I was sitting on the couch in the dorm of Heather, the last person I would expect to come on to me. She was an obedient girl, always submitting to authority – from mothers to professors, she couldn’t bear being in trouble. She was so sheltered, I’d scarcely even expected her to know what arousal is.
Which is why she couldn’t have known about my fetish.
Nevertheless, while we were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, she picked up her legs and tossed them over my lap. Her feet came to a rest just near my thigh, her sneakers still laced up tight. That’s another thing – she tended to wear her shoes inside the house. It was odd, but strangely endearing. They added an air of mystery, considering I had never seen her feet bare before. I looked at Heather, and she was smiling – almost flirtatiously. The way she wiggled her feet in my lap was unbearable. I normally have the willpower to resist such urges, but Heather laid it on so thick that I simply couldn’t shake the notion that she wanted to be tickled. And who was I to refuse?
I’m a cautious fellow, so before I did anything rash, I wanted to test the tepid waters. “Comfy?” I asked her, my voice brimming with irony. She’s used to my sarcastic self. Maybe if I keep my personality in check, she’ll be the one feeling awkward, not me.
“Mhm!” Heather breathed, that smirk cemented on her face. She wiggled her feet some more. Thank god I was wearing stiff jeans, else I might have prodded her.
I eyed her kiddingly. “Are you waiting for something, Heather?”
Her shoes grazed against my thigh. “I dunno,” she sang, her eyes fixed innocently on the ceiling.
She was taking me in circles. Whatever it was she was trying to get from me, she wanted me to make the first move. Carefully, I submitted. With two of my fingers, I neatly pulled out the bow from one of her shoelaces. The laces fell neatly around her ankle. I smiled at her and she smiled back, her pupils glowing in the lamplight. “Why do you wear these inside, anyway?” I asked her as I took her sneaker by the heel.
She shrugged. That smile was like concrete. It wouldn’t move. She was turned on, I could see it. Maybe it was because of her sheltered life that she vied so hard for pleasure. Who knows? Maybe this was her first truly arousing encounter. That being the case, I wouldn’t want to disappoint her. I pulled off her shoe, revealing a solid red ankle sock. She wiggled her toes about in the newfound freedom. Her feet were small, maybe a size 5 in men’s. Petite, I like to call them. Sensing her pleasure, I quickly pulled away her other shoe. Her socked feet rested politely on my thigh, wiggling about in delight. Somehow, her smile grew bigger. As I watched her face, I noticed how her eyes followed my fingers. She scrutinized my hands with utmost care, seeming to anticipate where they’ll be next. I knew what she wanted me to do. But I wasn’t going to make this easy for her. I had made the first move, and now it was her turn. I suppressed myself as best I could while her feet rested on me, ever so vulnerable.
A minute passed, and Heather’s smile turned to something more contemplative. The action had stopped, and she knew it. How could she get it going again? She must have been at a loss for ideas, because she resorted to simply rubbing her feet back and forth along my leg. Call me weak, but it worked like a charm. I put my fingers around her ankle, and she jerked her foot back. “Ah!” she squealed.
“What?” I asked.
Heather giggled, a sweet little snicker that was so irresistibly cute. “That tickles,” she admitted, her head falling in mock shame.
I pulled my hands away, deciding to let her do some of the legwork. “Sorry,” I said. “I’ll try not to touch your feet, then.”
“No!” she gasped, almost involuntarily. Immediately, she sealed her lips and slumped her head down in sheer embarrassment.
“What?” I asked her.
Very slowly, but confidently, Heather slid her little feet back onto my lap, opened them wide. “I dunno,” she muttered shamefully, her smirk very subtly returning as her cheeks turned red. “It feels kind of good.”
This was my chance. “What does?” I asked, grazing a finger along the bottom of her foot. “This?”
“Eee!” she screeched, wiggling her foot away from my finger. “Yes!”
“Yes as in… It tickles, or yes as in it feels good?”
She was silent for a minute, but kept her feet in my lap. “Yes as in… both?”
“Oh? So you want me to tickle you?”
