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By the time Sin recovered, the day had already well progressed past the afternoon. I watched as she sat up from the bed. She gazed into the distance for a while before getting up to take a shower. I followed suit, got dressed and waited for her on the bed. Minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom naked with no more than a towel draped around her shoulders. She dried herself, put on her garments, and sat next to me.

Not once had she uttered a word to me, nor did I reach out to her.

It was understandable why she didn’t want to talk to me.

The least I could do was cheer her up.

I turned on the TV again. I already knew what the time was; the silence was just too excruciating.

I let the anchors run their mouths for a while as I watched. Sin kept an emotionless squint towards the wall in front of her.

I kept my eye on the screen, “Brunch?”

She didn’t answer.

I turned off the TV, “Let’s go.”

We had brunch at a diner not far from the hotel we stayed in. We walked there, with Sin following me from behind. She stayed silent throughout the journey.

We caught a seat right at the cusp of the lunch rush. We sat at the far corner where our privacy was secured, away from the crowd and the windows. I had my back turned against the other patrons, and all I could see was Sin’s unchanging expression.

A waitress came; a feline beastkin in a uniform shirt and an apron dress. She came over and asked for our order. Sin was tight-lipped throughout the whole ordeal. I sighed and ordered a big helping of syrup-drenched pancakes with a tall glass of strawberry milkshake on the side for her. I went with the cheapest sandwich on the menu and a bottomless cup of coffee. The waitress nodded with a smile and walked off.

She still wouldn’t talk to me.

The atmosphere didn’t feel awkward; we were perfectly capable of sharing mutual silence, though the air was far from comfortable either. What hung over our little bubble at the corner of the diner was guilt.

I might’ve gone a tad bit too far back in the hotel room.

I couldn’t find the words to rectify my actions. I didn’t have the right, and even if I did my conscience wouldn’t be able to swallow it. The choice was laid entirely on Sin’s authority, though I’d be lying if I said the wait for her decision was nerve-racking.

The beastkin waitress from before returned after a few minutes. She came with our beverages and left with an empty tray and a smiling nod. I took a small sip from my steaming coffee mug. Sin took a long look at her tall, sparkling milkshake. She toyed with the stirrer, dragging a few swirls around the pink, foaming surface before pushing the glass aside. She rested her head against her hand as she gazed straight through me and onto the other patrons sitting behind me.

A few more minutes later, the same beastkin waitress came back to our table once more with our complete order. Sin received her tower of soft, fluffy pancakes, drenched in thick, flowing syrup with a small dollop of melting butter propped atop the stack. I got my plate of canned-tuna spread sandwiches. I grabbed the nearest piece, ready to take a hefty bite off its side. I glanced towards Sin to see how she was doing. She took no more than a furtive peek at her plate before pushing it towards my side of the table, dropping her head onto the table, staring to the side.

I sighed and put down my sandwich, “I’m sorry, Sin.”

She didn’t respond, but she did flash her pupils in my direction.

“I’ll pay for this meal,” I pushed my plate aside, “And for dinner too.”

She finally spoke, “You’re supposed to be paying in the first place.”

“I’ll let you eat expensive stuff. I won’t complain.”

She lifted her head, “I want to go to a buffet.”

“Deal,” I pushed Sin’s pancake back to her side of the table, “Anything else?”

She drew a finger up to the ceiling, “One more thing.”

“Anything.”

She then drew her finger down, “Cum for me.”

I was thrown off for a second. I wasn’t sure if I heard what she said right.

“Repeat that for me?”

Sin repeated what she said, but not in words.

I felt something sneak up to my calves, soft and warm. It caught me off guard, sending sharp chills up my spine. It slithered its way up to my thighs and reached itself towards my crotch. By the time I found out what it was, Sin’s foot had already undone my zip and tugged my underwear down.

Right there, under the table in a corner of a diner just as the lunch rush was dying down, my genitals shot out of my pants, flopping down onto the chair.

I shot a look of disbelief towards Sin, only to catch a defiant gaze back from her as she pulled her milkshake to her mouth for a nonchalant sip.

From that point, I knew I was stuck on the ride to the end. I could protest aloud, but that would garner attention, and I wasn’t in the particular mood to show the public my cock and balls.

Thus, I could only sit in silence while Sin worked her feet. To my detriment, the woman had decided to wear her thinnest short socks, which meant my dick was more or less under direct contact with her soles. That was probably for the best, however, as Sin had promised no mercy until I ejaculated.

I sucked it up and decided to ride the wave out. To avoid suspicion, I drew my plate back and picked up my sandwich, blending in with the dining crowd. Lucky for us, our table was low with the legs packed quite tight against one another. My thighs were stuffed together in discomfort but they served to be great curtains to hide the action going on between them. I just had to keep my body still, calm, and cum as soon as I could.

