OK...I never shared this story before because this incident got me in a whole lot of embarassing trouble. (Note to self: never tickle an attention-seeking psycho) But... the danger has long long passed.
Now that Medikation65 is sharing his stories on theTMF, I'd like to return one in kind.
I worked with a woman named...Karen. We were both in our thirties. Karen was a big girl, but not huge. Strong looking, with what I'll call a classic Angelica Houston face and long auburn hair. I go about 6', 190, and I'd say she was close to the same.
Her feet were huge...easily larger than my wide size 10s. I used to go out of my way to walk past her cubicle to see if she might be heel popping. She almost always wore black pants, black nylons, and black flats. I knew she had a ticklish upper body as I had seen her reaction to being poked in the ribs. Until this night, I did not know if her feet were ticklish. (2nd Note to self: if someone is REALLY ticklish, you might want to watch how much you tickle her). We had worked together for five years, and were fairly comfortable with each other.
I worked in one area of our building, and Karen worked in another. My department often worked on Saturdays; Karen's did not. But on this Saturday, Karen had come in because she had been promoted, and she was moving from her cubicle to a small office. She was dressed in (funny how you rememer these things) a red sweater that showed off her ample chest but hid her growing ass, faded jeans, red flats that matched her sweater, and...thankfully...tan stockings. I took instant notice of that, and it stayed in my mind for the day. The problem was...I didn't really have any business back in her office, so I could only do the "checking if you need help" once or twice that day. Both times the smart-ass (that would prove to be a benefit) Karen dismissed me.
At the end of my working day, I pretended I was still busy while my co-workers left. I could see Karen's car parked outside, so I knew she was still there. I headed back to her office...trying to figure out a way to get a crack at her big stockined feet. (Find an excuse to give a foot massage? Try to kid around and get her to kick me? Something...)
It kind of got worse before it got better as I walked to her office...
"Karen, you still here?"
"What are you, writing a book?"
I followed the smartass comment to her new office. There she sat, shoes on the floor, legs stretched up and out, her big nyloned feet on her new desk. She was sitting kind of sideways, looking at her computer, which sat on the other end of the desk away from her sheer pantyhosed toes. She didn't look up when I came in and feigned an exhausted flop in a chair in front of her desk. This was torture, being this close to those big, beautiful feet. I was trying hard to come up with a reason for a tickle attack.
"Looks like you're all moved in."
"Dah. Ya think?" She was focused on her computer, but smirking at her own comment.
"What the hell are you doing on there."
"Come take a look."
I went around the desk and stopped right by where she had her legs crossed, and kind of leaned into them. From that angle, I had them pinned a little bit. I looked at her computer. She was shopping for women's clothes.
"You made me get up for that?"
She was very pleased with herself. "You asked what I was looking at." Her tone was very sassy. This was very good for me.
My sarcastic reply was "Oh, you need new clothes for the new job?"
"Thaaaat's riggggght..."
"You should get some new shoes too. Hey, where do you find shoes big enough to fit these things?"
With that, I grabbed one foot around the wide part, and shook it a little bit. Man...my hand wrapped around that hosed foot felt great.
"DON'T TOUCH MY FEET!" was her reply. She tried to pull her legs down, but I was still leaning against them.
I simply asked "Why not? Are they ticklish?" And with that, I leaned harder and attacked her stockinged soles with my fingertips. She exploded on contact.
"NOAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA" Wow. I had her pinned but she started kicking. I grabbed/wrapped my arm around her right leg and focused on that foot.
"WHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHASTAHHPP-P-PHAHAHAHAHAHAHA". I tickled that foot until she used her other foot to force herself free. At the same time, she slid out of her chair and her back was on the floor. I still had her by one pantleg. She was breathing hard but not talking.
"What's the matter, Miss Smartass? Not so tough now..."
In her maddest voice: "Let me go." In hindsight, I maybe should have. Instead, I said
"You ain't the boss of ME."
Her desk chair had rolled near me. I pulled it the rest of the way and sat down. At the same time, I pulled her leg into my lap and crossed/locked my legs around her calf. Her big, tan, hosed foot looked great...trapped and immobile. I reached for a pen on her desk, and I took the capped end to her long stockinged arch.
"Take a memo" I teased, and then I tickled. She went even more nuts.
"WhaaaaaaaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA." Her hair was flying, she was squirming and trying to reach me. She was laughng so hard she couldn't talk.
"Awww...do you want me to stop?" She nodded yes...hard...while she laughed. I dropped the pen, and went for her toes with my fingertips.
STAAAAAHPPPHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!
And that's when I noticed the growing wet spot in her jeans (she peed). I had always heard this could happen, but I'd never seen it. I stopped, and slowly released her foot.
"Get. The Fuck. Out."
