‘Ow, my ankle.’ ‘You must have twisted it when you fell. Let me help.’ Giuseppe supported her by one hand on her elbow and put his other arm...around her supple waist, leading her over to sit on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the square. Even through the thick folds of her gown and chemise, he could feel the gentle curves of her young body. This was better than he had hoped. He eased her down on the fountain’s wide edge and kneeled at her feet. By this time, the chaperone was back. I told her that I had some, but I refused to tell her which ones. She immediately guessed that I had a foot fetish, but didn't provide any evidence or accuse me of liking her feet. I denied it and she didn't pursue the matter any further.The first time I ever masturbated was when I was 12. I had numerous wet dreams about my sister's feet before that, but I always had the paranoid fear that someone would somehow magically know that I did something wrong. One day, the urge was just too strong.. More

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