YouNeverKnow175
TMF Master
- Joined
- Sep 30, 2002
- Messages
- 810
- Points
- 18
I seem to be going through a....creative period....
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"Welcome Mallory and Drew! Come on in!" Mrs. Dexter greeted them warmly at the door.
Mallory took a deep breath. She hadn't been to one of her parents' friends high-society cocktail parties in a long time and she wasn't particularly excited about it. She felt even more awkward introducing her boyfriend to that world she'd grown up in.
"Nice to see you," she said to the hosts - Mr. Dexter had joined his wife at the door. Mallory’s parents also appeared at the door and greeting her and Drew. Both couples were in their early sixties and had greying hair, but looked quite young, vibrant, and attractive for their age.
"Let me take your coats," Mr. Dexter said. It was a warm September day, but it was raining.
“Thank you,” Mallory said, revealing a tight-fitting, sexy maroon dress that accentuated her model-like frame. Mallory was stunningly beautiful, with light brown shoulder-length hair, brown eyes, standing 5’9” with gorgeous legs. “I have to change into my nice shoes, too, actually….is there a place I can do that?”
Mallory had on her water-proof, low-cut Merrill hiking shoes over her black nylons. It was a bit of a funny look and Mallory even felt self-conscious walking into the party like that, but she had been doing errands all afternoon before the party in the rain and hadn’t wanted to ruin her nice shoes.
“Oh, sure! Of course,” Mrs. Dexter said. She motioned to a small couch just inside the front hallway. “You can sit right there.”
Somehow, Mallory had the idea that she would have a more private place to change her shoes, though she wasn’t sure why she particularly cared for that. “Oh, okay, thanks,” she said, walking over to the couch and sitting down. Drew followed her, staying close amidst the small crowd of older friends of her parents.
Mallory began to untie her shoelaces. Her feet were hot - temperature-wise, that is. The temperature had been close to 80 degrees and she had been walking around outside wearing the hiking shoes for several hours. She would never have worn nylons on an afternoon like that if she hadn’t been heading to this fancy-schmancy cocktail party straight from her errands.
She felt somewhat self-conscious as she removed her left shoe, revealing her - yes, hot, on multiple levels - size 8 1/2 feet, her pretty toes which were painted a light purple.
As Mrs. Dexter walked by, chatting now with Mallory’s parents as they headed toward the bar, she suddenly stopped and looked down at Mallory. “Oh my goodness, I love this pattern on your tights!” she exclaimed. She reached down and placed her hand on Mallory’s foot, which was crossed over her right knee as she changed shoes. Mallory suddenly let out a few short breaths - it was hard to say if it was purely out of nervousness or if just the presence of Mrs. Dexter’s hand on her foot had her fighting laughter.
“Look at this zig-zag! So stylish!” She placed her finger on the zig-zag pattern on Mallory’s tights, right on the sole of her foot.
Mallory flexed her foot and let out a high-pitched shriek of surprise: “Woooooo!!!”
“Oh my, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tickle you! I just love this pattern!” Mrs. Dexter said, affectionately stroking Mallory’s sole with her long, red-painted fingernails as if she was genuinely trying to comfort or soothe her her. Of course, the sensation on the bottom of Mallory’s foot was nothing but soothing and it made Mallory squirm backward into a half-lying-down position on the couch.
Mrs. Dexter instinctively held on to Mallory’s foot as Mallory slid onto the couch, as if to prevent her from falling, even though Mallory was simply desperately trying to squirm away from any threat of tickles.
“Oh! Mallory, honey! I had no idea you were so ticklish!” She sensed Mallory’s nervousness and was holding on to Mallory’s toes affectionately, as if to convey that she was only trying to be kind, complimentary and gentle.
Mallory breathed quickly and loudly. She couldn’t open her mouth to speak for fear that the laughter would come pouring out, and she loathed to find herself losing control from being tickled in a half-lying down posture in front of a group of people.
“Oh, beautiful polish!” Mrs. Dexter said admiringly, looking down at Mallory’s purple toes in her hand beneath her dark nylons. The nylons were the type that, though black, were very sleek and could easily been completely seen through. She softly and affectionately rubbed Mallory’s second and third toes between her fingers.
Mallory couldn’t take it. She threw her head back and began to giggle.
“Oh, my!” Mrs. Dexter exclaimed. “It seems nothing I can do can keep from tickling you!”
