So I'm watching the baseball game the other night and this commercial comes on. This sexy looking black lady dressed in a business suit and high heel pumps comes walking across the tarmac pulling her suitcase behind her.
(The sound of those clicking heels was enough to get my attention)
Suddenly she stops and one hand goes to her eye. Contact lens problems?
The scene changes and you see her going through the door of a restroom.
Scene changes and shes standing in front of a mirror. You see her eyes roll upward and then a look of relief on her face. She has fixed her contact problem.
Suddenly the sound of a urinal flushing brings a look of confusion on her face. A man walks up and looks at her. (Now my sick mind kicks in) Several other men gather around her. One remarks "I'm about tired of this womens lib thing. A mans restroom should stay a mans restroom". Others chime in with their comments. "Let's teach her a lesson", another shouts.
With that, they grab her and lay her on the counter. As the one at her head pulls her arms up over her head, her suit jacket rides up as well as the blouse, causing it to come out of her skirt, exposing her stomach and ribs. "No, wait, please!!", she cries. It's too late though, another man has begun to tweak her ribs. She begans laughing and squirming. "Someone get hold of her feet", another yells. (Now this would be me) I wrap my arms around her ankles and lay across them. Her pumps slide off so very easily due to the silky sheer pantyhose she's wearing. She has long feet and toes. I can see her red painted toe nails through the reinforced toe. I tickle just beneath the toes on her left foot and see her toes curl down in an effort to protect the ticklish area. I also hear her laughter increase by several octaves. Her right foot moves over in an effort to protect it's sister foot. I tickle that sole quickly. As before the left comes to it's aid. Back and forth, I quickly tickle, watching her feet work into a frenzy of steady marching.
I feel something press against my back and hear her shriek with ticklish laughter. I see her legs straighten out and realize one of my brothers is squeezing her knees. The poor woman is laughing and begging for us to stop. Another comes to my aid and takes the task of helping me tickle her feet. He holds her toes back and produces a set of keys. He begins to rake them up and down her soles as I hold her ankles.
I twist around and look back and the rib tickler has unbuttoned her jacket and blouse and has both hands buried in the hollows of her armpits. Her head is trashing back and forth as laughter pours out of her mouth. The knee squeezer has hiked her skirt up to her waist and is spider walking his fingers along the tops of her thighs, then poking them down the crease where her legs and lower torso meet.
"Allright guys, she's had enough", someone says. We let her up. She's a complete disheveled mess. Tear stained mascara running down her cheeks. I can see the runs in the bottoms of her nylon clad feet that my foot tickling brother donated. We help her sit up. She's still giggling slightly. Shaking a little bit. I kneel and pick up her heels and hand them to her. Strangly enough she thanks me. She slips them on and we help her down from the counter.
(hmmmm....I'm kind of at a loss here on how to finish this little fantasy)
(The sound of those clicking heels was enough to get my attention)
Suddenly she stops and one hand goes to her eye. Contact lens problems?
The scene changes and you see her going through the door of a restroom.
Scene changes and shes standing in front of a mirror. You see her eyes roll upward and then a look of relief on her face. She has fixed her contact problem.
Suddenly the sound of a urinal flushing brings a look of confusion on her face. A man walks up and looks at her. (Now my sick mind kicks in) Several other men gather around her. One remarks "I'm about tired of this womens lib thing. A mans restroom should stay a mans restroom". Others chime in with their comments. "Let's teach her a lesson", another shouts.
With that, they grab her and lay her on the counter. As the one at her head pulls her arms up over her head, her suit jacket rides up as well as the blouse, causing it to come out of her skirt, exposing her stomach and ribs. "No, wait, please!!", she cries. It's too late though, another man has begun to tweak her ribs. She begans laughing and squirming. "Someone get hold of her feet", another yells. (Now this would be me) I wrap my arms around her ankles and lay across them. Her pumps slide off so very easily due to the silky sheer pantyhose she's wearing. She has long feet and toes. I can see her red painted toe nails through the reinforced toe. I tickle just beneath the toes on her left foot and see her toes curl down in an effort to protect the ticklish area. I also hear her laughter increase by several octaves. Her right foot moves over in an effort to protect it's sister foot. I tickle that sole quickly. As before the left comes to it's aid. Back and forth, I quickly tickle, watching her feet work into a frenzy of steady marching.
I feel something press against my back and hear her shriek with ticklish laughter. I see her legs straighten out and realize one of my brothers is squeezing her knees. The poor woman is laughing and begging for us to stop. Another comes to my aid and takes the task of helping me tickle her feet. He holds her toes back and produces a set of keys. He begins to rake them up and down her soles as I hold her ankles.
I twist around and look back and the rib tickler has unbuttoned her jacket and blouse and has both hands buried in the hollows of her armpits. Her head is trashing back and forth as laughter pours out of her mouth. The knee squeezer has hiked her skirt up to her waist and is spider walking his fingers along the tops of her thighs, then poking them down the crease where her legs and lower torso meet.
"Allright guys, she's had enough", someone says. We let her up. She's a complete disheveled mess. Tear stained mascara running down her cheeks. I can see the runs in the bottoms of her nylon clad feet that my foot tickling brother donated. We help her sit up. She's still giggling slightly. Shaking a little bit. I kneel and pick up her heels and hand them to her. Strangly enough she thanks me. She slips them on and we help her down from the counter.
(hmmmm....I'm kind of at a loss here on how to finish this little fantasy)
