Under Her Feet Novels & Stories

Kicking off her shoes, she snared her thumbs beneath the belt of her pants and slid them down her awe-inspiring hips, uncovering coordinating underwear and smooth, adjusted thighs that decreased down to shapely calves and fragile lower legs and feet. Keeping her confront covered up behind her hair, she carefully swam into the pool still wearing her barely-there underwear. He bit his foot lip and grasped the rocks beneath his hands in an endeavor to keep himself in his seat. As she ventured down onto the rough edge, he taken note the huge, broken rankles on the backs of her heels and knew that's why she'd been limping. And she hadn't complained or said a word the whole time. Possibly she was

Broken shoes, unbroken steps. She underlined the words twice, pressing the pencil until the paper tore slightly. Sleep came fitfully. Her dreams carried her back to Umuaka, where she stood barefoot in the village square. The ground was cracked, the elders seated in silence, their eyes heavy with judgment. Mama was there too, her hands folded, her lips pressed shut. Promise lifted one foot and began to walk across the clay. With each step, the ground split, revealing roots, stones, memories. Her shoes appeared and disappeared, breaking apart, re-forming, then vanishing entirely. Yet her feet did not stop.

My head is covered by her umbrella, and she comes dangerously close to stepping on my feet. "And you don't have any shoes on." I respond with a "Nope."

Her flesh started to tense up, caused her to feel the tension in this area. 'This was bad…' She traced herself and was shocked. She was wearing a white nightdress that suits her little body. And gasped when she saw her feet barefoot. It was full of dirt and mud. She can felt a little pain on it, but it's manageable to walk. She walked and suspiciously looking in the surroundings. She doesn't even know why she's here. She hugs herself as she follows the dark-lit pathway full of green crawling plants. Her instinct tells her so, to go in this direction. She thinks that maybe she could find someone out there.

“One of my shoes slid under the bed, and I can’t reach it. My arm just isn’t long enough. I’m going to end up dislocating my shoulder. Can you help?” “Maybe if you get out of the way, I could.” I don’t want her to. She could stay that way all day. I could stand here, stroking my cock while her ass sways from side to side, and her pussy plays peek-a-boo. She backs up, bringing her ass closer, and it’s all I can do not to reach out and take her. “I accidentally kicked it under there when I was walking by.” She snickers, adjusting her tank top as she stands. “If there was a broom around here, I could use that, but we don’t have one.”

On her bare feet, she traipsed down the steps, her body shaking. Every move she made was shaky, but so are mine, so that shouldn’t surprise me. Yet for some reason, it does. My drunken head can barely walk down the stairs. Evelyn’s steady footsteps were ahead of me, and I followed the path down between the trees. Twigs snapped under my feet as I walked toward her. She sat underneath a tree not far from the lake, her hands wrapped around her knees, her shoes right beside her. She seemed cumbersome… like something’s bothering her, but I can’t quite tell what.