Her Socks Are The Culprits!

Her socks have created within me a new sense of appreciation for beauty. I would not call it a sudden development; rather a slow progress from gleeful glances to profound observations. My eyes now demand to be fixated on those small pairs of clothing that have the gift of fortune to stay so close and hug her shapely ankles, often helping them play peek-a-boo. I don’t know if it is the colours of the fabric that demand my attention or (at the risk of being exposed to accusations of perversion) if it is just a fetish I have developed for feet, but I find it difficult to stop staring at those socks and imagining the landscape underneath. How could something that has the ground and its dust for regular company create such a strong affinity within me?

Maybe I’m just fascinated with the choice of the colours she decides to wear on her feet… But then, I find myself least interested in the same colours when they await moisture’s farewell on her drying line! It is only when socks envelope her body’s lowest (strictly in an anatomical sense) beauties do I find myself staring at them with no sense of what the waiter standing beside us with our coffee might be thinking of me. I have even found myself to be slightly absent to what she might be saying, and I must add that I’m not exaggerating one bit because I do remember incidents when it happened (even though as I write this, they do seem to be some quite peculiar memories I have gathered).

I am almost completely sure it is not a perversion I have given myself access to, because I don’t find myself staring at other feet around me. I understand that this is not a very logically reasoned argument, as the pervert within sometimes comes alive only when a certain prerequisite is met – that you are attracted to the said subject. So, I should not really dismiss the idea of perversion completely. I may have developed a liking for the lovelies closest to earth. Like I said a few lines ago, her socks have managed to fill me with a new found sense of beauty, or if words were scarce, I’d say her socks have made me a pervert.