Hello again folks. It seems that at least a couple of you enjoyed my last post, so I figured I’d try again.
This story takes place a few days after my first encounter with the lovely Diz. I must apologize, I left out a few details in my last tale. I beg your pardon, I wrote it in the wee hours of the morning in a fit of insomnia. Diz was a beautiful lass, 6’ tall with incredible size 10 feet (in case you didn’t read the last tale). She had hazel eyes and shoulder length dirty blonde hair. She was a true beauty.
After our little bit of fun in the library Diz and I started spending some time together around campus. We at lunch together a few days in a row. It was about four days later and we were strolling around campus. After a nice romantic stroll around campus, we ended up sitting on the Chapel steps chatting. She complained that she was feeling stiff again. Without missing a beat, I scooped her ankle onto my lap, and began to remove her shoe.
She was wearing flats this time, with these fuzzy pink socks. This time she did hesitate a bit, saying, “No tickling this time.” She had on a sort of sarcastic pout that was flirtatious and playful. I slid the flat off her foot and began to pull at the pink sock. When I got the soft fuzzy sock off of her foot, I was amazed. Her foot looked even more perfect then the previous day. He toes were a magnificent shade of soft pink, almost as if the sock had colored them. Her sole was the same color, and warm but not slick with sweat.
I began to rub, but as soon as my fingers touched her sole she started laughing. I tried to press more firmly but she told me firmly to stop.
“Ok,” I said. “But I was wondering something the other day.”
“Oh, yeah, and what was that?”
I didn’t answer immediately; I simply began gently tugging on her pinky toe, and saying. “This Little piggy went to market.”
She started laughing and wiggling her foot wildly, saying, “Don’t do that,” over and over really quickly so that it sounded like “dontdothatdontdothatdontdothat…”
I pulled on her tender toes one by one, playing the little piggy game for all it was worth. When my fingers would probe in between her toes she would get frantic, laughing and wiggling, trying to scrunch her toes to protect the vulnerable flesh.
I finished with the toes and picked up a near by leaf and playfully dragged it along the bottom of her foot. She got herself under control and told me once agin, in a firm but not nasty voice, that she wanted me to stop. Realizing that fun is one thing, but pissing off a girl that was interested in dating me was quite another, I chose love over lust and relented.
Alas, while this would be the last time I really got a chance to tickle her marvelous feet, it was not my last opportunity to play with her luscious feet. That however is a story for another time and place.
This story takes place a few days after my first encounter with the lovely Diz. I must apologize, I left out a few details in my last tale. I beg your pardon, I wrote it in the wee hours of the morning in a fit of insomnia. Diz was a beautiful lass, 6’ tall with incredible size 10 feet (in case you didn’t read the last tale). She had hazel eyes and shoulder length dirty blonde hair. She was a true beauty.
After our little bit of fun in the library Diz and I started spending some time together around campus. We at lunch together a few days in a row. It was about four days later and we were strolling around campus. After a nice romantic stroll around campus, we ended up sitting on the Chapel steps chatting. She complained that she was feeling stiff again. Without missing a beat, I scooped her ankle onto my lap, and began to remove her shoe.
She was wearing flats this time, with these fuzzy pink socks. This time she did hesitate a bit, saying, “No tickling this time.” She had on a sort of sarcastic pout that was flirtatious and playful. I slid the flat off her foot and began to pull at the pink sock. When I got the soft fuzzy sock off of her foot, I was amazed. Her foot looked even more perfect then the previous day. He toes were a magnificent shade of soft pink, almost as if the sock had colored them. Her sole was the same color, and warm but not slick with sweat.
I began to rub, but as soon as my fingers touched her sole she started laughing. I tried to press more firmly but she told me firmly to stop.
“Ok,” I said. “But I was wondering something the other day.”
“Oh, yeah, and what was that?”
I didn’t answer immediately; I simply began gently tugging on her pinky toe, and saying. “This Little piggy went to market.”
She started laughing and wiggling her foot wildly, saying, “Don’t do that,” over and over really quickly so that it sounded like “dontdothatdontdothatdontdothat…”
I pulled on her tender toes one by one, playing the little piggy game for all it was worth. When my fingers would probe in between her toes she would get frantic, laughing and wiggling, trying to scrunch her toes to protect the vulnerable flesh.
I finished with the toes and picked up a near by leaf and playfully dragged it along the bottom of her foot. She got herself under control and told me once agin, in a firm but not nasty voice, that she wanted me to stop. Realizing that fun is one thing, but pissing off a girl that was interested in dating me was quite another, I chose love over lust and relented.
Alas, while this would be the last time I really got a chance to tickle her marvelous feet, it was not my last opportunity to play with her luscious feet. That however is a story for another time and place.
)
