Beth's Shin, Socks, Feet Domination Ch. 02

"You may cum now, Michael," she groaned. "Cum for Mother. Come IN Mother!"

He'd had great orgasms in his life, some better than others, none of them bed. As his balls emptied, this one instantly was off-the-charts good, the best, and he thought and wished it would never end. He howled, holding her hips, holding himself deep inside her, his balls emptying in a seemingly endless series of roping jets of cum that scorched Beth's twitching bowels. She smiled into the mattress as she felt his entire body tremble, his soul lost to the experience of her. When he finally stopped, he gasped, realizing he hadn't breathed the entire time.

"Pull out slowly," she ordered, coming up to her hands, pulling forward and feeling his wet cock slither out. "Wipe on Mother's socks."

He obeyed, slowly, watching his cock pop free, wet and white. He bent at the knees, dragging the sensitive head along Beth's socked soles, wiping himself clean. He stood, watching. Beth kneeled upright, spreading her cheeks in her hands. Instantly, a torrent of cum gushed from her hairy chasm, splashing wetly on the soles of her feet folded beneath her, a river of cream that soaked the black socks white. She squatted back, pressing her leaking pussy to them, releasing more sticky cum.

"On the floor, Michael," she said, pointing.

"Yes, Mother," he sighed, lying on his back.

She sat on the edge of the bed, dangling her cum-soaked socks over his face, then lowering them. He knew his place and obeyed, reluctantly at first, the creamy texture and bleachy taste startling him, but then with mounting enthusiasm as she pressed the gooey socks harder to him. He reached up, cupping her flexing muscular calves, kneading the flesh, lapping madly at her soles, ingesting his cum and then sucking the fabric clean. She smiled, curling her toes and pointing at his mouth. He opened wide and took them in, sucking the cream, devouring it and it's heady mix of cum and foot funk. For five minutes he slavishly cleaned her filthy socks until she was satisfied and pulled her feet from her mouth.

"Well now, that was interesting," she said, walking away to the dresser to pour herself another glass of wine, offering him none.

He watched her creamy, wrinkly ass jiggle as she walked, and from her crotch a thin sliver of cum escape to coat her flexing hamstrings. She turned to face him, leaning on the dresser, sipping her wine. He waited for her to speak. She said nothing, so he slowly gathered her clothes and brought them to her. She remained silent as he dressed her, pulling on the thong, the pants, clipping her bra in place over her majestic tits, buttoning her blouse and pulling on her jacket. He knelt, inhaling each shoe before slipping it over the wet socks.

He stepped back, cock hard. He smiled and looked at it.

"Perhaps," she said. "Tomorrow, what do you have tomorrow?"

"Business meetings," he shrugged. "Then I have to speak, something about young blood in an old industry, why I chose my company to work at, blah blah blah. But the president of the company will be there, from what I heard, so I guess I gotta make a good impression and try not to bore him."

Her eyes widened.

"What?" he asked.

She walked slowly to him, pulling him close with one arm, lips brushing his.

"Try not to bore her, Michael," she corrected, licking his cheeks, tasting his cum drying there. "Try not to bore her. Your. Mother."

"WHAT!" he cried out, mouth open. "It's...you mean...."

She laughed darkly, turning to walk to the door, playfully pulling up her pant legs, flashing her muscular calves and filthy socks at him.

"I'll be in the front row, Michael," she said. "With my legs crossed. And I will be wearing these socks!"

And she was gone. Michael slumped to the bed in disbelief. His cock hardened all the more.