Feast your eyes on some literary nourishment for the sole – sorry, soul – with KLE Collective member Ivy Grace‘s poem dedicated to high arches. Perfect reading for those who have a weak spot for foot fetish escorts London.
An Ode to High Arches by Ivy Grace
In pursuit of High Arches
The beautifully presented foot. Sensual. Sexy. Alluring.
But, for the purveyor of High Arches,
it is the shape of her foot;
cradled in your hand or
pressed firmly against your face,
that offers that true feeling of peace and light.
A specific ecstasy that follows, the sculptural lines of her foot. From the heel, through the arch, across the ball of her foot and along to her pointed toe.
Smooth or wrinkled, dirty or clean. Her arches are all you want for.
It’s all that you need.
With your lips, your tongue. Murmuring soft words of devotion.
Massaged, manipulated. A swelling deep within.
A lustful desire,
to feel these appendices, soft against your skin.
Barefoot, stocking clad or trapped in shoe.
Perfectly shaped and visually cunt like. Firmly pressed, their outlined curved, cupping your cock or kicking your balls.
Sculpted like her sex. Hollowed like her caven. Knelt before her, wanting, waiting, unworthy.