Figured I needed to up the share ratio and it's long overdue so let's get crackin', shall we? This tale takes place a summer some time ago.
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I was still late into high school and had been entertaining a crush that was slightly older. She had joined my class the start sophomore year and into my junior year and later began secretly admiring her from afar. We just so happened to have the same bus route and I would go out of my way to take a seat that allowed me to steal glances without being overtly obvious (who knows how successful I really was
). It was a difficult task because she would often sit in the very back with the so-called "wicked" type. We shared a history class together and slowly, over much time we got on really well. I even found myself becoming extremely defensive hearing jock dudes making crude jokes when she'd pass by.
Her hair, at the time, was long and black (eventually more auburn), green eyes, we lived in a place with a lack of sun so her skin was pale-ish. Her frame was slender and she was a bit of a cross between small town hippie chick that liked to play with goth colors and makeup. Lots of bounce in her spirit. Soft feminine hands, about 5'9" with smooth legs, size 8-9 pale feet with usually painted toes. It really got into my head when her nails overall were black. And she had a sweater that was cut at the ends so her thumbs could come through. Her mind was really artistic and wanting to create and that, well, she turned me on terribly.
We had only just started talking on the phone and at the very least were becoming good friends, even though it was loud within me that I desired more. I didn't know what to do with that quite yet. It was around this time that I was discovering the birth of the internet and that coincided with learning about my rapidly developing foot fetish, realizing how that could potentially make that part of my life more difficult, stumbling on the tickling fetish and being dumbstruck by the feelings of conflict and awe.
Anyhow, my molecular structure was being changed by the albums White Pony by Deftones and Mer De Noms by A Perfect Circle in my room.
And I got a phone call from her. It started like the others did. We went over silly things at school, talked music, asked what the other one was doing (on the phone, kids, DUH) and I was certainly content with listening to her voice. Her laugh was infectious as she was and I wondered where our paths would lead us as far as college or the future. I'm not a huge phone junkie, but she had me riveted and I was willing to spend hours on the phone or go on half hour walks to her place. In fact, one of those times she sat next to me on a couch and she fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. The residents there barely knew me, but I was a gentleman and just enjoyed the flutter.
Back to phone:
It was mid-conversation when she laid a bomb on me.
Her: "So. Drama really got to me today."
Me: "Yeah?"
Her: "Yeah, it was normal until these two guys snuck up on me. We were chilling because it was down time and I was laying across this couch. They got me bad."
Me: "What do you mean? Like...a prank?"
Her: "No, they both were there talking for a minute. One of them sat down on the edge and all of a sudden he grabbed my sides and just started tickling the crap out of me."
Me: "Wh..what?"
Her: "Yeah, he was tickling my sides and my belly and it tickled soooo bad. Oh my god. So I was starting to go a little crazy, you know?"
Me: "Uh huh. Yeah, no wonder." *forehead got hot and a catch in my throat*
Her: "So I'm already freaking. He went for my underarms some and I'm trying to get him to mercy. Laughing my butt off. Then he told the other guy to get me so he grabbed my ankles..."
Me: "No way. Really?!
Her: "Yeah. He put my feet in his lap and he sat down on the couch holding them. So they're holding me down and I couldn't move cause I was already hysterical. I'm trying to say their names. And no one was right there but us. This guy starts tickling up and down my feet!"
Me: *about to flip my wig so to speak* "Uh...uh."
Her: "Huh?"
Me: "I mean. Damn. So did he have to get your shoes off or..cause that must've took a minute."
Her: *giggle* "He didn't have to! I already took my shoes off cause I was gonna lay on the couch. All I had was my white socks. So he was going at my feet up and down, holding them still and the other guy kept tickling my belly and sides. And it TICKLED so BAD that I about had an aneurysm. They only stopped cause it brought up this fear of losing control thing I have and I started tearing up.."
This was such a conflicting moment for me. I didn't like that they had pushed her to an emotional place she hated (it was explained to me later and it was bad news) that she talked to somebody for a second so she'd feel better, but I felt so guilty by how ridiculously turned on I was. I chided the lack of empathy and made sure that she knew I was glad she came out of it okay.
