[Fetish][Funny Sister]

My sister got married, but I don't consider this the "end." Today, I admit I drank a bit too much,
but that doesn't mean I'm rambling. Perhaps some friends are hoping I'll ramble on, maybe
they 're looking for some new thrills. But whatever I'm saying, it's all just genuine emotion; those
hoping for sensationalism can stop reading now.

I admit I've started rambling, because I saw some incoherent parts in my first paragraph.

It's been a long time since I've written anything; I've been very irresponsible. I write a few lines when I feel like it, and then I don't—
I don't think I'm qualified to be a literary writer here. My "three days fishing, two days drying nets"
personality is pretty much what it is.

I drank some baijiu today, I can't remember exactly what kind, and my head is still spinning.
Walking home, every step felt like walking on thin air, every step a potential fall. Since my cousin
got married, I've rarely seen her. Even when I do, she'll just come over for a quick dinner and then disappear.

Every time before I left, she would give me an encouraging look and say, "Good luck, you'll get there,
bye-bye .

Haha..." I knew what she meant. She hoped I would quickly find a real girlfriend, get married, and have children
in exchange for my unrealistic infatuation with her.

Yes, Sister Lian, I admit it. Otherwise, so many absurd and ridiculous things wouldn't have happened. But touching
love depends on "fate." There are countless single men and women now, and when they reach a certain age, they're
like wandering ghosts in hell, howling and wailing. This leads to
so many far-fetched dates, and these dates are like a circus act, utterly laughable...

I should still tell you what happened that day, otherwise it's hard to keep it inside...

"How was it?" my sister asked with concern.

"How was what?" I pretended to be calm as I ate my rice.

"That girl I introduced you to the day before yesterday..."

"Oh...she's pretty good...I'll see. I'll ask her out for dinner tomorrow." I didn't want my sister to be too disappointed.

"Don't look anymore! What a great girl! So pretty, so innocent..." Then she went
on , as if she were looking for a boyfriend herself.

"Fine, fine, fine, this is so annoying. You finally come home for dinner, stop talking about this." I
said .

Mom also said, "Alright, alright, let's eat! Don't worry about him, let him worry about it himself...

"

"..." What could she say?

I listlessly pressed the TV remote. There's really nothing good to watch on TV these days, too many commercials.

A 45-minute program is interrupted by 60 minutes of commercials, it's so annoying.

"Oh...why are you being so good today, watching TV?" My sister said as she pushed open the door.

"Why aren't you going home today?" I asked.

She plopped down at the foot of my bed, staring at the constantly changing TV screen, and said, "Your brother-in-law went to
Shanghai and won't be back until the day after tomorrow. I'll be alone when I go back, so I'll stay here tonight."

"Boring!" I said.

"What's boring?"

"The TV's boring!"

"You're crazy! Nobody's forcing you to watch TV. Give me the remote."

I tossed her the remote.

"You… your standards are too high… there's definitely something wrong with you!" She said, pressing the remote without turning around.

"What's wrong with me?"

"…I don't know." Her tone seemed to guess what I was thinking. "Tian Fang is so great, so capable
, with a stable job and a good family background. You're really crazy!"

Maybe I really am crazy… I didn't know what to say.

"So annoying!" I yelled!

"What's wrong with you? Don't you like me coming back to stay? Then I'm leaving!" My sister turned around, looking at
me with a puzzled expression.

"Even if I'm crazy, it's because of you," I said calmly.

My sister rolled her eyes at me, making me very uncomfortable.

A moment of silence.

The TV was still showing commercials, cosmetics commercials, with a beautiful woman walking around.

"Actually, all women are the same, there's no difference. You men, sometimes you're so silly, deceived by
appearances ."

"I didn't say Tian Fang was bad, I quite like her," I argued.

She turned to look at me: "Then what's wrong?"

"Not feminine enough… She… doesn't like wearing high heels," I said, a little embarrassed.

"How annoying you are! I think you're trying to drive me crazy." She turned back to the TV.

At that moment, I was very annoyed, so annoyed I wanted to go to sleep.

I said, "You don't even introduce me to the people I like."

"You mean Tian Tian? Didn't I tell you she has a boyfriend?… But she is indeed quite nice.

