Going against my tradition of one story a month, I'll attempt to make up for my last post which ended, I am told, on a depressing note. That's why feedback is good! I'll be more careful in the future. 
Candy was a waitress who worked for me when I owned a small restaurant. She was tall, 5'10", tan, 22, shapely with light brown hair, and long legs. A viking Goddess (Ti Yo Ta Ho--Wagner). She waited tables in dress shorts which showed them off well. There were two occasions that come to mind about her.
The first time was in the wait station at closing. She had changed into a pair of heeless sandles and was finishing up her side work. I noticed the sandles immediately, as she never had worn them before.
"Finishing up?" I asked, moving behind her.
"Yep, I'll be leaving in about ten minutes." she replies.
"Hey, I like your sandles!" I say as I grab her ankle and pull it up. She steadies herself on the counter as she continues with her work in front of her and me, holding her ankle behind her at thigh level.
"Yeah, I just bought them."
I slip her sandle off and using my index finger of the same hand run it up the sole of her foot. She bent forward laughing. She was as ticklish as anyone I had ever seen. She couldn't move while I tickled but laughed loudly, unable to speak. Remarkable.
"Oh, a little ticklish?" I ask, slipping her sandle back on her foot and releasing her ankle (Hey, she was on the clock! I also wanted to leave for the night.)
"Yeah." She says quietly. I don't think she wanted to encourage more conversation about the subject.
A few months later I had sold the restaurant. I had closed it for a week to clean it thoroughly for the new owner. I had decided to use Candy, who was a dependable and hard worker, to help me.
We were just in the last stages of finishing. She had climbed up on the dishwasher platform to clean the backsplash. I noticed that she was barefooted, having slipped off her tennis shoes for some reason, before she climed up. She sat on her knees as she scrubbed away.
I came up behind her and held one ankle to the stainless steel countertop and began to tickle her foot.
"Haaaahahahahahahahahhahahahaah" she kept laughing collapsing forward and holding herself up by grabbing an exposed waterpipe.
"You're doing a nice job cleaning, but I thought it was a bit too quiet in here" I explained as I continued to tickle.
"Hahahahhaaahahahhahhaa" she laughed incessantly. Her arms didn't move off the pipe.
Her soles crinckled under my tickling fingers. I wormed one finger inbetween her big toe and her second toe. She continued to titter helplessly.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" I ask, not expecting a reply as I continued my tickle torture.
"Hahhahahahhahahahha" was all she could manage.
After ten minutes I relented. Her red face was streaked with tears, I discovered as she turned around to tuck her feet under her and away from me.
I laughed at the sight.
"I really hate that!" She said. She said it so matter-of-factly that I almost have a hard time believing it to this day. I suspect, on some level, she did in fact, enjoy it.
Regardless, this was to be our last day of working together, so I didn't feel too bad going for broke. She was a good waitress and a great tickle.
Guff
Candy was a waitress who worked for me when I owned a small restaurant. She was tall, 5'10", tan, 22, shapely with light brown hair, and long legs. A viking Goddess (Ti Yo Ta Ho--Wagner). She waited tables in dress shorts which showed them off well. There were two occasions that come to mind about her.
The first time was in the wait station at closing. She had changed into a pair of heeless sandles and was finishing up her side work. I noticed the sandles immediately, as she never had worn them before.
"Finishing up?" I asked, moving behind her.
"Yep, I'll be leaving in about ten minutes." she replies.
"Hey, I like your sandles!" I say as I grab her ankle and pull it up. She steadies herself on the counter as she continues with her work in front of her and me, holding her ankle behind her at thigh level.
"Yeah, I just bought them."
I slip her sandle off and using my index finger of the same hand run it up the sole of her foot. She bent forward laughing. She was as ticklish as anyone I had ever seen. She couldn't move while I tickled but laughed loudly, unable to speak. Remarkable.
"Oh, a little ticklish?" I ask, slipping her sandle back on her foot and releasing her ankle (Hey, she was on the clock! I also wanted to leave for the night.)
"Yeah." She says quietly. I don't think she wanted to encourage more conversation about the subject.
A few months later I had sold the restaurant. I had closed it for a week to clean it thoroughly for the new owner. I had decided to use Candy, who was a dependable and hard worker, to help me.
We were just in the last stages of finishing. She had climbed up on the dishwasher platform to clean the backsplash. I noticed that she was barefooted, having slipped off her tennis shoes for some reason, before she climed up. She sat on her knees as she scrubbed away.
I came up behind her and held one ankle to the stainless steel countertop and began to tickle her foot.
"Haaaahahahahahahahahhahahahaah" she kept laughing collapsing forward and holding herself up by grabbing an exposed waterpipe.
"You're doing a nice job cleaning, but I thought it was a bit too quiet in here" I explained as I continued to tickle.
"Hahahahhaaahahahhahhaa" she laughed incessantly. Her arms didn't move off the pipe.
Her soles crinckled under my tickling fingers. I wormed one finger inbetween her big toe and her second toe. She continued to titter helplessly.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" I ask, not expecting a reply as I continued my tickle torture.
"Hahhahahahhahahahha" was all she could manage.
After ten minutes I relented. Her red face was streaked with tears, I discovered as she turned around to tuck her feet under her and away from me.
I laughed at the sight.
"I really hate that!" She said. She said it so matter-of-factly that I almost have a hard time believing it to this day. I suspect, on some level, she did in fact, enjoy it.
Regardless, this was to be our last day of working together, so I didn't feel too bad going for broke. She was a good waitress and a great tickle.
Guff