It was in that isolated conversation that I truly knew that tickling was forever etched in my genetic code.
------
I was still late into high school and had been entertaining a crush that was slightly older. She had joined my class the start sophomore year and into my junior year and later began secretly admiring her from afar. We just so happened to have the same bus route and I would go out of my way to take a seat that allowed me to steal glances without being overtly obvious (who knows how successful I really was
). It was a difficult task because she would often sit in the very back with the so-called "wicked" type. We shared a history class together and slowly, over much time we got on really well. I even found myself becoming extremely defensive hearing jock dudes making crude jokes when she'd pass by.Her hair, at the time, was long and black (eventually more auburn), green eyes, we lived in a place with a lack of sun so her skin was pale-ish. Her frame was slender and she was a bit of a cross between small town hippie chick that liked to play with goth colors and makeup. Lots of bounce in her spirit. Soft feminine hands, about 5'9" with smooth legs, size 8-9 pale feet with usually painted toes. It really got into my head when her nails overall were black. And she had a sweater that was cut at the ends so her thumbs could come through. Her mind was really artistic and wanting to create and that, well, she turned me on terribly.
We had only just started talking on the phone and at the very least were becoming good friends, even though it was loud within me that I desired more. I didn't know what to do with that quite yet. It was around this time that I was discovering the birth of the internet and that coincided with learning about my rapidly developing foot fetish, realizing how that could potentially make that part of my life more difficult, stumbling on the tickling fetish and being dumbstruck by the feelings of conflict and awe.
Anyhow, my molecular structure was being changed by the albums White Pony by Deftones and Mer De Noms by A Perfect Circle in my room.
And I got a phone call from her. It started like the others did. We went over silly things at school, talked music, asked what the other one was doing (on the phone, kids, DUH) and I was certainly content with listening to her voice. Her laugh was infectious as she was and I wondered where our paths would lead us as far as college or the future. I'm not a huge phone junkie, but she had me riveted and I was willing to spend hours on the phone or go on half hour walks to her place. In fact, one of those times she sat next to me on a couch and she fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. The residents there barely knew me, but I was a gentleman and just enjoyed the flutter.
Back to phone:
It was mid-conversation when she laid a bomb on me.
Her: "So. Drama really got to me today."
Me: "Yeah?"
Her: "Yeah, it was normal until these two guys snuck up on me. We were chilling because it was down time and I was laying across this couch. They got me bad."
Me: "What do you mean? Like...a prank?"
Her: "No, they both were there talking for a minute. One of them sat down on the edge and all of a sudden he grabbed my sides and just started tickling the crap out of me."
Me: "Wh..what?"
Her: "Yeah, he was tickling my sides and my belly and it tickled soooo bad. Oh my god. So I was starting to go a little crazy, you know?"
Me: "Uh huh. Yeah, no wonder." *forehead got hot and a catch in my throat*
Her: "So I'm already freaking. He went for my underarms some and I'm trying to get him to mercy. Laughing my butt off. Then he told the other guy to get me so he grabbed my ankles..."
Me: "No way. Really?!
Her: "Yeah. He put my feet in his lap and he sat down on the couch holding them. So they're holding me down and I couldn't move cause I was already hysterical. I'm trying to say their names. And no one was right there but us. This guy starts tickling up and down my feet!"
Me: *about to flip my wig so to speak* "Uh...uh."
Her: "Huh?"
Me: "I mean. Damn. So did he have to get your shoes off or..cause that must've took a minute."
Her: *giggle* "He didn't have to! I already took my shoes off cause I was gonna lay on the couch. All I had was my white socks. So he was going at my feet up and down, holding them still and the other guy kept tickling my belly and sides. And it TICKLED so BAD that I about had an aneurysm. They only stopped cause it brought up this fear of losing control thing I have and I started tearing up.."
This was such a conflicting moment for me. I didn't like that they had pushed her to an emotional place she hated (it was explained to me later and it was bad news) that she talked to somebody for a second so she'd feel better, but I felt so guilty by how ridiculously turned on I was. I chided the lack of empathy and made sure that she knew I was glad she came out of it okay.
It was in that isolated conversation that I truly knew that tickling was forever etched in my genetic code.
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