milagros317
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This is an F/m story, with intense domination in addition to FFFF/m tickling. It contains some adult material. If that is not to your taste, then don't read it. All of the characters in this story are over 18 years old.
The Free Ride (F/m)
by Milagros
Part One -- Wednesday, August 28, 2002
---------------------------------------
Harold had been surprised when his former girlfriend, Kelly, offered him a free ride back to college. Both were 20 years old. Both were returning to Little Rock, Arkansas, to begin their junior year at Harding College. Both had spent the summer in Los Angeles, but for different reasons.
Harold had been happy to get a summer job in LA, just to get away from his parents. He lived with them in Little Rock, to save the room and board fees at college. It was a high-paying summer job with a software company. Even paying an outrageous (by his standards) $800 per month for a tiny apartment in Culver City, he had saved $2100 during the summer. Not having to spend any money to get home sounded very good to him. Kelly explained that she had an Exxon credit card that billed to her parents, so he didn't even have to share the cost of gas. And her Aunt Marilyn lived in New Mexico, near the half-way point of their trip, and would be glad to put them up overnight.
Kelly had gone to LA for the summer just because her family lived there, and the same job she had had for the two previous summers was waiting for her--lifeguard at a private golf club, which also had a large swimming pool. She and Harold had gone out for three months--October to December, 2001. They had remained on friendly terms after breaking up. Harold had seemed surprised when she called his cell phone, but had readily agreed to come along for a free ride to Little Rock.
Harold was ready, with his two suitcases and his backpack, on Sepulveda Boulevard when Kelly drove up at exactly 6am, as promised, on Wednesday morning. He dumped his bags into the back seat, and got into the right front seat. Just as Kelly expected, as he greeted her, his eyes turned down to look at her feet. He frowned, also as she had expected.
"I didn't want to tease you by wearing my sandals," she said, "and it's more comfortable to drive in sneakers, anyway."
"You know me too well," said Harold.
---------------------------------------------------
Six hours later, they stopped for a restroom break, and bought gas, ate the sandwiches that Kelly had brought along, and drank some bottled water. Harold offered the take over the driving.
"No offense, Harry," said Kelly, "but I'm the more skilled driver, and I've been making good time. Aunt Marilyn will have a nice dinner waiting for us, and I'll do the driving, just so that we get there on time--I know the way, once we get off I-40."
"OK," said Harold, "it's your car, and you're the boss on this trip. Is your aunt tall, like you?"
"Oh, Harry, you were always so sensitive, that I'm two inches taller than you. That's not why we broke up, and you know it. But to answer your question, yes, my Aunt Marilyn is 5'10", just the same as I am. And my cousins are even taller, but I'm not sure if you'll meet them."
After more than six hours of additional driving, and after another restroom and gas stop, at 6:30pm, they were 20 miles past Albuquerque, New Mexico. Kelly turned onto an exit ramp from Interstate 40.
"We'll be eating a fine dinner soon," she promised.
The exit took them onto a two-lane, numbered state road. Ten minutes and three turns later, they were on a one-lane unpaved road with no street name posted, heading further into the desert. They stayed on this road, with no houses in sight, for another 20 minutes. Finally, Kelly turned into a driveway, and Harold saw a huge, sprawling ranch house, set about 100 yards back from the road.
"Boy, your aunt really likes her privacy," said Harold.
"Yes, she and my late uncle always prized their privacy and self-sufficiency. The house has its own electric generator, and its own wells, although they had to dig deep to get to the water table here. I believe it belonged to his parents, but Marilyn and Uncle Jim enlarged it, and bought more of the surrounding land, to make sure that they wouldn't get any close neighbors."
As they got out of the car, the front door opened, and a woman as tall as Kelly, with the same blonde hair, came out to greet them. She appeared to be in her late 30's, and quite fit.
"Hello," she said, "and welcome. I'm Marilyn, Kelly's mother's sister. You must be Harold."
