South Indian Foot Fetish

Don’t get dressed.As I read it, I was filled with both excitement and apprehension. The last part had sparked my interest, but I also knew from yesterday’s experiences that there would be consequences for my actions. Not wanting to disobey again, yet covered in the remains from the previous day and night's activities, I decided to take a morning dip and wash off in the pond. Like before the cool water over my nakedness felt amazing and freeing. As I floated there soaking in the early morning sun, I saw John appear in the opening out of the corner of my eye. He was carrying a backpack and a duffle bag.“Morning,” I said as I stood up, my semi-hard cock a few inches about the water. “Good morning Chris. Come up here for me will you,” he motioned.I waded out of the water and over to him as instructed.“Are you mad at me sir,” I asked tentatively.“No, I’m not mad, but as an adult now it’s very important that when you agree to something you keep your word. That being said, mistakes do. She asked him all sorts of questions about what it was like to be a professor, such as how he came up with examination questions, and what kind of students he liked and disliked the most. She was curious about how he built a test, and decided what elements a student's grade would be based on. On another day she gave him a discourse on what it was like to help a cow give birth, and all the things one had to think about during that process. He never knew what she'd talk about next. But it was always entertaining.It was this casual, easy-going, every-day level of conversation that ambushed him one day. She had arrived frowning (and braless), and sat down to get to work immediately, without any of the usual banter that characterized her arrival."What's wrong?" he asked, after about ten minutes. He was mildly astonished that he knew her well enough to sense something was bothering her, and was bold enough to ask about it."Oh, I got into a 'discussion' with the grad student that teaches my.
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