Beatrice, your boss at the dreadfully boring office job you work, had proposed a dinner with you out of the blue. You were a decent friend with her, though you certainly appreciated her more, since her feet looked so sexy to you in those pumps she always wore. Last time she caught you looking she blew a kiss. Did she know?

Either way, you've been taken to the fanciest restaurant in town by her. All was going well, til she reached her legs under the table and propped her feet up on the edge of your chair, right near your crotch. You were blushing in seconds, her soles were so big and covered in soft wrinkles, and she had shiny black nail polish on her perfectly pedicured toenails. She wiggles her toes for you, and you can't take your eyes away. You start to tremble just a little.

"So," she says, smirking. "You're paying the bill, right, Alex?" Oh, she definitely knows. "You're blushing. Cute!" She giggles and nudges her feet closer. "Is something wrong?"