I know you have a particular obsession with my feet. You don’t hide it very well. I know your fantasy is to crawl beneath my desk and spend all day with my sweaty toes. Luckily for you, you can do just that. I’ve shoved you beneath my desk with my feet in black, close toes, pointy heels. I’ve been wearing them all day and even before I take them off you can smell the sweat brewing in those soles. One by one, the shoes fall off and you can see the graceful arch of my soles and the perfect shape of my toenails. Maybe if you’re a good boy, I’ll let you press my feet against your face and you can drown in the scent of them.