Daniel was one of those who sold me foot pics and clips for a while—always quality content that left me wanting more. After months of fantasizing, I finally invited him for a proper session. Sent an Uber to bring him over, specifically requesting his sweaty work sneakers—I needed that raw scent.
When he arrived? Even hotter in person. Chilled vibe too. We talked while he rolled a joint, my camera already fixated on those sneakers.

Then—ecstasy. Finally pressing those soles against my face, inhaling days of musk trapped in damp socks. Perfect toes, that sweet-sour sweat, his laughter as I dug my tongue between them. When he stomped my face? That’s when he truly got addicted.
I’d sell my soul to film him again.