She looked at me with a mix of pity, scepticism and horror: “Are you actually willing to pay for this?? What are you: a newly discovered disease or something?” Now, that wasn’t a nice thing to say, was it? But I was quick to reply: “If so, I’m not contagious.” She giggled and shrugged Her shoulders: “Alright nutcase, show Me the money.” I did and – as promised – kneeled down in front of Her. She wore an ultra mini miniskirt and Her gorgeous legs were just inches away. It was all a bit awkward and uncomfortable, I admit that. “Tell Me a bit more about this Leg-Fetish thing,” She asked. Bless Her! Because that really broke the ice and I answered the question in great detail. After my hymn She looked at the money and frowned. “If it means that much to you, then this is just a tip, isn’t it?” Blimey, She was a quick learner! She made me empty my wallet in the hope (not the certainty) of getting permission to worship Her legs. Hence the saying: show me a leg and I’ll show You the money.
Men are either into breasts or bums, they say. Which makes me one of nature’s misprints, I guess, because I’m into legs. I was already a leg-fetishist long before I knew how to spell it. Legs rob me of my senses and give me a never-ending boner. Even my socks are wet at the end of the day. But there’s something mysterious about legs as well. There are numerous leg-fetish sites on the Net, which should suggest that this lovely fetish is widely accepted. But I’ve met quite a few Ladies with legs all the way up their armpits, but none of them seemed to understand what the leggy fuzz was all about. So it’s all fine and dandy to be a boot-, shoe-, panty-, ass-, foot- or what-not slave, but leg-slaves don’t even exist! How weird is that.