Emma Stone naked Showed Off Her Lingerie_001

Emma Stone ★ Hottest Tribute Ever!

Fulfilling a Fetish

Making love to the celeb’s ass and feet.

Yes, this is a foot fetish story. There’s other stuff, too, like blowjobs and ass-fucking. But if feet aren’t your thing, this ain’t for you.


I was at a charity fundraiser, which, I was told beforehand, would play host to a number of celebrity guests. Standing in my best suit sipping a glass of champagne, I scanned the venue in the hopes of finding someone I recognised; sure enough, the more I looked, the more celebs I found.

I glimpsed Brooklyn Decker, wearing a tiny blue dress that showed off her beautiful features. I recognised Emilia Clarke of Game of Thrones fame, who was fixed into a complicated green outfit that accentuated her hips and legs. I saw Jessica Chastain, who had her red hair styled into curls and her impressive rack squeezed into a boob-tastic black dress. She looked ravishing, and I considered approaching her and chatting her up, but just as I attempted to muster some courage I heard a voice behind me.

“Nice shindig, huh?”

Surprised, I spun around to find The Amazing Spider-Man star Emma Stone smiling at me. Her hair was blonde and beautiful, looking similar to her character of Gwen Stacy. Her pale skin contrasted with her deep purple dress, which came down to her knees and showed off her slender legs. Her lips gleamed, her eyes sparkled, and there she stood, smiling. Simply put, she looked… well, amazing.

“Uh, yeah, it is!” I replied.

She noticed my nervousness instantly, and laughed. “Oh, man, that is hilarious.” She put out her hand and offered a handshake. “I’m Emma, by the way.”

“I certainly know who you are,” I said, smiling as I clasped my hand against hers.

“Right,” she smiled back.

I shook her hand, introduced myself, flirted a little and threw a dorky little gag in there, just for good measure. It didn’t take long for me to feel a connection between us. At first I thought I was crazy; I mean, I was attempting to flirt with a Hollywood actress, for Christ’s sake. But Emma was electrifying — she was breezy, honest, funny and beautiful.

After a period of time we had moved towards the bar, sipping small glasses of champagne. We hadn’t stopped talking; it was like we were high schoolers at a party. When she wasn’t looking I would stare at her, gazing at her legs and feet, lingering on her wonderful hair and pretty face. The crowd in the fundraiser was dwindling, and just as I worried the buzz was starting to die down, Emma put a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m having a tremendous amount of fun here, but I think I know something else we could do,” she said.

“What did you have in mind?” I quizzed.

“Well… how about you accompany me back to my hotel?”

I stood, taken aback and overwhelmed with excitement. Finally, I picked my jaw off the floor and stuttered out a response. “Uh… yes! Yes, I would love to.”

Emma smiled. “Awesome.” She looked side to side, then leaned in. “Okay, follow me, we’re gonna have to go with my security people.”

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