“Kinda…” She shuffled uncomfortably, blushing like crazy. I had her trapped. “I kinda like it,” she admitted.
“Is that so,” I said to myself, intrigued. I ran my finger along her sole once more, getting an equally startled reaction. In spite of how much it seemed to tickle, she kept both of her feet obediently in my lap. I had her eating out of the palm of my hand. Time to get to the fun part. “Do you like this, Heather?” I asked, clutching both of her ankles together with one hand and dancing my fingers along the bottoms of both of her feet with the other.
Heather was red in the face, equally from embarrassment and excitement. She laughed in sync with my touches, struggling to catch a breath to answer me. “Yes!” she squealed between pants.
I stopped tickling her, and her feet rested once more on my lap. Why didn’t she retract her feet if it tickled so much? She must really like this kind of thing. I examined her face, and still, she smiled. Feeling daring, I felt my finger along her ankles, putting it under the seam of her sock. “What would you do if I took these off, Heather?”
She shrugged, her eyes glowing with anticipation. I decided it’d be best not to torture her any further; I’d give her exactly what she wants. I grabbed her by the ankles and pulled off her socks, revealing her cute little bare feet, complete with a mild tan and several anklets. She spread and wiggled her toes, enjoying the air on her skin. I caressed her along the heels. I couldn’t believe I had gotten this far and she still wouldn’t retract. My stiffy was getting to a dangerous high. I couldn’t reach down my pants to fix it, though. That would completely blow my cover. But I had to do something before she –
“Oh?” she gasped inquiringly, spotting the bump on my groin. With cute little motions, she picked up one of her bare feet and gently touched it to my fly. “I didn’t know you were into this as much as I was…” She gracefully smoothed over the bump with the sweet skin of her foot.
“Nah,” I said. “It’s just that time of the evening.” She laughed at me. We both knew there was more to it than just the regular six o’clock wood. So I let her do her thing with her foot, my groin growing ever more uncomfortable. At the same time, I took her other foot, the free one, and tickled it very gently. She giggled and jerked a few times, but she seemed to be enjoying it, so I didn’t stop.
“A little more,” she said, moving her foot away from my groin and throwing it back over my thigh. “Tickle me more.” I had both of her soft feet at my disposal. They were my little play things, and I had them all to myself.
I ran my fingers along both of her feet, trying to give them each a good amount of tickle. Heather squealed and squirmed and giggled, her feet wiggling all about, but she never retracted them. I felt I was enjoying myself a little too much. My stiffy was pressing hard against my fly, fighting to get out. I thought to myself. Heather did like this whole tickle deal. Who’s to say she wouldn’t want to take it a little further? I was too aroused to make a rational thought, so I unzipped my pants without worrying about the consequences.
Heather was pleased as my boxers began to show underneath. She told me to lie back and that she would do the rest of the work for me. I did.
Before long, I felt her toes burrow down under my boxers, finding that little friend of mine. She took it between the soles of her feet and gently massaged it, going steadily up and down. I craned my neck back, drinking in the experience, not wanting it to ever end.
She went on for several minutes while I strained to hold in my load. But eventually, it was simply too much. I lost control and came. The wetness dampened her feet and my groin, but she kept going for a little while longer. She hardly seemed to notice I had finished. A minute or so later, she retracted her feet and began to wipe the liquid from them.
That was when the guilt hit me.
Being sober for the first time in the past hour, I had suddenly realized the scale of what I’d done. Heather was just a friend of mine, and I’d gone and let her do something regrettable. Not only did she know my sexual secrets now, but I also knew hers. If we ever got in a fight, it’d become blackmail city. I decided to cut and run while I still could. I picked up Heather’s socks and tossed them to her. “Here,” I said as I zipped up my pants and stood to leave.
Heather looked stricken, like her favorite toy were being taken away. She looked at me with her sad puppy eyes and said, “Where are you going?” I could never understand how someone could be so naughty one minute and so innocent the next.
