barefoot rhapsody

"I saw him walking barefoot in the street"
was my last poem about the joy of feet.
But then I wrote a footsy fetish sonnet.
You might just find it's got your footprint on it!

Here's a thought.

The balls are a barometer
that measures love's embraces.
The dick is love's thermometer
when stuck in certain places.

But when I rank the body parts
to find the most sublime,
though some may call them shoddy parts,
the feet win every time!

Here's another.

Intense burglar interrogation
by horny police officer (inspired by a scene in a Michel Lucas flic)

He opens his heart and his fly.
I choke on the tool of his love.
He lifts legs and ankles up high
and mounts with a push and a shove.

He sucks on my heel, my big toe,
and drenches my foot with his slobber.
I wonder how any would know
which one is the cop, which the robber.