"Chapter 6"
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I hoped the urges to worship my mother's feet would wane, but as my father's return date neared, my desires only grew. Over the next few days, I'd constantly catch myself envisioning scenarios where I'd cum on my mom's soft, unsuspecting soles. Each daydream was more ridiculous than the last, but my mind didn't care -- it continued conjuring fantasy after fantasy, all ending with the exact same result.
As much as I enjoyed the fantasies, none of them compared to the reality of that magical night. I soon realized the events of that evening had become a two-headed monster -- both a gift, and a curse. While I had partaken in an experience I would treasure forever, I also had birthed a thirst I felt required to quench. I couldn't prevent the imagery from consuming my mind, each moment building toward an apex of incomprehensible bliss...
The half-empty bottle of Nyquil.
Her limp, relaxed soles.
The television's muted glow.
Her open-mouth snores.
The grazing of my pen.
The scrunching of her toes.
My lack of self- control.
The grazing and sniffing and licking and sucking...
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Three days had passed but her feet continued to taunt me. I did what I could to ignore them, but they were relentless. I needed to have them. Just one last time. "That's all it would take," I told myself. If I could have them "just one last time", everything would be okay. Having them "just one last time" would provide enough memories for an eternity. I gulped as my mind continued to race. So many possibilities, and so little time...
"...one last time," my brain repeated over and over.
"Just one last time."
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It was Thursday afternoon and my father's flight was scheduled to arrive the following morning. If I was going to make a move, it was now or never. After careful consideration, I settled on a plan. This particular plan would allow me to back out at any given moment. If things got hairy, I'd walk away. If things went smoothly, I'd continue forward. And if I pussied out altogether, the excitement spent brainstorming the plan would be a small consolation of its own. A true "win-win".
I took a deep breath and headed downstairs to find my mother watching TV in the living room. She was wearing a shaggy sweater, black yoga pants, and thick, white wool socks.
"Hey," I smiled, trying not to startle her.
