Like most of you, I've been into tickling as long as I can remember. I think my first real tickling experience, even though I didn't actually do any tickling, happened when I was about 12 or 13 years old.
It happened on the school bus. One of the girls on the bus was named Lisa. Lisa was a very pretty girl. I'm not sure how old she was, but she was older than I. She was a cheerleader, somewhat prudish, as she didn't like people cursing around her. One day, in early spring, she wore a sundress and sandals to school. She'd kicked off her sandals, and propped up her bare feet.
I sat in the seat across the aisle from her, on the inside. Next to me, and directly accross the aisle from Lisa was another boy named Lee. Needless to say, when she propped up her feet, it got my attention. I tried not to gawk, but I couldn't help myself. I probably drooled over her soles. But alas, my friend Lee sat between Lisa and me.
As I looked at Lisa's feet, another boy who was sitting directly behind Lee reached out and began tickling Lisa's sweet looking soles. I watched as Lisa smiled and squinted her eyes. It wasn't a few seconds until Lee joined in. With a set of fingers on each sole, Lisa began giggling. Even though she was ticklish, she didn't move her feet, except maybe to scrunch her soles. The two boys kept tickling, and Lisa kept giggling, until finally, she couldn't take it any more, and folded her legs under herself.
She laughed at the whole event, but didn't put her bare feet back out. I kept watching, hoping that she would, especially after Lee got off the bus. But she never did. Before the bus ride was over, she'd put her sandals back on, and put her feet on the floor. That happened probably twenty years ago, and I still remember it like it was yesterday.
Probably the first time I ever did any tickling, other than surprise goosing of course, was when I was about 15. I had a friend named Melissa. I had a crush on Melissa, but, at 15, I was cursed with being the boy that all the pretty girls only wanted to be friends with. With that gripe being made, I'll continue. I was at Melissa's house. We sat in the basement with her parents upstairs. They'd come downstairs and check on us every once in a while to make sure we both still had our clothes on. We sat, watching television when I got the urge to goose her.
"What?" she asked. I couldn't believe it. Not one bit of a jump.
"You're not goosey," I said in surprise.
"Nope, I'm not one bit ticklish."
"Nowhere?" I asked.
"Nope." she said.
"Not your ribs? Underarms? Feet?" With each named body part, she shook her head.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"I bet I could make you laugh."
"No you can't," she said.
I had ten dollars in my pocket that I'd earned that day from mowing a yard. "I'll bet you ten dollars that I can get you to laugh in ten minutes."
She stuck out her hand to shake, and the bet was on. I told her to put her feet up where I could see them. She kicked off her flip-flops and put her feet on my lap. I began my attack. She had very pretty feet, but her soles were a bit tough from walking barefoot like she did. From everything I could tell, she was right. I worked on her arches and the balls of her feet, and she didn't so much as squint. After about a minute, she picked up a magazine and pretended to read to taunt me. I looked at the clock, and saw that I had eight more minutes.
In front of us was a coffee table, and on the table I saw a pipe cleaner. I picked it up, and started running it over her soles. I looked at her face, and saw her eyes open wide. I was getting a reaction. I started running the pipe cleaner at the base of her toes. She took a deep breath and bit her lower lip. I could tell, this was tickling her. I kept this up until I only had four more minutes, and at that point, I accidentally ran the pipe cleaner between her toes. I got a slight squeal out of her. "THat wasn't a laugh," she said. "Keep going." I continued running the pipe cleaner between each of her toes, and each time, I watched her squeeze the magazine that she was no longer pretending to read tighter and tighter. Instead of pretending to read, she watched the clock.
She made it to the end of the ten minutes without laughing, so I had to give her the money. While I hated to hand it over, I do have to admit, it was the sweetest ten bucks I'd ever lost. Later that evening, she admitted that it did tickle. "God, no wonder everyone avoids that," she told me. I asked if she wanted to go double or nothing. "No way," she said. "I'll never let you do that again."