“I’m heading out,” I told her as I slipped on my shoes. “Nothing personal, I’ve just got to go. I’ll, uh… I’ll see you around, okay?”
I left in a hurry and slammed the door behind me.
Which is why she couldn’t have known about my fetish.
Nevertheless, while we were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, she picked up her legs and tossed them over my lap. Her feet came to a rest just near my thigh, her sneakers still laced up tight. That’s another thing – she tended to wear her shoes inside the house. It was odd, but strangely endearing. They added an air of mystery, considering I had never seen her feet bare before. I looked at Heather, and she was smiling – almost flirtatiously. The way she wiggled her feet in my lap was unbearable. I normally have the willpower to resist such urges, but Heather laid it on so thick that I simply couldn’t shake the notion that she wanted to be tickled. And who was I to refuse?
I’m a cautious fellow, so before I did anything rash, I wanted to test the tepid waters. “Comfy?” I asked her, my voice brimming with irony. She’s used to my sarcastic self. Maybe if I keep my personality in check, she’ll be the one feeling awkward, not me.
“Mhm!” Heather breathed, that smirk cemented on her face. She wiggled her feet some more. Thank god I was wearing stiff jeans, else I might have prodded her.
I eyed her kiddingly. “Are you waiting for something, Heather?”
Her shoes grazed against my thigh. “I dunno,” she sang, her eyes fixed innocently on the ceiling.
She was taking me in circles. Whatever it was she was trying to get from me, she wanted me to make the first move. Carefully, I submitted. With two of my fingers, I neatly pulled out the bow from one of her shoelaces. The laces fell neatly around her ankle. I smiled at her and she smiled back, her pupils glowing in the lamplight. “Why do you wear these inside, anyway?” I asked her as I took her sneaker by the heel.
She shrugged. That smile was like concrete. It wouldn’t move. She was turned on, I could see it. Maybe it was because of her sheltered life that she vied so hard for pleasure. Who knows? Maybe this was her first truly arousing encounter. That being the case, I wouldn’t want to disappoint her. I pulled off her shoe, revealing a solid red ankle sock. She wiggled her toes about in the newfound freedom. Her feet were small, maybe a size 5 in men’s. Petite, I like to call them. Sensing her pleasure, I quickly pulled away her other shoe. Her socked feet rested politely on my thigh, wiggling about in delight. Somehow, her smile grew bigger. As I watched her face, I noticed how her eyes followed my fingers. She scrutinized my hands with utmost care, seeming to anticipate where they’ll be next. I knew what she wanted me to do. But I wasn’t going to make this easy for her. I had made the first move, and now it was her turn. I suppressed myself as best I could while her feet rested on me, ever so vulnerable.
A minute passed, and Heather’s smile turned to something more contemplative. The action had stopped, and she knew it. How could she get it going again? She must have been at a loss for ideas, because she resorted to simply rubbing her feet back and forth along my leg. Call me weak, but it worked like a charm. I put my fingers around her ankle, and she jerked her foot back. “Ah!” she squealed.
“What?” I asked.
Heather giggled, a sweet little snicker that was so irresistibly cute. “That tickles,” she admitted, her head falling in mock shame.
I pulled my hands away, deciding to let her do some of the legwork. “Sorry,” I said. “I’ll try not to touch your feet, then.”
“No!” she gasped, almost involuntarily. Immediately, she sealed her lips and slumped her head down in sheer embarrassment.
“What?” I asked her.
Very slowly, but confidently, Heather slid her little feet back onto my lap, opened them wide. “I dunno,” she muttered shamefully, her smirk very subtly returning as her cheeks turned red. “It feels kind of good.”
This was my chance. “What does?” I asked, grazing a finger along the bottom of her foot. “This?”
“Eee!” she screeched, wiggling her foot away from my finger. “Yes!”
“Yes as in… It tickles, or yes as in it feels good?”
She was silent for a minute, but kept her feet in my lap. “Yes as in… both?”
“Oh? So you want me to tickle you?”
“Kinda…” She shuffled uncomfortably, blushing like crazy. I had her trapped. “I kinda like it,” she admitted.
