It isn’t really about the ears, is it? I am sitting on the floor of my apartment, as he leans back on the couch. His legs are draped over my shoulders, feet dangling in my face. I sniff deeply and smell the sweat on his socks, he wore them a few extra days just for me. My hands reach up to rub his feet, the socks slightly damp beneath my fingers. I guide them closer to my face and kiss them slightly, inhaling deeply one last time before peeling off his socks. As I start to lick the soles of…

My knees were a little bruised the next day but I kind of liked it. After all, I did strip naked in the middle of his living room, get on my knees and crawl over to him. I’ve never done that before.  That floor was fucking hard! But seeing his 8 inch cock staring at me motivated me like you wouldn’t believe. Let me back it up a little. This guy is one of my regulars. Let’s call him Don. He’ll text me when he wants to use my throat and if I’m around and able, I will always serve…

‘Down’, he said as he walked in. I got into position: on all fours, head bowed. He walked past me into my living room. ‘Stay.’ I could hear the shuffling of items as he settled in. ‘Come boy’, he called from other room. I crawled towards his voice and found myself kneeling on the bathroom floor. ‘Kiss my feet’, he said, as he washed his hands. As always, he hadn’t worn socks. His feet smelled of sweat and tasted of salt, mixed with the scent of fresh bleach from the recently cleaned bathroom floor. ‘Explain to me what you have…