"When I feel that pretty pussy of yours clenching, I don't want it around my fingers."
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Alison Collins is a young woman who came to San Diego to party. But fate has other plans with her as it lets h...
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Giggling we walk through the door to Chris' hotel room, fooling around like teenagers. Well, maybe that whole prom feeling carried us back to our teen years, even though Chris' lead back a bit longer than mine.
After a delicious and romantic candlelight dinner at our 'prom', Chris and I danced through the night, mostly to slow songs but also to a few pop hits. There was a photo booth and a punch bowl, but much better than the one at my school prom, I think it was because of the vodka. The only thing other than on an original prom was the lack of people, but to be honest I couldn't complain. Altogether you can say that it was a magical evening.
I open the bands of my shoes and step out of them, feeling this strange feeling as my bare feet touch the ground. Taking the first step without the heels I instantly feel how sore my feet are so I steady myself at the couch before I lift one foot to rub the bottom of it.
"You want some wine?" Chris yells from the kitchen.
"Yes, please." I say and when I hear glasses chink I quickly add, "Do you need help, handsome?"
"No, no. I have everything under controll, just sit down."
I drag my tired body around the couch before I plop down on it, massaging my other foot when Chris sits down next to me with two glasses in his hands, handing me one of them.
"Thank you." I state and take a sip of the red wine, the liquid immediately warming my body as I swallow it.
"Do they hurt?" he asks, motioning to my feet.
"A little bit." I admit. "I'm not really used to dance all night with such heels, but I really can't complain. This was one of the best nights in my life."
He smiles as he places his glass on the table infront of us before grabbing both of my feet, resting them on his lap as he starts to massage my sore flesh.
"Don't say that just yet, the night has just started." he says his smile now cocky and I know exactly what he means with that. The thing none of us reached at our prom nights, the reward.
I close my eyes as Chris' thumbs dig into the fleshy pads beneath my toes, massaging downwards the curve of my insole with slow but firm touches, "Mhh."
"Does that feel good?" he asks, continuing his movements.
"Mhm."
After massaging my aching feet for a while I feel his hands slowly making their way up towards my legs.
His fingers are sliding endearingly over the bridge of my feet and when I feel his hands slipping under the fabric of my dress, caressing the skin of my legs I slightly press my tighs together as a soft moan escapes my lips.
