Footing fun

She settles on the velvet couch, legs apart, and drags her black heel across Clara's inner thigh. Their bare feet meet between them like thieves swapping favors. One heel presses wet flesh, toes pushing inside until they spread her. The other rests flat, grinding slow circles against a swollen clit, skin sliding warm and slick. Nails gleam. Sweat beads at the arch. Skin glistens, toes flexing deeper each time hips tilt up. The first heel slips free only to reposition, its bare sole now teasing Clara's entrance, rocking against it in lazy thrusts. Moans stay low. The wet sound of feet working bodies is louder. Ankles lock, toes curl and pull, leaving faint red crescents where nails grazed.