ChosenofMystra
2nd Level Yellow Feather
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- Aug 3, 2006
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Alright, so this story happened about three years ago when we were both around 18. We had about a month left before returning to college to face the horrors of 15 page papers and cramming for final exams and had decided we needed some well-desereved R&R before returning to our life of drudgery.
My girlfriend, whom we shall refer to as Mira came up with the excellent suggestion we spend the day at Frog Lake, which is a camping resort near Cascade Falls, Oregon. It is a gorgeous area with hiking trails and its namesake which was perfect for kayaking, drifting lazily along in the dusty twilight only Oregon summers can produce.
To spare you fine folks a lot of boring details we made the two hour drive in my '94 Taurus and had set up camp sometime aroun 3:00 in the afternoon. After a refreshing hike examining every nook and cranny of the nearby woods (we're both the outdoorsy type) it was nearing twilight and we decided to spread out a blanket and relax, watching the diminsihing sunlight cast its scarlet ripples across the translucent lake.
Mira had not been hiking in quite some time and was complaining her feet hurt. She undid the laces of her tennis shoes, slipped them off and peeled her socks back, revealing her gorgeous size 6 feet. Although she was a nature girl, she took excellent care of her feet, no bunions or anything of that sort. She placed them in my lap and sweet-talked me into giving her a massage, which I was only too happy to oblige.
As I rubbed my hands over her feet, I used an old technique of mine where I traced the tips of my fingers in tiny circles over her smooth, unwrinkled soles. I have found it to be a very relaxing technique to use...if the recipient isn't too ticklish. Of course I knew very well what I was doing and the familiar surge of delight washed over me as she drew her feet back ever so slightly and giggled; she had the most musical laugh, like wind chimes caught in a autum zephyr....but she did not ask me to cease; yet I resumed my original massage, knowing she would get much worse in just a few moments...
"You know I've explored this area on more than one occasion," I started telling her innocently enough; 'Legends say that the Pacific Northwest is one of the many areas where Sasquatch sightings have been supposidly confirmed. Don't you think this would be a perfect area for it to hide away from prying eyes?" I inquired, a coy smile beginning to form on my lips as I waited for her to reply. She laughed, called me a nerd and asked what brought that up. "Well its just that what if Bigfoot isn't as vicious as folks make him out to be. I have it on good record that he's just a poor misunderstood creature that likes to have a little fun with his victims before letting them go completely unscathed." "Where are you going with this Chris?" She asked me, raising one of her delicate eyebrows as she spoke. "Well lets just say I have proof his nickname wasn't always 'Bigfoot'" I told her, slowly raising her bare foot closer and closer to my chin as I built up anticipation "He was once known as the 'Toe Teaser' and passed on his secrets to me!" I shouted as I ran the tip of my tongue under her toes, relishing her astonished yelps and squeals of uncontrollable laughter. She was bucking and thrashing around on the blanket as I began to slowly nibble the ball of her foot. THIS apparently was her weak spot and with a tremndous howl of agonized laughter her free foot managed to deliver a smart kick to my side...which pretty much signaled our little session was over.
There you have it my friends, a corny story that only featured about a minute of tickling tops...but it is a sweet memory of mine from happier days I felt like sharing. Hope you enjoyed!
My girlfriend, whom we shall refer to as Mira came up with the excellent suggestion we spend the day at Frog Lake, which is a camping resort near Cascade Falls, Oregon. It is a gorgeous area with hiking trails and its namesake which was perfect for kayaking, drifting lazily along in the dusty twilight only Oregon summers can produce.
To spare you fine folks a lot of boring details we made the two hour drive in my '94 Taurus and had set up camp sometime aroun 3:00 in the afternoon. After a refreshing hike examining every nook and cranny of the nearby woods (we're both the outdoorsy type) it was nearing twilight and we decided to spread out a blanket and relax, watching the diminsihing sunlight cast its scarlet ripples across the translucent lake.
Mira had not been hiking in quite some time and was complaining her feet hurt. She undid the laces of her tennis shoes, slipped them off and peeled her socks back, revealing her gorgeous size 6 feet. Although she was a nature girl, she took excellent care of her feet, no bunions or anything of that sort. She placed them in my lap and sweet-talked me into giving her a massage, which I was only too happy to oblige.
As I rubbed my hands over her feet, I used an old technique of mine where I traced the tips of my fingers in tiny circles over her smooth, unwrinkled soles. I have found it to be a very relaxing technique to use...if the recipient isn't too ticklish. Of course I knew very well what I was doing and the familiar surge of delight washed over me as she drew her feet back ever so slightly and giggled; she had the most musical laugh, like wind chimes caught in a autum zephyr....but she did not ask me to cease; yet I resumed my original massage, knowing she would get much worse in just a few moments...
"You know I've explored this area on more than one occasion," I started telling her innocently enough; 'Legends say that the Pacific Northwest is one of the many areas where Sasquatch sightings have been supposidly confirmed. Don't you think this would be a perfect area for it to hide away from prying eyes?" I inquired, a coy smile beginning to form on my lips as I waited for her to reply. She laughed, called me a nerd and asked what brought that up. "Well its just that what if Bigfoot isn't as vicious as folks make him out to be. I have it on good record that he's just a poor misunderstood creature that likes to have a little fun with his victims before letting them go completely unscathed." "Where are you going with this Chris?" She asked me, raising one of her delicate eyebrows as she spoke. "Well lets just say I have proof his nickname wasn't always 'Bigfoot'" I told her, slowly raising her bare foot closer and closer to my chin as I built up anticipation "He was once known as the 'Toe Teaser' and passed on his secrets to me!" I shouted as I ran the tip of my tongue under her toes, relishing her astonished yelps and squeals of uncontrollable laughter. She was bucking and thrashing around on the blanket as I began to slowly nibble the ball of her foot. THIS apparently was her weak spot and with a tremndous howl of agonized laughter her free foot managed to deliver a smart kick to my side...which pretty much signaled our little session was over.
There you have it my friends, a corny story that only featured about a minute of tickling tops...but it is a sweet memory of mine from happier days I felt like sharing. Hope you enjoyed!
I'm not used to reglaing others of my rather meager tickling exploits so forgive the awkward writing style. I promise as I become more comfortable sharing with you guys, the quality of my stories will increase.