Amidst her giggles, Mallory thought, YOU COULD LET GO OF MY FOOT, but she didn’t dare say it for fear of seeming rude at her parents’ friends fancy party. Manners were paramount among this group.
“Oh, that’s Mallory!” Mallory’s mom chuckled. “She’s very, very ticklish.”
“I can see that!” Mrs. Dexter exclaimed in amazement. “I mean, just to touch her toes, and she can’t stop laughing!” She was still holding Mallory’s foot and Mallory was still squirming. She felt so humiliated - 29-years-old and wiggling around on a couch like a little schoolgirl while her mother’s friend touched her foot.
“Your foot is so warm, sweetie!” Mrs. Dexter said. She rubbed her palm repeatedly around the bottom of Mallory’s foot.
“Ohgod!!!” Mallory blurted and broke into even heavier giggles. She slid into a fully horizontal position on the couch as she tried to break free.
“My goodness, Mal! I’m so sorry I keep tickling you!” Mrs. Dexter said with sincerity. “I’ve just never seen someone so sensitive before!”
“That’s Mallory…” her mother said again. “You should see her during pedicures!”
“Well, I can’t imagine you can get them, with feet this sensitive!” said Mrs. Dexter in astonishment. She looked at Mallory for an explanation. Mallory was at that point able to pull her foot away, but couldn’t get any words out.
Instead, her mom continued, “I’ve always tried to warn her before she goes, ‘Mally, remember, it’s going to tickle you like crazy! You always forget how bad it is!’ But she doesn’t listen. For what it’s worth, though, she actually does pretty well up until the pumice. But once that starts….” She demonstrated by reaching down making a “scrubbing” motion on her daughter’s sole with her fingernails. Mallory shrieked, giggled again, and quickly pulled her foot back.
“I’m surprised you can go at all!” said Mrs. Dexter. “You’re very brave, you must like to keep your feet pretty!”
Mallory nodded with a nervous smile.
At this point, her dad felt the need to drive home the point. “You see,” he said in an almost pontificating manner. “Mallory is so ticklish that I can do this - “ he held up his hands, still several feet away from her, and wiggled his fingers in her direction - “and she will freak out.”
Mallory cringed and wrapped her arms around her own torso protectively. “Dad…no…..not here….” she said in fear.
“See, look at this!” he said, clearly very amused and pleased with himself. “I’m not even touching her. They call this ‘air ticklish.’ Mallory is ‘air ticklish.’”
Mallory held her hands straight out in defense and began giggling. “Dad…hahahah….Dad, stopstopstop….no…no…no….”
A small crowd had gathered around to watch this little scene that had unfolded. Another woman chimed in, “I remember this about you, Mallory! I remember seeing you squealing and squirming, just like this, as a little girl.”
Mallory turned an even brighter red. Was this really happening?
“Gosh, Mallory,” Mrs. Dexter said. “I know you love to go with your mom and get massages at the spa, too - but how do you handle it? Do you let them touch your feet?”
There was a brief silent pause. Her dad had stopped air tickling her and Mallory realized the question apparently was more than rhetorical and everyone seemed to be actually expecting an answer from her. She half wanted her mom to save her from having to talk about being ticklish by answering, but she also loathed the idea of her mom spilling any more embarrassing stories.
“Um….” Mallory said. “I….I do let them….”
“Well, how can you stand it?” Mrs. Dexter seemed genuinely perplexed. “One little finger on your foot -“ she reached down and stroked Mallory’s sole again, causing Mallory to yelp and curl into a ball - “and you’re in complete hysteria!”
Again, silence, and an apparent expectation that she actually have this conversation. “Um….it’s….it’s hard…..sometimes it tickles….”
Drew, meanwhile, a lover of tickling himself, was experiencing a thrill like he’d never before. The intense mixture of jealousy and arousal - seeing other people tickling her, not knowing how long they were going to do it or when they would stop or how Mallory would react - was proving more erotic than he ever could have dreamed. He was incredibly grateful that his blazer was just long enough that he could cover most of his crotch area with it.
“Sometimes!” Mrs. Dexter cried out. “You must be a giggling mess in there when they massage your feet!”
“Oh, she is,” her mom assured Mrs. Dexter. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. She’s actually gotten a bit better. She used to be much worse. Tell her about what you tried to do, Mally, how you tried to teach yourself to be less ticklish.”
