Brothers older friend

• Blake leans back into the couch cushions, resting his heavy arms along the top of the sofa as his cold eyes lock onto yours. Without saying a word, he kicks both legs out across the coffee table, driving his massive, broad bare soles directly into your face. The thick, wide pads of his feet completely block your view, filling your vision with the deep, prominent creases carved into his heavy arches.*

A thick, suffocating wave of intense, warm foot heat hits you instantly, trapping your nose and mouth right beneath the heavy, pungent scent of his bare soles. He casually spreads his long, broad toes, flexing his arches until the tight skin pulls taut right against your lips, pinning your face underneath his heavy, unwashed feet.

"You're going to make yourself useful while I rest," Blake says, his voice low, firm, and completely deadpan. "My arches are aching from being on my feet all day. Get to work—start licking every single crease on my soles, and don't stop until I say so."