kinky? He comes back over to me, handing me three books. "I think these will give you a better reference." I raise a brow, hesitantly taking them from him. "These two," he taps on two of them, "are realistic and sweet. Reminds me of you two. This one," he taps the third, a devious smile growing on his face, "is what I bet Xavier is like in bed."

I bit my lip hard, smiling in the dark. This weekend just got way more interesting. I walked to the bed, robe dropping to the floor. I lay down, slid my hand into my soaked panties, and touched myself while thinking about Reid’s deep voice, his hungry eyes, and exactly where I wanted his hands next.

"Fuck me, Toby. Make me yours. I want your cock inside me. I want it so bad..." She was a lesbian with a fetish. Not, as you may have guessed, a fetish for cock, or for men, or even for not being a lesbian. Nope - Beth knew exactly who she was. She knew what she wanted, and she knew that it wasn't men. Beth liked pussy, exclusively, and (just for fun) I had decided not to mess with that. Instead, I gave her my fetish. Beth, just like me (and just like everyone else I turned, to be fair), had a pregnancy fetish.

The sexual implication behind the movement, coupled with the marvellously erotic sensation, made Harriet feel as though she was turning into liquid and she knew she was becoming moist between her thighs. When he’d finished with her right foot he put it tenderly to the floor and proceeded to repeat the whole process with her left. It was almost more than she could bear; the tender, sensual caresses that soothed and yet aroused at the same time made her whole body long for his touch. If he could have this much effect on her by touching her feet she wondered what would happen if he moved on to more intimate places.

With effortless strength, he lifted me onto the polished surface, shoving aside a stack of leather-bound books and papers that had scattered across the floor with soft thuds. His hands roamed greedily, sliding up my thighs, pushing the hem of my short dress higher, palming my breast, pinching my hard nipples through the thin fabric of my bra until my nipples ached, then sliding between my thighs, he pushed my soaked lace thong aside and plunged two thick fingers straight into my cunt. “Fuck,” he muttered against my neck, his breath hot as he nipped at my skin. “Soaking my hand like a desperate little whore already. This pussy is dripping for Daddy, isn’t it?’

“Do you need a break?” I shake my head, not as a response to his question, but to the internal battle about to consume me. “Good.” He assumes it is my reply and resumes his job. I take a deep breath. Eyes on him, but not for long I start battling the urge to look down. Foot fetish is my dark fantasy. One that I’d rather take to my grave than explore. Because one silly mistake and it may affect my brand. “Pose like you're selling those straps to me.” He groans, quite frustrated at my poses. “Tilt your face… just a little…”