This is the second of two old stories I recently re-discovered.
THE BIRTHDAY PARTY
My name is Lou. I turned 30 a fewwwwww years ago. I have a niece who shares
the same birthday. My wife's family thought that we should celebrate together.
We went to my wife's parents house: my wife, our son, my wife's two sisters,
and their five kids. My wife's sisters are older, the oldest being Linda, who
at the time was in her early forties. Linda was hot, especially her lower
body. She was about 5'6, pretty face, short black hair. Great thighs, calves,
ankles, and nice wide feet, size 7-1/2.
For the party, Linda was a little over-dressed: silk blouse, black silk
shorts, tan stockings, and black flats. She spent much of the day teasing me,
treating me as if I were the 4-year-old. She put a party hat on me, called me
"little boy", asked me if I wanted a booster chair....you get the idea.
Moving along...it was time to take the kids to the movies. The group became
whittled down to fit into only two cars. I was left to watch the house with
Linda, and our two oldest nieces (two of my other sister-in-law's 3 kids), who
didn't want to go to a "baby" movie. My wife and the rest of the crew left.
Linda and I cleaned up, and then, for lack of anything to do, broke out a deck
of cards. We sat at the kitchen table while the girls played down in the family
room.
Linda continued to tease me about how "young" I was. Soon, one of the girl's
started to scream, and then ran up the stairs, her sister followed. They had
found my mother-in-law's rolled-up clothesline.
"What's wrong?"
"She wants to tie me up, like a mummy."
I was a bit perplexed at first, until Linda, who was drinking along with me,
chimed in: "Tie up your uncle Lou."
The two girls looked at me.
"You can't tie me up. It's my birthday. Tie up your Aunt Linda."
This seemed to make sense to them. Better yet, it seemed to make sense to
Linda. She says: "Oh, allright. But not too tight." Aunt Linda always liked to
make her little nieces happy. They made her stand up, hold the rope, and put
her hands at her sides. The little girls then ran around her like they were
playing ring-around-the-rosie, wrapping her from shoulders to feet. The girls
giggled, Linda had a bemused look on her face, and my wheels started turning.
The girls finished, and stood there enjoying their work (as was I ;-). Just
then, we heard a car pull into the driveway, and then the back door open. It
was my other sister-in-law. I walked down through the family room to greet her.
"We have to go. My husband is sick to his stomach. We left the movie early.
The others will be home later."
Before I knew it, she hurried them out and drove away. I then heard a wonderful
sound: Linda hopping across the kitchen. In her stockinged feet. I went back up
into the kitchen. Linda was standing in the doorway. I told her what happened,
then walked to the living room. She hopped along behind me.
"Don't just stand there. Untie me."
I sat down and got sarcastic.
"I don't know if I can. I'm much "too young" to be able to figure out how to
untie those knots. You'll have to wait for the others to come home."
"Lou! C'mon," she half-pleaded. I picked up the paper and ignored her. She
started to hop over to the couch, lost her balance, and fell face first. She
started to giggle at her predicament. "Lou!" she pleaded again. I got up and
walked over to her, mesmerized by the sight of her bound stockinged legs.
Especially her wonderful feet, toes pointed down. "Help me!"
"You know Linda, if you really wanted to, I'm sure you could get yourself out.
You just HAVE TO want to." With that, I gave a single stroke to the arch of her
stockinged right foot. She yelped, and kicked her legs up.
"HEY! Don't you dare!"
"Don't I dare what?"
"You know what I mean. Don't EVEN THINK about touching my feet."
"Do you know the problem with "little boys" Linda?" I teased as I moved closer.
"Little boys are bad." I sat down on her legs.
"Lou! Get off me. Untie me! Lou? DO NOT tickle my feet. I can't stand that!
LoooooOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAAAHAHAHAAhAAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAAHA!"
I simply ran my fingertips up and down the sole of her left foot. Fingers glide
so easily on stockings. Linda exploded with laughter.
"STAOOOAAHHHPPPPHAAhAAhAHAHAhAHAHAHAHAHAAH"
She bucked and and threw her head form side to side. I stopped. For a second or
two. Then I tickled her other lovely stockinged foot.
"NOOOOOAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
I then turned fully towards her feet, totally pinning her legs down, and
tickled both feet at the same time. her laughter became louder, this time
through tears. I finally relented, content on just teasingly rubbing her feet
while she caught her breath.
"Yo-oo-oor a bassstard." She wasn't malicious. She was just admitting defeat
(or should I say, D-feet?). Not wanting to risk the family catching me/us, I
quickly untied her, and then put the clothesline back.
