kopfhorer1
1st Level Orange Feather
- Joined
- Oct 11, 2005
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When we last left our hero, his ankles were strapped down to the footstool shelf of a recliner chair. His feet are being gently but diligently tickled by Tammy with a wet artist’s paint brush as we begin today’s episode...
Tammy kept up her brush play upon the soles of my feet for what seemed like an eternity. She played the tip of the wet paintbrush across my soles ever so gently, so that its tip didn’t flatten but remained pointed and exquisite, sort of like a feather but concentrated upon one tiny region of my skin. The brush point almost felt hot to me. She slowly drew circles and arabesques around the balls of my feet, my insteps, my heels and over each one of my toes. I was laughing so much that my ribs were starting to ache and I was feeling out of breath. I was about to invoke our safe-word, when I guess Tammy sensed that I’d had enough. She drew the brush down the sole of my left foot from toe to heel one last time, and then withdrew it, depositing it back into the jar of water from which she’d taken it. Then she reached over to her bureau and got a clean, white hand towel, with which she proceeded to wipe off my feet.. The soft cotton felt so good as she dried off first my soles, then between my toes. I figured that was probably it, until she produced a small plastic bottle from the bureau where she kept the brushes. It turned out to contain very lightly musk-scented massage oil. She poured a bit of it into her left hand, then worked it into both palms before going at my feet again, this time to give me a long, sensuous foot rub. I have to say one thing for Tammy, she never does anything halfway! All I expected was a brief tickle session, not the royal treatment which she was now lavishing upon me! Her thumbs kneaded the instep of each foot, then the heels, then the forefoot, the ball of each foot and then each toe, one by one. Finally, she gently crunched both feet taking one in each hand, slowly wiping her thumb across each arch again and again. By this time I was becoming so relaxed that I thought I would fall asleep.
Which I guess is what I did, because when I awoke it was early evening. The white sunlight which had filtered through the windows earlier on had given way to peach-colored sunset hues. I could hear birds chattering away outside the window. The safety strap which had held down my ankles during the tickling session was gone. Tammy was in the other chair watching television on a 21-inch color console in front of the sofa at the other end of the room. As the post-awakening fog cleared from my head, I operated the lever on the side of the recliner I’d been sitting in and righted the chair. I got up and walked over to the couch and sat down next to Tammy.
“What’cha watching?” I asked her, before recognizing John Cleese on the screen and realizing she was watching the Silly Walks episode of Monty Python, one of my favorites. “Sorry I zonked out on you” I said. “Don’t worry,” she replied, “I was getting a little tired myself, so I decided to just turn on the tube and relax.” We both stared at the screen until the closing credits rolled. “That was fantastic, Tammy!” I said. “Glad you liked it” she replied. We looked into each others’ eyes, then kissed, nothing passionate, just a little peck on the lips. “How long have you been into tickling, Tammy?” I inquired. “Oh, since high school” she replied. “It started in the second semester of my senior year, purely by accident too. I was in the girl’s locker room with this classmate of mine, what’s her name? I think it was Jennifer. Anyhow, Jennifer could be a real jerk sometimes, starting arguments about nothing in particular. I think she liked provoking people just to see how they’d react. Well, she sure found out how I reacted! One day as we were both getting dressed and ready to go back to class from phys ed, she starts getting on my case about I don’t even remember what, she was just yammering on at me, a mile a minute. I was getting dressed, sitting next to her on the same bench. I was trying to think of what I could do to shut her up when suddenly, she put her right foot up on the bench and got ready to put on her right shoe. I grabbed her ankle with one hand and started ticking her foot for all it was worth with my other. Damn, but that girl was loud! The way she carried on you’d have thought I was killing her! I think I stopped after 30 seconds or so, and then pulled back. She didn’t say anything, she just looked at me and kind of smiled. Then she put her shoes on and flew on out of there.
“Then there was my first steady boyfriend in college. One afternoon we were just lying around his dorm room on his bed, he with his head on the pillow reading a textbook, me with my head at the foot of his bed reading the campus newspaper. He was wearing new white gym socks. I kind of reached over and casually tickled his stocking foot. He turned out to be pretty sensitive. He let out a pretty spirited chuckle. The next time we got togther he asked if I’d please tickle his feet again. It seemed kind of odd to me at the time, but he assured me he wasn’t going to do anything weird to me, and strangely enough I felt like I really wanted to do it. So I sat down at the foot of his dorm bed with him lying face-up on it and gave him a good tickling. Not quite the same as what I gave you today, but as good as I could do with just the fingers of one hand while holding down his feet on my lap. He’d laugh, chortle, snicker and giggle his fool head off, then I’d stop and we’d make out for a while. Funny, but lots of times it seemed like he didn’t even care about getting laid as long as he got tickled!” I looked her in the eyes. We both smiled.
