Naked except for the collar, the woman had been kneeling on the ground from where I stumbled leg crossed over the different clothes in my latex apparel on the cozy chair.
Knowing she would not dare appear, I listened to myself in the woman's attitude. So many indicators that prospective voyeurs would not detect -- but that constantly betray her brazenness into me.
Kneeling attractively -- but close to my bare feet, I can feel her hot and thirsty breath within my feet. Head bowed --definitely so that I did not view and punish the unbridled desire within her eyes, and also the proud twist within her unapologetic vivid red lipsticked lips. They had got her to difficult times because it had been. Long hair half-hiding her encounter, not coyness, but to hide her own smiles and also to take pleasure in the feeling of her own hair tickling and teasing her stiff nipples. Her hands set on her thighs facing her not a symbolic platitude, however, her wrists cradled and encouraged her free tits, pushing them forwards. Those excited black, pink nipples were presented to my delectation. I took a minute to idly emphasize about hitting down and making you in every finger and thumb and twisting them until she cried. My cunt was wet, but the wetness pooled in the inside of the thighs, and then gradually spread into the latex cloth underneath my arse.
I took a deep breath and then answered the question she had asked me a minute before.
"Yes, little foot slut; you'll worship my toes. Ensure that you do a comprehensive job, or you will not touch them for quite a while."
"yes, mistress."
Her answer was filled with barely concealed enthusiasm, and she only managed to stop himself before she destroyed everything by appearing at me. Looking up in Mistress' face is strictly prohibited unless given express consent. Or an immediate control, needless to say.
From preceding foot worship sessions, then the woman knew she was just permitted to contact her mouth. No other portion of her entire body. No palms, and undoubtedly no humping. As I had told her enough occasions, her mouth would be to get serving Mistress. In whatever manner I need. In reality, she may like mouth-worshipping my toes even more magnificent than she loves pushing her tongue deep in my cunt. And she enjoys getting her tongue buried within my cunt.
With one hand across her hair and another steadying herself onto the ground, she attracted those full, smeared red lips into their favorite destination. My right foot, which was hanging so teasingly near her face and that was swung on my left-handed me onto the ground underneath the seat.
Her handsome, respectful yells to every toe left subdued red lipstick marks that contrasted with all the silver nail polish she had implemented throughout my duvet the former day. Every time her lips went their relationship with my feet, a tingle jumped through my entire body, like power linking from deep inside my cunt into my clit and up to my naked-beneath-latex nipples and eventually caught in my neck. The possible energy of climax yet to emerge.
Satisfied that she had given a lot of a worshipful welcome for my feet, the woman proceeded to kiss the thin skin over my painted and red smeared toe-nails. As far as I mastered and controlled my servant woman, the urge to reach down under my latex dress and apply the pussy juices that had pooled there to finger fuck myself into a quick orgasm was nearly unbearable. I contented myself by focusing on the senses from her mouth into my foot and considering how I would make her cover my distractions afterward.
It was apparently a battle for her, also; once kneeling with my toes she desired was to kiss my toes, but when permitted to worship them like this her covetous slut heart wanted more. It required her self-control to not straddle my dangling-in-mid-air foot and then rub her very own shaven smooth and glisteningly moist pussy hard on it, then humping herself into a powerful orgasm.
That picture did divert me for an instant, such a fun idea. No, even more for its punishment that the woman would be given for the greed, absence of self-control plus disobedience subsequently. She certainly would not be rubbing against her pussy on whatever else for a short time.
Coming back into the current, the woman was doing a superb job of keeping a semblance of self-control and finished her kiss-journey within my own foot. Little, respectful kisses initially, tongue afterward. A slow build. I would like to understand and observe that she is able to demonstrate that amount of self-control. Also, I wish to sadistically love her distress as she struggles to not drool all over my toes and push all my feet into her mouth simultaneously enjoy a poorly trained pup. Yes, she had been performing well. Great. I desired her to make the best to provide me the climaxes I had been getting desperate for me personally.
Her tongue hesitantly darted outside to sense beneath my little toe, and that she had been convinced to maintain her eyes flipped down the entire time. I knew she would be tasting that the heat in the afternoon beneath every toe, then going to envision her tongue between every toe, also. My toes were clammy from being cooped up within the thigh-high boots daily, boots that she had expertly unlaced and removed. Reputation about in high heeled boots hours gave my toes an overlaid odor of leather in addition to the somewhat salty musk of sweat and the faint touch of body scrub in my morning shower.
I knew she had been in foot worship heaven at the moment. I also had been enjoying the sensations of her tongue listen to every toe, under, involving and eventually popping every toe in her mouth after another sucking lightly to wash. Every toe got its miniature blow-job along with my miniature dick, my clit, was throbbing fairly painfully to acquire its special focus. My head kept darting between loving the senses the woman was lavishing in my toes and questioning just how much a power swap disturbance it is to push my head between my thighs then and there and also hump my own cunt on her face until I came back loudly.
She looked terrific now, more than any other moment. Probably because she had been doing precisely what she had been created to offer oral love for her Mistress' feet. I could watch her breasts swaying this way, and I knew there would be a pool because of her tongue to head beneath her around the wooden flooring after she had finished, before being used to wash up my wetness. The mess that was my foot seemed beautiful to me the comparison of red lipstick circles around each toe and crimson lip marks covering the very top of my foot into my porcelain skin. This foot worship has been hot for us, charging our libidinous bodies together with the capacity for many volatile orgasms each through the evening.
But, she had another foot to beg. And that I had a renewed battle to not touch -- or her -- till she was completed.
