"Right here," Leo replied, carefully lifting the lid of a small, aerated container. Inside, several small shore crabs scuttled over a bed of damp sand and seaweed. They had spent the previous weekend collecting them for their study on crustacean behavior.
My actual fetish wasn't her legs, though. It was lower. It was the way her scuffed black loafers landed on the linoleum—one, two, pause—as she walked past my hiding spot by the water fountain. I collected the tiny, crushed things left behind. crush+fetish+schoolgirl+crushes+crabs+inshoe