Reading

Della's room was one that I very rarely had any reason to go into. Frankly, I had been afraid to enter in the past. The room was decorated in a lock of blacks and purples. It might be redundant to say it, but the furniture was all gothic. On a regal, dark, reclining chair in the corner, Della sat upright. She was reading some sort of novel, and briefly glanced up to see who entered. When she saw it was me, she lightly smirked.

"Good, it's you." She said. "I'll entertain whatever it is you wanna say after I finish this chapter." She said, shutting me up before I could even begin to speak.

I awkwardly stood there for some minutes, shifting from foot to foot. Without deeply exploring, I looked around Della's room. My eyes were drawn to the wardrobe on the side, as I realized this must have been where she painted her toenails.

Speaking of, Della was barefoot again. Her sexy feet were resting on the ground, showing off the black pedicure. After I felt sufficiently awkward, Della looked up and spoke again. "It's weird for you to just stand there." She began. "Come over here and make yourself useful. Rub my feet."

I briefly thought about it. I had basically just committed to some deeper relationship with Ava, and now I was about to pretty much cheat on her. Everyone at this dorm knew I got hard for feet, so I wouldn't be fooling anyone into thinking I didn't want to rub Della's feet for sexual reasons. So I swear on my life, I was about to refuse to rub Della's feet. I was. But then she looked up at me, and she saw my hesitation. She raised one eyebrow, and casually lifted one of her feet to show me her sole. She held it regally in the air, and before I knew it, I was there holding it up for her. I kneeled there before her seat, taking the foot in hand and beginning to knead it. I hear Della scoff, clearly deriding my attempt at defying her collapsing so weakly. She casually kicked her other leg up onto my shoulder, her foot resting right beside my ear.

I already mentioned this, but Della's feet seemed to be a special kind of sexy. I was just massaging her feet while she casually ignored me, and I was throbbing.

Finally, Della marked her page, closed the book, and looked at me.

"You may speak, but every word must be accompanied with a lick of my sole." She commanded.

In a shroud of arousal at this point, I had no arguments. I dragged my tongue up her salty sole. "My." Again. "Family." Again. "Is." Again. "Visiting." One more time. "Today." I finished.

As I looked up at Della to appraise her reaction, I noticed her biting her lip in arousal. Clearly I wasn't the only one enjoying the licking of her feet.