Victor Varenzo, at My Feet - english version

Description: He couldn’t think of anything else.since our last encounter, victor varenzo had been haunted by my feet. he dreamed of the moment i would allow him to climax on them, to surrender completely under my control.so this sunday, i welcomed him into my attic. the floor was covered in sheets, a massage table stood at the center—an invitation to indulgence. i sat there, legs crossed, feet pressed together, perfectly visible. i saw his eyes immediately fixate on them. he was already mine.he stepped forward, aroused, his desire impossible to hide. i let my fingers brush against his erection through his clothes, feeling him harden instantly. he stared at me, entranced. he knew he wouldn’t last long this time.with a slow motion, i pulled down his pants… but not his boxer briefs. he was surprised. i savored the anticipation in his eyes, his growing impatience. i played with the tight fabric, massaging his strained length before finally sliding my foot under the waistband and lowering it. just enough to brush him with the tip of my toes.a shiver ran through him. his balls twitched from the accidental caress. he didn’t know whether to hold back or surrender completely. helpless, he kept rubbing himself against my thigh, desperately seeking a more intimate touch.then, i rewarded him.i settled more comfortably on the table, placed my feet in front of him, fully exposed, and smiled.-is this what you want?without even answering, he threw himself onto me, immediately pressing his aching length against my bare feet. i let him enjoy the moment, letting him indulge in the fantasy he had been craving for so long. but i am an expert in frustration. i knew exactly when to stop him.breathless, he was on the verge of climaxing. but i stopped him at the last moment. he couldn’t come like this—not dry, not without his body having explored every inch of mine.he understood my message. exhausted, frustrated, he guided himself against my thighs, searching for relief, for solace. i let him rub, let him recover from the orgasm he had just barely escaped. then, i lay back, placing a hand behind my head, exposing my underarm in all its innocence.of course, he immediately leaned into it.his burning shaft pressed against my smooth skin, then trailed down my body, brushing against my bra, then my breast, which i freed with a slow and sensual motion.and then, he couldn’t hold back anymore.i knew it. he wanted to come. he begged me with his eyes, incapable of uttering a single word.i sat up and brought my feet together before him.he stepped closer, eager, exhilarated.i coated my hands in saliva and resumed stroking him, reading every twitch of his length, every nervous pulse silently pleading for me to finally grant him what he craved.i made it last. for a long time. i wanted this moment to be etched into his memory, to make sure he could never forget it.but my arms were growing tired.so, with one final, precise, calculated movement, i pinched the tip of his cock, slowly, controlling the exact instant he would give in.and he exploded.his pleasure shot onto my feet, hot, thick, trickling between my toes. i watched him tremble, his legs barely holding him up, utterly spent.i smiled.and, slowly, with the tips of my fingers, i massaged his release into my skin, savoring my triumph over him.-so, victor… was it everything you fantasized about?mlle ophéline delambre