Anyone/M Lee
Registered User
- Joined
- Feb 17, 2013
- Messages
- 4
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Hi guys. First true story for this site, but I may post more if y'all like it.
I recently had a terrific experience with a foot model named Lucy at the Foot Spot in NYC. I met her at her location one balmy August afternoon, and she opens the door dressed in an oversized white button-up shirt, a pair of biker shorts, and an utterly adorable grin and greets me with a hug. She leads me into the room before sitting down on the edge of the bed.
Let me say right off the bat that Lucy is gorgeous - lovely smile, chestnut locks pulled up in a chic-messy bun, porcelain complexion with a constellation of delicate freckles speckled across her nose and cheeks - she exudes "girl next door" beauty. (Don't take my word for it - you can see the pictures.) She's also smart, sweet, and a terrific conversationalist.
As we start to chat, she wrinkles her nose and squints at me. "Have we met before?" she asks. Truthfully, we had met at a foot party a few months where she had tickled me a little, but I honestly didn't think she'd remember. I nodded, and then her eyes went wide and she said "Wait a minute! Are you the guy who was into tickling?" Like many people, mention of the dreaded "t-word" sends me blushing like a tomato, so I sheepishly confess, "Yeah, that was me." She covers her mouth laughing before saying "I was just thinking about you and how we should do more tickling at these parties! That was so much fun!" And if I wasn't beet red before, I definitely am now.
Grinning again, she invites me over to the bed and asks if I'd like to remove her socks. Obviously I say of course I would! I peel her warm black socks off one at a time, revealing a pair of creamy pale feet with cute toes, burgundy nails, and impossibly soft soles. Truly, pressing my fingers into her soles as I gently massaged her feet felt like falling into a pile of silk. She grinned as I kneaded her toes and the balls of her feet as we chatted about work, travel, having once lived in the same neighborhood, etc.
After a few minutes, I finally work up the courage to ask "Would you be open to tickling me?" She puts a hand to her cheek and fake gasps. "What? Oh my god, of course! That sounds like fun! Why don't you get comfortable?"
Blushing from nervousness but still totally excited, I peel off my shirt and kick off my shoes and socks, leaving my shorts on, and lie down on the bed face-up with my arms outstretched. She gets up on the bed and kneels over me, hands on her hips. She considerately asks me if I have any spots I definitely do or do not want tickled, and I tell her I'm an open book. She also asks, "If you want a break, do you want me to stop completely, or just lighten up a little?" I hadn't even thought about that. "I guess you can keep going lightly?" She nods, then leans down over my belly and begins to trace her nails across my skin.
I immediately tense up and feel the butterflies flutter in my stomach. Lucy's nails are perfect tickle tools. Not too short, not too long, perfectly rounded, as effective at eliciting gentle titters as she draws delicate lines across the tops of my feet as they are capable of deep belly laughs when she digs into my underarms. And as I feel her gently caressing my torso, from hip to hip, then side to side, gently exploring my upper body, I know I'm in for a ride.
The next hour goes by in a blur of giggles and writhing and laughter, but I'll give you some of the highlights.
First off, she is an incredibly game tickler, always looking for new nooks and crannies to tickle, exploring unusual spots and finding some hidden gems. At one point, she found that skittering her nails on the edge of my chest just at the crease of my bicep is almost as ticklish as the underarms themselves, and she gleefully teased and tickled me there for a while. Her hands later crept under my neck, causing me to writhe and squirm in what were surely incredibly flattering contortions. After mentioning that the tops of my feet were also ticklish, she spun around and straddled one of my legs and began to wiggle her fingertips on my toes, one hand on the top, one hand on the underside, that it caused my toes to spasm back and forth, unable to decide which tickling was worse. After a while I was so wired that my toes' wiggling basically turned into a vibration as I silently laughed and chuckled at the feel of her delicate fingertips driving me up the wall.
Second, she knows how to pace herself. I didn't realize how effective the "lighten up, but never stop" method of tickling was going to be, but it was probably my favorite part of the session. I've had more intense tickles before, but there's something about the fact that the tickling changed in intensity BUT NEVER EVER STOPPED that made it so incredibly fun and teasing.
Third, she knew how to use her feet. I wasn't tied up, so for a lot of the session, I basically tried to hold myself still or she'd pin a wrist or an ankle down with her hands. But at about the halfway point, she got the idea to have me worship her feet while she tickled my sides. With her legs pressed against my chest and her creamy soles against my lips, my mobility was severely limited, and she found she could tickle me a lot harder with a lot less wiggling. The best part came when she put one foot on my face and used the other to pin my wrist to the bed. With my arm trapped and stretched out, my underarms were exposed with nowhere to go. She spent minutes tickling and teasing me there, while all I could do was cackle into lovely sole with muffled strained laughter.
By the end of the session, my cheeks were sore, my face was crimson, my nerves were jingling and jangling, and my hair looked like Beethoven waking up with a hangover. And I couldn't stop smiling.