She extended her hand, which Harold shook. She had a very strong grip. She let his hand go, and hugged her niece. She led them into the house, and then down a hallway into the dining room. There she made more introductions.
"This is my older daughter, Edye, and my younger, Betty. And this is Kelly's friend from college, Harold."
Harold was struck dumb, for two reasons. First of all, he was looking at two Valkyries. Edye was about 6' tall, with fabulous legs, and lovely feet, which Harold could see, as she was wearing shorts and flip-flops. Her sister Betty was at least two inches taller yet, and even more beautiful. Also wearing shorts, and barefoot, her gorgeous legs and very lovely feet were on display, too.
The second reason that Harold was speechless was their ages--clearly in their mid-20's. After having his hand crushed twice, first by Edye's grip and then by Betty's, Harold did manage to say something to Marilyn.
"But you can't be their mother, you're too young!"
All four women laughed at his obvious flattery.
"That's very sweet of you, Harold," said Marilyn, "and flattery is always welcome. But I am, in fact, 45. I did marry Jim Pyne when I was quite young. Edye is 26, and Betty is 24. Please, everybody, sit down now. Dinner is all ready."
------------------------------------
After a hearty dinner, of roast beef, baked potato, and string beans, Marilyn brought out some ice cream. After giving everybody a scoop, she spoke to Kelly.
"You and Harold seem so friendly. But I understand that you used to be more than friends, last fall. And you seem like a nice couple. What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"
"We still like each other, and can be good friends," said Kelly, "but on an intimate level, we just weren't compatible."
Harold blushed, and hope that she would say no more. He kept quiet, knowing that telling her to be silent was the surest way to make Kelly talk. But she went on anyway.
"Harry is really into women's feet. I loved having him massage my feet, and when he kissed them, I felt silly, but I didn't mind it. But he always wanted to _lick_ my feet, especially the soles. Yuck! I just couldn't abide it."
Harold blushed even more, turning bright red.
"No need to be embarrassed, Harry," said Betty, "it's attention that I would welcome."
Her mother and sister turned to stare at her.
"Don't knock it if you haven't tried it," said Betty. "I always had George give my feet a _long_ tongue bath before I'd let him into bed with me. I loved it. But he didn't, and maybe that's one of the reasons he broke it off with me. I thought you were staring at my bare feet before, Harry. I sure gave you a free show. Do you have an older brother?" She smiled at him.
Harry, more relaxed again, was flattered that the stunning Betty was flirting with him.
"No, Betty, I'm an only child. But that George was one big idiot, in my opinion."
"So that's why Harry broke up with you, because you wouldn't indulge him?" asked Edye.
"No, no," said Kelly. "In fact, when I was ready to dump him, he promised me never to slobber all over my feet again, to be content with just massaging them, and giving them dry kisses. So we stayed together an extra month. We broke up because _he_ wouldn't indulge _me_."
"Oh, my," said Edye, "and just what kink do you practice, little cousin?"
"Oh, nothing extraordinary. I just like to tickle."
"But you're not ticklish," said Betty. "We tried often enough when we were kids."
"That's right," said Kelly, "I'm not. But I said 'tickle,' not 'be tickled.' I just _love_ to tickle men. I just can't get enough of it. Not just for a few seconds, for 5 or 10 minutes, until they're laughing so hard that they can't breathe. Then I stop, and hug them, and, then, well, ..."
"We get the idea," said Betty, "no graphic details are necessary."
"And are you ticklish, Harry?" asked Marilyn, looking at him with sympathy.
"Oh God, yes," said Harry, "I'm extremely ticklish, just dreadfully ticklish. I shriek and howl when somebody pokes my ribs, and go absolutely nuts if they can get underneath my arms. I can't bear it, I just can't. I tried to endure it for Kelly's sake, but it was impossible. It's just torture for me. Torture on my ribs, and worse torture in my armpits. I just dread even the thought of being tickled."
"So your armpits are your most ticklish spot, Harry?" asked Edye.
Harry didn't answer, getting a little uneasy, but Kelly answered for him.
