(for Miss M)
I come into the presence of the Goddess and it is her feet that captivate me first: those perfect white feet that are pointed and offered carelessly to my worshipful lips and tongue. Cleaning the Goddess's feet is a wonderful job. I imagine the cool curves in my eager mouth, the taste of each toe, the salty divinity of her. And the feeling of the nails brushing my face as she gives me a playful kick. Then the feeling of the sole of her foot pressed down with steady pressure on my head, demonstrating her supreme power over me. Ah, those feet!
The thought of it is enough to drive me over the edge, to spill my seed as a devout offering to the holy Goddess in all her perfection. And I lick up the come, which she has brought out of me and sanctified into holy ointment. I lick it up greedily and thank the great Goddess for the gift of self pleasure...
Maybe one day I will really be there for her, and her perfect feet.