Mallory couldn’t believe it. It was true, she’d made futile attempts in her teenage years to train herself in breath techniques and concentration to be able to better withstand tickling, since she had such a love/hate relationship with massages and because her family loved to tickle her so. But this was not the shallow cocktail party conversation she’d come here expecting.
“Um…” she said with a sigh. “It’s true. I tried to make myself less ticklish…”
“Did it work?” Mrs. Dexter asked.
“Not very well…” Mallory said sheepishly.
“Well what did you try?”
“Um….I tried to teach myself to relax….breathe….”
“Okay, let’s try it. Let’s see if it makes a difference! I’m actually quite curious!” Before Mallory could protest, Mrs. Dexter sat down on the couch and pulled Mallory’s feet onto her lap. “This little piggy went to market….” She began wiggling each of Mallory’s toes.
Mallory began laughing hard and flailing wildly around the couch. “Hahahhaa STOP!! Hahaha Mrs- HAHAHA STOP!!!”
“Breathe, Sweetie. Use your control techniques!” She still seemed to be quite sincere in her wish to help, rather than torture, her old family friend. “This little piggy stayed home…”
Mallory took one deep breath and then exploded into laughter again. “HAAAHEHEEEEHOOHOHOHOHO - it’s the - hahahah - it’s because - hahahaHAAAAA - it’s - ohgodstop - hahahahaaaaaaaa HEEEEEEE -“
“This little piggy ate roast beef….what is it, Mally? It’s because what?” Mrs. Dexter seemed genuinely curious to understand.
“HOHOHHOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! Eeeeeeheeeeheeeehehehehehehee!” Mallory’s laughter grew heavier and wilder.
“This little piggy had none….”
“HAHAHA MY - HAHAHAHAHAAA - YOUHAVETOSTOP pleasestopstopplease - HAHHAAA - MY - HAHAHA….TOES!!!”
“Oh!! Your toes are the most ticklish?”
“HAHAHAYESSSSS!!!!!! STOP!!!” Mallory’s eyes bulged in astonishment of the intensity of the sensations she was experiencing.
“Well good thing we’re playing ‘This Little Piggy’ then! And this little piggy went WEE WEE WEE, all the way home!!” She spidered her fingernails all over both of Mallory’s soles in her lap. Mallory thrashed on the couch and then attempted to dive off of it. Mrs. Dexter held onto her feet and continued tickling for longer than most people expected. Mallory begged and laughed and begged and pleaded and shrieked and panted. Finally she relented, after about a minute straight of tickling Mallory’s exquisitely sensitive soles.
Mallory had half-squirmed off the couch and slid fully onto the floor to get away from Mrs. Dexter once she stopped the tickling. She lay there, panting, trying to catch her breath. At this point, everyone who was at the party - around twenty people - were all watching.
“That’s our girl,” her dad said, breaking the awkward silence. “Just as ticklish as she always has been. Nothing’s changed!”
“Well I’m glad I know now,” said Mrs. Dexter with a smile. “I’ll be much more careful next time I try to touch the pattern on your stockings!” She quickly downed the rest of her cocktail and walked to the bar for another.
“I’m going to go change my shoes….in the bathroom,” Mallory said.
“I’m going to….make sure she’s okay….” Drew said, following her into the bathroom, unsure he could ever remember being so aroused.
“That’s Mallory,” her mom said yet again. “So very ticklish!”
THE END
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"Welcome Mallory and Drew! Come on in!" Mrs. Dexter greeted them warmly at the door.
Mallory took a deep breath. She hadn't been to one of her parents' friends high-society cocktail parties in a long time and she wasn't particularly excited about it. She felt even more awkward introducing her boyfriend to that world she'd grown up in.
"Nice to see you," she said to the hosts - Mr. Dexter had joined his wife at the door. Mallory’s parents also appeared at the door and greeting her and Drew. Both couples were in their early sixties and had greying hair, but looked quite young, vibrant, and attractive for their age.
"Let me take your coats," Mr. Dexter said. It was a warm September day, but it was raining.
“Thank you,” Mallory said, revealing a tight-fitting, sexy maroon dress that accentuated her model-like frame. Mallory was stunningly beautiful, with light brown shoulder-length hair, brown eyes, standing 5’9” with gorgeous legs. “I have to change into my nice shoes, too, actually….is there a place I can do that?”
Mallory had on her water-proof, low-cut Merrill hiking shoes over her black nylons. It was a bit of a funny look and Mallory even felt self-conscious walking into the party like that, but she had been doing errands all afternoon before the party in the rain and hadn’t wanted to ruin her nice shoes.
