ticklishguy1985
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When I was a sophomore in college I developed a bit of a crush on a female acquaintance who was a student worker in the library. It never really developed into anything, as I think she just enjoyed the attention and was never interested in something more than that. We'll call her Andi, as I hate using real names. The best word to describe Andi is probably cute. She's is one of those women who even when they're 30 they get mistaken for 16. What you might think of as a naturally young looking appearance. She had long brown hair, pretty brown eyes and was very tan. And was a smaller girl and quite petite which probably only added to the perception that she was younger than she really was. She had been a cheerleader in high school, which was evident from her frame and her bubbly and energetic personality. Andi was also a bit of a flirt and having the luxury of retrospection, I can realize now that she was mostly flirting with me because she enjoyed having a guy bring her coffee and spend time with her as she worked.
For a few months, before I became disillusioned with the possibility of us dating, I would visit Andi nearly every day. She worked in the periodicals area which was off in the back part of the library and rarely saw any through traffic. I imagine it was boring to be there at a desk for hours on end, and the presence of an interested young man bearing coffee and conversation helped pass the time. We'd talk about different topics and interests like movies, tv shows, and general campus events.
We'd been doing this song and dance for a few weeks when I finally got an opportunity to tickle her. I showed up, as usual with coffee in hand, and she was working on some assignment for one of her classes. The periodicals area was practically a ghost town and we were the only two back there. We chatted for a bit, mostly about things that were of no importance since I can't remember them now, as she sipped her coffee and worked on school work. At some point in the conversation she interjected that her feet were tired from walking all over campus. Being the gentleman and opportunist that I am, I offered to rub them for her to which she eagerly accepted.
She swiveled her chair so that her body was facing me and slipped her feet out of her flip flops and lay them on my thigh. He feet were small, probably between a size 5 and 6, with tiny little curved toes and some color of polish on them. She put her book in her lap as I started to kneed the sole of her foot with my thumbs. Her feet were pretty soft and had very few rough spots. It was pretty clear that she probably got regular pedicures since her feet were so soft and she just seemed like that type. She'd flex her foot occasionally and tell me how nice it felt to have someone rub her feet for her after a long day walking between classes.
After a few minutes or so of rubbing her feet, the more curious side of me kicked in. I was curious if she was ticklish at all. After having a small "should I or shouldn't I" interior debate with myself, I realized what was there to lose? So, with her feet still on my lap, I trace a single finger down the sole of her foot lightly. A smile broke on her face and she looked up at me with her eyes, giving me one of those playful "what are you up to," looks while still keeping her head down at her book. I gave her a playful smile back and went back to rubbing her foot. After a few minutes I lightly tickled the sole of her foot again, this time she didn't look up but wiggled her foot a bit as though she were trying to kick my hand away.
We kept up the little game for a bit, me lightly dragging my finger up her sole and her attempting to ignore it as she read. Finally, I guess the distraction became a bit too much as she looked up over her reading material and made a comment about how it was difficult to study with me tickling her foot. She never really attempted to move her foot off my lap to that point, which kind of keyed me into the notion that to some degree this was all a game. I then replied with some comment about how she should stop reading then. She rolled her eyes and attempted to kick at me with one of her feet, which seemed like a license to up the ante.
I grabbed ahold of her ankles and swiveled my chair so that I had a good angle to grip her ankles under my arm. It must have been at that moment that she realized how things had escalated as she started to squirm and try to pry her feet away; however, I had a pretty good grip on her ankles though so that wasn't happening. She started to beg me not to tickle her feet, but she was soon cutoff by her own giggles and laughter as I started to lightly tickle her feet with my free hand. She gave her best effort to keep from falling out of her chair, but that effort was in vain as I began to scribble my fingers along her feet. She fell out of her chair and was literally on her back on the library floor with her feet still hooked under my arm.
The intense tickling caused her giggles and laughter to turn into squeals and a stream of laughter as she flopped on the floor like a fish out of water. I tickled all over her tiny little feet with my free hand as she begged the whole time for me to stop between her cute little squeals. I'd worm my index finger between her cute little toes and that only made her laugh louder and squirm with greater earnest. To this day I'm surprised someone didn't rush back there to see what was the matter and to find the origin of this laughter. I guess that it only seemed louder being in the room and that no one could hear too well through the doors.
I loved watching her cute little frame flop and squirm violently on the ground as she slapped at my shins and legs to try and get me to stop. I love watching her feet kick and wiggle in my lap as I ran my fingers across them. I also loved watching her let soles turn red from all of the scraping and tickling. In fact, I loved watching it all so much that I didn't even notice the guy now standing at the desk. As I saw him I dropped her ankles like I had just heard a gun shot.
I'm sure that my face was completely flushed from being caught "in the act." Being quick on my feet, I asked if I could help him as Andi lay on the ground catching her breath. He asked about some article or journal. Being completely ignorant of the periodicals area, I told him that I wasn't sure but maybe Andi knew. By this point, she had recovered to some extent. Between gasps of air she pointed out where the document could be found. As he left to go and retrieve it, he made some comment like "have fun you two."