I got dressed, said goodbye, and she said she'd hope to see me again soon. She absolutely will. 🙂
I recently had a terrific experience with a foot model named Lucy at the Foot Spot in NYC. I met her at her location one balmy August afternoon, and she opens the door dressed in an oversized white button-up shirt, a pair of biker shorts, and an utterly adorable grin and greets me with a hug. She leads me into the room before sitting down on the edge of the bed.
Let me say right off the bat that Lucy is gorgeous - lovely smile, chestnut locks pulled up in a chic-messy bun, porcelain complexion with a constellation of delicate freckles speckled across her nose and cheeks - she exudes "girl next door" beauty. (Don't take my word for it - you can see the pictures.) She's also smart, sweet, and a terrific conversationalist.
As we start to chat, she wrinkles her nose and squints at me. "Have we met before?" she asks. Truthfully, we had met at a foot party a few months where she had tickled me a little, but I honestly didn't think she'd remember. I nodded, and then her eyes went wide and she said "Wait a minute! Are you the guy who was into tickling?" Like many people, mention of the dreaded "t-word" sends me blushing like a tomato, so I sheepishly confess, "Yeah, that was me." She covers her mouth laughing before saying "I was just thinking about you and how we should do more tickling at these parties! That was so much fun!" And if I wasn't beet red before, I definitely am now.
Grinning again, she invites me over to the bed and asks if I'd like to remove her socks. Obviously I say of course I would! I peel her warm black socks off one at a time, revealing a pair of creamy pale feet with cute toes, burgundy nails, and impossibly soft soles. Truly, pressing my fingers into her soles as I gently massaged her feet felt like falling into a pile of silk. She grinned as I kneaded her toes and the balls of her feet as we chatted about work, travel, having once lived in the same neighborhood, etc.
After a few minutes, I finally work up the courage to ask "Would you be open to tickling me?" She puts a hand to her cheek and fake gasps. "What? Oh my god, of course! That sounds like fun! Why don't you get comfortable?"
Blushing from nervousness but still totally excited, I peel off my shirt and kick off my shoes and socks, leaving my shorts on, and lie down on the bed face-up with my arms outstretched. She gets up on the bed and kneels over me, hands on her hips. She considerately asks me if I have any spots I definitely do or do not want tickled, and I tell her I'm an open book. She also asks, "If you want a break, do you want me to stop completely, or just lighten up a little?" I hadn't even thought about that. "I guess you can keep going lightly?" She nods, then leans down over my belly and begins to trace her nails across my skin.
I immediately tense up and feel the butterflies flutter in my stomach. Lucy's nails are perfect tickle tools. Not too short, not too long, perfectly rounded, as effective at eliciting gentle titters as she draws delicate lines across the tops of my feet as they are capable of deep belly laughs when she digs into my underarms. And as I feel her gently caressing my torso, from hip to hip, then side to side, gently exploring my upper body, I know I'm in for a ride.
The next hour goes by in a blur of giggles and writhing and laughter, but I'll give you some of the highlights.
First off, she is an incredibly game tickler, always looking for new nooks and crannies to tickle, exploring unusual spots and finding some hidden gems. At one point, she found that skittering her nails on the edge of my chest just at the crease of my bicep is almost as ticklish as the underarms themselves, and she gleefully teased and tickled me there for a while. Her hands later crept under my neck, causing me to writhe and squirm in what were surely incredibly flattering contortions. After mentioning that the tops of my feet were also ticklish, she spun around and straddled one of my legs and began to wiggle her fingertips on my toes, one hand on the top, one hand on the underside, that it caused my toes to spasm back and forth, unable to decide which tickling was worse. After a while I was so wired that my toes' wiggling basically turned into a vibration as I silently laughed and chuckled at the feel of her delicate fingertips driving me up the wall.
Second, she knows how to pace herself. I didn't realize how effective the "lighten up, but never stop" method of tickling was going to be, but it was probably my favorite part of the session. I've had more intense tickles before, but there's something about the fact that the tickling changed in intensity BUT NEVER EVER STOPPED that made it so incredibly fun and teasing.
Third, she knew how to use her feet. I wasn't tied up, so for a lot of the session, I basically tried to hold myself still or she'd pin a wrist or an ankle down with her hands. But at about the halfway point, she got the idea to have me worship her feet while she tickled my sides. With her legs pressed against my chest and her creamy soles against my lips, my mobility was severely limited, and she found she could tickle me a lot harder with a lot less wiggling. The best part came when she put one foot on my face and used the other to pin my wrist to the bed. With my arm trapped and stretched out, my underarms were exposed with nowhere to go. She spent minutes tickling and teasing me there, while all I could do was cackle into lovely sole with muffled strained laughter.
By the end of the session, my cheeks were sore, my face was crimson, my nerves were jingling and jangling, and my hair looked like Beethoven waking up with a hangover. And I couldn't stop smiling.
I got dressed, said goodbye, and she said she'd hope to see me again soon. She absolutely will. 🙂
