Socks are indeed sensual. They caress and cradle My soft, tiny feet, nude inside of them. They crawl up My ankles and peep out to tease the boys. The dirt on the bottom really sends the message home that these socks have sensuality: you can see that My feet are alive, walking, living, breathing beneath them. If it were possible, you would exist in the space between My soles, toes, and My cotton socks. Catch the sweat as it travels from My fine skin to My absorbent socks.

Oh, blessed be the man who can press these socks against his face. Honored be the boy who is able to rub one out... Show more