He kept me on read for a week.
I sent the first message on a Tuesday. Something casual, like I hadn't been thinking about it for weeks before I typed it. He didn't respond. I sent another one Thursday, less casual. Nothing. By Sunday I'd stopped pretending the waiting was fine and just asked plainly, the way he'd told me to ask. Still nothing.
Then yesterday, one line. Free this afternoon if you want to come by.
I told my manager I felt sick and left.
He opened the door in grey shorts and nothing else.
He stepped back. I walked in.
No smile. No good to see you.
"Hey Mitch. How are you doing?"
He was already walking to the dining table. He sat, leaned back, and put his feet up on the surface between us. Arms behind his head.
"Let's get this over with. Get your shrimp out and stand over there."
He pointed to other side of the table, facing his soles.
I stood where he pointed.
I undid my jeans and pushed them down.
He hadn't looked at me since he sat down. Eyes on his phone, feet crossed at the ankle on the table between us. Like I wasn't there yet.
I'd been fully hard since he replied.
He glanced up, down, back to his phone. Almost a smile.
"Yeah, that tracks."
I didn't say anything.
His feet were right there. I knew them. The shape of them, the weight, the way the arch curved. I'd thought about them more than his face over the past year.
I took a step closer. He didn't stop me.
He'd let me do this twice since we broke up. He knew what I was when he ended it, knew I'd come back for this specifically. So every few months, after enough begging, he'd send that one line and I'd come over. Third time now. It had never once felt like enough.
I got on my knees. Started at his heels. Kissed my way up slowly.
His sole was warm. I licked it heel to toe, slow, making sure I got every inch. Then his toes, one by one. I took my time. I had nothing else.
I was already leaking while I played with my cock.
He still hadn't looked at me.
"You're so fucking easy."
I didn't stop.
He had a word for my cock. A few, actually, shrimp, dicklet, tiny thing, depending on his mood. That's why he never let me top him. Not once, not even when I begged. 'You don't bottom for a shrimp'. He'd said that too, exactly like that, and I'd never forgotten it.
After around half an hour I was getting close.
"You're gonna cum already aren't you."
"Yes"
"Figured. Go on then."
I pressed my face on his soles while I licked them making my way up again to his toes.
I came on his floor with his toes in my mouth, letting out a soft moan.
"Did you cum?"
"Yes."
"You know what to do."
I bent down and licked my mess off the floor.
"Crawl over here."
I did. I crawled across his floor and stopped at his feet.
He lifted them off the table and planted them either side of me. Rotated the chair. Legs apart, relaxed. The grey shorts had shifted enough that I could see the outline of his cock through the fabric.
I already knew what I was there for.
He slid his hand into my hair and pressed my face into his crotch and held it there.
I breathed him in.
"Look at you."
He let go. Put both hands behind his head.
"Suck it."
I hooked my fingers into the waistband and pulled his shorts down slowly. He lifted his hips just enough to let me.
I took him in my mouth.
At some point his hand came back to my hair. Then he gripped it, twisted my head up.
He held the phone in front of my face.
Two photos. The first of me sucking his toes. The second of me sucking his cock. Two replies underneath.
'lmaoo'
'he's so pathetic babe 😭'
He watched me read it for a moment. Smirk on his face. Then he pushed my head back down.
"Doesn't have to beg for it like you do."
He twisted my head back down and fucked my mouth for a few minutes. He then gripped my hair again and pushed me back.
I sat on my knees and watched.
He then jerked off with his hand, eyes on the ceiling. I stayed where he'd put me and didn't move. Didn't touch myself. Just watched him do what I hadn't been good enough to finish.
He came on his own stomach. Some on the floor.
He didn't look at me.
He reached for a shirt off the back of the chair and wiped himself down.
"You good to see yourself out?"
I stood up. Pulled my jeans back up. My legs were stiff.
He was already back on his phone.
I closed the door behind me.
In a few months I'd try my luck again.
