TrueTickler
Registered User
- Joined
- Jan 4, 2020
- Messages
- 30
- Points
- 6
There is a particular East-Indian lady that I shared a previous professional relationship with, who I had had planned to get together with for lunch this weekend.
Well, that get together took place yesterday, over lunch. She arrived at the restaurant looking a bit frumpy, wearing a sports-bra, yoga pants and sneakers, with her hair in a bun. Despite her relaxed attire, she is very attractive, with her light brown complexion, and fit body. She apologized for her look, and said she didn’t manage her time at the gym well, and simply came directly to the restaurant for our lunch date, fearing she would be late if she did otherwise. We enjoyed our lunch together, complimenting each other, and occasionally exchanging a romantic gaze towards each other. It’s clear we were a bit desiring of each other, but I wasn’t sure where this would lead. After we finished the meal, and as conversation began to wind down, she mentioned she had some packaged Indian food that we bought for me to try, that was in the back of her car. So we left the restaurant and walked to her vehicle in the parking lot. She unlocked her car, and gave me the food sitting on her back seat, which I proceeded to place in my vehicle, parked next to her. Now, it’s very cold in my parts during the winter months, so I suggested we sit in my vehicle and chat a bit more, as our cars warmed up. After we sat down, she began telling me how sore she felt after her workout. Ahhhh..... I thought to myself, now I have my angle.
I told her how good a massage would do her now, and I mentioned that I was trained in shiatsu, and that she could use a good foot massage. This is a ruse I have used before to get my hands on women’s feet, and it has yielded positive results for me. She at first was both skeptical and resistant to this, but after a few moments of convincing, I got her to agree to a couple minutes of massage, which she could stop at any time if she was not comfortable with it. She then proceeded to remove her sneakers and socks, revealing two high-arched tan feet, with red nail polish, and place them on my lap. I didn’t waste any time and began massaging and stroking her soles and toes. Her feet were soft, and well pampered.
She was initially tense and anxious, but after about a minute she started to relax. After about 3-5 minutes, I asked her if she was enjoying the massage, and she quickly nodded her head. it was then I dragged my index finger across the arch on her right foot, prompting her eyes to widen and a smile to appear on her face. She said that my gesture tickled, and I then proceeded to ask her how ticklish she was. She said ticklish enough that I am fearful of it. I took advantage of the moment, and put one hand on each foot, and ran my fingers up her soles. She neither complained or turned away, but only grinned and giggled at my efforts. I had been getting aroused when she began removing her sneakers and socks, but now I was past that point, and became, shall we say, “excited”.
I went on tickling her for a few moments, when I stoped and asked her if she could do me a favor. She agreed to this, so I asked her to say aloud to me, “tickle my feet”. She laughed and said, “if it makes you happy, tickle my feet”. I then somewhat gingerly tickled her for a few more seconds, and then stopped before it would cross into a level of creepy for her. I said I hope you enjoyed the massage, to which she jokingly responded, “don’t you mean tickle and not massage”? She swung her legs back to her side of the car, and put her socks and sneakers back on. We exchanged pleasantries, and agreed to possibly meet up soon again, as she departed.
I promised myself on the way home that the next time this would happen with her, things will get a little more intense.
Well, that get together took place yesterday, over lunch. She arrived at the restaurant looking a bit frumpy, wearing a sports-bra, yoga pants and sneakers, with her hair in a bun. Despite her relaxed attire, she is very attractive, with her light brown complexion, and fit body. She apologized for her look, and said she didn’t manage her time at the gym well, and simply came directly to the restaurant for our lunch date, fearing she would be late if she did otherwise. We enjoyed our lunch together, complimenting each other, and occasionally exchanging a romantic gaze towards each other. It’s clear we were a bit desiring of each other, but I wasn’t sure where this would lead. After we finished the meal, and as conversation began to wind down, she mentioned she had some packaged Indian food that we bought for me to try, that was in the back of her car. So we left the restaurant and walked to her vehicle in the parking lot. She unlocked her car, and gave me the food sitting on her back seat, which I proceeded to place in my vehicle, parked next to her. Now, it’s very cold in my parts during the winter months, so I suggested we sit in my vehicle and chat a bit more, as our cars warmed up. After we sat down, she began telling me how sore she felt after her workout. Ahhhh..... I thought to myself, now I have my angle.
I told her how good a massage would do her now, and I mentioned that I was trained in shiatsu, and that she could use a good foot massage. This is a ruse I have used before to get my hands on women’s feet, and it has yielded positive results for me. She at first was both skeptical and resistant to this, but after a few moments of convincing, I got her to agree to a couple minutes of massage, which she could stop at any time if she was not comfortable with it. She then proceeded to remove her sneakers and socks, revealing two high-arched tan feet, with red nail polish, and place them on my lap. I didn’t waste any time and began massaging and stroking her soles and toes. Her feet were soft, and well pampered.
She was initially tense and anxious, but after about a minute she started to relax. After about 3-5 minutes, I asked her if she was enjoying the massage, and she quickly nodded her head. it was then I dragged my index finger across the arch on her right foot, prompting her eyes to widen and a smile to appear on her face. She said that my gesture tickled, and I then proceeded to ask her how ticklish she was. She said ticklish enough that I am fearful of it. I took advantage of the moment, and put one hand on each foot, and ran my fingers up her soles. She neither complained or turned away, but only grinned and giggled at my efforts. I had been getting aroused when she began removing her sneakers and socks, but now I was past that point, and became, shall we say, “excited”.
I went on tickling her for a few moments, when I stoped and asked her if she could do me a favor. She agreed to this, so I asked her to say aloud to me, “tickle my feet”. She laughed and said, “if it makes you happy, tickle my feet”. I then somewhat gingerly tickled her for a few more seconds, and then stopped before it would cross into a level of creepy for her. I said I hope you enjoyed the massage, to which she jokingly responded, “don’t you mean tickle and not massage”? She swung her legs back to her side of the car, and put her socks and sneakers back on. We exchanged pleasantries, and agreed to possibly meet up soon again, as she departed.
I promised myself on the way home that the next time this would happen with her, things will get a little more intense.