"Oh, no," said Kelly, "it's his feet. He never goes barefoot, not even indoors. He never wears sandals. He always wears slippers, just to walk in his own bedroom. Outdoors, he always wears socks with his shoes or sneakers. So his feet are very sensitive. He is _so_ ticklish on his soles, and his toes, I could hardly believe it, the first time that I got him there. That day, it was just after we made love. I sat on his shins, and he couldn't dislodge me. I pulled his toes back with one hand, and scraped his sole with the nails of the other. He was begging me to stop in ten seconds. In ten minutes, he was speechless, laughing so hard that tears ran down his cheeks, and gasping for air. I just switched feet, and got his other foot for ten minutes more, and then switched back. Poor Harry! I tickled him senseless--about 40 minutes, until he actually fainted. Poor, ticklish Harry. So very, very ticklish. I got him good and proper, that day."
By the time Kelly finished her story, the Pyne women were all looking at Harold with a gleam in their eyes. He was quite uneasy.
"Well, I can only say that I've been very happy since last December. In part because nobody has tickled me since then, and that's the way it will stay."
"Yes, Harry, I wish the best for you," said Kelly. "I hope that you find a woman who loves having her feet worshipped, but has no interest in tickling."
At that kind statement, Harold calmed down again, and said "I wish the best for you, Kelly. I hope that you find a guy that you like, who just loves to be tickled."
"Now I can see why you two are good friends, but only that," said Marilyn, finishing her ice cream.
"If you want to get an early start driving, you should probably turn in now," she added.
Harold was shown to a guest room, down a long hallway. Marilyn explained that it was the only guest room with its own bathroom, for his privacy. It was a large room, but with very little furniture. Just a narrow single bed, with a sturdy brass frame, and a small desk, with one chair, near the window, where an air-conditioner was already functioning. Nothing else, no dresser, not even a bedside table. It did have a door leading to a full bathroom. He put his clothes and wallet on the desk, and set his wristwatch alarm for 6am. He'd been told that breakfast would be ready at 6:30, and he wanted to shower first. He fell asleep by 11pm.
[to be continued in this thread]
The Free Ride (F/m)
by Milagros
Part One -- Wednesday, August 28, 2002
---------------------------------------
Harold had been surprised when his former girlfriend, Kelly, offered him a free ride back to college. Both were 20 years old. Both were returning to Little Rock, Arkansas, to begin their junior year at Harding College. Both had spent the summer in Los Angeles, but for different reasons.
Harold had been happy to get a summer job in LA, just to get away from his parents. He lived with them in Little Rock, to save the room and board fees at college. It was a high-paying summer job with a software company. Even paying an outrageous (by his standards) $800 per month for a tiny apartment in Culver City, he had saved $2100 during the summer. Not having to spend any money to get home sounded very good to him. Kelly explained that she had an Exxon credit card that billed to her parents, so he didn't even have to share the cost of gas. And her Aunt Marilyn lived in New Mexico, near the half-way point of their trip, and would be glad to put them up overnight.
Kelly had gone to LA for the summer just because her family lived there, and the same job she had had for the two previous summers was waiting for her--lifeguard at a private golf club, which also had a large swimming pool. She and Harold had gone out for three months--October to December, 2001. They had remained on friendly terms after breaking up. Harold had seemed surprised when she called his cell phone, but had readily agreed to come along for a free ride to Little Rock.
Harold was ready, with his two suitcases and his backpack, on Sepulveda Boulevard when Kelly drove up at exactly 6am, as promised, on Wednesday morning. He dumped his bags into the back seat, and got into the right front seat. Just as Kelly expected, as he greeted her, his eyes turned down to look at her feet. He frowned, also as she had expected.
"I didn't want to tease you by wearing my sandals," she said, "and it's more comfortable to drive in sneakers, anyway."
"You know me too well," said Harold.
---------------------------------------------------
Six hours later, they stopped for a restroom break, and bought gas, ate the sandwiches that Kelly had brought along, and drank some bottled water. Harold offered the take over the driving.