" "Just like you," I replied.

She turned and laughed, "Haha, I really appreciate what you said. But it also worries me. If it's true,
this is called 'sister complex.' Sigh... just pretend I didn't say anything."

"Who's in love with you? You're just deluding yourself! I just use you as a template because your legs are equally
beautiful."

"If your brother-in-law heard this, he'd go crazy..." "

So I'm just saying it here."

"..."

(My head is spinning, and the memory is turning into a throbbing pain. This dialogue is like a pile of shit... forgive me.)

I calmly said, "Actually, I don't go to that website often anymore. Because I know my own problems...

"

"Sigh..." she sighed. "I think you're still like a child..."

"It's not a matter of 'child' or not." I was annoyed, "There are some problems I
want to correct!"

I actually used the word "correct," which seemed to make me feel like I was still so "upright."

"Actually, you're not wrong... everything is normal, isn't it?" She looked at me and said, "It's just that I'm
your sister, so things get complicated..."

I didn't speak, staring blankly at one spot in the room. I hated my current situation;
it was incredibly stupid, unlike me.

She was silent for a moment before saying, "So what do you want to do?"

This question shattered my confidence. I felt hopeless.

"I want to sleep..." I shifted from a semi-reclined position to a full-back position. What else could I say? I shouldn't
have brought this up.

She sat on the edge of my bed, raised her left leg, and brought it to my face along the edge of the bed. Her beautiful foot was once again
so close to me. This action surprised me. The tender pink sole, the perfect shape of her foot, was once again before
my eyes. At such close range, I could almost smell a fragrant aroma.

"See?" she said.

"What?"

"Calluses?"

She was still so humorous, and I found it somewhat amusing: "No, where are they?"

"You'll get them if you touch them," she said with a smile.

I reached out and placed my hand on the top of her foot, my thumb gently tracing the sole, feeling a slight firmness.

"You touched it, didn't you... from wearing high heels. All women have them."

"I touched it," I replied, "but rarely, not very much." I didn't want to take my hand off her
foot , afraid that if I did, I'd never have a reason to put it back. I gently stroked it, waiting for her to stop.

But she didn't.

She wiggled her toes and said, "Actually, you men are silly. Women are all the same. Even the most beautiful woman
isn't as perfect as you imagine, haha, of course I'm not saying I'm that beautiful."

"It's all hormones..." I said, stroking her foot. At that moment, I felt like her
lover , not her brother. I was trying to play that role.

"You're just making excuses!" she laughed. "Don't touch my soles, they tickle."

If there were no women in the world, what would be the point of men living? I believe my point of view.

"Actually, my standards aren't high. As long as she has regular features, good temperament, a good figure, is feminine, likes to
wear high heels, and of course, stockings. Of course, she also needs a stable job," I said, word by word.

"Haha," she laughed, "You're talking about me, aren't you?"

"Anyway...we look a bit like you."

"Look at the calluses on my feet, they're from wearing high heels all these years, they're so ugly," she
said with a hint of regret.

"Then go get a pedicure, it can be removed." I started touching her calluses again, not
feeling . Are all men like this?

"I've had them repaired, but they've grown back."

"Then get them repaired again."

"Sigh...I want to tell you, there are no perfect women, and therefore no perfect templates. Don't
choose your spouse based on templates."

As I stroked her feet, I felt a surge of excitement. But I didn't feel
particularly shameless. I think, perhaps I'm not in love with her, but rather with
the many . Because I have so many stories with them, these feelings are hard to forget, or perhaps
impossible to forget.

"I love them," I mustered the courage to say from the bottom of my heart.

"I love it too... haha." Her answer disrupted my thoughts: "I still want to be a woman in my next life."

"Then I'll be a pair of shoes."

She laughed even harder: "Aren't you shameless?"

"Just kidding."

"I've noticed you're getting better and better at pretending." She really is my sister; she always seems to read my mind.

"Haven't you been wearing stockings lately?" I asked.

"Who's crazy enough to wear stockings in the dead of winter!" she replied.

"Oh, I forgot. Winter's here..." I said regretfully.

She opened her eyes wide and asked me, "What's your website called again?"

