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My Daughter's Feet

by bardsy 06/10/12

"You know," she purred. I could see the look of lust in her eyes. I knew she was trying to play the game her mother perfected and excelled at toward me a long time ago. "A fresh pedicure and a fresh load of sperm keep my feet soft and smooth. If you want dad, I will let you touch them and feel for yourself. I would let you kiss them, smell them, or whatever you want to do to them. I would really love it if you would let me stroke you with my feet. I took a shower this morning so they are all pretty and fresh for you. I used the lotion I've used for years on them this morning that you watched me put on my legs and feet while pretending to watch the news. Would my daddy like that?

My throat still dry, my cock hard in my pants, I covered it with the morning newspaper so she couldn't see just how hard I was becoming. I had to say something and regain control over this situation before it turned into something we both would regret later.

"No Kayla. You have turned into a very beautiful woman. Just like your mother. But you are still my daughter and I just can't do that to your mom, my wife. Your mom takes very good care of me, and I wouldn't want to lose her for anything in the world. Even for what you are offering. You know I will always love you no matter what, even after the events that transpired today. I never would have guessed you have those kinds of feelings for me. If you don't mind, I would just rather be your dad. Okay?"

She removed her hand from her foot, bounced her foot at me and wiggled her toes. "Dad, I don't want to steal you from mom or break up your marriage. I know you and her are still in love since maybe the second time you met. I love having you as my dad. I love being your daughter. You were my biggest fan at all my events in high school. Other girls were jealous of me because their dad wasn't as affectionate as you were. Always telling me what a great game I had even if I played lousy. You are the first man I ever loved and will always love. Show me you still love me that much. Go ahead. Reach out and touch my foot, dad. Your little girl wants you to. She wants to see your affection and how much you love her." She lifted her left foot onto the table so her pink nylon sole was right in front of me. She pointed her foot at me, flexed it, spread her toes, and began to rub her crotch through her pants with her right hand.

Not only was she beautiful, but quite the temptress as well. As much as I wanted to, I just couldn't cross that line. "No Kayla. You have got to know without question how much I love you. I shouldn't have to be tempted into touching you. You know I would rather die than to see you hurt. Please don't ask me again. I love the alone time we have and love just sitting here talking with you. Please don't turn this into something we will regret."

Kayla continued on with her attempted seduction by taking her hand and grabbing her foot, and lifting it to her nose. Her other hand made a jack off motion in front of her crotch. She looked at me and winked, while audibly smelling her foot. "The lotion smells good on my feet, dad." She purred and put her foot back in front of me. "Go ahead, and smell for yourself. Show me your cock and smell my feet. Rub your cock against my foot. Put my feet together and make a foot pussy for you."

"No." I croaked out while taking the paper and covering my erection. She unbuttoned her pants and slipped her hand inside. Her left hand started squeezing her breast through her shirt. Then she put her right foot on top of her left repeating the pointing, flexing, and spreading movement with both her feet. Her hand movements made no mistake she was playing with herself. In my mind I kept repeating 'she isn't going to win. She isn't going to win.'

"I would love to be my daddy's perfect little slut."She purred at me, winked and gave me her "daddy smile;" the smile that was reserved only for me. "I could play with myself while you jerk off and play with my feet. You can fuck me too dad, whenever you want. I want you to. I would never say no to you when you want to fuck me. My girlfriends say I'm really good at cock riding. Take your cock out. I can show you how good I am at cock riding and you can hear me orgasm." Her leg shook and she sighed. "You can cum in my pussy. Or pull out and cum on my feet. I don't care where, just let me make you cum for me. I love you daddy. Show me you love me."

"No Kayla. If you love me as much as you say you do, you would not incite me to perform any type of sex act, and especially not with you. Love is not about sex, Kayla. I hope Matt doesn't love you because you give him sex. I love you so much; it hurts me to even be having this conversation with you. I need you to stop what you're doing, and leave."

Kayla slowed her hand movements. I could tell though she was using one finger pushing it slowly in and out of her. "Tell you what dad. I don't want you to be embarrassed. So here is what I'll do. These are thigh highs, so I will take one off and give it to you. After I leave you can smell it all you want. No one will know. We'll have coffee again tomorrow, and if mom doesn't have sex with you tonight, you can jerk off into it. I'll wear sandals tomorrow so my feet will be bare. Jerk off into my stocking right before I get here. During our coffee I'll wear it so you can see your sperm on my legs and feet. I will do it for you, because I love you that much."

"No Kayla. You need to stop what you're doing. You need to stop masturbating and end this nonsense. This is totally inappropriate behavior. It's called incest Kayla, and it's illegal. How can you possibly justify doing this? I didn't raise you this way. Are you on drugs or something? No girl as smart as you should be acting like a two dollar whore in front of her father. If anybody found out about this, I would be crucified. Button yourself up and go home."

"But daddy...." Kayla whined.

"No buts Kayla! Get the fuck out!" I yelled and pointed at the door.

Kayla froze in her movements, looked at me and I could see the obvious hurt in her eyes. I couldn't remember any time I have ever yelled at her, much less dropped the F-bomb in any of my children's presence. She uncrossed her legs, took them off the table and put her shoes back on. She pushed out her chair from the table stood up to button her pants and straighten her shirt and slung her purse over her shoulder. She stopped at the kitchen door with her hand on the doorknob, looked up at the ceiling and exhaled a deep breath.

"I'm sorry dad." She said softly, her back turned to me I'm sure because she was unable to look at me. "I didn't mean to offend you. Please don't hate me. I couldn't live with myself if you hated me because of this. Can we still have coffee tomorrow?"

"Kayla, I love you, I could never hate you." I said in a calm reassuring voice. "We can still have coffee together because I enjoy just being here talking with you, but not a repeat of today. Okay?"

She walked back to me, gave me a peck on the cheek like she always did when she left, and gave me her daddy smile again "I promise dad. Just coffee." And with a "see ya later dad" she was gone.

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