Privacy

In the privacy of a footoire cubicle a girl can lock the door behind her, relax, and have her boots kissed by a humble head to her heart’s content, without the intrusion of prying eyes.

Unless, of course, those prying eyes choose to look beneath the cubicle door!


































Just ponder for a moment, if you will, what a young woman is saying when she enters your footoire cubicle and presents her booted foot to you for kissing.

She is, in effect, saying that she is better than you; that you must show her respect by kissing the lowliest part of her body – her foot; and even then, not her actual foot, but the outer boot covering her foot. Even her inner footwear – her sock – is too good for you to touch, though she makes damn sure you catch a glimpse of it as you obediently lower your lips to her bootleather.

And then, when you have sufficiently abased yourself before her, she walks casually away from you – quite literally turning her back on you and showing you a dirty pair of heels. For she despises you. She’s off to find a real man – a man she can respect; a man who will not grovel at her feet, and who can provide her with sexual gratification; a better man than you.

In her eyes, you really are an impotent, footoire fool!

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