feet – Page 3

Morning fog.

Because I’ve got an app now that lets me watermark photos so I don’t even need to put them on my computer.

And because I promise I’m not letting my crazy ruin an amazing evening.

And because this might be my favorite (dirty) photo of us.

I think my aesthetic sometimes hovers between trashy and sweet.

I spent most of yesterday collared and plugged.

It was a good day.

Wet hair.

Halfway There, Part Nine

When the food was done, Macy walked into the living room with her plate and took a seat on the couch. “Make sure you put your feet up on Ivy,” Flint said, which was in theory hot, but Macy has the coldest feet I have ever encountered. As in, do you have a circulatory system?-level cold. I groaned, but it wasn’t so uncomfortable that I was going to make it stop.

Lida’s feet soon joined hers and the three ate, talking and mostly not acknowledging my presence on the floor until I asked to be untied when my legs were starting to lose circulation a bit from being folded up for so long. They let me out, taking a bit to admire the rope marks on my skin while I stretched out.

We sat and watched television for a while, letting ourselves relax before the start of the inevitable round two.

The other night Sir threw a party and some of us got to discussing what the ugliest body part was. We’d agreed upon knees (sorry, knees) until someone interjected that she thought feet were actually grosser than knees.

And Sir, looking as if someone had personally insulted his taste, blurts out, “no! Feet are beautiful and delicious.”

And I just kind of looked at him like baaaabe. Rein it in.