“I hope that someday, somebody wants to hold you for twenty minutes straight, and that’s all they do. They don’t pull away. They don’t look at your face. They don’t try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms, without an ounce of selfishness in it.” – Waitress.
legs
My body looks a lot like this girl’s body more or less. Especially in the leg region. And there is something stupidly reassuring about seeing your own body in pictures on here.
I have what my boyfriend refers to as tapered thighs. I have really muscular, slim calves and then a donk and a half as far as a butt. As a result, the back of my thighs look more triangular than rectangular, so to speak. Or, at least, they aren’t straight up and down.
And to see a girl with legs like mine all tied up and giving a wicked eyefuck is pretty damn awesome. It’s like stupidly validating that my body isn’t absurd or ridiculous.
Except a certain somebody confirms that mine are more muscular. So there.
Sometimes I get too worked up and noisy and spacey.
And Craftsmate will have to lean down and shush me and murmur something like “easy, girl.”
It’s just about the Daddy-est he gets and it’s good enough for me.
Ivy’s First Trip to a Dungeon, Part Five
Eventually, Craftsmate had me stop walking and hold still while he removed the blindfold, gag, hood and handcuffs. I blushed when I noticed the fact that there were people standing around near us and reached up to nervously wipe some drool from the corner of my mouth. Taking hold once more of the leash, he leaned down and kissed me, saying that he was proud of what I had done. And, truth be told, I was, too.
Beside us was what can be aptly described as a crawlspace with bars on it, essentially a cage dug into the wall. After opening up the door, Craftsmate applied some pressure to my shoulder and had me kneel and crawl inside. Once I was in, he pulled the bolt shut on the door and tied my leash to the bars to prevent me from crawling away from the front of the cage.
“Aw, look at you in there. How cute,” he teased. A couple walked by, both partners casting a glance down into the cage and smirking before continuing on. My cheeks were burning as Craftsmate pulled a chair up by the cage and took a seat. "I like you in there,“ he explained, "I think you’re going to stay in there for a little bit.”
I started to pout, but paused as I looked beyond him and noticed a man securing a woman over a bench. She was practically naked, save for a pair of panties and a collar around her neck. As the man began to flog her, Craftsmate followed my gaze and I could see him grin.
“Were you watching them?” He asked, knowing the answer.
“No,” I replied and turned my head.
He reached down through the bars and grabbed hold of my hair, turning my head. “No, no, I think you should watch him beat her.” He was smiling. “Do you like that?” He asked, patting my cheek. “Do you like the way he’s hurting her?" I tried once more to look away and he pulled my head back to face forward. "Come on, watch them.”
I could have died right on the spot.
Once, I played a game with someone where it was in my interest to hit red lights. Until, of course, his touch grew so distracting that I almost prematurely took my foot off of the gas.
Oops.
Sure, she’s coy now.
Pretty likes it when you beg.
But she likes it best when you deliver.
And she’d better not dream of hopping up on that bed.
Even if it is disheveled,
rules only survive if they are consistent.
All right, so you’ve spoken and I was probably wrong.
While some of you seemed to think he was edging towards a foot fetish, full-on foot fetishdom was never realized. It appears that the deciding factor is whether or not feet absolutely need to be present for the person to get off.
Among the suggestionss, GallifreyanSub made the cute comment that it was more “like a ribbon on a present”. Heart went ahead and suggested “foot enthusiast” instead, which is pretty much almost t-shirt worthy. And, 390nm made the silly point that it seemed more like he had an Ivy fetish.
So, ah, there you have it. Foot fetishes. As diagnosed by the perverts of tumblr.
(via florencio)
So, maybe you all can settle a little debate I’ve got going on with Craftsmate.
He says it’s easier for him to cum when he can see my feet.
I call that a foot fetish.
He says, no, it’s not because it’s not that he needs my feet to get off or he wants to fuck my feet. He just finds my feet cute.
And, as he describes it: “It’s not like I can jack off to just feet. It has to be a holistic visual experience.”
So, we decided to turn it over to you guys. Foot fetish or not?