Sin stuffed both her feet in between my thighs and began stroking my cock between her toes. I was still a little sensitive from that morning. I was rock solid in no time. Her soles were soft, and with the added texture from her socks, warm and tight. She ran my skin down and pushed my cock’s head out of hiding. With one foot, she stuffed the base of my dick between her toes and rubbed its length with the other. She brushed her toes against the skin, rubbing my shaft up to the middle and back down to the base. Her strokes went by a quick rhythm and yet, she moved ever so gently. I could feel her body heat radiating from her socks, adding fuel to the fire.

Her techniques didn’t belong to that of a first-timer. Her feet had the dexterity and control of a bona fide athlete and yet, she was as delicate as a feather’s brush. She was careful not to graze my skin, or crush my cock down to its testicles. If anything, it felt just as controlled as a pair of hands, maybe even an actual cunt if she kept this on.

I was barely hanging on. I tried my level best to keep a straight face, but every once in a while a huff of pleasure would leak out of my mouth. I tried combatting it by stuffing the sandwiches in my mouth, but all that did was make it harder for me to breathe. I chewed through the bread and swallowed it with great difficulty; any wrong move and I’d be choking my way to sexual nirvana.

Sin was absolutely cool. She ate through her pancakes and sipped her milkshake without any interruptions as if she was just on a cute, innocent date with another guy. By all accounts, she definitely seemed like she was, but the truth was far from such. This was the fruition for her trained legs; there was barely a tremor or a shudder coming from the woman. Not one look on her face or body indicated that she was giving a professional, covert public footjob underneath the table. The best I could do was hold my voice with more sandwiches and down it with more coffee.

By the time I finished my plate, I was close to climaxing. I retained my cool, held my coffee mug and took a long swig. I can feel my shaft swelling as Sin kept on rubbing the balls of her soles against my cock. She flicked my dick from its base a couple of times, slinging my pre-cum across my pants and underneath the table as my semen surged from within. The stimulation rocketed from there. I emptied my coffee mug in gulps, fighting the urge to shoot a physical reaction. I could feel it coming, and Sin could sense it too. I was ready for it to be over.

Sin didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, however.

Suddenly, she released my cock from her toes. My stud was left standing in its lone salute, perching over my unzipped pants. Sin hadn’t pulled her feet out from my thighs, but she didn't seem interested in seeing the job to the end either. The result was more painful than anything she’d previously administered. I was at full mast; just shy of a half-ounce worth of pressure from blowing away, and the woman in charge simply upped and gave up. I was very much tempted to reach beneath the table and finish it myself.

I glanced towards Sin with perplexity. Her expression remained constant, but her lips held a slight tilt on the corner that was twitching upwards. She was holding her cheeks from raising her eyes into a squint.

This fucking chick.

There was punishment, and then there was cruelty.

Just as if it couldn’t get any worse, a staff member from the diner came by. This time, it was a waiter; a red-skinned demon with a pair of neat, filed studs protruding from each side of his forehead as horns, dressed in a plain uniform and an apron. He came by with a flask full of coffee and flashed a sharp-toothed smile at me, “Refill, Sir?”

At that very moment, Sin mushed her foot against the full length of my shaft, clutching the head beneath her curled toes. I was caught in surprise, and a deep, guttural sound exploded from my lungs. I managed to catch it in my throat just before it transformed into a scream out of my mouth, suppressing it into a mere hiccup.

The demon waiter seemed concerned, “Are you alright, Sir?”

“Bread crumbs in my throat,” I lifted my mug with shaking hands, “Gonna need something to wash it off.”

The demon waiter seemed relieved as he poured me another fill of coffee, “That would be my pleasure, Sir. Anything else?”

“Nothing,” I flashed him the best smile I could manage, “Tha-”

“Actually, can I get another plate of this?”

I shot a glare towards Sin which she ignored with a shining, innocent grin towards the demon waiter. She had a finger pointed towards her half-eaten pancakes. The demon waiter looked to her plate, turned back towards Sin and returned a smile of his, “I will be right with you, Ma’am.”

And away the demon waiter went, leaving me with Sin’s devices, helpless.

Sin kept her foot firmly planted on my cock as she pushed my shaft around, grinding it against my thighs and groin. She wasn’t continuing her job; rather, she was maintaining her progress. My dick was on its verge and in need of just that one small push which Sin put great care into avoiding. She kept her force constant, never exceeding that tension to drive me over the edge. She brushed her toes against the sides, tickling my skin, toying with the bubbling semen within itching to splurt out as it should’ve had minutes ago.

I was this close to damning my self-esteem. At that point, I wanted nothing more than to cum and be done with it. If it meant a felony and a restraining order, so be it.

