You don't get my skin. You get my sock. Clean, white, and stretched over the arches you fantasize about. In this JOI, I command you to worship the cotton. Kiss your screen. Sniff where there is no scent. Stroke to the rhythm of my toes and stop on my command. I'll degrade you for getting hard over fabric. Humiliate you for licking your phone. And deny you the release you crave, because a pristine sock is still too good for a footboy like you. Your place is to want. My place is to decide you never get it.
WORSHIP MY WHITE SOCKS
You don't get my skin. You get my sock. Clean, white, and stretched over the arches you fantasize about. In this JOI, I command you to worship the cotton. Kiss your screen. Sniff where there is no scent. Stroke to the rhythm of my toes and stop on my command. I'll degrade you for getting hard over...
You don't get my skin. You get my sock. Clean, white, and stretched over the arches you fantasize about. In this JOI, I command you to worship the cotton. Kiss your screen. Sniff where there is no scent. Stroke to the rhythm of my toes and stop on my command. I'll degrade you for getting hard over fabric. Humiliate you for licking your phone. And deny you the release you crave, because a pristine sock is still too good for a footboy like you. Your place is to want. My place is to decide you never get it.
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