Feet Dangle, Dangle & Mista Barista

(See accompanying clip: Feet Dangle, Dangle At the Coffee Shop)

I knew he was watching my feet. I thought I would tease him while I worked on my novel.

Maybe he liked dangling. Maybe he liked my heels. What if he was an arch man. I wonder how kinky he is. Is he imagining my arches running over the firmness in his pants? Is he imagining me imagining that?

I wonder if he can tell I’m a kinkstress. Maybe he’s imagining me pinning him against the wall, taking in his fragrance, feeling him up with my hands while I stand on his feet. Seeing how he takes the pressure of my soles on the top of his feet, my heels gently resting on his toes. He’s a pretty boy I don’t want to hurt him.

But I do want him to experience a tiny taste of how good it might feel for me to make love to him with my feet.

I won’t take his clothes off. He will be standing there, against the wall, breathing in my intoxicating scent, reveling in my sinful presence.

I step off his feet and he relaxes, beginning to step away from the wall. “Oh no, dear,” I smile, pushing him back against the wall with my foot.

After an awkward pause I lean back into him until there’s just an inch of space.

“Our auras are mingling,” I say with a mischievous grin. I see him swallow, his Adam’s apple bowing to the seductress he did not seduce.

I put my hands on his shoulders and kiss his chest. I look him straight in the eyes and my lips get dangerously close to his.

I kiss the corner of his mouth and rub my cheek against his jaw, exhaling. I step back on his feet and smile.

“Hello Mista Barista! You’re so divine!”

See what Mista Barista was seeing… Keiko’s Feet Dangle, Dangle At the Coffee Shop

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