It’s late at night, and the mere fact that this hardworking businesswoman's SHOES and SOCKS will have been on her feet all day fills me
with a sense of slavish pride – pride my feckless, feetslave face is so close
to them!
It’s the closest I ever get to the opposite sex.
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Foolishly proud to be kissing the SHOES and admiring the SOCKS of a late-night customer mistress |
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All I am doing is kissing her feet... |
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...and yet this humble, demeaning act fills me with a sense of slavish pride! |
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Justy being so close to her hardworking SOCK is an honour! |
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A SOCK that will have been on her FOOT, inside her SHOE, all day! |
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I get a good view of the pattern in the STITCHING of the SOCK |
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BOTH SOCKS, indeed, as the wearer gaciously switches FEET several times in front of my feckless face! |
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I stare at the SOCK... |
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...admiringly! |
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And my ugky, feetslave face still betrays a slavish pride as the customer turns to walk away |
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She has not spoken to me, but this is the closest I ever get to intimacy with the opposite sex! |
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SHE, of course, is the one entitled to feel PROUD about herself! |
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Her NATURAL PRIDE is not related to her proximity to someone else's SOCK... |
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...unlike my FEETSLAVISH PRIDE! |