Feet

I ladies and gentlemen...have a problem. I know, I know. I shouldn't have this problem but I do. I don't want to even tell you because...well because of what you might think of me...but I must. I've been told by doctors that it's just a fetish. I've been to by whores that it'll cost five hundred dollars more. I've even been told that I'm going to hell because of it. See...I can't seem to stop licking the bottoms of my feet. I know, I know. I find it disgusting as well...but I can't help it. There's nothing like feeling a slick tongue on the balls of your feet or the mixing taste of cotton, fungus, and bird dung on your heel. It's even more exilerating when you remember that it's your own togue squirming, lubricating, and tasting every sickly disgusting piece of you lowest extremity. God even talking about it makes me want it more. I want to stop so badly...but yet I don't think I can. I know, I know. Your saying that I should be shot for disgracing my toes so. I say that I should be commended for coming forward about the dishonoring of my feet. Is it so bad that I love to take care of them? What do you do for you feet at the end of the day? Let me guess. You put them in some slippers? Maybe a loved one massages them? I bet you don't do anything for you feet. You just go to bed with them aching. You say shame on me...I say shame on you. At least I take care of my feet. I know, I know. I have some problems...but then again. Who doesn't. I think I'll start on my way to recovery by washing my feet...I swear I'll do it by taking a shower this time not by the way of my vile tongue. Oh how I will miss my tongue lashings.