I tickled the nylon feet of two friend’s mothers as a kid as I explored my nylon feet kink. One was frantically ticklish, the other not so much but to be honest I was just happy touching nylon feet!
As I got older though, and especially in my 20s as my tickling fetish grew stronger, I chanced my arm with tickling friend’s mothers. Seeing a mature woman reduced to hysterics always appealed to me even then, and does so now even though I’m in the mature camp myself!
Hope you enjoy; this is quite long, but took place in the space of a single night. I was 23, and a university housemate of mine was having a surprise 21st birthday party. Myself and the rest of the house made the trek to her actual family home for a party. I'd met her parents and friends before throughout the course of the year, and was on good terms with them. The part initially took place in a local hall, before carrying on at my mate's house into the wee small hours. The front room was rammed, and the seats were on a first come, first served basis. I found myself sat on the floor (purely by circumstances), and realised I was surrounded by lots of female legs and feet. Many of the women had changed from heels to slippers for comfort, and I had to find a space on the floor rather than stand. I nestled in between two middle aged Irish women, one of whom was wearing navy blue moccassin slippers, white/grey tights and a grey trouser suit. I’d later find out that this was my friend’s aunt. Her left leg was crossed over her right, and her foot dangled from her slipper some six inches from my face, exposing a smooth greyish white stocking instep.
I kept looking at it from the corner of my eye, her slipper jigging up and down, heel popping out until I could take no more. I'd been making conversation with the woman here and there, had a few drinks inside of me so figured (drunkenly and with hindsight incorrectly) that it wouldn't be that out of line to play with her foot. As she spoke I reached up and slowly dragged my finger along her instep and down to her heel. Her foot inclined slightly, but she carried on talking. I repeated the motion, her instep and heel smooth against the material of her tights. I'd say she was about a size six UK shoe. She wasn't attractive as such, but was quite tall, brown bobbed hair and brown eyes. She let me carry on for a while as my fingers found her stocking sole. I began to really tickle her foot, and she began laughing and squirming, her foot wiggling and flexing. She was trying to maintain her conversation, but kept punctuating it with things like 'There's someone here who likes tickling feet!'. I carried on for about twenty seconds more until she regained her composure, looked at me and said 'There's people looking, you should stop now...', which I did. Don't want to draw attention to myself now, do I?
An hour or three and many beers after I'd tickled my friend's aunt's feet, I was standing in the hallway making conversation when a fairly drunk woman came up to me and rubbed her hands all over my chest. I think her hands were sticky (knowing my luck, so was my shirt!), but I was intrigued as to who she was as she was quite an attractive lady. Quite short, pleasantly plump, late 30s to early 40s I'd say, long brown hair and brown eyes, and was my friend's friend's mother. She was wearing a long white dress and white tights, shoes already gone. She went to sit in the front room, and began talking and playing with the family dog. The perfect excuse to take things further...at this point, I wasn't interested in her feet, but in seeing how far I could get!
I sat on the floor in front of her, pretending to take an interest in the dog but also talking to her, staring into her eyes intently at taking quick glances at her feet. As I was stroking the dog I said something like 'the dog's getting all the attention, you deserve some as well' which with hindsight implied I thought she was a dog! Regardless, I picked up one foot off the floor (UK size 6?), and began to gently massage and knead it. She didn't look overly comfortable, but seemed to enjoy the massage as her eyes were wide and mouth soft and pouty. I gave little tickles along the soles of her feet which made her smile and squeal, but focused mainly on the massage. I went for the other foot, when I became aware of another friend asking me to join him on the sofa. I ignored him, and continued with the massages and tickles.
His voice became more urgent and shouty, until I got fed up and asked him what he wanted. My initial thought was that he was jealous, and I was quite short with him when asking him what he was up to, until he responded 'If her husband sees you, he'll kill you....'
Oh.
I very sheepishly then sat back in the chair, desperately trying to blend into the scenery when not two minutes later the husband walked in. He didn't look in my direction, thankfully; if anything, he seemed more pissed off that his wife was drunk. I only saw the back of him, but he looked like he could hurt people... . They both left, and I let out a sigh of relief. I went into the kitchen to get a drink, and saw the mother of my friend whose birthday it was washing glasses at the sink. A short, blond Irish woman (think a much younger version of the mother from Everyone Loves Raymond), she was beavering away, and seemed quite sober. We made small talk, and she mentioned her feet were killing her. I looked down, and underneath her long black dress I saw that she had kicked off her shoes and was in black stocking feet....
Hmmmmm.
My friend's mother said her feet were sore, and I realised that she was shoeless. She'd been wearing standard black heels, which were now discarded as she stood at the sink in sheer black stocking feet. Well, we couldn't have her with sore feet now, could we?
I jokingly admonished her for washing up when there was a party going on, and told her I had just the cure. I pulled two chairs over (now, bear in mind that I'd only met this woman once or twice previously!), made her sit down and sat opposite her. I then told her to place her feet in my lap, as I was going to massager her feet for her (alcohol plays a great part sometimes...!) She did so quite willingly, and I ran my fingers over her stocking soles, kneading and caressing here and there, flexing her toes back and forth. She had quite small feet, about a UK size four I'd say, and we made general conversation as her feet received a going over. I may have given her little tickles here and there, I honestly can't remember. The whole thing lasted about ten minutes, and was apparently caught on film! Thankfully, the evidence was recorded over before it could be shown....phew!
What I do recall, however, was that later on in proceedings I was sat next to her on the sofa, along with another housemate. She made reference to the foot massage, and my housemate looked at me in disbelief. I shrugged it off, saying I was offering a helping hand! My friend's mum had her feet scooped up on the sofa next to her, and I gave her a little tickle. She squirmed a bit, and I then paid attention to the toe band on her tights. It was slightly crooked, and so I discreetly manouvered it so that it covered her toes properly. She wiggled her toes and smiled at me, so I quietly asked if the foot massage and tickles were okay. She nodded, and said that she would often take her shoes off, stretch her legs out and ask her husband to tickle her feet.
Interestingly, her daughter once said that when she was younger she could only sleep if she had her feet tickled beforehand...it must be genetic!
Not bad for one night’s work, eh? I hope you enjoyed, guys.
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV
Thanks for sharing your experiences here. 