"Soft Paradise, that's not my website, I don't have that kind of ability," I replied.

"Oh... that's a nice name... My legs are sore, can I put them down?"

"Sure, I can't control your things." I reluctantly removed my hands from her feet.

"You're making me so itchy." She crossed her legs over her other leg and tickled her beautiful little foot,
saying, "Gentle—Heaven—You men really have refined tastes."

"Yes, elegant gentlemen all go there."

"Come on," she laughed.

"Really! We're not going to a brothel."

"Why are you so mean!" she scolded playfully.

"You don't know, some people analyze that women's feet have several different scents, like 'soy sauce scent,' 'light
scent ' and so on. They even wrote an article about it."

"Haha," she covered her mouth and laughed, "and scallion scent too, or sweet and sour scent. That's hilarious. So
what scent do you think I am?"

"You'll have to smell me," I said, looking at the ceiling.

A thigh suddenly appeared in front of me, and there was a foot right in front of me: "Smell it," she said, laughing.

I leaned my nose closer, and a fragrant aroma rushed into my nostrils: "You just washed your feet, didn't you?
They smell like soap, I can't tell. I can't answer you. I'll smell them again when you've just taken off your shoes. That way I can be sure."

"Haha. That would stink!" she laughed.

"Right, then you'd be called 'feces-scented'."

She kicked me with her foot: "You're the feces-scented type."

I'll always remember the smell of her stockings vividly—a mixture of nylon thread and sweat,
a faint scent of detergent and a fleshy aroma, a girl's tender care for her feet…

At this point, I think I'm seriously ill.

"You should be the strong fragrance type."

"Haha, how did you know? You mean they stink?"

"No, they don't stink," I quickly explained, "because your stockings are strong fragrance." I'm so bold.
Hehe , we've already talked this far, so it doesn't matter anymore.

"It's rare that you have such a good memory, brother! This princess will reward you with a kick." Saying that, she kicked
me again. It felt quite good. I immediately grabbed that jade-like foot again. I don't think this action is that rude.
A man can be a little shameless sometimes, otherwise he wouldn't be a man.

"Wait a minute." She withdrew her foot, stood up, and went out. A moment later, she came back in, carrying a pair of
brown high heels.

She sat on the edge of the bed, held the shoes up to me, and said, "Your brother-in-law bought these for you. Aren't they pretty?"

I took the shoes and examined them carefully, saying, "The heels are high enough, not bad
,

they look good." I brought my nose close to the shoes and smelled them: "That's right, a strong fragrance. Just that smell!" "Ugh—" She took the shoes back: "My colleagues all say these shoes are pretty, but I don't think so." "They are pretty 　　. Your

brother-in-law has good taste; he probably has a special preference like me. Haha. " 　　"Get lost. Your brother-in-law is perfectly normal." "That's because he doesn't know how to appreciate them, what a pity." 　　"Everyone has a different perspective." 　　"Yes, my 'foot' is perfectly right!" I said decisively. 　　Actually, I was already tired of this topic because it made my excitement rise and fall. It effectively controlled my desires; I was being manipulated by it, which annoyed me. Who knew my sister would bring it up again, and this time she pushed my desires to a new peak. But she remained so nonchalant. 　　"You're married now! I can't just touch your feet anymore," I said, feigning regret. 　　"Haha, then what were you touching for so long?" she said, raising her legs, this time her feet only 10 centimeters away from mine. "Do you have nail clippers?" 　　"Yes," I said, pulling nail clippers from the bedside drawer and handing them to her. She took the clippers and started trimming her toenails , saying as she did so, "It would definitely be unacceptable for other men to touch my feet, but you're my brother . Sometimes I think you're quite cute. When we're just playing around, I don't think too much about it. It's you who's overthinking it." 　　Yes, I was overthinking it. Men are sometimes vulnerable, especially when facing a woman, especially when facing a pair of legs and beautiful feet. Especially… damn it, this is my sister. 　　"Your toenail clippings poked me." 　　"Oh, sorry." She patted the bed. She continued clipping. 　　"I want to get married…" I traced the words on her tender feet with my finger. 　　"With whom?" 　　"Tian Fang."

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