Titty Pink Socks

©2004 Elizabeth L. Clark

Odd how you notice silly little things. No matter what she wore, she always had on these titty pink socks. They were soft and fuzzy looking and seemed a weird item of clothing for a grown woman to wear.

I noticed them the first time I saw her. I told her I thought they were cute and she graced me with a smile. By the end of the night, I knew that other parts of her were pink too.

Making love with her was a slow, easy sensation. The feel of those pink socks on my shoulders as I drank from her pulsing wetness was oddly erotic. She rubbed them over my skin as I lapped hungrily at her, suckling her throbbing button eagerly. They felt even more so when I plunged my strap on into her, making her scream in pleasure.

She only took them off when she showered and she never allowed me to shower with her. Curiosity got the better of me and I peeked one day. I wish I hadn't.

Her lush body came into view first, breasts firm and tipped with rosy nipples as big as the tip of my thumb. Flat belly leading to the sweet valley between her legs. Long legs, strong and sexy.

Then there they were. Her feet. scarred, ugly things. They looked like they had been dipped in acid. I must have gasped because she turned and looked at me. She began to weep and before I could think she was dressed and gone.

Now I spend my nights making love to her in my dreams, my fingers stroking my own body as I cry out her name. My days are spent looking at women's feet... searching for a pair of titty pink socks.