You belong at the foot of my bed. Down there where I can barely see you. So I can hang my delicious feet off the edge and tease your pathetic self. You are not worthy of putting your grubby hands on my perfect feet. You are not special enough to worship them in the form of kissing, smelling or licking them. You are only allowed to sit at the foot of my bed and look. Lucky enough you get to do that. I find it so funny that you are always denied your fantasy of feet. You must be used to it by now and accept the fact that you will always be the foot loser at the foot of my bed.

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