My Birthday Surprise 4

"Happy Birthday Abbie!!"

I don't know what caught me more by surprise, the enthusiastic shouting or the lights in the kitchen suddenly turning on. Either way, that surprise was quickly replaced by the biggest smile I could muster. Crowded in my family's small kitchen were all my favorite relatives, here to wish me a happy 18th birthday.

"Oh my goodness!" I yelped, completely unaware of this surprise party. "I don't know what to say!"

"Don't say anything!" my grandma Jody said, as she ushered me into the kitchen. "Just let us do the talking, while you blow out your candles."

Sure enough, there on the table was a huge cake with 18 wax candles waiting to made a wish upon. Behind me mom and dad both grinned from ear to ear. We had just gotten back from a fancy restaurant downtown, each of us dressed up for the exclusive dining. I was dressed in a navy blue, low cut formal dress and heels to match the color of the dress. With my perfect outfit and all this attention, I felt like royalty. Happily and confidently, I walked into the kitchen, sat down at the table, and watched as my grandpa lit each candle one at a time. As he finished, my entire family started to sing.

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Abigail! Happy Birthday to you!"

The next five hours passed by as quick as they came. I was showered with far too many gifts that I knew to do with, my family was pleasant company, and my parents even allowed me to drink a little bit of wine. For only just turning 18, I felt older already.

But the party had to be over eventually, my relatives all had left by midnight, and I was ready for bed. I was brushing my teeth, thinking about all the fun I had today. My adorable dress was gone, replaced by a simple white top and blue pajama pants. As much as I loved my brand new heels, my bare feet welcomed the cold touch of the bathroom floor. My mom and I had gotten pedicures today, so my toes were painted a cute light blue color to compliment the day's outfit.

I rinsed my mouth and spit, then took a second to look at myself in the mirror. One of the reason's my dinner outfit was blue was because it matches the color of my eyes. My blonde locks, which had breezed down my narrow shoulder all day, were now tied back in simpled ponytail. My petit demeanor didn't exactly scream grown woman, but I certainly felt the excitement and confidence that comes from reaching such a critical age. Feeling silly, I blew my reflection a birthday kiss before walking out the of bathroom and to my bedroom.

Gift bags, boxes and birthday cards littered the floor of my room. I knew in the morning I'd be forced to clean them up immediately, but sleep was calling my name. It was curious how tired, yet excited I was at the same time. As I crawled into bed, I heard a knock at my door.

"Come in," I said, as I pulled the covers over myself.. As expected, my dad open the door and came in, still smiling from earlier.

"So honey, can your mother and I pull a surprise party or what?" he asked, as he carefully walked over all the stuff on the floor, then taking a seat at the end of my bed.

I returned with a smile. "Yes daddy, I guess you did ok!" I joked. "But I should have seen it coming when you told me not to get dessert at the restaurant."

Dad shook his head. "We were worried about that part. I know their french silk pie is too much for you to pass up on," he said. "It all worked out fine though?"

"Yes daddy, it was amazing," I replied sincerely. "Thank you so much for today."

I opened my arms, and he came in for one of his signature bear hugs. "Love you sweetheart."

"Love you too!" I told him, as we uncoupled. Dad turned the light off as he walked out. With the darkness finally came a real urge for sleep. Before long, I could feel myself nodding off, and with my last thoughts being on my seemingly perfect day, I went to sleep.

An unknown time later, my peace and quiet was interrupted by a small, yet intrusive noise. While I almost immediately woke up, my body froze in fear. I was slightly curled to the left side of my bed, most of my body encased in the soft embrace of my sheets. Everything, except my bare feet, and there was something close to them. I could feel warm, heavy breathing on my naked soles, followed by barely audible inhaling. My first fear was a burglar in my room to steal my brand new gifts. That began to make less and less sense, as whoever it was remained stationary at the foot of my bed. It wasn't pitch black dark in the room, so I cautiously opened one eye as slightly as possible. Sure enough, I could make out the shape of a man exactly where I thought him to be. What I couldn't figure out was why the intruder merely sat there.

As if to answer my question, I heard the unmistakable sound of sniffing coming from the man. "What is this person smelling?" I wondered to myself. Though I felt less in danger now, my body remained still as a statue. Whoever this was didn't appear interested in my presents. I felt something bump the arch of my right foot, and if it weren't for my body being paralyzed I would have jumped at the touch otherwise. Touching my feet usually will prompt a good kick from me.

