An Extreme Foot Job Experience with the Cat Princess
As the rain poured down outside, I nervously sat in the backseat of the car, my heart racing with excitement and anticipation. This was my first time working with the infamous Cat Princess, whose footjobs had become legendary in the world of foot fetishism. I couldn't believe my luck when she'd reached out to me, asking if I was interested in being her next "guinea pig." Of course, I'd jumped at the opportunity, even though I knew what I was getting myself into.
The car pulled up to what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse, and I followed the Cat Princess as she led me inside. The place was dark and damp, with only dim lighting illuminating our path. She guided me into a small room where there was a massage table covered in clean towels. Without saying a word, she instructed me to lie down on the table with my feet hanging off the edge.
I did as I was told, feeling a mixture of fear and arousal as I waited for her next move. She approached the table, her heels clicking against the concrete floor, and without any further warning, she began to work her magic. Her soft, supple hands massaged my feet and calves, sending shivers of pleasure up my spine. But then, she began to slip her fingers between my toes, teasing and tickling my sensitive soles.
Before I knew it, she'd slipped off her heels and was rubbing her bare feet against mine, slowly inching her way up my legs. The feeling of her soft, warm skin against mine was almost too much to bear, and when she finally reached my thighs, I let out a moan of pleasure.
She chuckled darkly, and I could sense her power over me growing stronger with each passing moment. Then, without warning, she placed one of her feet against my crotch, pressing down firmly. I gasped as wave after wave of pleasure shot through my body, and when she added the other foot, I was lost in a haze of ecstasy.
Her feet danced against my sensitive flesh, and I could feel my cock throbbing with anticipation. She worked me over, using her feet to drive me to the brink of orgasm over and over again. Finally, she lifted her feet off my body, and I let out a loud moan, missing the sensation of her feet against my cock.
But then, she surprised me again. She reached into her bag and pulled out a massive pair of stilettos, which she slowly slid onto her feet. The click of the heels against the concrete floor echoed through the room, and I could feel my heart racing once again.
Without warning, she stepped onto the massage table, straddling me with her legs spread wide. She placed one of the heels against my chest, and the other against my crotch, pinning me down. I couldn't believe what was happening, but I couldn't resist the urge to reach up and touch her legs, feeling the soft skin and delicate lace of her stockings.
She leaned down, her breath hot against my ear, and whispered, "Tell me, do you want my feet or my heels?"
I couldn't speak, but I managed to nod, and she smiled cruelly before pressing her heel against my crotch once more. The sensation was intense, and I could feel myself about to cum again. But then, she moved her heel back and forth, teasing me, driving me mad with desire.
Finally, she lifted her heel off my crotch, and I let out a moan of relief, only to be met with another surprise. She reached down and began rubbing her feet against mine again, this time using her heels to grind against my swollen cock. I couldn't take it anymore; I erupted in a massive orgasm, my cum shooting up and hitting the ceiling.
As I lay there, panting heavily, she removed her heels and stood up, dusting off her hands in satisfaction. She turned to leave, but not before looking back over her shoulder and saying, "See you next time, honey."
I couldn't believe what had just happened, but I knew one thing for sure: I would do anything to experience that kind of foot job again.
