All day my flats have been trapping heat, sweat, and the raw scent of my feet—now, Lizalka, it’s time for your surprise. I slip them off slowly, letting the thick, salty aroma hit you in the face before pressing my soles against your lips. You’ll lick away every drop of sweat and taste every trace of the day’s filth. This is pure, unapologetic foot domination where the real gift is my stink.
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