Even though I've tickled since then, that sticks out in my mind. I guess it's true. It's never as good as the first time.
It happened on the school bus. One of the girls on the bus was named Lisa. Lisa was a very pretty girl. I'm not sure how old she was, but she was older than I. She was a cheerleader, somewhat prudish, as she didn't like people cursing around her. One day, in early spring, she wore a sundress and sandals to school. She'd kicked off her sandals, and propped up her bare feet.
I sat in the seat across the aisle from her, on the inside. Next to me, and directly accross the aisle from Lisa was another boy named Lee. Needless to say, when she propped up her feet, it got my attention. I tried not to gawk, but I couldn't help myself. I probably drooled over her soles. But alas, my friend Lee sat between Lisa and me.
As I looked at Lisa's feet, another boy who was sitting directly behind Lee reached out and began tickling Lisa's sweet looking soles. I watched as Lisa smiled and squinted her eyes. It wasn't a few seconds until Lee joined in. With a set of fingers on each sole, Lisa began giggling. Even though she was ticklish, she didn't move her feet, except maybe to scrunch her soles. The two boys kept tickling, and Lisa kept giggling, until finally, she couldn't take it any more, and folded her legs under herself.
She laughed at the whole event, but didn't put her bare feet back out. I kept watching, hoping that she would, especially after Lee got off the bus. But she never did. Before the bus ride was over, she'd put her sandals back on, and put her feet on the floor. That happened probably twenty years ago, and I still remember it like it was yesterday.
Probably the first time I ever did any tickling, other than surprise goosing of course, was when I was about 15. I had a friend named Melissa. I had a crush on Melissa, but, at 15, I was cursed with being the boy that all the pretty girls only wanted to be friends with. With that gripe being made, I'll continue. I was at Melissa's house. We sat in the basement with her parents upstairs. They'd come downstairs and check on us every once in a while to make sure we both still had our clothes on. We sat, watching television when I got the urge to goose her.
"What?" she asked. I couldn't believe it. Not one bit of a jump.
"You're not goosey," I said in surprise.
"Nope, I'm not one bit ticklish."
"Nowhere?" I asked.
"Nope." she said.
"Not your ribs? Underarms? Feet?" With each named body part, she shook her head.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"I bet I could make you laugh."
"No you can't," she said.
I had ten dollars in my pocket that I'd earned that day from mowing a yard. "I'll bet you ten dollars that I can get you to laugh in ten minutes."
She stuck out her hand to shake, and the bet was on. I told her to put her feet up where I could see them. She kicked off her flip-flops and put her feet on my lap. I began my attack. She had very pretty feet, but her soles were a bit tough from walking barefoot like she did. From everything I could tell, she was right. I worked on her arches and the balls of her feet, and she didn't so much as squint. After about a minute, she picked up a magazine and pretended to read to taunt me. I looked at the clock, and saw that I had eight more minutes.
In front of us was a coffee table, and on the table I saw a pipe cleaner. I picked it up, and started running it over her soles. I looked at her face, and saw her eyes open wide. I was getting a reaction. I started running the pipe cleaner at the base of her toes. She took a deep breath and bit her lower lip. I could tell, this was tickling her. I kept this up until I only had four more minutes, and at that point, I accidentally ran the pipe cleaner between her toes. I got a slight squeal out of her. "THat wasn't a laugh," she said. "Keep going." I continued running the pipe cleaner between each of her toes, and each time, I watched her squeeze the magazine that she was no longer pretending to read tighter and tighter. Instead of pretending to read, she watched the clock.
She made it to the end of the ten minutes without laughing, so I had to give her the money. While I hated to hand it over, I do have to admit, it was the sweetest ten bucks I'd ever lost. Later that evening, she admitted that it did tickle. "God, no wonder everyone avoids that," she told me. I asked if she wanted to go double or nothing. "No way," she said. "I'll never let you do that again."
Even though I've tickled since then, that sticks out in my mind. I guess it's true. It's never as good as the first time.
