*persimmons*
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hello everyone, I'm new to the forum and I wanted to share a (very short, very simple) story for my first post. I hope you enjoy it! 
The Pen
It was Andrew’s first day of college. He woke up late for class and he found himself rushing around his already cluttered dorm room throwing things into his bag in order to make it on time. Rushing across the campus he went over a mental list of everything he grabbed. He had his notebook, textbook, cell phone, money for lunch… He felt prepared.
Class was already in session when he arrived. Andrew was met with a scowl from the professor and dirty looks from his classmates. He searched the crowded auditorium for a free seat, and the only one he could find was all the way in the back. Climbing up the stairs, Andrew surveyed the class. There were a number of people with their notebooks open, ready to take notes. There were a few that were just listening, some with iPods hidden in a hoodie. Nothing too different from high school.
Andrew found a seat a few rows from the back in between a large guy that looked like a football player and a petite girl with brown hair. A quick survey of the girl revealed that she was wearing flip-flops and Bermuda shorts, and Andrew’s gaze settled on her feet. They were small, smooth, and the toes were painted a peachy-coral color. Her legs were crossed, and the girl made eye contact with Andrew for just a second before she focused on the lecture.
As he sat down and pulled out all the supplies he grabbed before he left, Andrew realized he forgot a pen. “Do you have anything to write with?” he whispered to the large football player guy. The guy shook his head. His eyes landed on the girl’s feet again and Andrew felt too nervous to ask her, but he felt necessity was more important than nerves so he whispered, “Do you have a pen I can borrow?”
The girl nodded and reached into her bag. “This is the only one I have, if that’s okay.” She pulled out one of those pens that were wrapped in felt or velvet and instead of placing a cap at the top, there was a giant feather. Trying to hide the grin that was forming on his lips, Andrew replied, “That’s perfect. Thank you.” His eyes jumped from the pen to her feet, pen to feet, and instead of taking notes now he was daydreaming and imagining how much fun it would be to stroke the feather across her smooth soles.
The lecture continued and after a few minutes Andrew thought he should start taking notes. The hot pink feather at the top of the pen shook with every loop and curve and dotted I and crossed T he made. He was starting to sweat with the image of the petite girl succumbing to his every stroke and poke. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl remove her foot from her blue flip-flop, bend her left leg and raise her right leg, and swing her foot underneath with the sole facing Andrew. There had to be about five or six inches, max, between her foot and Andrew’s leg. The excitement he felt grew as the feathers continued to tremble and shake with his writing. He had to do something.
Andrew placed the pen on his desk as he pretended to stretch. When he put his hands back on the desk, he “accidentally” pushed his notebook into his pen, causing it to fly off his desk and land a few inches away on the floor. The girl started to reach for it but Andrew stopped her. “Don’t worry, I got it.” He bent forward and lifted the pen in his left hand, and as he rose to a regular seated position the feather brushed against the sole of the girl’s perfectly smooth, perfectly arched, tiny little foot.
“Oooh,” she gasped for air and her body jerked from the feeling.
“Sorry,” Andrew blushed. He wasn’t sorry, of course. He was intrigued. The girl obviously had very ticklish feet because he hadn’t brushed her foot very hard. A few moments passed as Andrew weighed his options. The lecture was extremely boring, he had no idea what the professor was talking about because he had been late and so focused on the girl’s feet that he wasn’t paying any attention. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed the girl’s sudden movement. It seemed like everyone was asleep. Andrew also couldn’t help but notice that she hadn’t moved her foot, so she hadn’t taken offense to his actions. What did he have to lose?
With practiced nonchalance, Andrew brushed the hot pink feathers on the bottom of his classmate’s foot again. She let out the same gasp, “Oooh”, and twitched and jerked in her desk. Andrew didn’t try to hide his mischievous grin, and he met her eyes with his when she turned to look at him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She whispered, trying to look angry but not doing a very good job of it.
“I couldn’t help but notice how ticklish your feet are.” Andrew admitted. He brushed the feather up and down her foot once, twice, thrice, reveling in the way her body couldn’t help but react while she tried to hide it.
“You’re g-g-going to get us in tr-trouble.” She hissed, and a few people around them shushed them.
Andrew’s desire to tickle this girl’s foot was too strong to care about the lecture and the people shushing them. He shrugged at her and grinned from ear to ear as he continued to stroke up and down, up and down, left to right, left to right, figure eights and circles around the sole of her left foot, each stroke bringing a new movement to her body. Her face was becoming flushed from trying to hold in the laughter, and Andrew’s new goal was to make her giggle, just once, so he could hear it. He increased the speed of the feather, and once or twice snuck a fingernail in there and stroked her smooth soles himself. These caused her to gasp even louder, “Oooh! S-s-stop-p-p.” She whispered. Until, finally, she burst out laughing. “Ahhhhhahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
The professor stopped his lecture, hands still midair, and turned his focus in their direction. A majority of the classmates turned their heads to see what the commotion was in the back. The football player sitting next to Andrew remained undisturbed. Andrew and the girl froze, feather on sole, her face flushed and red with enjoyment and embarrassment.
“I’m sorry professor.” Andrew apologized, placing the pen on his desk. The professor shook his head and kept lecturing as if nothing happened. The girl next to Andrew was breathing heavily, and he noticed that her hands were trembling when she tried to pick her pen back up to take notes.