Then it hit me, that's exactly what this person was sniffing at; my feet. During my junior year in high school a guy was caught sniffing shoes in the girl's locker room. Everyone talked about how this guy had a foot fetish, a sexual desire for feet. The idea struck me as strange, but I never really judged it. What struck me as gross was the fact I didn't shower tonight, so my feet didn't probably smell very clean. Then again, I thought the smell could be part of it.

I felt another bump on my foot, and realized it was a nose. At this point, I was more grossed out then scared. Something had to be done about this guy. I debated calling out for my dad, who was down the hallway and would certainly come straight away. However, I knew this would give the intruder a chance to get away or attack me. What I needed to do was distract him, run out of my room, and get to my parents room before this man could recover. A plan formulated in my mind. I mentally prepared myself for this huge gamble.

When I felt the nose hit my foot again I kicked out as hard as I could, scoring a direct hit. What came next though threw me off: a familiar yelp.

"Daddy?" I picked up my phone on the nighstand next to my bed and shined the light at the man. Sure enough, it was my own dad. Our matching blonde hair gleamed in the light, his face twisted in pain. "What on Earth are yo'-"

"Ok sweetheart, you got me, now please be quiet," he said to me. "I think you might have broken it."

Although I was a bit confused, I didn't hesitate to grab some tissues on the nightstand and passed them to him. "Daddy, what are you doing in here? Are you smelling my feet?"

Dad didn't speak right away. He was bleeding from one nostril by the look of it, though I questioned if it was really broken.There was a mixture of pain and embarrassment on his face it seemed, but I couldn't really tell in the dark even with my cell phone light. I got up to turn my room's light on, only for my dad to gently grab my arm.

""Please don't turn the lights on sweetheart," he pleaded in a hushed voice. "I don't want your mother to know I'm up. Please, sit down."

"Can I at least turn on the lamp?" I asked.

"Sure, you can turn on the lamp," he said, and let go of me.

I turned on the small lamp, once again on my nightstand, and could finally see my dad's face well enough. There was a little blood on the tissues in his hand, but he'd be ok I decided. That was good, because I had some questions.

"What were you doing daddy?" I asked him again. "I felt something touch my foot and I can hear you sniffing."

With a huge sigh, my father looked me in the eye. I had never seen him look so embarrassed or anxious in his life. A man in his early 40's, he worked as a lawyer for a very successful firm, allowing him to provide a comfortable life for his wife, only child and himself. Anyone who knew him was aware that the man didn't show nervousness, from the courtroom to the hospital room when I was born. Yet, here he was, sweating profusely and tight lipped. After a brief moment of silence, he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry Abbie, I did something very wrong," he said, his voice shaky. "I guess I need to come clean about something first; I like feet."

I raised an eyebrow. "I think that's a bit obvious daddy."

His face somehow managed to turn an even darker shade of red. "Abbie, I've had this problem since I was younger than you are. I'd go crazy for a girl with pretty feet back in high school and college. That's one of the things I loved about your mom, although I kept it to myself."

"So mom doesn't know?" I asked, a bit interested in this new development.

"Oh no honey, your mother wouldn't be up for something like that," he laughed nervously. "But I love her, so I let this go for so long. It wasn't until recently that I started thinking about it again. When you started growing older."

Now it was my face glowing bright red. What he was saying made no sense. I was his daughter after all. Yet, here he was, caught red handed smelling my feet.

"Abbie honey, I'm sorry that I did this to you," my dad continued. "I scared you and put you in an awkward situation."

Weird as this was, I loved my dad. "It's alright daddy. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I thought someone broke in," I said. "But I just don't understand why you would like my feet."

"You have beautiful feet honey," he said, looking towards my feet. "Your toes are so perfectly lined up, and they always look so soft after a pedicure. That color suits you"

I couldn't help but smile at his compliment. "Well, I do like having them looking nice," I admitted. "They are kinda cute aren't they?"

"Of course honey," as he comfortably rubbed the ball of my left foot. "Would you be ok if daddy gave them a kiss?"

"Sure daddy, just for you," I answered with a giggle.