That pretty much said it all. So I did. It was the only time I tickled a co-worker...
Now that Medikation65 is sharing his stories on theTMF, I'd like to return one in kind.
I worked with a woman named...Karen. We were both in our thirties. Karen was a big girl, but not huge. Strong looking, with what I'll call a classic Angelica Houston face and long auburn hair. I go about 6', 190, and I'd say she was close to the same.
Her feet were huge...easily larger than my wide size 10s. I used to go out of my way to walk past her cubicle to see if she might be heel popping. She almost always wore black pants, black nylons, and black flats. I knew she had a ticklish upper body as I had seen her reaction to being poked in the ribs. Until this night, I did not know if her feet were ticklish. (2nd Note to self: if someone is REALLY ticklish, you might want to watch how much you tickle her). We had worked together for five years, and were fairly comfortable with each other.
I worked in one area of our building, and Karen worked in another. My department often worked on Saturdays; Karen's did not. But on this Saturday, Karen had come in because she had been promoted, and she was moving from her cubicle to a small office. She was dressed in (funny how you rememer these things) a red sweater that showed off her ample chest but hid her growing ass, faded jeans, red flats that matched her sweater, and...thankfully...tan stockings. I took instant notice of that, and it stayed in my mind for the day. The problem was...I didn't really have any business back in her office, so I could only do the "checking if you need help" once or twice that day. Both times the smart-ass (that would prove to be a benefit) Karen dismissed me.
At the end of my working day, I pretended I was still busy while my co-workers left. I could see Karen's car parked outside, so I knew she was still there. I headed back to her office...trying to figure out a way to get a crack at her big stockined feet. (Find an excuse to give a foot massage? Try to kid around and get her to kick me? Something...)
It kind of got worse before it got better as I walked to her office...
"Karen, you still here?"
"What are you, writing a book?"
I followed the smartass comment to her new office. There she sat, shoes on the floor, legs stretched up and out, her big nyloned feet on her new desk. She was sitting kind of sideways, looking at her computer, which sat on the other end of the desk away from her sheer pantyhosed toes. She didn't look up when I came in and feigned an exhausted flop in a chair in front of her desk. This was torture, being this close to those big, beautiful feet. I was trying hard to come up with a reason for a tickle attack.
"Looks like you're all moved in."
"Dah. Ya think?" She was focused on her computer, but smirking at her own comment.
"What the hell are you doing on there."
"Come take a look."
I went around the desk and stopped right by where she had her legs crossed, and kind of leaned into them. From that angle, I had them pinned a little bit. I looked at her computer. She was shopping for women's clothes.
"You made me get up for that?"
She was very pleased with herself. "You asked what I was looking at." Her tone was very sassy. This was very good for me.
My sarcastic reply was "Oh, you need new clothes for the new job?"
"Thaaaat's riggggght..."
"You should get some new shoes too. Hey, where do you find shoes big enough to fit these things?"
With that, I grabbed one foot around the wide part, and shook it a little bit. Man...my hand wrapped around that hosed foot felt great.
"DON'T TOUCH MY FEET!" was her reply. She tried to pull her legs down, but I was still leaning against them.
I simply asked "Why not? Are they ticklish?" And with that, I leaned harder and attacked her stockinged soles with my fingertips. She exploded on contact.
"NOAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA" Wow. I had her pinned but she started kicking. I grabbed/wrapped my arm around her right leg and focused on that foot.
"WHAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHASTAHHPP-P-PHAHAHAHAHAHAHA". I tickled that foot until she used her other foot to force herself free. At the same time, she slid out of her chair and her back was on the floor. I still had her by one pantleg. She was breathing hard but not talking.
"What's the matter, Miss Smartass? Not so tough now..."
In her maddest voice: "Let me go." In hindsight, I maybe should have. Instead, I said
"You ain't the boss of ME."
Her desk chair had rolled near me. I pulled it the rest of the way and sat down. At the same time, I pulled her leg into my lap and crossed/locked my legs around her calf. Her big, tan, hosed foot looked great...trapped and immobile. I reached for a pen on her desk, and I took the capped end to her long stockinged arch.
"Take a memo" I teased, and then I tickled. She went even more nuts.
"WhaaaaaaaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA." Her hair was flying, she was squirming and trying to reach me. She was laughng so hard she couldn't talk.
"Awww...do you want me to stop?" She nodded yes...hard...while she laughed. I dropped the pen, and went for her toes with my fingertips.
STAAAAAHPPPHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!
And that's when I noticed the growing wet spot in her jeans (she peed). I had always heard this could happen, but I'd never seen it. I stopped, and slowly released her foot.
"Get. The Fuck. Out."
That pretty much said it all. So I did. It was the only time I tickled a co-worker...
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