Andrew replayed the experience in his head a few times before class was dismissed. He decided that college was going to be fantastic.
The Pen
It was Andrew’s first day of college. He woke up late for class and he found himself rushing around his already cluttered dorm room throwing things into his bag in order to make it on time. Rushing across the campus he went over a mental list of everything he grabbed. He had his notebook, textbook, cell phone, money for lunch… He felt prepared.
Class was already in session when he arrived. Andrew was met with a scowl from the professor and dirty looks from his classmates. He searched the crowded auditorium for a free seat, and the only one he could find was all the way in the back. Climbing up the stairs, Andrew surveyed the class. There were a number of people with their notebooks open, ready to take notes. There were a few that were just listening, some with iPods hidden in a hoodie. Nothing too different from high school.
Andrew found a seat a few rows from the back in between a large guy that looked like a football player and a petite girl with brown hair. A quick survey of the girl revealed that she was wearing flip-flops and Bermuda shorts, and Andrew’s gaze settled on her feet. They were small, smooth, and the toes were painted a peachy-coral color. Her legs were crossed, and the girl made eye contact with Andrew for just a second before she focused on the lecture.
As he sat down and pulled out all the supplies he grabbed before he left, Andrew realized he forgot a pen. “Do you have anything to write with?” he whispered to the large football player guy. The guy shook his head. His eyes landed on the girl’s feet again and Andrew felt too nervous to ask her, but he felt necessity was more important than nerves so he whispered, “Do you have a pen I can borrow?”
The girl nodded and reached into her bag. “This is the only one I have, if that’s okay.” She pulled out one of those pens that were wrapped in felt or velvet and instead of placing a cap at the top, there was a giant feather. Trying to hide the grin that was forming on his lips, Andrew replied, “That’s perfect. Thank you.” His eyes jumped from the pen to her feet, pen to feet, and instead of taking notes now he was daydreaming and imagining how much fun it would be to stroke the feather across her smooth soles.
The lecture continued and after a few minutes Andrew thought he should start taking notes. The hot pink feather at the top of the pen shook with every loop and curve and dotted I and crossed T he made. He was starting to sweat with the image of the petite girl succumbing to his every stroke and poke. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl remove her foot from her blue flip-flop, bend her left leg and raise her right leg, and swing her foot underneath with the sole facing Andrew. There had to be about five or six inches, max, between her foot and Andrew’s leg. The excitement he felt grew as the feathers continued to tremble and shake with his writing. He had to do something.
Andrew placed the pen on his desk as he pretended to stretch. When he put his hands back on the desk, he “accidentally” pushed his notebook into his pen, causing it to fly off his desk and land a few inches away on the floor. The girl started to reach for it but Andrew stopped her. “Don’t worry, I got it.” He bent forward and lifted the pen in his left hand, and as he rose to a regular seated position the feather brushed against the sole of the girl’s perfectly smooth, perfectly arched, tiny little foot.
“Oooh,” she gasped for air and her body jerked from the feeling.
“Sorry,” Andrew blushed. He wasn’t sorry, of course. He was intrigued. The girl obviously had very ticklish feet because he hadn’t brushed her foot very hard. A few moments passed as Andrew weighed his options. The lecture was extremely boring, he had no idea what the professor was talking about because he had been late and so focused on the girl’s feet that he wasn’t paying any attention. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed the girl’s sudden movement. It seemed like everyone was asleep. Andrew also couldn’t help but notice that she hadn’t moved her foot, so she hadn’t taken offense to his actions. What did he have to lose?
With practiced nonchalance, Andrew brushed the hot pink feathers on the bottom of his classmate’s foot again. She let out the same gasp, “Oooh”, and twitched and jerked in her desk. Andrew didn’t try to hide his mischievous grin, and he met her eyes with his when she turned to look at him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She whispered, trying to look angry but not doing a very good job of it.
“I couldn’t help but notice how ticklish your feet are.” Andrew admitted. He brushed the feather up and down her foot once, twice, thrice, reveling in the way her body couldn’t help but react while she tried to hide it.
“You’re g-g-going to get us in tr-trouble.” She hissed, and a few people around them shushed them.
Andrew’s desire to tickle this girl’s foot was too strong to care about the lecture and the people shushing them. He shrugged at her and grinned from ear to ear as he continued to stroke up and down, up and down, left to right, left to right, figure eights and circles around the sole of her left foot, each stroke bringing a new movement to her body. Her face was becoming flushed from trying to hold in the laughter, and Andrew’s new goal was to make her giggle, just once, so he could hear it. He increased the speed of the feather, and once or twice snuck a fingernail in there and stroked her smooth soles himself. These caused her to gasp even louder, “Oooh! S-s-stop-p-p.” She whispered. Until, finally, she burst out laughing. “Ahhhhhahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
The professor stopped his lecture, hands still midair, and turned his focus in their direction. A majority of the classmates turned their heads to see what the commotion was in the back. The football player sitting next to Andrew remained undisturbed. Andrew and the girl froze, feather on sole, her face flushed and red with enjoyment and embarrassment.
“I’m sorry professor.” Andrew apologized, placing the pen on his desk. The professor shook his head and kept lecturing as if nothing happened. The girl next to Andrew was breathing heavily, and he noticed that her hands were trembling when she tried to pick her pen back up to take notes.
Andrew replayed the experience in his head a few times before class was dismissed. He decided that college was going to be fantastic.
