Touching Base

I must humbly touch base with the touchdown mistress - the base of her muddy cleats, that is!

She approaches me, presumably after a game?
If so, I hope her team won - otherwise she might take out her frustrations on me!

 

Her cleats stop directly in front of my confined and helpless face

Then her right shoe is unceremoniously shoved towards my menial mouth for respect-kissing!
Swiftly followed by her left!
Her sports socks tower ominously over my humble head
Her pretty face is, of course, protected by her face guard. Only mine is fully exposed - to her cleats!


Kissing her cleats was never going to be enough...


...Inevitably, I move on to lickshining them!

It's nothing less than she expects of me!


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