by Jon Miguel
“Hold the elevator!” a deep voice said.
The clap of flip flops against sole echoed in the lobby. My heart jumped when he turned the corner. A giant man pumped his arms in a fake jog for politeness sake. “Thanks,” he boomed. He was built like a truck, wide and large. At least 6’4. Muscular all over, but in a 20% body fat kind of way. The type of guy who played outside tackle because he was big, strong, but also nimble. He had a beard comprised of stubble, and cheeks that hinted towards a former chubbiness his grandma’s thumbs homed in on.
I flashed him the low effort, stranger smile; lips jammed together with a head nod for recognition. Out of breath and sweating, he reached across to hit his floor, but stopped midway through, “Oh 10 as well.” His forearms were large, colored by light brown hair. I looked down to avoid the supreme awkwardness of the elevator interaction, but particularly this one with a hot guy. Mistakes were made as my eyes darted to his tan feet in white, rubber flip flops that contrasted nicely against his skin tone. Fuck. They were perfect.
The man laughed.
I looked up at his grinning face. Perhaps a funny text. With subtlety, I returned to take a mental snapshot. His toes were rounded, and proportional like little Russian babushka dolls that fit inside one another. They grew in size until they reached his large, big toe which seemed to be working overtime as his stabilizer. His nails were trimmed and had a perfect, even, crescent sliver of white to contrast their deep pinkish-purple hue.
He laughed a bit more deeply this time. “Must be a good one.” I smirked, asking to be let in on the joke.
“It is. I have a bet about you.” The man said. The elevator door opened and he stepped across the threshold before turning around. “If you get down on your knees and rub my foot, I’ll let you take a picture of my feet.” His beautiful brown eyes locked with mine for a few seconds. Part of me desperately wanted to fall to my knees and lick his sweaty feet, and another part of me wanted to tell him to fuck off.
“Tempting, but I’m watching the Packers with a buddy. Mind if I get past?” I replied. I usually jerk off to situations like this, but for some reason I was telling this huge, hot guy to pound sand. I walked past, his inch or two on my 6’3 seemed more drastic. He made sure that our shoulders collided. I was a stocky 240, but he was powerful and mine gave way to his.
His eyes sharpened, he chuckled and grabbed my shoulder with his thick hands, “I saw the way you looked at my feet. There’s no walking out of here without me knowing your secret. Might as well get a picture out of it.” He flicked the toes on his left foot. A shiver went down my neck with his touch on my arm.
Fuck I wanted to service this rugged, football player dad. The man smiled as he saw the light of lust flicker on in my eyes. The weight of his arm on my shoulder was enough for my weakened legs to bring me to my knees. I genuflected at the altar of this masculine daddy. I scouted the hallway of my buddy’s floor before getting on my forearms to massage this man’s foot. He lifted his foot and I gently removed the flip flop. He had a sock imprint on his lower leg. “Daddy had a long day coaching the college football team. I was in cleats running drills with my boys,” he said. My palm perfectly fit the groove of his arch and I squeezed. His eyes closed in quiet enjoyment before he said, “Let’s go back to my place where you can give me proper attention.”
“Hey, man. I appreciate this, but I had only planned for the picture. My friend is waiting for me and I’ve got a boyfriend.” My body wanted more, but my mind was protecting me by throwing out all my obligations. The man stepped with his bare foot on my hand. He placed more of his weight on me. His calves were now eye level and the round globes were tense. “Daddy needs this. You’re going to serve him. Cancel your friend.” My cock stirred in my pants.
I got up and followed him quietly to his door like a lost puppy dog. There was nothing wrong with me giving a man a foot massage. This man was much larger than my boyfriend who was only 5’9. He was a specimen that I might not ever get the chance to worship again.
The apartment was well pointed, good lighting, and open concept. I walked into the kitchen which overlooked the living room. He went to his chair. The goliath threw his feet up on the ottoman and crossed his legs. His right calf bulged from pushing into the other. His feet seemed even larger from this angle, probably a foot long. I was struck by the stark slope from the top of his foot down to his toes. I stifled a deep breath. I imagined him pushing guys my size and bigger around. Man handling them for the flimsy excuse that was football. It explained why he needed his curvaceous calves packed with muscle. If his weren’t the strongest, then someone else might dominate him.
The titan laughed as I just silently stared at him from the kitchen. The sight of his bright white smile was addicting. I felt the urge to make him laugh more. “Come over here, boy. Daddy’s big, smelly feet are waiting.” Bill laughed again. It was so deep and masculine that you felt warmth hearing it. His laugh had a way of making you feel like the joke was with you rather than about you.
Before I had even got to his feet, my cock was straining against my pants. His sizable toes rubbed together and bowed forward like flags on a day with a gentle breeze. The movement was involuntary, but it drew me in like a siren. As my face approached this man’s gorgeous feet, I could smell the field and the hard day of work.
He lifted a foot and waggled his toes at me with a big smile. “Get to work, son.” I was at the bottom of his feet and was startled by the perfection especially, since they had been crammed into cleats most of his life. He had a strong arch and smooth glossy bottoms where his foot made contact with the ground. His toes had prominent pads, almost like a dogs. They were small tear drop cushions protecting his toes. I needed to suck on them, I didn’t care if he only wanted a massage. I didn’t care what my boyfriend would think, or his wife would think. This man deserved service.
