The Fitness Instructor: Interactive Yoga 🧘🏼‍♀️👣😈
(Part 2)

We spent that intro session together pretty much covering ZERO "intro" didn't we? (Unless you count that very in-depth introduction of your foot fetish... THAT we covered enough of to teach a class as Harvard!!! 🤣)

... Yep 😈

Just me completely throwing caution to the wind and wrecking you with your own foot fetish! And you... A complete horny, helpless haze of a mess, quite impressively getting to the point where you're almost begging me (practically still a stranger when you think about it btw 😜) to sniff, kiss, lick, suck and worship my feet!!

Thinking back, I was downright fucking evil about it, so I guess the blame can't be ALL yours...

"I guess these stirrup leggings must be SUPER mean hey? Hiding just enough of those cute, creamy wrinkles painted all over my arches? Trailing from my plump heels like an orgasmic river as they dip into the deep valley's of my soft, high arches...?"

"Or maybe these naughty little straps are just making my arches pop all that much more?! Kissing and hugging right into the centre of them just enough to make them ripple around the edges just for you?"

I finished my thought before you could wipe the drool from your face and speak "Don't worry hun, I'll just switch them back and forth and test both theories!" 😉

With that, I began to free my arches from the now warm floral-vanilla-coconut smelling straps, sometimes showing off both bare soles completely, sometimes keeping one on and one off, and sometimes sliding them both back on with a warm "snap!" that made your dick question if it was gonna breakdown!

Always alternating the dance of straps as I moved about, posing my feet before you, my devious questions and intrigued, seductive tone bringing your whole being to a legit state of 'Short-circuiting!'

I allow you to eye fuck my soles in full, utilizing my cork blocks as a pedestal for my soft, pink perfection, before I suddenly stand up and step closer—slow, deliberate—until I’m standing at the edge of your mat. Close enough now that you can smell that faint coconut-vanilla lotion I rubbed into my soles this morning!!

I don’t say anything at first. I just lift one foot off the mat… slowly… and hover it a few inches from your chest. Not touching. Never touching. Just letting the warm, plump underside dangle there in your line of sight.

My high arch curves like a perfect bow, the skin soft and pink from the warmth of the room, deep wrinkles fanning out from the centre whenever I flex my toes. I point them hard… then relax… letting the creases form and smooth out right in front of your face. You can see every tiny detail... The little dimples under the ball, the cushiony padding at the heel, the way my arch stays so dramatically lifted even when I’m not trying.

"Mmm… you like that view, don’t you?” I murmur, voice low and sultry. “I can tell. Your pupils are huge. And look…” 👇🏻 I tilt my head down, eyes flicking to the obvious, straining bulge in your pants. “Poor thing. Already so hard it must hurt."

I lower my foot again, but only so I can cross one ankle over the opposite knee while standing, balancing easily, like it’s nothing. Now my sole is turned directly toward you, presented like a gift you’re not allowed to unwrap. I wiggle my toes slowly, deliberately, letting the wrinkles ripple and deepen with each little curl. The plump flesh jiggles just the tiniest bit when I spread them wide, then scrunch them tight again.

“You’re dying to bury your nose right here, aren’t you?” I trace one fingertip along the highest curve of my arch—slow, teasing circles—drawing your gaze exactly where I want it. “Right in that soft, wrinkled dip? You wanna press your face against it don't ya? Inhale deep, feel how warm and smooth it is after I’ve been walking around barefoot in my house all morning…” 😏

I let my foot drop back to your mat with a soft slap, then immediately lift the other one, mirroring the pose. This time I bring it even closer... Close enough that if you leaned forward even an inch, your lips would brush the ball of my foot!! 🥹😵🥴

But I know you won’t. Not without permission. And I’m not giving it...

“Oh fuck no. Not yet. Not even CLOSE.” I purr, reading your mind. “You don’t get to taste. You don’t even get to sniff. You just get to look… and suffer.”

I start rocking my weight from heel to toe on the standing foot, making the hovering sole flex and wrinkle over and over... Slow, captivating, relentless. Every time the arch pops high, the light catches the faint sheen of lotion still clinging to the creases. I can see your hands twitching at your sides, knuckles white. Your cock is throbbing so visibly against your pants now I almost feel sorry for you!

Almost.

I lower that foot again, but this time I turn sideways, giving you the perfect side-profile view of both soles as I shift into a casual little hip-cocked stance. One foot flat, the other up on the ball—arch stretched long and taut, wrinkles pulled smooth for a heartbeat before I relax it and let them crumple back into deep, sexy folds.

“See how soft they are?” I whisper, running my fingers under the arch again, lifting the skin just enough to show you the plush give. “So plump… so wrinkled when I curl my toes like this…” I demonstrate: Slow scrunch, slow point. Over and over. “Bet you’d give anything to drag your tongue right along that centre crease there? Feel every little ridge? Suck on my heel until it’s shiny with your love…” 🫦

I laugh softly at the delicious noise you make in your throat.

"Here’s the deal hun...” I step even closer still! Both feet planted again, but I lift one heel so only the ball and toes touch the mat, allowing my sole to wrinkle dramatically right at eye level. “If you can actually manage to behave yourself… focus during our real lessons… stop drooling over my feet for five whole minutes at a time… maybe—just maybe... I’ll think about letting you get a little closer one day.”

I drag the pad of my big toe slowly along the edge of your mat, inches from your knee... “But I’m not going to make it easy.” My voice drops to a wicked whisper. “Because I like watching you squirm. I like seeing how red your cheeks get, how hard you get, how badly you want to drop to your knees and beg to worship these pretty, soft, wrinkled soles… and how you can’t. Not yet.” 😌

I sink down gracefully back to my mat, facing you, and resume your sole-tease-face fucking - Flowing from one teasing position to another while I talk... Flexing, posing, teasing and stretching until I lift my soles to the air, cupping my arches as if they were made to hold that hard, desperate cock that's about to burst from your shorts!

My soles presented full-on now...
Side by side..
Arches high and proud...
Toes spreading like they’re waving hello...

“Go ahead,” I say in humour, tilting my head. “Stare all you want. Memorize every crease. But no touching. No kissing. No licking. No sniffing. Just… ache for it.” I flex both feet hard! Arches popping, wrinkles deepening! Then point my toes until the soles smooth out into perfect, taut curves… then relax again, letting the plush softness return in full, devastating detail!!

“Lesson’s not over yet, hun…” I smile, slow and cheeky. “And neither is the teasing.”

xoxo
-Gwen 💋