Be sure to tune in for our next thrilling episode!
Tammy kept up her brush play upon the soles of my feet for what seemed like an eternity. She played the tip of the wet paintbrush across my soles ever so gently, so that its tip didn’t flatten but remained pointed and exquisite, sort of like a feather but concentrated upon one tiny region of my skin. The brush point almost felt hot to me. She slowly drew circles and arabesques around the balls of my feet, my insteps, my heels and over each one of my toes. I was laughing so much that my ribs were starting to ache and I was feeling out of breath. I was about to invoke our safe-word, when I guess Tammy sensed that I’d had enough. She drew the brush down the sole of my left foot from toe to heel one last time, and then withdrew it, depositing it back into the jar of water from which she’d taken it. Then she reached over to her bureau and got a clean, white hand towel, with which she proceeded to wipe off my feet.. The soft cotton felt so good as she dried off first my soles, then between my toes. I figured that was probably it, until she produced a small plastic bottle from the bureau where she kept the brushes. It turned out to contain very lightly musk-scented massage oil. She poured a bit of it into her left hand, then worked it into both palms before going at my feet again, this time to give me a long, sensuous foot rub. I have to say one thing for Tammy, she never does anything halfway! All I expected was a brief tickle session, not the royal treatment which she was now lavishing upon me! Her thumbs kneaded the instep of each foot, then the heels, then the forefoot, the ball of each foot and then each toe, one by one. Finally, she gently crunched both feet taking one in each hand, slowly wiping her thumb across each arch again and again. By this time I was becoming so relaxed that I thought I would fall asleep.
Which I guess is what I did, because when I awoke it was early evening. The white sunlight which had filtered through the windows earlier on had given way to peach-colored sunset hues. I could hear birds chattering away outside the window. The safety strap which had held down my ankles during the tickling session was gone. Tammy was in the other chair watching television on a 21-inch color console in front of the sofa at the other end of the room. As the post-awakening fog cleared from my head, I operated the lever on the side of the recliner I’d been sitting in and righted the chair. I got up and walked over to the couch and sat down next to Tammy.
“What’cha watching?” I asked her, before recognizing John Cleese on the screen and realizing she was watching the Silly Walks episode of Monty Python, one of my favorites. “Sorry I zonked out on you” I said. “Don’t worry,” she replied, “I was getting a little tired myself, so I decided to just turn on the tube and relax.” We both stared at the screen until the closing credits rolled. “That was fantastic, Tammy!” I said. “Glad you liked it” she replied. We looked into each others’ eyes, then kissed, nothing passionate, just a little peck on the lips. “How long have you been into tickling, Tammy?” I inquired. “Oh, since high school” she replied. “It started in the second semester of my senior year, purely by accident too. I was in the girl’s locker room with this classmate of mine, what’s her name? I think it was Jennifer. Anyhow, Jennifer could be a real jerk sometimes, starting arguments about nothing in particular. I think she liked provoking people just to see how they’d react. Well, she sure found out how I reacted! One day as we were both getting dressed and ready to go back to class from phys ed, she starts getting on my case about I don’t even remember what, she was just yammering on at me, a mile a minute. I was getting dressed, sitting next to her on the same bench. I was trying to think of what I could do to shut her up when suddenly, she put her right foot up on the bench and got ready to put on her right shoe. I grabbed her ankle with one hand and started ticking her foot for all it was worth with my other. Damn, but that girl was loud! The way she carried on you’d have thought I was killing her! I think I stopped after 30 seconds or so, and then pulled back. She didn’t say anything, she just looked at me and kind of smiled. Then she put her shoes on and flew on out of there.
“Then there was my first steady boyfriend in college. One afternoon we were just lying around his dorm room on his bed, he with his head on the pillow reading a textbook, me with my head at the foot of his bed reading the campus newspaper. He was wearing new white gym socks. I kind of reached over and casually tickled his stocking foot. He turned out to be pretty sensitive. He let out a pretty spirited chuckle. The next time we got togther he asked if I’d please tickle his feet again. It seemed kind of odd to me at the time, but he assured me he wasn’t going to do anything weird to me, and strangely enough I felt like I really wanted to do it. So I sat down at the foot of his dorm bed with him lying face-up on it and gave him a good tickling. Not quite the same as what I gave you today, but as good as I could do with just the fingers of one hand while holding down his feet on my lap. He’d laugh, chortle, snicker and giggle his fool head off, then I’d stop and we’d make out for a while. Funny, but lots of times it seemed like he didn’t even care about getting laid as long as he got tickled!” I looked her in the eyes. We both smiled.
Be sure to tune in for our next thrilling episode!
