These socks spent hours wrapped around my perfect feet—soaking up sweat, scent, and power with every step I took. I didn’t wear them for you, but now you get the honor of having what clung to me all day. Go ahead, press your face into them and breathe deep. I bet you’ll imagine the way my toes curled, the heat trapped inside, the damp imprint of me. You’re not just buying socks—you’re buying a filthy little fantasy. And now? It’s stuck in your hands.