"Sure" you reply, though it is muted through the socked foot stuffed into your mouth. "I want you to worship my socks. Do not stop until I say. Is that clear, Jack?" You simply nod. The feel of the socks in your mouth is indescribable. You can tell that Jill takes care of her feet. You can taste a faint trace of lotion in the sock. She now flips over onto her back and switches feet. "Don't forget my other foot. It feels lonely. You are still nice and hard. Are you enjoying this?" Once again you simply nod. "Good. I want you to lick my socked soles. I know that they are slightly dirty, but a little dirt never hurt." You smile and take Jill's foot in your hand. You study the soon to be wet white sock. You can begin to make out the shape of her foot through the dirt. She must have a super high arch. You begin by taking small, cat like licks at Jill's sock. You are so caught up in the intoxication of the moment that you don't even notice the dirt. It just adds to the presentation. You think of it as a garnish to the dish. She starts to rub your neck while you are servicing her other foot, the movie now a distant memory. "Kiss my sock." You pucker up and begin dropping long, wet kisses to the sole, heel, and tops her foot. She now has slipped her foot under your shirt and is massaging your chest with it, while moving her hand under her shirt. You hear a slight moan escape her lips. Suddenly you hear the door open and close. "Jack? Jill? Anyone here?"
Do you meet up with the guest or wait for them in the basement?
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