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Jessie (Toy Story) loves to give footjobs and blowjobs (350+ images in download-link)
🕑 Added 2025-04-24 17:00:10 +0000 UTCJessie didn’t wear shoes much.
Not around the farm. Not in the house. Not when she was with you.
She liked the way the dirt felt between her toes, how the wooden floorboards creaked under her bare feet, and how your eyes always dropped the moment she slid one foot slowly up your thigh.
Tonight, she was trouble.
The sun had set behind the fields, the air warm with summer heat. She leaned against the old kitchen table in her denim shorts and a tied-up flannel that barely held her together. Her lips curled into a smile as she caught you staring — again.
“You’ve been working hard,” she said, her voice low, teasing. “Think you deserve a little reward?”
Before you could answer, she dropped to the floor in front of you, hands unfastening your belt with practiced ease. But that wasn’t where she started.
Her feet brushed your legs — slow, soft, playful.
You watched, breath catching, as she brought one foot up between your thighs, her toes curling around you with gentle pressure, stroking just enough to make you lose focus.
“You like that?” she whispered, licking her lips. “I love using my feet. Gets you all worked up before I even put my mouth on you.”
She kept going — slow, deliberate movements, her toes flexing with control, eyes locked on yours. She moaned softly just from watching you react. Then she brought her foot down and leaned in.
Her mouth replaced her foot, warm and eager.
She was good. No — she was perfect.
She took her time, deep and wet, her tongue moving with skill, her lips wrapping around you like she’d been dreaming about this all day. Her hand gripped your thigh. Her other foot slipped up between your legs again, teasing you from below as her mouth worked you over.
She looked up at you with messy hair, flushed cheeks, and eyes full of hunger.
“You’re gonna lose it,” she murmured against your skin, “and when you do… I want you to remember it was my mouth and my feet that made you fall apart.”
And she was right.
You didn’t last long. Not with Jessie.
Not when she was on her knees in the barn kitchen, moaning around you with her dirty little feet stroking you from below — like the good, filthy farm girl she was.
