Rendezvous

I have been looking for a fine woman for a couple of years,
a beautiful girl, one that doesn't grind my gears.

So I make an account, join a dating site,
there are pics of ladies consisting of bits & bytes.

The bigger the choice, the harder it is to choose,
reading hundreds of personal data, I am about to snooze.

Suddenly I am wide awake, my interest is piqued,
I have stumbled upon a fetish icon with gorgeous feet.

Name is Mrs. Sandman, like the fey creature which puts people to sleep,
I stare intently at her data, almost like a creep.

She is still available, my pulse quickens with joy,
she is looking for company, in need of a new toy.

I send an e-mail, anxiously awaiting her response,
her hobby is collecting art, especially from the renaissance.

Next day she is answering, stating she is all game,
these news are great, I am totally aflame.

She already picked the time & location, a hotel room somewhere in Miami,
I am standing later in front of the building, my hands are really clammy.

My choice of dress is a tuxedo with a red rose in hand,
climbing the stairs to the room, so far everything went as planned.

The door to the suite is already open, beckoning my arrival,
I enter the room at once, it would be foolish to be idle.

A pair of sexy high-heels are on the floor beside a coat,
worn tan stockings are stuffed into them along with a note.

I kneel on the floor, in order to read,
as soon as I do, my heart skips a beat.

I am totally perplexed, the parchment is obviously wet,
stuck in her stockings, it marinated there in her delicious foot sweat.

Intoxicating fumes enter my nostrils, invade my brain,
this kind of sexy aroma has always been my bane.

Designed by nature with the purpose to seduce males,
the compound is so potent that it would even affect whales.

I begin to sniff her nylons, cast rose & note aside,
the first whiff made me high, my defiance just died.

No resistance on my part, I grovel on the floor,
inhaling deeper and deeper her scent while staying on all four.

I hear her footsteps, barely audible to my warped senses,
her sexual pheromones were responsible for lowering my defenses.

She puts her pedicured foot on my neck, applies pressure,
my whole face is plunged into her smelly shoe just for good measure.

Mrs. Sandman chastises my weakness, my love for female feet,
I am unable to retort, acting the whole time like a dog in heat.

She thrives on my humiliation, each word of hers a barb to my ego,
my cheeks redden with shame, she is as evil as this teen toon Shego.

Temptress laughs aloud, rubs her foot on my cheek,
tears run down my face, her sole does truly reek.

“You will be addicted to my sweet stink for the rest of your life”,
her insults really hurt, they cut deep as a knife.

Suddenly my crotch begins to twitch, I never had a chance,
to prevent the embarrassment of completely soiling my pants.

Amused, she turns me around and smothers my face with her stinky feet,
while taking pics of me, the wet spot on my trouser a testament of my defeat.

Since the day in the hotel, she blackmails me every week,
I have to follow her commands or else my future will be bleak.

Now we always meet in public places, a capacity crowd awaits,
kneeling in front of her makes her happy, my pride usually in dire straits.

My mistress grabs my hands with glee and thrusts her feet into my mug,

I wouldn't have it any other way, she is the embodiment of my luck.