But then I saw the looks Sin gave me as she played with my penis.

That smug, shit-eating, self-congratulatory smile she slapped across my sight with impunity as she continued playing with my dick.

It sparked something in my heart, enough to make me hold my pride to the light.

If this was the game she wants, this would be the game I play.

She started to pinch against my foreskin. She drew my cock down like an elastic drawbridge and stretched her foot, stepping on my dick from above, keeping my shaft from shooting back up. With the back of her sole, she mushed against the head of my penis while her other foot doubled as support, rubbing the bottom of my cock between the tip of her toes. Her skin pressed against the thin fabric of her socks, brushing her soft complexion against my raging erection.

I did nothing else and drank from my coffee mug.

Sin was starting to notice the shift within our dynamic, showing a slight, curious raise from her eyebrows. Still, she kept a levelled head and proceeded without a hitch. It was of mutual understanding that this was a game of endurance on my part. As hard as it was to admit, Sin didn’t just have the upper hand; she owned the sponsors and paid off the judges. The game was rigged in her favour from the start, and that fact was no more apparent than when she decided on a whim to release my cock back upright. In lightning speed, she wedged my dick between her two soles and gave it three strokes in rapid succession.

My cock saw the light right as the first stroke came. Like a geyser, my semen grabbed hold of the opportunity and reached out to salvation just as the second stroke ended. Yet, just as it was about to meet the air, Sin slammed her two feet down to the base of my dick, dragging the skin with it. My cock’s head was left exposed in the cold air. The chilling gusts blew the door close, right before my cum could see the light of day. 

I bit my tongue hard enough to leave a permanent bite mark on its flesh. Not even my hardest push was enough for my semen to break past the threshold. My dick twitched in desperation for a release, but all that resulted was a depressing retreat back into my paired reserves. Meanwhile, Sin sat like a queen, finishing her pancakes in peace as she kept on tormenting my rod beneath the table. 

If there was any consolation, I managed to leak out a considerable amount of pre-cum, which Sin picked up right as they rolled down the length of my manhood, soaking her sock with my fluids as she went back to playing tiny, frivolous games with my dick.

My cunt puncher was burning, yearning for deliverance from the torturous chains binding it to its unbearable agony. All it could do was thrash around in its fruitless endeavour as the prison warden watched and laughed in silence, gracing her toes around its body, teasing it with every small force applied to its mass.

Yet, little did the warden know, the game she played was about endurance just as much as it was perseverance. Though she held the winning cards, she was playing the wrong game. There could only be one winner, and it wasn’t her. All she could do was delay the inevitable. I just had to wait for that one moment where she slips, and there was no better slope for one to skid down than arrogance.

My hands shivered as they brought the coffee mug to my mouth again. The sight further fueled Sin’s ego as her smug grin grew deeper.

All according to plan.

The demon waiter from before came back with a fresh plate of pancakes. Her feet didn’t even pause for a split second as he came by. She kept with her work as normal as if we weren’t an audible squirt away from getting kicked off the establishment. The woman pulled her plate close and dug in with ecstasy, taking small sips from her milkshake in between.

I was holding onto my coffee mug with dear life. It had become a pseudo-pillar for my sanity. Its radiating warmth, the muddy texture of the coffee within, and the curvature of its ceramic handle; things keeping me from pouncing on the woman and grabbing her legs and using her feet like a wet cunt.

At that time, the situation had gone over Sin’s head, so much so that she was thoroughly convinced that Lady Luck had betted all her chips on her side.

“Hey,” she said between bites, “Guy.”

I let out a suppressed, “What?”

She pulled her previous trick on my cock again, this time pulling it down from the base with her toes while rubbing the head with her sole at a soft, gentle pace, “Where to next?”

I concentrated every nerve in my body to my crotch, pushing the notion of ejaculation to the forefront of my head, “The mall. You said you wanted clothes.”

Sin slanted her upper foot at just the right angle where my shaft could be kept down, while her toes began rubbing through its length from beneath, “Yeah, I did say that.”

“So what else do you want,” I was pushing my penis so hard that I felt as if I’d pop a blood vessel or send my cock into a pressurized explosion out of self-induced stress.

“We don’t go to the mall often, right,” she took a sip from her milkshake as she pinched the base of my cock, stimulating my already frenzied nerves, “So why not spend the most out of it?”

“We’ve got a whole week ahead of us,” I could feel my semen surging back up again, this time bringing its full force into battle as they charged their way up my shaft, “We can take our time.”

“Where’s the fun in that,” Sin grabbed hold of my cock’s head between her toes and wrangled with it, twirling my dick wherever her foot willed it to be, “I want to catch a movie.”