"No offense, Harry," said Kelly, "but I'm the more skilled driver, and I've been making good time. Aunt Marilyn will have a nice dinner waiting for us, and I'll do the driving, just so that we get there on time--I know the way, once we get off I-40."
"OK," said Harold, "it's your car, and you're the boss on this trip. Is your aunt tall, like you?"
"Oh, Harry, you were always so sensitive, that I'm two inches taller than you. That's not why we broke up, and you know it. But to answer your question, yes, my Aunt Marilyn is 5'10", just the same as I am. And my cousins are even taller, but I'm not sure if you'll meet them."
After more than six hours of additional driving, and after another restroom and gas stop, at 6:30pm, they were 20 miles past Albuquerque, New Mexico. Kelly turned onto an exit ramp from Interstate 40.
"We'll be eating a fine dinner soon," she promised.
The exit took them onto a two-lane, numbered state road. Ten minutes and three turns later, they were on a one-lane unpaved road with no street name posted, heading further into the desert. They stayed on this road, with no houses in sight, for another 20 minutes. Finally, Kelly turned into a driveway, and Harold saw a huge, sprawling ranch house, set about 100 yards back from the road.
"Boy, your aunt really likes her privacy," said Harold.
"Yes, she and my late uncle always prized their privacy and self-sufficiency. The house has its own electric generator, and its own wells, although they had to dig deep to get to the water table here. I believe it belonged to his parents, but Marilyn and Uncle Jim enlarged it, and bought more of the surrounding land, to make sure that they wouldn't get any close neighbors."
As they got out of the car, the front door opened, and a woman as tall as Kelly, with the same blonde hair, came out to greet them. She appeared to be in her late 30's, and quite fit.
"Hello," she said, "and welcome. I'm Marilyn, Kelly's mother's sister. You must be Harold."
She extended her hand, which Harold shook. She had a very strong grip. She let his hand go, and hugged her niece. She led them into the house, and then down a hallway into the dining room. There she made more introductions.
"This is my older daughter, Edye, and my younger, Betty. And this is Kelly's friend from college, Harold."
Harold was struck dumb, for two reasons. First of all, he was looking at two Valkyries. Edye was about 6' tall, with fabulous legs, and lovely feet, which Harold could see, as she was wearing shorts and flip-flops. Her sister Betty was at least two inches taller yet, and even more beautiful. Also wearing shorts, and barefoot, her gorgeous legs and very lovely feet were on display, too.
The second reason that Harold was speechless was their ages--clearly in their mid-20's. After having his hand crushed twice, first by Edye's grip and then by Betty's, Harold did manage to say something to Marilyn.
"But you can't be their mother, you're too young!"
All four women laughed at his obvious flattery.
"That's very sweet of you, Harold," said Marilyn, "and flattery is always welcome. But I am, in fact, 45. I did marry Jim Pyne when I was quite young. Edye is 26, and Betty is 24. Please, everybody, sit down now. Dinner is all ready."
------------------------------------
After a hearty dinner, of roast beef, baked potato, and string beans, Marilyn brought out some ice cream. After giving everybody a scoop, she spoke to Kelly.
"You and Harold seem so friendly. But I understand that you used to be more than friends, last fall. And you seem like a nice couple. What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"
"We still like each other, and can be good friends," said Kelly, "but on an intimate level, we just weren't compatible."
Harold blushed, and hope that she would say no more. He kept quiet, knowing that telling her to be silent was the surest way to make Kelly talk. But she went on anyway.
"Harry is really into women's feet. I loved having him massage my feet, and when he kissed them, I felt silly, but I didn't mind it. But he always wanted to _lick_ my feet, especially the soles. Yuck! I just couldn't abide it."
Harold blushed even more, turning bright red.
"No need to be embarrassed, Harry," said Betty, "it's attention that I would welcome."
Her mother and sister turned to stare at her.
