Last night my wife had a dinner party for her ladies’ group. I’m not really sure what the hell they do, but they do it for about 3 hours one Tuesday a month. Anyway, she had all 22 of them over to our house for a holiday party.
For starters, there were 23 thirty-something women in my house in socks and nylons. Unfortunately, I had agreed to take my daughters out to dinner to get them out of the women’s hair. When we got back, I put them to bed and made my way to my basement lair to watch some TV after mingling a little and checking out the holiday toes. There was nothing terribly exciting, but a couple of nicely painted toes in nylons caught my attention. I spent the next two or three hours watching TV by myself.
At about 11:00, all but two of the women had left. My wife and her two good buddies remained. One is about 5’8” and blonde and seemed to be going way out of her way to show plenty of cleavage. The other is a shorter brunette named Julie (real name – you don’t know her). I came out into the living room where they were sitting on the floor and talking. I lay down on the couch next to them and started reading a magazine as they yammered on and on. My wife was sitting with her legs stretched out in front of her. The short one was sitting cross-legged right in front of her feet.
My wife started second-guessing herself on some parenting issue and they kept giving her grief about it. Then, as I just happened to look down from my mag, Julie reached over and firmly dragged her index finger up my wife’s sole. She jumped and scrunched her neck up in reaction to the tickling. Julie said, “do you have ticklish feet?” I was waiting for things to get really interesting but sadly, that was the end of it. I hoping that my wife would say no so I could call her a liar and they would hopefully tickle her. It would have even been great if the blonde had responded that she was. No such luck. The other woman did lean over and slap the top of my wife’s other foot, but no tickling.
Even though it was short, it was sweet. I rarely get that lucky to actually catch something like that when it happens. When we went to bed after cleaning up (it was pretty late), I started a little somethin-somethin. My wife said, hmmm, I wonder what got you going so late at night. She knew what it was.
For starters, there were 23 thirty-something women in my house in socks and nylons. Unfortunately, I had agreed to take my daughters out to dinner to get them out of the women’s hair. When we got back, I put them to bed and made my way to my basement lair to watch some TV after mingling a little and checking out the holiday toes. There was nothing terribly exciting, but a couple of nicely painted toes in nylons caught my attention. I spent the next two or three hours watching TV by myself.
At about 11:00, all but two of the women had left. My wife and her two good buddies remained. One is about 5’8” and blonde and seemed to be going way out of her way to show plenty of cleavage. The other is a shorter brunette named Julie (real name – you don’t know her). I came out into the living room where they were sitting on the floor and talking. I lay down on the couch next to them and started reading a magazine as they yammered on and on. My wife was sitting with her legs stretched out in front of her. The short one was sitting cross-legged right in front of her feet.
My wife started second-guessing herself on some parenting issue and they kept giving her grief about it. Then, as I just happened to look down from my mag, Julie reached over and firmly dragged her index finger up my wife’s sole. She jumped and scrunched her neck up in reaction to the tickling. Julie said, “do you have ticklish feet?” I was waiting for things to get really interesting but sadly, that was the end of it. I hoping that my wife would say no so I could call her a liar and they would hopefully tickle her. It would have even been great if the blonde had responded that she was. No such luck. The other woman did lean over and slap the top of my wife’s other foot, but no tickling.
Even though it was short, it was sweet. I rarely get that lucky to actually catch something like that when it happens. When we went to bed after cleaning up (it was pretty late), I started a little somethin-somethin. My wife said, hmmm, I wonder what got you going so late at night. She knew what it was.
