This was not written by Klingons. (i was sick of my normal disclaimer).
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Discreet Public Foot Tickle F/M
This is back with my ex-boyfriend, who was 100% lee (which worked because I’m 100% ler). We went out to this very nice upscale restraint. Suits/evening gowns type place. We both just came back from trips, so we were very glad to see each other and desperate for some tickling action.
The restaurant is huge, and busy. We were sitting in a fairly private circular booth, and there was definitely a noticeable din in the room. I could talk to him in a normal voice and hear him, but I certainly couldn’t hear what was going on at other tables (and I doubt they could hear us) because of the buzz in the room.
So we were joking about something, and I was picking on him, so he decides to start kicking me under the table (we are highly immature beings, even in adult places), which started a verbal battle of, “Hey, stop kicking me” “Well stop picking on me.” “Well, I’ll stop kicking if you stop picking on me.” So when he kicked my knee I grabbed his foot and I twisted my body, and pulled his between my legs, crossing them to hold his foot in place. (with the table in the way, this was NOT a comfortable position for me, but I’ll often sacrifice my own comfort for my lees… =) ). His foot was caught in my legs, but essentially resting on the bench next to me, so it was hidden from view. This motion truly surprised him, and his eyes widened when I pulled off his shoe.
“Ticklish people shouldn’t be kicking people under tables.”
The color dropped from his face, “No….No….Not here.” He tried to tug away, but…being his outer leg I had trapped…the only way he could get free would be involving banging his knee against the table which would startle everyone around him and probably NOT tickle him in the least..
He was wearing a thin gray dress sock which I opted not to remove because 1) we ARE in a nice restaurant 2) his feet are so intensely ticklish, that the thin sock is not going to offer any sort of protection for him anyway.
I grinned an evil grin at him and very lightly and very slowly started to drag my nails up his soles. The giggles started immediately.
“HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE” he giggled softly, while wiggling his foot, “HEEHEEEHEEEHEEEHEEEHEE OH STOP NOT HEE-HEEHEEHEE HERE. HEEEHEEEHEEHEEHEE”
I knew I had to keep the intensity low, as his feet are his weakest spot and I don’t want him to embarrass him by causing him to scream and bring attention to ourselves. So I continued the slow ticklish exploration, as he giggled softly across from me.
“HEEHEEHEEHEE OK! STOP! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! PLEASE! HEEHEEHEE!”
I caught the waitress coming so I covered his foot with the tablecloth, and stopped my ticklish assault while I ordered. I ordered my dinner, and as soon as the waitress turned to him, I reached up under the tablecloth and started to drag a nail up and down the outer edge of his foot. He twisted his foot trying to get away, and fought/cringed while he put his order in with the waitress (she must have thought he was constipated or something), but eventually walked away. As soon as she did, I twiddled his toes, which caused him to throw his head back mouth agape in silent laughter.
I stopped again, and he looked at me grinning, “Don’t do this. Let me go.”
I flashed him an evil grin as I wiggled my index finger at him. More so than almost anyone else I’ve tickled, he was extremely sensitive to light touches and especially one index finger tracing methodically all around his sole. His eyes grew wide with horror, “No…No, no, no…EEEEEEEEEK!” he squealed softly, closing his eyes shut, mouth fixed in a grin. I traveled all over his foot, causing him to pull a little as he twisted, giggling like a little kid. The giggling increased when I pulled his toes back with my other hand, and caused him to let out some amusing snorts and lapses into silent giggles.
Tracing his arch caused a little bit louder of a squeal, to which I said,
“Shhh! You’re going to disturb the other diners.” Even though, god knows with the noise in the room, no one was paying attention to us.
I continued along my ticklish path, him giggling and pleading for me to stop. I even crawled up his pant legs and tickled the underside of his calves. As I crawled up the underside of the knees, he started squeaking and bouncing his knee, that I was afraid he was going to slam it against the table. I returned to my tracing tickles along his foot. His giggling started to get desperate, and I thought it was going to get loud, so I gave him a little break (and the waitress was coming to refill our wine, and she already thought he was constipated….no need for her to also think he went mad.) We sipped wine for a second, not saying anything….just looking at each other with stupid grins on our faces.
“I’m sure this is against the Restaurant Code of Conduct.” He said.
“What is?” I said innocently.
He cocked his head as if to say, “You aint going to get me to say it.” (he learned a lot in his time as my lee.)
“Oh….this?” I said, tickling the undersides of his toes.
“OH! OH! OH! NO!” He jumped wide-eyed. And I laughed at his cartoon-like reaction. “Not the toes! Not here! I can’t do the toes!” he pleaded.
I smiled at him, and grabbed his toes with my hand, and very slowly and lightly with the fingernail of the index finger started to slowly scrape the underside of the big toe.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” He threw his head back and just let himself be overcome with laughter. I slowly moved my fingers to the other toes, and he continued to laugh, letting himself lapse into silent laughter to control his laughter volume, and eventually, partly due to his pulling, and partly due to my legs, back and hip going numb from the wretched position I was in, he pulled his foot free.
We ate dinner, and talked a bit and then he said, “Are you going to give me my shoe back?”
“Nope.”
“Well, how am I going to get home?”
“I guess that’s your problem, isn’t it?”
He sighed and put his foot back in my lap, “Put it back on, please?”
I crossed one leg over the other in my makeshift foot vice….and we both had a very entertaining dessert course.
