VR360 Namorado emagrecido
Martina returned to the room, barefoot on the floor. Her shoes were taken to the living room and removed. The two sports shoes were crookedly leaning against the balcony door, with the shoe openings facing outward, and there was still steam coming out from inside, the smell of rubber and glue spreading layer by layer into the room. Sweat, leather, the warm acidic smell produced by the day's activities filled the entire house. She bent down and pulled off the wet socks from her feet, first the left foot, then the right foot, and threw them into two balls on the ground.
She frowned and leaned back. Her feet were wet, with a thick layer of sweat lightening the surface. The yellow and white hard calluses were pressed out on the outer side of the heel, and the toe spaces were filled with soft white mud soaked by sweat, which would stick when pressed; there was a small patch of mottled red on the toenails.
The shrinking Jamie stood on the floor in front of her feet, only as big as her thumb.
She looked down for three seconds and understood. She slowly lifted her right foot, the sole hovering above his head and turning in a circle, as if inspecting a new toy.
The front half of the sole fell down. Hot, wet, heavy. Her foot bottom pressed against his chest, the sweat acting as a layer of mucous, fixing him to the floor, with the stale smell of just-shoved-off shoes.
The heel followed and dropped down. The entire sole spread out, the hard calluses biting into the floor, he was being slowly embedded. Her toes moved, rubbing against him a few times, then the entire body's weight slowly pressed onto this foot. The sweat on the sole was squeezed into a line, dripping down along the edge of the sole.
The heel lifted and dropped down, landing on him. The hard calluses touched first, then the arch of the foot, and finally the entire sole. She lifted the other foot onto the stool as well, and all her weight was on the left foot. Her toes opened, the white mud in the toe spaces flowed out through the gaps, smearing onto his face. She turned the heel half a circle, and a very soft, dry sound came from the floor.
She lifted her foot and used her toes to push him to the center of the foot, then stepped down again, this time with much more weight. The floor didn't crack, and he lost his shape.
She didn't take a bath. She walked out barefoot - her feet were still the same as they were during the day.
She moved the plastic stool on the balcony into the living room and stood on it.
She looked down at the sole. The sole of the foot was wet and white and sticky, the heel was yellow and hard, the toe spaces were filled with soft white mud, and the toes opened and closed, pulling out several thin sweat threads. The smell was everywhere, because there were no shoes to block it, it was even more intense than before.
Her left foot landed first, the heel next to him, the front half of the sole hanging down, the toe slightly touching the ground. She slowly shifted her weight onto this foot, the skin on the sole tightened and flattened inch by inch, the sweat squeezed into a bright line, dripping down along the edge of the sole.
The heel lifted and dropped down, landing on him. The hard calluses touched first, then the arch of the foot, and finally the entire sole. She lifted the other foot onto the stool as well, and all her weight was on the left foot. Her toes opened, the white mud in the toe spaces flowed out through the gaps, smearing onto his face. She turned the heel half a circle, and a very soft, dry sound came from the floor.
She sat on the sofa, raising both feet, placing them on the black footstool in front of her. The footstool was not large, her two heel tips resting on the edge, the sole pressing in the middle, the feet on the left and right sides of the shrinking Jamie, enclosing him between the two feet. The layer of sweat on the sole had partially dried, turning into a sticky and shiny layer, the white mud in the toe spaces had dried up into lumps, and the nail gaps were black.
The shrinking Jamie was on the footstool between the two feet, enclosed by her own feet, unable to move.
She pushed her feet forward simultaneously, the heels supporting, the sole pressing against the footstool surface and rolling over, then rolling back from right to left, like using two palms to rub something. Sweat layers were squeezed out, smearing onto the footstool surface, sticking him, and when she lifted her feet, she was lifted off together and swayed under the foot center. She brought her feet together, the soles pressing tightly in the middle, and slowly pulled them in, pressing him between the two foot centers, the hottest and wettest place. The five toes spread out, enveloping him completely, and then slowly tightening.
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