Do You Find my Feet Suckable?

There she was, dead center in that empty classroom. I’d shown up early, way earlier than I needed to, but I sure as hell didn’t expect to see her sitting there alone, legs kicked up, waiting for everyone else. I’d spent the first two weeks of the semester staring at her from three rows back without ever opening my mouth, convinced a girl that hot was out of my league. Something about red hair and that face just wrecked me. For a second I thought about backing out, but I forced my feet forward. That’s when I noticed she was barefoot—flip-flops tossed on the floor, soles propped on the desk like she owned the damn room. My heart slammed. Somehow she knew feet were my thing before I even sat down. I dropped into the chair next to hers, barely getting out a hello. She smiled like we were already old friends and asked if I liked her polish. Then, bold as anything, she asked if I liked her feet. Before I could answer she slid one my way and said a massage sounded nice. My hands were shaking, but I wrapped my fingers around her arch anyway. She watched me for a beat, grinned, and hit me with the real question: did I want to suck them? They looked perfect—soft, pink, toes painted bright—so I leaned in and pulled each one between my lips, tongue working slow like I’d been starving for the chance. She kept her feet on the desk. That’s when I caught the view up her skirt: smooth, bare, no panties in sight. My eyes locked on her pussy and she caught me looking. With a little smirk she asked if I wanted it. Class was minutes from starting; students would be walking in any second. The risk shot straight to my cock. I told her we should hit the bathroom before anyone showed. She shook her head, said bathrooms were a no-go, but promised we could sneak off to the library once class ended. That hour dragged like forever. The second the bell rang we were gone. We found a quiet row in the back, shelves high enough to hide most of us but not the chance someone might wander by. She hiked her skirt, spread her legs, and told me to eat her first. I dropped to my knees and buried my tongue in her pussy, tasting how wet the whole scene had made her. After a minute the pull was too strong—I slid down to her feet again, sucking her toes while she played with her own nipples. She stripped her top off and fed me her tits, soft handfuls with hard little nipples, then pushed me back to her soles like she couldn’t decide what she wanted more. Eventually she climbed into my lap and we fucked right there on the floor, her riding me slow so the shelves wouldn’t shake. We swallowed every moan, every grunt, terrified and turned on at the same time. When we finished she just tugged her clothes straight, flashed me one last grin, and strolled out like nothing happened. I stayed on the ground, heart still hammering, trying to believe any of it had been real.