“Oh, sure! Of course,” Mrs. Dexter said. She motioned to a small couch just inside the front hallway. “You can sit right there.”
Somehow, Mallory had the idea that she would have a more private place to change her shoes, though she wasn’t sure why she particularly cared for that. “Oh, okay, thanks,” she said, walking over to the couch and sitting down. Drew followed her, staying close amidst the small crowd of older friends of her parents.
Mallory began to untie her shoelaces. Her feet were hot - temperature-wise, that is. The temperature had been close to 80 degrees and she had been walking around outside wearing the hiking shoes for several hours. She would never have worn nylons on an afternoon like that if she hadn’t been heading to this fancy-schmancy cocktail party straight from her errands.
She felt somewhat self-conscious as she removed her left shoe, revealing her - yes, hot, on multiple levels - size 8 1/2 feet, her pretty toes which were painted a light purple.
As Mrs. Dexter walked by, chatting now with Mallory’s parents as they headed toward the bar, she suddenly stopped and looked down at Mallory. “Oh my goodness, I love this pattern on your tights!” she exclaimed. She reached down and placed her hand on Mallory’s foot, which was crossed over her right knee as she changed shoes. Mallory suddenly let out a few short breaths - it was hard to say if it was purely out of nervousness or if just the presence of Mrs. Dexter’s hand on her foot had her fighting laughter.
“Look at this zig-zag! So stylish!” She placed her finger on the zig-zag pattern on Mallory’s tights, right on the sole of her foot.
Mallory flexed her foot and let out a high-pitched shriek of surprise: “Woooooo!!!”
“Oh my, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tickle you! I just love this pattern!” Mrs. Dexter said, affectionately stroking Mallory’s sole with her long, red-painted fingernails as if she was genuinely trying to comfort or soothe her her. Of course, the sensation on the bottom of Mallory’s foot was nothing but soothing and it made Mallory squirm backward into a half-lying-down position on the couch.
Mrs. Dexter instinctively held on to Mallory’s foot as Mallory slid onto the couch, as if to prevent her from falling, even though Mallory was simply desperately trying to squirm away from any threat of tickles.
“Oh! Mallory, honey! I had no idea you were so ticklish!” She sensed Mallory’s nervousness and was holding on to Mallory’s toes affectionately, as if to convey that she was only trying to be kind, complimentary and gentle.
Mallory breathed quickly and loudly. She couldn’t open her mouth to speak for fear that the laughter would come pouring out, and she loathed to find herself losing control from being tickled in a half-lying down posture in front of a group of people.
“Oh, beautiful polish!” Mrs. Dexter said admiringly, looking down at Mallory’s purple toes in her hand beneath her dark nylons. The nylons were the type that, though black, were very sleek and could easily been completely seen through. She softly and affectionately rubbed Mallory’s second and third toes between her fingers.
Mallory couldn’t take it. She threw her head back and began to giggle.
“Oh, my!” Mrs. Dexter exclaimed. “It seems nothing I can do can keep from tickling you!”
Amidst her giggles, Mallory thought, YOU COULD LET GO OF MY FOOT, but she didn’t dare say it for fear of seeming rude at her parents’ friends fancy party. Manners were paramount among this group.
“Oh, that’s Mallory!” Mallory’s mom chuckled. “She’s very, very ticklish.”
“I can see that!” Mrs. Dexter exclaimed in amazement. “I mean, just to touch her toes, and she can’t stop laughing!” She was still holding Mallory’s foot and Mallory was still squirming. She felt so humiliated - 29-years-old and wiggling around on a couch like a little schoolgirl while her mother’s friend touched her foot.
“Your foot is so warm, sweetie!” Mrs. Dexter said. She rubbed her palm repeatedly around the bottom of Mallory’s foot.
“Ohgod!!!” Mallory blurted and broke into even heavier giggles. She slid into a fully horizontal position on the couch as she tried to break free.
“My goodness, Mal! I’m so sorry I keep tickling you!” Mrs. Dexter said with sincerity. “I’ve just never seen someone so sensitive before!”
“That’s Mallory…” her mother said again. “You should see her during pedicures!”
“Well, I can’t imagine you can get them, with feet this sensitive!” said Mrs. Dexter in astonishment. She looked at Mallory for an explanation. Mallory was at that point able to pull her foot away, but couldn’t get any words out.
