Jammy With A Hint Of Parmazan

I love your boots
Hidden treasure
Lost loot
Buckles and zips
Not to rough
Not too slick
Neglecting the moment
Thinking with my dick
Knee high
Thigh high
It’s all the same to me
You could not believe how I feel
When I caress the length of its heel
The zippers stuck
Just my luck
I insert my left hand
In search of a lucky dip
Exploring catacombs of soft leather folds
Velvet to the touch
Narrow tunnels that open into a wide open space
I am calm
My pulse is erratic
This is naughty
Considered devilish
I never understood the attraction of a foot fetish
My body relaxed thanks to diazepam
I smell your soul
Your boots are jammy with a hint of parmazan
is this a little bizarre?
have i crossed the line?
Have I gone too far?
You stood in the doorway
Brushing the hair from your eyes
I felt from your anger as if I was going to die
Birds had migrated
So had the doves of love
I sat there embarrassed
Wearing your boots for gloves.