Not So Smart Footboy

I’m failing and you’re here to tutor me… or so you think. I’ve picked you out of all the other boys because you look the smartest… and by that I mean you look like that’s all you’ve got going for you.
Anyways, here we are and you can’t take your eyes off my feet. My feet are turning you on. I see it growing and so I use your weakness against you. Instead of helping me, you are going to do all my work for me in the promise (yeah, ok…) of a foot job once you pass the class for me.
I demand you sniff my socks and even go as far as wrapping one around your nose and shoving the other down your throat. Why else would a girl like me hang out with a boy like you?