Where does that sniffer go first ?

I get home from work , your sat there waiting, (fuck knows why your in my house but that's irrelevant right now)

Feet up on the table, I kick back, light a smoke, and stick my hand down my boxers.

Pushing the heel of my trainer off with the other foot it drops to the floor. Same again with the left .

With unapologetic eye contact and an upward nod you know what to do. You get down in position , my feet are level with your shoulders , and that dirty fuckin smile forms across my face . The stink fills the room as you examine the sweat stained outline of each toe , highlighted by rings of filth that only comes with days of wear. You peel those once crisp white Nikes off , still damp in your hand and wait for them Words you crave. GOOD FUCKIN BOY'