Dad gently brought my left leg up, as I glided back into a comfortable laying position. He tugged back my pajama pants and up my leg. My size 6.5 feet were sweaty from his hot breath, but that didn't stop him from planting several innocent little kisses on them. He brought up my right foot, kissing them several times as well. Then delivered a series of rapid fire kisses on both my teenage feet squished together.

"Oh honey, you're feet are so beautiful!" my dad said excitedly. "I've wanted to do something like this for years now!"

Without waiting for a reply, he resumed kissing my soles and toes. His fuzzy facial hair began to tickle my soft, sensitive feet, and I tried to restrain my giggling. In all honesty, I loved having my feet tickled. There was just something about the feeling that I loved. Even as an only child, situations like that rarely presented themselves.

"Careful daddy, you'll make me wake up mom," I playfully scolded him. "You know my feet are ticklish."

My dad stopped, giving me one of his warm smiles. "Sorry honey, I got carried away a bit there."

To my disappointment, he put down my feet gently on the bed. "Daddy, I feel really bad about your nose," I told him apologetically.

"No, I should be the only one sorry," he said. "Doing something like that to my daughter isn't right, and not only that, it scared you. Now get some sleep honey."

He got up and headed for the door. I wasn't done though. "Please, I don't want you to go yet." Dad's hand was on the doorknob when he stopped. "Would you like to smell my feet some more?" I asked.

Dad turned around. "Abbie, if you're saying this because you feel guilty, please don't," he said in a serious tone. "I'm your father, and I should act like it."

"But daddy, that''s why I'm ok with this," I explained. "I'm curious now, and I really don't want to go to anyone else about it."

The look on his face turned to concern, and he deliberated. I waited anxiously for an answer. For as long as I can remember, I've always been a daddy's girl. Though my mom and I enjoyed a great relationship, my dad and I went deeper. He knew that right thing to say, yet was tough when I needed it. The idea of having my feet smelled seem relatively less weird, knowing it was my dad doing it.

Just as I began wondering if I had reservations about this, I got my answer. "Ok honey, but this needs to be our little secret. ok?"

I put on my biggest, cheerfullest smile. "Your secret is safe with me daddy."

He got back on the bed. This time, I put my feet up for him. "Go ahead daddy, smell my feet as long as you want."

Slowly but surely, he brought his face to my soles, followed once again by the sound of heavy sniffing. Evidently, his nose was working just fine again. For about a minute, I just watched him, not saying a word. He seemed intoxicated by my natural scent. It was amusing, but I took my phone out and started scrolling through my Facebook. Dad paid it no mind, just continued sniffing my sweaty, warm skin. My timeline was full of birthday wishes, more than a hundred of them.

"Well, I did say as long as he likes," I thought to myself. I started replying to each message personally, as opposed to just liking them or posting a thank you status. It seemed more polite to me.

I got into Facebook as deeply as my father was into my feet. A good ten minutes passed before I put my phone down. My father had my legs in his hands now, as my muscles started to fail me. He had smelled every little wrinkle and every toe at this point.

"How do they smell daddy?" I asked curiously."Are they the best feet you've ever smelled before?"

"They smell terrific honey!" he exclaimed quietly. "Well, they are my little girl's feet, so of course they're the best."

His compliment made me giggle. "I'm glad you like them. What do they smell like?"

He thought it over for a second. "They smell like cheesy popcorn, with a hint of vinegar."

"Oh wow," I said, not sure that I wanted my feet smelling like popcorn. "Do you think they taste anything like that?"

"If it's ok with you honey, I'd like to find out," he asked, a bit meekly.

"You want to taste my feet daddy?!" I almost yelled. As one could imagine, I was caught a bit by surprise. "Sure, but please don't tickle me too much."

With the go ahead, my dad didn't hesitate. He brought his tongue out and gave both soles of my feet prolonged, sloppy, vertical licks. The instant he did that, I wanted to jerk my feet away because of the ticklish feeling, but I restrained myself. It felt very strange, having a tongue on my feet. However, it also felt kinda cool too.

My dad appeared to be walking on cloud nine. His eyes were closed, savoring the flavor he just compared to popcorn. Each lick spanned from the ball of the foot to just beneath my small, scrunched toes.

"Do they taste as good as they smell?" I asked him.

He paused for a second and smiled at me. "No, they taste even better."

For whatever reason, that comment made me laugh. "Would you prefer them sauteed or maybe with some salt?" I joked with him.

