Twilight Ignoring

>Twilight has her back to one arm-end of the couch
>You have your back to the other end
>"Alright Anon, you're fine to go ahead whenever you want" Twilight began.
>"I'll be reading some of my backlog, because..." she exhales through her nose, a laugh you might express online though an 'LOL'
>"Well, because, I've been lazy. I've been meaning to read more, but I dont get the chance to socialise often, so I guess I'm killing two birds with one stone here."
>The studious smart girl's feet point their toes towards to, resting in your lap
>They're covered in white, knee-high socks
>You'd be more inclined to call them pantyhose though, as you can clearly see the bare soles within the elastic footwear
>It's of no great importance, though, as Twilight picks up a brown, leather-bound book and lifts it between her face and yours
>It feels as if you're suddenly alone in the room with a pair of feet
>The quasi-privacy does terrible, wonderful things to your mind
>You find yourself imagining all manner of playful, and torturous, ticking you could inflict
>Sensual massaging
>Sucking, licking, nibbling, all sorts of oral activity centred on her bare feet
>You feel as if you're already being mischievous with the pair of feet all for yourself, whose warmth and pliability you feel through your hands
>That mischievousness is despite Twilight's go-ahead to have some fun with her feet, this weekend, as she engrosses herself in some heavy reading
>Your mind and body is focused entirely on running your thumbs over the stockinged feet in your lap
>Your desire to hide the fact you want to rip off her socks comes second to the desire to rip off her socks
>You rip, in a figurative sense, Twilight's socks down her legs
>Pulling her two socks all the way down her calves until they come off her feet...
>You're greeted with two feet, two soles, ten toes
>All bare, and all yours
>Her toes, oh her toes
>Arranged at the top of her soles they sit perfectly rounded, each pressing against its neighbour
>Her feet are generally attractive, sexual, and more importantly, right in front of your face and free for you to play with
>Twilight shows no sign of stirring at the removal of her socks, not even curling a toe
>You lower your body, in a sitting bow, giving a gracious kiss to the tips of her toes
>You don't come back up from your lean forward
>You lower your mouth onto a couple of toes, and with your tongue, slowly and carefully, you lick the gaps between each toe
>Twilight turns a page of her book
>Almost in an attempt to get her to react, you lift her one leg up in your hand
>A perfectly still, indifferent foot stares at you back
>Planting kisses rapid fire does nothing
>Nibbling on the ball, the heel and the arch of her sole does nothing
>Smart Purple has remarkably soft, ticklish feet
>But you can't elicit a reaction despite your best efforts
>Maybe she'd been meditating, and could shut off those sorts of external stimuli
>You know she'd been interested in meditation, and you weren't sure if you believed in the effectiveness of such things
>But one way or another
>Twilight was effectively ignoring your salivation on her soles
>And nothing drove you more wild
>It seems almost counterintuitive, but Twilight's indifference to what acts you could think to perform with her feet made you crazy
>Setting down her leg again, you stared at the pair of soles intently
>Twilight Sparkle, you have some damn fine walkers on you
>I bet if you said that out loud, she'd react
>Because what the hell was that sentence?
>It's just because your thinking process is dominated by the imprint of footprints in your mind
>The silhouette of the two facing you blazing in your mind
>Reaching out a hand, some fingers, you gently stroke the feet in front of you
>Such pleasure from the simple touching of skin seems ridiculous
>But the pleasure is as tangible as the very warmed, lustful anatomy between your legs
>Then, movement
>A normal, unconscious crossing of legs undertaken by Twilight
>Ankle on top of ankle, her soles now reversed, left is right, right is left
>It's like you're not even there as, once again, you go down on her feet
>"Mmm..." murmurs Twilight
>From the tone of it, you have literally no way of determining if the slipped sound arose from an interesting tidbit of information in her reading...
>Or, if she had let down some mental barrier and registered the pleasurable, warm and wet feeling of a probing tongue over her soles
>Tenatively, you go back over her feet, massaging and squeezing every inch with great care and attention, trying to garner some attention from the poni girl
>A toe twitches as you rub Twilight's feet, but no more than this
>It's almost disappointing, but then you remember
>You enjoy having Twilight's feet so far removed from herself
>Spending the rest of that precious time lavishing your lustful affection on her feet, you can't help but grow the seed of an idea in your mind:
>You wonder if Twilight has any spells to physically detach someone's feet, through a portal of some sort
>A pocket portal to a pair of some of your friends' feet wouldn't be an unwelcome gift...