Shoe Smelling Oily Handjob
As you step onto the plush green couch, your eyes lock onto the sight of him kneeling before you. His hands nervously clutch the sides of his oily work pants, stained from a long day of toil under your command. His gaze remains fixed on your feet, breathing in the intoxicating scent of sweat and dirt that clings to them. You arch your back slightly, feeling the leather of your high heels cut into your flesh, but the pain only adds to the excitement that courses through your veins.
You lean down, pressing your perfected body against him, feeling his cock twitch against your leg. You know he's desperate for you to make him your foot slave, to make him beg for your attention. You tease him, running your hands along the inside of your thighs, feeling the softness of your skin contrast with the roughness of his calloused hands. He whimpers in anticipation, lifting his head towards you, his eyes filled with an insatiable hunger.
You smile, reaching down and grabbing his face in your hands. "You want this, don't you?" you whisper, your voice low and seductive. He nods frantically, unable to speak, his gaze fixed on your feet. You lean back slightly, admiring the sight of him worshipping you. "Good boy," you murmur, running your finger along the seam of your pantyhose. He moans, the sound echoing off the walls around you.
Slowly, you lower yourself onto the couch, your legs spreading invitingly. He crawls between them, his hands finding their way up your thighs, pressing against your pantyhose. You gasp, feeling the warmth of his touch against your skin. "That's it," you breathe, leaning back against the couch. "Touch me."
His rough hands slide up your inner thighs, inching closer to your hidden treasure. You close your eyes, feeling the anticipation build. Suddenly, he stops, his hands hovering just above your panties. You open your eyes, glaring down at him. "What are you waiting for?" you demand.
Without waiting for an answer, he pushes aside your panties, revealing your glistening folds. You gasp, feeling his warm breath against your most sensitive spot. He leans forward, pressing his lips against your pussy, inhaling deeply. You tremble with excitement, feeling the power he has over you.
As he begins to kiss and lick your folds, you reach down, grabbing his hair. You pull him closer, feeling his tongue dance across your clit. Your body shudders, arching into his touch. "That's it," you moan, your voice hoarse. "Make me cum."
His tongue flicks against your clit, again and again, until you can't take it anymore. You scream, your body convulsing with pleasure. He pulls away, looking up at you with pride and satisfaction. "Thank you, Mistress," he whispers, his voice filled with awe.
You smile, reaching down and grabbing his cock. "Now it's time for you to cum," you breathe, squeezing his shaft. He groans, his hips bucking against your hand. You guide him, stroking him until he's ready to explode.
With a primal cry, he shoots his load across your feet, filling the air with the unmistakable scent of his release. You watch, transfixed, as he collapses onto the floor, exhausted but satisfied. You stand, feeling the weight of his cum dripping from your heels.
"Get up," you command, your voice echoing through the room. Slowly, he raises himself to his knees, his eyes never leaving your feet. "Now, smell my feet," you say, leaning forward slightly. He inhales deeply, taking in the sweet scent of sweat and dirt that clings to your shoes. "That's the smell of submission," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper. "And it will be the only thing that reminds you of me."
With that, you turn and walk away, leaving him kneeling on the floor, his hands clutching at the air, his mind filled with the scent
