Damn I Love Foot Fetishists!

I'd have to read through my archives to be sure, but I'm confident that every six months or so I post an "ode to the foot fetishist." Before I became a pro-domme I had only had my toes sucked once. I was in college, on a road trip and my bare feet hanging over the passenger seat proved too much temptation for one of my companions to resist. I was confused by how good it felt because I had not yet accepted feet as a sexual region. I still thought they were dirty, gross and ugly. I adore foot fetishists for opening that door for me. Now, I absolutely love having my toes sucked, my soles licked and the ball and heel gently nibbled on. I can now accept the compliments on the size of my feet, the curve of my arches, the spacing between my toes and the wrinkles of my soles.

There are so many variables when it comes to a foot fetish session. Will the attention come from a place of worship and devotion or does it need to be forced as a form of humiliation? Must my feet be freshly pedicured, straight from the salon or have they been marinating in sweat all day? Last night my client reverently removed my snow boots, plastic bags and two pair of socks to reveal my damp and stinkily fragrant feet. After an hour of his tongue washing my feet, ankles and calves, my panties were soaking wet.