To Tell A Lie
By: Barlow
Chapter 1:
Kris sat in the sand, rubbing her feet together. The year was 1993 and she was having the time of her life. She was 18 and was spending spring break in Florida with her college friends. They were all out playing volleyball, but Kris was content to sit under a beach umbrella sipping a fuzzy navel. You see, Kris is a very thin, petite, fair skinned woman and would easily burn in the hot Florida sun. Her father was from Mexico and her mother was of French descent, and Kris shared characteristics from both her parents. She inherited her mother’s fair skin and delicate features, and she had inherited her fantastic, jet-black hair and brown eyes from her father’s family. As she sat, shielded from the sun, her fairly new college friend, Jeff, walked over to her. “Hey, Kris,” he said, “Me and Tom are heading over to the tourist shops, wanna come with us?” “Sure,” she replied. And they were off. As Kris stood up and slipped on her thong sandals, she marveled at how cute her outfit was, a two-piece brightly colored bikini with matching sandals and a large (actually too large) beach hat. She would have to wear her sandals because her feet were way too sensitive to walk on any pavement without them; her feet were just too soft and delicate.
The trio walked up and down the strip, laughing and having fun, until they happened upon a quaint little souvenir shop. The shop was setup on very short stilts, with a wooden ramp that led up to the open front door from the beach. There were also large, open windows with the drapes rolled up. Kris thought the little shop was cute, so they went in to look around. Now, unbeknownst to Kris, Jeff had been nursing a serious crush on her the entire trip and was looking for any way to get Kris’s attention. “Hey, come sit down with me,” Chris said, sitting on a wooden chair that was next to one of the huge windows. “OK,” replied Kris and she sat down in the chair next to him. In a swift move, Jeff grabbed Kris’s left ankle and pulled her foot into his lap while simultaneously knocking her loose sandal to the floor. Kris was startled, but Jeff had her ankle in a firm grasp. He said, “I think you’ll like this.” Jeff took a tube of massage lotion off of a shelf and, as Tom watched, poured a little of it on Kris’s now bare foot. The lotion poured over her dark red painted toenails and down her porcelain foot and she gasped. Then Jeff began to clumsily knead the ball of her foot. Kris gritted her teeth from the sensation, the slight, electric tickles shooting up her leg. Then Jeff inadvertently brushed one nail against her now pink sole. “AAAAAYEEEEEEE!” she yelled and jerked her slick, lotion-covered foot out of Jeff’s hands with a force that shocked him. “Are you ticklish?” he said with an evil grin. “NO!” She yelled back at him as Tom, who was now behind her gave her a quick goose in her bare ribs. Kris yelled again, jumped up out of the chair, and Jeff said, “Grab her arms, let’s get her!” Now Kris was in trouble. She was only 5’5” and 105 lbs., while Jeff and Tom each were over six feet tall and 200 lbs. Tom held both of her arms over her head as Jeff poked her in the ribs and she laughed like a hyena. “HAHAHAHA OOOOOOOOONOOOOOO!” she yelled as he made his way up her ribcage. She thrashed around like a wild animal and knocked over a postcard stand. Then Jeff made his hands into the shape of lobster claws and viciously tickled her smooth underarms. “AAAAAHHHHHHH,” she yelled and lunged away from the tickling hands with such force that Jeff lost his grip and she flew out the open window, into the sand below. A crowd of people quickly gathered around her and a beach cop approached her. “Ma’am, are you OK?” the officer asked her. “Yes, it just knocked the wind out of me.” She said. The officer helped her up and chastised her for the horseplay. But Kris wasn’t paying attention to the cop. She was thinking about how she had never really been tickled before, and how she now knew that she was absolutely, unbearably ticklish.
End of Chapter One
To be continued….
By: Barlow
Chapter 1:
Kris sat in the sand, rubbing her feet together. The year was 1993 and she was having the time of her life. She was 18 and was spending spring break in Florida with her college friends. They were all out playing volleyball, but Kris was content to sit under a beach umbrella sipping a fuzzy navel. You see, Kris is a very thin, petite, fair skinned woman and would easily burn in the hot Florida sun. Her father was from Mexico and her mother was of French descent, and Kris shared characteristics from both her parents. She inherited her mother’s fair skin and delicate features, and she had inherited her fantastic, jet-black hair and brown eyes from her father’s family. As she sat, shielded from the sun, her fairly new college friend, Jeff, walked over to her. “Hey, Kris,” he said, “Me and Tom are heading over to the tourist shops, wanna come with us?” “Sure,” she replied. And they were off. As Kris stood up and slipped on her thong sandals, she marveled at how cute her outfit was, a two-piece brightly colored bikini with matching sandals and a large (actually too large) beach hat. She would have to wear her sandals because her feet were way too sensitive to walk on any pavement without them; her feet were just too soft and delicate.
The trio walked up and down the strip, laughing and having fun, until they happened upon a quaint little souvenir shop. The shop was setup on very short stilts, with a wooden ramp that led up to the open front door from the beach. There were also large, open windows with the drapes rolled up. Kris thought the little shop was cute, so they went in to look around. Now, unbeknownst to Kris, Jeff had been nursing a serious crush on her the entire trip and was looking for any way to get Kris’s attention. “Hey, come sit down with me,” Chris said, sitting on a wooden chair that was next to one of the huge windows. “OK,” replied Kris and she sat down in the chair next to him. In a swift move, Jeff grabbed Kris’s left ankle and pulled her foot into his lap while simultaneously knocking her loose sandal to the floor. Kris was startled, but Jeff had her ankle in a firm grasp. He said, “I think you’ll like this.” Jeff took a tube of massage lotion off of a shelf and, as Tom watched, poured a little of it on Kris’s now bare foot. The lotion poured over her dark red painted toenails and down her porcelain foot and she gasped. Then Jeff began to clumsily knead the ball of her foot. Kris gritted her teeth from the sensation, the slight, electric tickles shooting up her leg. Then Jeff inadvertently brushed one nail against her now pink sole. “AAAAAYEEEEEEE!” she yelled and jerked her slick, lotion-covered foot out of Jeff’s hands with a force that shocked him. “Are you ticklish?” he said with an evil grin. “NO!” She yelled back at him as Tom, who was now behind her gave her a quick goose in her bare ribs. Kris yelled again, jumped up out of the chair, and Jeff said, “Grab her arms, let’s get her!” Now Kris was in trouble. She was only 5’5” and 105 lbs., while Jeff and Tom each were over six feet tall and 200 lbs. Tom held both of her arms over her head as Jeff poked her in the ribs and she laughed like a hyena. “HAHAHAHA OOOOOOOOONOOOOOO!” she yelled as he made his way up her ribcage. She thrashed around like a wild animal and knocked over a postcard stand. Then Jeff made his hands into the shape of lobster claws and viciously tickled her smooth underarms. “AAAAAHHHHHHH,” she yelled and lunged away from the tickling hands with such force that Jeff lost his grip and she flew out the open window, into the sand below. A crowd of people quickly gathered around her and a beach cop approached her. “Ma’am, are you OK?” the officer asked her. “Yes, it just knocked the wind out of me.” She said. The officer helped her up and chastised her for the horseplay. But Kris wasn’t paying attention to the cop. She was thinking about how she had never really been tickled before, and how she now knew that she was absolutely, unbearably ticklish.
End of Chapter One
To be continued….
