I roll out my mat, baby—tiny shorts, tight tank, pure white knee-highs cuppin’ every toe. I feel your creepy stare before I even touch my toes. Good. I flex, I point, I scrunch those cotton soles. Half-way through your're jerkin’ through the screen, so I shake my socks in your lens and make you confess: you’re here for the foot tease, not the yoga. I dirty-talk you into a puddle while I stretch and wiggle. Buy it, sock addict, and thank me after you nut in your gym towel. 💎🐽🧦