“Sure,” I sipped through my coffee mug, draining every last drop of focus I had onto my balls, “We can do that.”

“Scratch that, I want to catch two movies,” she drew my penis back down again, rubbing the top with her soles as she tag-teamed with her other foot, brushing against the bottom in the opposite direction, “Then we get more clothes.”

Just a little bit more, I thought, “As you wish, Madam.”

“Ah, I forgot,” she cut a big slice off her pancakes and gulped it down, just as she slipped both her feet down to the base of my cock, prodding my groin with her toes, “We need to get condoms too.”

“I’ve got enough in my wallet,” I lowered my hips, sliding my cock against the woman's feet by my own volition.

Sin suddenly tensed up her feet, squeezing my cock in between her soles, keeping me from moving by myself, “You sure?”

She finally let slip. That squeeze was just enough stimulation for my shaft. My cock trembled from the sensation. I felt my boiling semen burrowing its way through the pressure, surging up towards the tip of my dick.

“Alright,” I put on my best smile, “We’ll get more.”

Sin caught on and, without a split second lost, shot her feet outwards and clutched the head of my cock, squeezing my hole shut in between her toes.

“Maybe later,” she grinned, clutching my cock tight, “I’m feeling for a third plate.”

Contrary to her expectations, however, I was already prepared. I stiffened my thighs and pressed them together against Sin’s feet, locking her in with me. Just before she could react, I pushed my hip back up, jabbing the head of my dick through her toes. Sin tried to stop my advance, tensing her feet just in time to hold my cock from pushing all the way through. That was where my pre-cum came in, where it wetted her socks before this. It worked against her wishes, acting as a lubricant as her soft, warm soles clutched against my penis. Against her intent, she provided a wet, tight spot for me to release, everything after that was permanent.

I came, shooting streams after streams of cum onto her smooth, hot feet. My semen coated her socks and they sucked it up like a sponge, tainting themselves into a pair of steaming, dripping mess. I held my thighs close and tight, refusing a single drop to leak out onto the floor.

I glanced up to see Sin’s face. What greeted me was a face of pure shock smothered beneath a thin sheet of rationality. Her expression had become a fierce battleground between her emotions and her sense of public etiquette. She would love nothing more than to jump out of the table and deal with the mess she found herself in, but more than that was her aversion to giving the diner a full, front-seat view of her cum-stained socks.

Relieved and relaxed, I picked up my coffee mug and slanted against the backrest of my chair, “We’ve got all day. The mall doesn’t. It runs on limited hours. Don’t want to waste more time eating, right?”

She looked back at me. Without a word, she pulled a sulk. It wasn’t a show of anger or grudge, but one of dissatisfaction, like a kid doing well in a race only to lose his momentum on the final leg.

Silent, Sin pulled her feet away from my cock. I held onto her legs, ensuring that she picks up every lingering moisture from my dick with her socks. She reached down onto the table and picked them off.

She pushed away from the table and stood up, wearing her shoes as her hand held a wet, warm ball of fabric, “You owe me new socks.”

“We’ll get as much as you like,” I smiled at her as I reached down to my pants, zipping my genitals back into my underwear, my cock still at half-mast.

“You better,” she pouted as she walked past me, making her way to the washroom.

I finished the last of my coffee and called the bill. This time, the feline beastkin waitress who had served us came around. She seemed to be quite the veteran employee, seeing as she came around with a tray and a mopping cloth in hand as she came around.

“You may pay this at our counter when you’re ready,” she said as she fished out a bill from the pocket on her apron dress.

“Thank you,” I held the bill in my hand.

“And,” the beastkin waitress added as she picked up our plates and mugs, “I would advise against any future prohibited actions to be conducted within our premises.”

As much of a no-brainer her words were, it took me a while to catch on to what she was talking about. I was so sure that nobody discovered us that it escaped my mind entirely that someone else would know of our little act under the table. I opened my mouth in shock; the words I wanted to say escaped my mind entirely. All I could manage in the end was, “M-My bad.”

“Glad you understand,” the beatskin waitress was professional about it. She didn’t give a disgusted expression or a personal comment about it, though I wouldn’t blame her if she did.

Out of curiosity, “W-Who else knows about this?”

“If you don’t mind knowing,” she wiped up the last of our stains and crumbs on the table, “It had been the talk among our staff for the last five minutes. Us beastkins have sensitive noses.”

I made sure to note this diner down in my list of places to never step foot in again, “S-Sorry, again.”

The beastkin waitress nodded, “As long as you understand,” and left.

Right on time, Sin was done with her business and came up from behind, refreshed and missing a pair of socks.

“Okay, Guy,” she came round the table and sat back on her seat, “Where to next?”

I stood up and grabbed her hand, “Out of here.”

 

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