What a birthday.
THE BIRTHDAY PARTY
My name is Lou. I turned 30 a fewwwwww years ago. I have a niece who shares
the same birthday. My wife's family thought that we should celebrate together.
We went to my wife's parents house: my wife, our son, my wife's two sisters,
and their five kids. My wife's sisters are older, the oldest being Linda, who
at the time was in her early forties. Linda was hot, especially her lower
body. She was about 5'6, pretty face, short black hair. Great thighs, calves,
ankles, and nice wide feet, size 7-1/2.
For the party, Linda was a little over-dressed: silk blouse, black silk
shorts, tan stockings, and black flats. She spent much of the day teasing me,
treating me as if I were the 4-year-old. She put a party hat on me, called me
"little boy", asked me if I wanted a booster chair....you get the idea.
Moving along...it was time to take the kids to the movies. The group became
whittled down to fit into only two cars. I was left to watch the house with
Linda, and our two oldest nieces (two of my other sister-in-law's 3 kids), who
didn't want to go to a "baby" movie. My wife and the rest of the crew left.
Linda and I cleaned up, and then, for lack of anything to do, broke out a deck
of cards. We sat at the kitchen table while the girls played down in the family
room.
Linda continued to tease me about how "young" I was. Soon, one of the girl's
started to scream, and then ran up the stairs, her sister followed. They had
found my mother-in-law's rolled-up clothesline.
"What's wrong?"
"She wants to tie me up, like a mummy."
I was a bit perplexed at first, until Linda, who was drinking along with me,
chimed in: "Tie up your uncle Lou."
The two girls looked at me.
"You can't tie me up. It's my birthday. Tie up your Aunt Linda."
This seemed to make sense to them. Better yet, it seemed to make sense to
Linda. She says: "Oh, allright. But not too tight." Aunt Linda always liked to
make her little nieces happy. They made her stand up, hold the rope, and put
her hands at her sides. The little girls then ran around her like they were
playing ring-around-the-rosie, wrapping her from shoulders to feet. The girls
giggled, Linda had a bemused look on her face, and my wheels started turning.
The girls finished, and stood there enjoying their work (as was I ;-). Just
then, we heard a car pull into the driveway, and then the back door open. It
was my other sister-in-law. I walked down through the family room to greet her.
"We have to go. My husband is sick to his stomach. We left the movie early.
The others will be home later."
Before I knew it, she hurried them out and drove away. I then heard a wonderful
sound: Linda hopping across the kitchen. In her stockinged feet. I went back up
into the kitchen. Linda was standing in the doorway. I told her what happened,
then walked to the living room. She hopped along behind me.
"Don't just stand there. Untie me."
I sat down and got sarcastic.
"I don't know if I can. I'm much "too young" to be able to figure out how to
untie those knots. You'll have to wait for the others to come home."
"Lou! C'mon," she half-pleaded. I picked up the paper and ignored her. She
started to hop over to the couch, lost her balance, and fell face first. She
started to giggle at her predicament. "Lou!" she pleaded again. I got up and
walked over to her, mesmerized by the sight of her bound stockinged legs.
Especially her wonderful feet, toes pointed down. "Help me!"
"You know Linda, if you really wanted to, I'm sure you could get yourself out.
You just HAVE TO want to." With that, I gave a single stroke to the arch of her
stockinged right foot. She yelped, and kicked her legs up.
"HEY! Don't you dare!"
"Don't I dare what?"
"You know what I mean. Don't EVEN THINK about touching my feet."
"Do you know the problem with "little boys" Linda?" I teased as I moved closer.
"Little boys are bad." I sat down on her legs.
"Lou! Get off me. Untie me! Lou? DO NOT tickle my feet. I can't stand that!
LoooooOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAAAHAHAHAAhAAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAAHA!"
I simply ran my fingertips up and down the sole of her left foot. Fingers glide
so easily on stockings. Linda exploded with laughter.
"STAOOOAAHHHPPPPHAAhAAhAHAHAhAHAHAHAHAHAAH"
She bucked and and threw her head form side to side. I stopped. For a second or
two. Then I tickled her other lovely stockinged foot.
"NOOOOOAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
I then turned fully towards her feet, totally pinning her legs down, and
tickled both feet at the same time. her laughter became louder, this time
through tears. I finally relented, content on just teasingly rubbing her feet
while she caught her breath.
"Yo-oo-oor a bassstard." She wasn't malicious. She was just admitting defeat
(or should I say, D-feet?). Not wanting to risk the family catching me/us, I
quickly untied her, and then put the clothesline back.
What a birthday.