"Don't knock it if you haven't tried it," said Betty. "I always had George give my feet a _long_ tongue bath before I'd let him into bed with me. I loved it. But he didn't, and maybe that's one of the reasons he broke it off with me. I thought you were staring at my bare feet before, Harry. I sure gave you a free show. Do you have an older brother?" She smiled at him.
Harry, more relaxed again, was flattered that the stunning Betty was flirting with him.
"No, Betty, I'm an only child. But that George was one big idiot, in my opinion."
"So that's why Harry broke up with you, because you wouldn't indulge him?" asked Edye.
"No, no," said Kelly. "In fact, when I was ready to dump him, he promised me never to slobber all over my feet again, to be content with just massaging them, and giving them dry kisses. So we stayed together an extra month. We broke up because _he_ wouldn't indulge _me_."
"Oh, my," said Edye, "and just what kink do you practice, little cousin?"
"Oh, nothing extraordinary. I just like to tickle."
"But you're not ticklish," said Betty. "We tried often enough when we were kids."
"That's right," said Kelly, "I'm not. But I said 'tickle,' not 'be tickled.' I just _love_ to tickle men. I just can't get enough of it. Not just for a few seconds, for 5 or 10 minutes, until they're laughing so hard that they can't breathe. Then I stop, and hug them, and, then, well, ..."
"We get the idea," said Betty, "no graphic details are necessary."
"And are you ticklish, Harry?" asked Marilyn, looking at him with sympathy.
"Oh God, yes," said Harry, "I'm extremely ticklish, just dreadfully ticklish. I shriek and howl when somebody pokes my ribs, and go absolutely nuts if they can get underneath my arms. I can't bear it, I just can't. I tried to endure it for Kelly's sake, but it was impossible. It's just torture for me. Torture on my ribs, and worse torture in my armpits. I just dread even the thought of being tickled."
"So your armpits are your most ticklish spot, Harry?" asked Edye.
Harry didn't answer, getting a little uneasy, but Kelly answered for him.
"Oh, no," said Kelly, "it's his feet. He never goes barefoot, not even indoors. He never wears sandals. He always wears slippers, just to walk in his own bedroom. Outdoors, he always wears socks with his shoes or sneakers. So his feet are very sensitive. He is _so_ ticklish on his soles, and his toes, I could hardly believe it, the first time that I got him there. That day, it was just after we made love. I sat on his shins, and he couldn't dislodge me. I pulled his toes back with one hand, and scraped his sole with the nails of the other. He was begging me to stop in ten seconds. In ten minutes, he was speechless, laughing so hard that tears ran down his cheeks, and gasping for air. I just switched feet, and got his other foot for ten minutes more, and then switched back. Poor Harry! I tickled him senseless--about 40 minutes, until he actually fainted. Poor, ticklish Harry. So very, very ticklish. I got him good and proper, that day."
By the time Kelly finished her story, the Pyne women were all looking at Harold with a gleam in their eyes. He was quite uneasy.
"Well, I can only say that I've been very happy since last December. In part because nobody has tickled me since then, and that's the way it will stay."
"Yes, Harry, I wish the best for you," said Kelly. "I hope that you find a woman who loves having her feet worshipped, but has no interest in tickling."
At that kind statement, Harold calmed down again, and said "I wish the best for you, Kelly. I hope that you find a guy that you like, who just loves to be tickled."
"Now I can see why you two are good friends, but only that," said Marilyn, finishing her ice cream.
"If you want to get an early start driving, you should probably turn in now," she added.
Harold was shown to a guest room, down a long hallway. Marilyn explained that it was the only guest room with its own bathroom, for his privacy. It was a large room, but with very little furniture. Just a narrow single bed, with a sturdy brass frame, and a small desk, with one chair, near the window, where an air-conditioner was already functioning. Nothing else, no dresser, not even a bedside table. It did have a door leading to a full bathroom. He put his clothes and wallet on the desk, and set his wristwatch alarm for 6am. He'd been told that breakfast would be ready at 6:30, and he wanted to shower first. He fell asleep by 11pm.
[to be continued in this thread]
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