I took a seat on my heels and leaned over. I licked along his arch taking in the almost sweet stench on his foot from the hard day of work. My cock ached in my pants. My tongue traced along the inside before Bill shivered and retracted his foot. I pulled his foot back and gently rubbed his toes between my fingers. Bill shifted awkwardly and sat up straight. His boyish smile was gone, now replaced by a sexually dominant air. His fat cock pushed his mesh shorts upward. I took his big toe into my mouth, sucking softly. Slowly, I brought my lower teeth along the bottom of his toe allowing them to gently catch on his pad before sliding up and off. I brought my lips back down repeating the process like a good boy.
Minutes passed. His man scent and taste were stronger and more prominent than I was used to. It drove me and my dick insane pleasuring this brute. We must have been a sexual match because I found it delicious. His pheromones were the kind that drew me in. The type that signify biological diversity to a woman and drive her wild. Here I was, helplessly sucking him. I rubbed my face up and down the bottom of his foot. “Smell daddy's big stinky feet, you like that, huh?” I moaned in assent. I could feel my body loosening and myself becoming freer. I could finally let go and be a foot slut for a daddy that had earned his dominance.
“You like Daddy’s big feet, don’t you boy? Your boyfriend doesn’t have feet like mine, does he?” I shook my head as I moved to the top of his foot. I gripped the thick tendon connecting to his shin with just my lips. I gently shook my head like a dog with a T-bone. “Suck daddy’s other foot.” I tried to get as many of his toes as I could in my mouth, but only got four. I spit on his big toe and deep throated it before repeating the process with each of them. I was acting like a complete whore. I had a job and direct reports and status, none of it mattered here. This man was my job. His toes were filthy little cocks that needed to be sucked off. I barely noticed that Bill’s actual cock was pointing straight out from his body, begging to be released from clothing. “Fuck ya, you are a fucking dirty little sissy. Daddy’s bulky feet earned a sissy boy like you.”
Dad pushed the ottoman out of the way. He spread his legs wide enough to make room for a man, “Get on the floor. Daddy needs that mouth.” I crawled towards him and lay down on the floor in front of him. His foot came over my face and I licked the bottom. I ravaged it with my tongue. He put both of his massive feet around my face and dominated me with them. I tried my best to please them both, going back and forth between them with my mouth. I had a new daddy and he knew how to keep his boy happy. Pretty soon I had cleaned his feet and I was wanting more of his scent. I came up off the floor and forced my nose into the crevice of his thigh. Fuck. This masculine daddy smelled like an alpha. I could smell the effort of pushing around other men all afternoon. Daddy grabbed my hair and pushed me back towards the floor. “My feet aren’t done, boy. Keep going, son.”
He got up and stood over me as I fell down to the floor. One foot was on my face. He looked down on me and I felt completely submissive to this man. A man I had only just met. He had raw sexual dominance. He was a leader. He could have walked into my job and asked for it. They would give it to him. He commanded a room. My cock was starting to hurt from being put away for so long. I could feel cum building from the realization that this man was bigger and better than me in every way. His big feet dominated me. I submitted to the lowest part of him. I licked and sucked on them. I pleased him. Pressure built in my cock. Daddy was so important and such a good alpha that I didn’t have to pretend. I could finally be me and let him take over. “Fuck ya, boy. Get those huge mitts clean. You’re making daddy feel good.” I replied to him, “ya, daddy? Please tell me how good I am.” I put his toes in my mouth. I was moving quickly over them, kissing and licking with ferocity. “You’re doing such a good job, sissy. You’re making Daddy feel good.”
I didn’t have to pretend to be in charge. I was in my natural state, serving a gigantic hunk that towered over me. He looked down on me writhing at his feet. Maybe I was pathetic to him, but I was making him feel good. It didn’t matter as long as he felt good. And that made me feel good. My cock started vibrating from knowing that daddy was enjoying himself. His deep voice kept egging me on, “Daddy loves his good little boy. His big smelly feet are so happy with you.” His large toes wriggled from enjoyment.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The way I felt about him, and my position on the floor below him were in harmony. Daddy knew my place and I knew it too. Without touch, my humming cock began to sputter. Cum flew inside my pants. My cock fought against the material. I moaned into dad’s steep arches, and put them against my cheek. They fit perfectly. Daddy fit perfectly with me. He flashed his white smile, “good boy, you did good, boy.” I continued to spew in my pants. Daddy let me keep his feet and I held onto them as the orgasm pounded over me. “Oh ya boy, it’s okay. Let that cum out.” I was humping into the air like an animal. There was no pussy waiting. My body didn’t know that it was my gigantic daddy’s feet in my mouth which made me cum. There was nothing to hump into except the realization that I was daddy’s foot boy. I kept sucking and moaning on his toes like a pacifier so I wouldn’t scream too loud. “Daddy’s here. It’s okay to cum.” I had to keep pleasing him and making him feel good so I could finish cumming. I softly nibbled on his pads and my cock continued to wag up and down shooting more cum into my underwear. “You earned that, boy. Daddy is proud of you. Keep going.” I was moaning into his foot as he flashed his perfect smile at me. My cock gave its final pulls as sperm flowed into my boxers.
I had taken his big toe in my mouth and was just sucking on it as the post orgasm glow faded. Daddy took his foot away and turned on the game. He sat down and began to watch it. “Write down your number on the counter, boy. My wife will be home soon,” he told me. I did as he said and made my way home. My pants were soaked with cum for Daddy, so I couldn’t go over to my friend’s house.
How would I hide them from my boyfriend?
