Sole Devotion: A Foot Fetishist’s Ode

A foot fetishist’s love is unique,
For toes and soles, their hearts doth seek,
From dainty arch to delicate heel,
Every inch of the foot, they feel.

The curve of the toe, so soft and round,
Arousing thoughts that do astound,
The scent of feet, so sweet and pure,
A fragrance that they do adore.

Toes that wiggle, and soles that flex,
Every movement, a moment to vex,
But when they touch, the sensation soars,
The foot fetishist, their passion roars.

In dreams they see, the feet they crave,
The gentle touch, they long to save,
A fetish that others may mock,
But to the foot lover, it’s no shock.

For every foot, a story holds,
A tale of beauty, that unfolds,
And for the foot fetishist, it’s clear,
The foot, their love, will always be near.

As I lay beneath your feet so divine
I inhale the scent of sweat so fine
The aroma that fills the air
Is a fragrance that I cannot bear

The musk that lingers on your toes
Is a scent that no one else knows
It draws me in, it makes me weak
It’s the scent of your feet that I seek

I love the way your soles can sweat
And how the moisture on them begets
A smell that’s pungent, ripe, and strong
It’s a scent that’s been with me so long

Your feet are my ultimate desire
Their scent sets my heart and soul on fire
I long to caress them, to kiss and adore
To feel their texture, to smell them more

My love for your feet is true and pure
And nothing else can ever allure
For it’s your toes and soles that I crave
And I’ll love them until I’m in my grave.

As the toes curl and the arches rise,
I yearn to taste the sweat that lies,
On the soles of a woman’s feet,
A fragrance that’s oh so sweet.

With every lick, I feel a rush,
My desires now fully flush,
The saltiness on my tongue,
Drives my senses wild and young.

The musky aroma fills my head,
A scent that’s known to be well-bred,
I savor each and every drop,
As I explore each toe and mop.

The sweat of a woman’s foot,
Is a delicacy I can’t refute,
It’s a flavor that drives me wild,
And leaves me feeling fully beguiled.

He loves to feel her feet upon his face,
As he kneels beneath her in humble grace,
He adores the way she uses him as a footstool,
Placing her soles on his face, he feels so cool.

Her feet mash his facial features with delight,
As he breathes in her scent with all his might,
He feels so lucky to be under her feet,
For her aroma is something he can’t defeat.

He loves the way her sweat drips onto his tongue,
As he licks her feet and feels so young,
He longs for her toes in his mouth,
And savors every second of this footy drouth.

Her feet are his addiction, his kryptonite,
As he lives for the sensation of her feet every night,
He worships her feet like they are divine,
And loves every second, every single line.

We live to love the feet that stand,
So tall, so strong, so grand.
For us, there’s nothing quite so sweet,
As the feel of our faces beneath their gigantic feet.

Our mistresses tower above,
Their soles like mountains we love,
To lay beneath, feeling so small,
Beneath the power of their feet, standing tall.

We worship the ground they tread,
Their footprints on our faces like a bed,
Of pillows soft and sweet,
As we inhale their scent so neat.

Our mistresses reign supreme,
With feet so powerful, we dream,
Of the day they’ll use us as their footstool,
And let us feel the power of their sole.

Oh, to be small, oh to be meek,
To fit between her toes so sleek,
To bask in the warmth of her skin,
And breathe in the scent that lies within.

To feel her weight, so firm and strong,
As she steps on me, all day long,
To be her footrest, her faithful slave,
As she rests her feet, so fine and brave.

To feel her soles, upon my face,
As she crushes me, with her grace,
To be so small, and under her might,
Is a dream that fills me, every night.

To be at her mercy, is all I crave,
As I worship her feet, like a faithful slave,
And though I may be small and weak,
I’ll always be at her feet, so meek.

To be your flip-flops, oh what a dream,
My sole purpose in life, it may seem,
To be the object that you wear,
And feel the weight of you, I’d gladly bear.

I’d mould myself to fit your feet,
And gladly accept my new feat,
To carry you around all day,
And feel the bliss of your soles, all the way.

Your feet would be the only thing I’d see,
As you strutted around, happy and carefree,
And when you take me off at night,
I’d be in heaven, not in fright.

For even though I’d be removed from your feet,
I’d still have the scent, oh so sweet,
And as I lay on the floor,
I’d inhale it all, wanting more.

In conclusion, the foot fetishist’s love for toes and soles
Is a passion that consumes them, heart and soul
From the scent of sweat to the taste of skin
Their obsession with feet is a love they can’t rescind

They long to feel so small under their mistress’s feet
And dream of being between her toes, oh so sweet
To be her footstool, flip-flops, or any other thing
Just to feel her soles on their face, a heavenly fling

Their infatuation with feet may seem strange to some
But to them, it’s a love that can’t be outdone
They live for the touch, the smell, and the taste
For them, the beauty of feet can’t be replaced

So let them bask in their fetish, let them indulge in their joy
For their love of feet, they should not be coy
Let them enjoy every moment, every sensation, every dream
For in the world of foot fetishists, nothing is as it seems.