Both of us were fairly embarrassed and she went back to work. After a few minutes of awkward silence I excused myself from the area and left. That was the only time I ever got to tickle Andi as a month or so later I realized that our friendship was never going to advance past flirtation. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story and as always feedback is appreciated.
For a few months, before I became disillusioned with the possibility of us dating, I would visit Andi nearly every day. She worked in the periodicals area which was off in the back part of the library and rarely saw any through traffic. I imagine it was boring to be there at a desk for hours on end, and the presence of an interested young man bearing coffee and conversation helped pass the time. We'd talk about different topics and interests like movies, tv shows, and general campus events.
We'd been doing this song and dance for a few weeks when I finally got an opportunity to tickle her. I showed up, as usual with coffee in hand, and she was working on some assignment for one of her classes. The periodicals area was practically a ghost town and we were the only two back there. We chatted for a bit, mostly about things that were of no importance since I can't remember them now, as she sipped her coffee and worked on school work. At some point in the conversation she interjected that her feet were tired from walking all over campus. Being the gentleman and opportunist that I am, I offered to rub them for her to which she eagerly accepted.
She swiveled her chair so that her body was facing me and slipped her feet out of her flip flops and lay them on my thigh. He feet were small, probably between a size 5 and 6, with tiny little curved toes and some color of polish on them. She put her book in her lap as I started to kneed the sole of her foot with my thumbs. Her feet were pretty soft and had very few rough spots. It was pretty clear that she probably got regular pedicures since her feet were so soft and she just seemed like that type. She'd flex her foot occasionally and tell me how nice it felt to have someone rub her feet for her after a long day walking between classes.
After a few minutes or so of rubbing her feet, the more curious side of me kicked in. I was curious if she was ticklish at all. After having a small "should I or shouldn't I" interior debate with myself, I realized what was there to lose? So, with her feet still on my lap, I trace a single finger down the sole of her foot lightly. A smile broke on her face and she looked up at me with her eyes, giving me one of those playful "what are you up to," looks while still keeping her head down at her book. I gave her a playful smile back and went back to rubbing her foot. After a few minutes I lightly tickled the sole of her foot again, this time she didn't look up but wiggled her foot a bit as though she were trying to kick my hand away.
We kept up the little game for a bit, me lightly dragging my finger up her sole and her attempting to ignore it as she read. Finally, I guess the distraction became a bit too much as she looked up over her reading material and made a comment about how it was difficult to study with me tickling her foot. She never really attempted to move her foot off my lap to that point, which kind of keyed me into the notion that to some degree this was all a game. I then replied with some comment about how she should stop reading then. She rolled her eyes and attempted to kick at me with one of her feet, which seemed like a license to up the ante.
I grabbed ahold of her ankles and swiveled my chair so that I had a good angle to grip her ankles under my arm. It must have been at that moment that she realized how things had escalated as she started to squirm and try to pry her feet away; however, I had a pretty good grip on her ankles though so that wasn't happening. She started to beg me not to tickle her feet, but she was soon cutoff by her own giggles and laughter as I started to lightly tickle her feet with my free hand. She gave her best effort to keep from falling out of her chair, but that effort was in vain as I began to scribble my fingers along her feet. She fell out of her chair and was literally on her back on the library floor with her feet still hooked under my arm.
The intense tickling caused her giggles and laughter to turn into squeals and a stream of laughter as she flopped on the floor like a fish out of water. I tickled all over her tiny little feet with my free hand as she begged the whole time for me to stop between her cute little squeals. I'd worm my index finger between her cute little toes and that only made her laugh louder and squirm with greater earnest. To this day I'm surprised someone didn't rush back there to see what was the matter and to find the origin of this laughter. I guess that it only seemed louder being in the room and that no one could hear too well through the doors.
I loved watching her cute little frame flop and squirm violently on the ground as she slapped at my shins and legs to try and get me to stop. I love watching her feet kick and wiggle in my lap as I ran my fingers across them. I also loved watching her let soles turn red from all of the scraping and tickling. In fact, I loved watching it all so much that I didn't even notice the guy now standing at the desk. As I saw him I dropped her ankles like I had just heard a gun shot.
I'm sure that my face was completely flushed from being caught "in the act." Being quick on my feet, I asked if I could help him as Andi lay on the ground catching her breath. He asked about some article or journal. Being completely ignorant of the periodicals area, I told him that I wasn't sure but maybe Andi knew. By this point, she had recovered to some extent. Between gasps of air she pointed out where the document could be found. As he left to go and retrieve it, he made some comment like "have fun you two."
Both of us were fairly embarrassed and she went back to work. After a few minutes of awkward silence I excused myself from the area and left. That was the only time I ever got to tickle Andi as a month or so later I realized that our friendship was never going to advance past flirtation. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the story and as always feedback is appreciated.
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Thanks for sharing your experience here. 
