++++++ Paul, my erstwhile neighbor, had been called to the stand. Arthur said, “You dislike my client.” Paul hesitated. “Had better neighbors in...my day, but no, I don’t dislike him. Not as such.” Arthur whirled. “Did you make up a rape story with your daughter?” Paul was taken aback. “No!” he said, “it happened just the way she said.” “Ah, I see. So, you were there?” Arthur pressed. “No! Of course not, just… whatever my daughter says, I believe her,” he finished weakly. “Did you,” Arthur. I pulled them slowly to my face. By the time they were three or four inches away, I could smell the rank smell. I had mentioned my foot fetish, right? Well to me, this was the equivalent of striking gold. Smelly socks worn by some very petite feet. Emili had given over to my foot fetish a few times. Let me lick or kiss them while I jerked off or fucked her, but she never quite seemed to enjoy the worship as much as me. I appreciated her allowing me to indulge, but there wasn't much. More

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