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Discreet Public Foot Tickle F/M
This is back with my ex-boyfriend, who was 100% lee (which worked because I’m 100% ler). We went out to this very nice upscale restraint. Suits/evening gowns type place. We both just came back from trips, so we were very glad to see each other and desperate for some tickling action.
The restaurant is huge, and busy. We were sitting in a fairly private circular booth, and there was definitely a noticeable din in the room. I could talk to him in a normal voice and hear him, but I certainly couldn’t hear what was going on at other tables (and I doubt they could hear us) because of the buzz in the room.
So we were joking about something, and I was picking on him, so he decides to start kicking me under the table (we are highly immature beings, even in adult places), which started a verbal battle of, “Hey, stop kicking me” “Well stop picking on me.” “Well, I’ll stop kicking if you stop picking on me.” So when he kicked my knee I grabbed his foot and I twisted my body, and pulled his between my legs, crossing them to hold his foot in place. (with the table in the way, this was NOT a comfortable position for me, but I’ll often sacrifice my own comfort for my lees… =) ). His foot was caught in my legs, but essentially resting on the bench next to me, so it was hidden from view. This motion truly surprised him, and his eyes widened when I pulled off his shoe.
“Ticklish people shouldn’t be kicking people under tables.”
The color dropped from his face, “No….No….Not here.” He tried to tug away, but…being his outer leg I had trapped…the only way he could get free would be involving banging his knee against the table which would startle everyone around him and probably NOT tickle him in the least..
He was wearing a thin gray dress sock which I opted not to remove because 1) we ARE in a nice restaurant 2) his feet are so intensely ticklish, that the thin sock is not going to offer any sort of protection for him anyway.
I grinned an evil grin at him and very lightly and very slowly started to drag my nails up his soles. The giggles started immediately.
“HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE” he giggled softly, while wiggling his foot, “HEEHEEEHEEEHEEEHEEEHEE OH STOP NOT HEE-HEEHEEHEE HERE. HEEEHEEEHEEHEEHEE”
I knew I had to keep the intensity low, as his feet are his weakest spot and I don’t want him to embarrass him by causing him to scream and bring attention to ourselves. So I continued the slow ticklish exploration, as he giggled softly across from me.
“HEEHEEHEEHEE OK! STOP! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE! PLEASE! HEEHEEHEE!”
I caught the waitress coming so I covered his foot with the tablecloth, and stopped my ticklish assault while I ordered. I ordered my dinner, and as soon as the waitress turned to him, I reached up under the tablecloth and started to drag a nail up and down the outer edge of his foot. He twisted his foot trying to get away, and fought/cringed while he put his order in with the waitress (she must have thought he was constipated or something), but eventually walked away. As soon as she did, I twiddled his toes, which caused him to throw his head back mouth agape in silent laughter.
I stopped again, and he looked at me grinning, “Don’t do this. Let me go.”
I flashed him an evil grin as I wiggled my index finger at him. More so than almost anyone else I’ve tickled, he was extremely sensitive to light touches and especially one index finger tracing methodically all around his sole. His eyes grew wide with horror, “No…No, no, no…EEEEEEEEEK!” he squealed softly, closing his eyes shut, mouth fixed in a grin. I traveled all over his foot, causing him to pull a little as he twisted, giggling like a little kid. The giggling increased when I pulled his toes back with my other hand, and caused him to let out some amusing snorts and lapses into silent giggles.
Tracing his arch caused a little bit louder of a squeal, to which I said,
“Shhh! You’re going to disturb the other diners.” Even though, god knows with the noise in the room, no one was paying attention to us.
I continued along my ticklish path, him giggling and pleading for me to stop. I even crawled up his pant legs and tickled the underside of his calves. As I crawled up the underside of the knees, he started squeaking and bouncing his knee, that I was afraid he was going to slam it against the table. I returned to my tracing tickles along his foot. His giggling started to get desperate, and I thought it was going to get loud, so I gave him a little break (and the waitress was coming to refill our wine, and she already thought he was constipated….no need for her to also think he went mad.) We sipped wine for a second, not saying anything….just looking at each other with stupid grins on our faces.
“I’m sure this is against the Restaurant Code of Conduct.” He said.
“What is?” I said innocently.
He cocked his head as if to say, “You aint going to get me to say it.” (he learned a lot in his time as my lee.)
“Oh….this?” I said, tickling the undersides of his toes.
“OH! OH! OH! NO!” He jumped wide-eyed. And I laughed at his cartoon-like reaction. “Not the toes! Not here! I can’t do the toes!” he pleaded.
I smiled at him, and grabbed his toes with my hand, and very slowly and lightly with the fingernail of the index finger started to slowly scrape the underside of the big toe.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” He threw his head back and just let himself be overcome with laughter. I slowly moved my fingers to the other toes, and he continued to laugh, letting himself lapse into silent laughter to control his laughter volume, and eventually, partly due to his pulling, and partly due to my legs, back and hip going numb from the wretched position I was in, he pulled his foot free.
We ate dinner, and talked a bit and then he said, “Are you going to give me my shoe back?”
“Nope.”
“Well, how am I going to get home?”
“I guess that’s your problem, isn’t it?”
He sighed and put his foot back in my lap, “Put it back on, please?”
I crossed one leg over the other in my makeshift foot vice….and we both had a very entertaining dessert course.