"Nope, I think they are done just right," my dad replied. "But I do think they are a bit salty."

His onslaught on my soles then continued, this time with him licking more vertically to get all the wrinkles. By now, I was used to the feeling, and not as tickled by this. Instead, I a warm feeling creeped over me. The same feeling I got when I kissed a boy, or during a hot sex scene in a movie. I was happily a virgin, which was fine in my book. Yet, I was enjoying this arousing sensation of my dad's tongue on my feet. There was simply nothing quite like it.

Both soles were wet at that point, and that's most likely why my dad moved on from them a few minutes later. His next move was my toes, which he must have purposely left alone until that point. Like his licking, he didn't waste any time with being slow and deliberate. In fact, his move was stuffing both my big toes into his mouth and sucking on them. Seeing him do that turned the heat up a little, and I felt a tingling between my legs, not to mention on my toes.

"Wow daddy, that feels good," I said breathlessly.

Now I was on the same plane as my dad was. His mouth wrapped around each toe, making the navy blue color nals disappear into his warm lips. When they would reappear, they'd be gleam from saliva, giving them a clean, polished look. The toe sucking felt relieving, as if it were a massage, his tongue acting as a careful hand caressing my soft skin. He treated each toe the same, sucking on them like sweet candy. I wanted a taste too.

"Here daddy, let me try," as I brought in my left foot. I was very flexible, so bringing my foot to my mouth was no problem, and neither was taking my three middle toes into my mouth. I could immediately taste a little of my dad's own saliva, but more importantly the salty, sweaty taste on my skin. Soon, I realized that it wasn't about the flavor, it was the act that made it so hot. Sucking on my toes like little pacifiers stimulated me, and I felt hotter still. I enjoyed the soft skin on tongue, and how it sent shocks all over my body, bringing teenage hormones into a state I'd never reached before.

Both my dad and I had my feet done in mere minutes after starting. The fun was seemingly over, and yet I was still not satisfied. Neither was my father, and I could tell right off the bat he wanted something more.

"I see why you enjoy this," I said. "It feels strange, but I want more daddy."

My dad looked at me, a touch of concern returned to his eyes. "Honey, I don't think we should go any further. I enjoyed it, but you're my daughter."

It was then I noticed that he was bulging out his tight dress pants. "Daddy! Are you hard from sucking on my toes?!" I exclaimed loudly.

"Shhhh! Be quiet Abbie!" he insisted quietly but forcefully. "You'll wake your mother up!"

I obeyed, but I started to giggle uncontrollably. "Oh daddy, you're getting a boner from your own little girl's feet?"

His face went from red to almost purple. "Honey, I think we should stop now," he said. "This is starting to get out of hand."

Still giggling for whatever reason, I tried to get ahold of myself. Not wanting the fun to end, I swiftly pushed my left foot into his crotch and rubbed it. My dad gasped, but didn't resist and I stroked his cock through his pants. I immediately knew that this was what he wanted.

"Do you like that daddy?" I purred. "Do you like feeling my soft feet teasing your big cock?"

In all honesty, I was rather surprised by my own actions and tone. All of a sudden, I was sounding dirty and felt aroused. My dad was even more surprised. But he didn't pull away. I brought up my other foot up to caress his bulging hard on.

"You can take it out for me daddy," I said. "I know you want to."

He unzipped his pants and pull them down. My widen as I gazed at my father's cock, which was far bigger than I guessed. I had seen penises before, including my ex boyfriends. He was tiny compared to my dad, and I was glad I didn't agree to having sex with him now knowing how insignificant that loser was. I wrapped my soles around the warm flesh and began jerking him off with my strong legs.

I had only turned 18 hours ago, and yet here I was arousing a man with my luscious bare feet. My own father too. He didn't resist anymore, like he was under some kind of spell. Pre-cum oozed onto my toes as I played with the head of his cock with them.

"Abbie, I'm going to cum," he said quietly.

"Do it daddy," I replied. "Cum all over your little girl's feet."

My dad took his cock in his right hand and began jerking. I hovered my feet beneath, waiting for him to shoot his load over them. Sure enough, he only took about 15 seconds and several stream of hot, juicy cum dropped my for feet and legs. The last drop fell, and my dad staggered back a little, apparently exhausted from this ordeal.