“Is that so,” I said to myself, intrigued. I ran my finger along her sole once more, getting an equally startled reaction. In spite of how much it seemed to tickle, she kept both of her feet obediently in my lap. I had her eating out of the palm of my hand. Time to get to the fun part. “Do you like this, Heather?” I asked, clutching both of her ankles together with one hand and dancing my fingers along the bottoms of both of her feet with the other.
Heather was red in the face, equally from embarrassment and excitement. She laughed in sync with my touches, struggling to catch a breath to answer me. “Yes!” she squealed between pants.
I stopped tickling her, and her feet rested once more on my lap. Why didn’t she retract her feet if it tickled so much? She must really like this kind of thing. I examined her face, and still, she smiled. Feeling daring, I felt my finger along her ankles, putting it under the seam of her sock. “What would you do if I took these off, Heather?”
She shrugged, her eyes glowing with anticipation. I decided it’d be best not to torture her any further; I’d give her exactly what she wants. I grabbed her by the ankles and pulled off her socks, revealing her cute little bare feet, complete with a mild tan and several anklets. She spread and wiggled her toes, enjoying the air on her skin. I caressed her along the heels. I couldn’t believe I had gotten this far and she still wouldn’t retract. My stiffy was getting to a dangerous high. I couldn’t reach down my pants to fix it, though. That would completely blow my cover. But I had to do something before she –
“Oh?” she gasped inquiringly, spotting the bump on my groin. With cute little motions, she picked up one of her bare feet and gently touched it to my fly. “I didn’t know you were into this as much as I was…” She gracefully smoothed over the bump with the sweet skin of her foot.
“Nah,” I said. “It’s just that time of the evening.” She laughed at me. We both knew there was more to it than just the regular six o’clock wood. So I let her do her thing with her foot, my groin growing ever more uncomfortable. At the same time, I took her other foot, the free one, and tickled it very gently. She giggled and jerked a few times, but she seemed to be enjoying it, so I didn’t stop.
“A little more,” she said, moving her foot away from my groin and throwing it back over my thigh. “Tickle me more.” I had both of her soft feet at my disposal. They were my little play things, and I had them all to myself.
I ran my fingers along both of her feet, trying to give them each a good amount of tickle. Heather squealed and squirmed and giggled, her feet wiggling all about, but she never retracted them. I felt I was enjoying myself a little too much. My stiffy was pressing hard against my fly, fighting to get out. I thought to myself. Heather did like this whole tickle deal. Who’s to say she wouldn’t want to take it a little further? I was too aroused to make a rational thought, so I unzipped my pants without worrying about the consequences.
Heather was pleased as my boxers began to show underneath. She told me to lie back and that she would do the rest of the work for me. I did.
Before long, I felt her toes burrow down under my boxers, finding that little friend of mine. She took it between the soles of her feet and gently massaged it, going steadily up and down. I craned my neck back, drinking in the experience, not wanting it to ever end.
She went on for several minutes while I strained to hold in my load. But eventually, it was simply too much. I lost control and came. The wetness dampened her feet and my groin, but she kept going for a little while longer. She hardly seemed to notice I had finished. A minute or so later, she retracted her feet and began to wipe the liquid from them.
That was when the guilt hit me.
Being sober for the first time in the past hour, I had suddenly realized the scale of what I’d done. Heather was just a friend of mine, and I’d gone and let her do something regrettable. Not only did she know my sexual secrets now, but I also knew hers. If we ever got in a fight, it’d become blackmail city. I decided to cut and run while I still could. I picked up Heather’s socks and tossed them to her. “Here,” I said as I zipped up my pants and stood to leave.
Heather looked stricken, like her favorite toy were being taken away. She looked at me with her sad puppy eyes and said, “Where are you going?” I could never understand how someone could be so naughty one minute and so innocent the next.
“I’m heading out,” I told her as I slipped on my shoes. “Nothing personal, I’ve just got to go. I’ll, uh… I’ll see you around, okay?”
I left in a hurry and slammed the door behind me.
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