>>724731001
She figures what got me excited about Lune was her feet. She sighs with frustration and sits down on a stool just across from me, before lifting her skirt slightly and raising her bare feet toward me as I look back at her, incredulity in my face. "Well you're going to have to get it out of your system if you're to be of any use to me" she says in her typical snide, condescending tone. I inch toward her, still incredulous, and she sighs again, turning away this time, growing increasingly impatient. "Well, get on with it". What happens next is exactly what you'd expect, I grasp her foot with both hands and spend the next several minutes licking her delightful soft, clean, pale soles and sucking on her toes.
What's strange is the lack of detail despite feeling so vivid. The story was fractured but I could sense the mood, the urge, the taste, the texture, the sensation, all quite intensely. But I suppose it isn't about verisimilitude, it's about essence, and I feel my scenario captured the essence of who Clea is. That's why I blew the most intense load I've blown in a long time. I'm 33 years old and I don't often bust quite that hard. No post-nut shame came over me I lay there having typhooned all over the place, now covered in my own chroma. In fact I felt rather pleased with myself.