Instead, her mom continued, “I’ve always tried to warn her before she goes, ‘Mally, remember, it’s going to tickle you like crazy! You always forget how bad it is!’ But she doesn’t listen. For what it’s worth, though, she actually does pretty well up until the pumice. But once that starts….” She demonstrated by reaching down making a “scrubbing” motion on her daughter’s sole with her fingernails. Mallory shrieked, giggled again, and quickly pulled her foot back.
“I’m surprised you can go at all!” said Mrs. Dexter. “You’re very brave, you must like to keep your feet pretty!”
Mallory nodded with a nervous smile.
At this point, her dad felt the need to drive home the point. “You see,” he said in an almost pontificating manner. “Mallory is so ticklish that I can do this - “ he held up his hands, still several feet away from her, and wiggled his fingers in her direction - “and she will freak out.”
Mallory cringed and wrapped her arms around her own torso protectively. “Dad…no…..not here….” she said in fear.
“See, look at this!” he said, clearly very amused and pleased with himself. “I’m not even touching her. They call this ‘air ticklish.’ Mallory is ‘air ticklish.’”
Mallory held her hands straight out in defense and began giggling. “Dad…hahahah….Dad, stopstopstop….no…no…no….”
A small crowd had gathered around to watch this little scene that had unfolded. Another woman chimed in, “I remember this about you, Mallory! I remember seeing you squealing and squirming, just like this, as a little girl.”
Mallory turned an even brighter red. Was this really happening?
“Gosh, Mallory,” Mrs. Dexter said. “I know you love to go with your mom and get massages at the spa, too - but how do you handle it? Do you let them touch your feet?”
There was a brief silent pause. Her dad had stopped air tickling her and Mallory realized the question apparently was more than rhetorical and everyone seemed to be actually expecting an answer from her. She half wanted her mom to save her from having to talk about being ticklish by answering, but she also loathed the idea of her mom spilling any more embarrassing stories.
“Um….” Mallory said. “I….I do let them….”
“Well, how can you stand it?” Mrs. Dexter seemed genuinely perplexed. “One little finger on your foot -“ she reached down and stroked Mallory’s sole again, causing Mallory to yelp and curl into a ball - “and you’re in complete hysteria!”
Again, silence, and an apparent expectation that she actually have this conversation. “Um….it’s….it’s hard…..sometimes it tickles….”
Drew, meanwhile, a lover of tickling himself, was experiencing a thrill like he’d never before. The intense mixture of jealousy and arousal - seeing other people tickling her, not knowing how long they were going to do it or when they would stop or how Mallory would react - was proving more erotic than he ever could have dreamed. He was incredibly grateful that his blazer was just long enough that he could cover most of his crotch area with it.
“Sometimes!” Mrs. Dexter cried out. “You must be a giggling mess in there when they massage your feet!”
“Oh, she is,” her mom assured Mrs. Dexter. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. She’s actually gotten a bit better. She used to be much worse. Tell her about what you tried to do, Mally, how you tried to teach yourself to be less ticklish.”
Mallory couldn’t believe it. It was true, she’d made futile attempts in her teenage years to train herself in breath techniques and concentration to be able to better withstand tickling, since she had such a love/hate relationship with massages and because her family loved to tickle her so. But this was not the shallow cocktail party conversation she’d come here expecting.
“Um…” she said with a sigh. “It’s true. I tried to make myself less ticklish…”
“Did it work?” Mrs. Dexter asked.
“Not very well…” Mallory said sheepishly.
“Well what did you try?”
“Um….I tried to teach myself to relax….breathe….”
“Okay, let’s try it. Let’s see if it makes a difference! I’m actually quite curious!” Before Mallory could protest, Mrs. Dexter sat down on the couch and pulled Mallory’s feet onto her lap. “This little piggy went to market….” She began wiggling each of Mallory’s toes.
Mallory began laughing hard and flailing wildly around the couch. “Hahahhaa STOP!! Hahaha Mrs- HAHAHA STOP!!!”
“Breathe, Sweetie. Use your control techniques!” She still seemed to be quite sincere in her wish to help, rather than torture, her old family friend. “This little piggy stayed home…”
Mallory took one deep breath and then exploded into laughter again. “HAAAHEHEEEEHOOHOHOHOHO - it’s the - hahahah - it’s because - hahahaHAAAAA - it’s - ohgodstop - hahahahaaaaaaaa HEEEEEEE -“
“This little piggy ate roast beef….what is it, Mally? It’s because what?” Mrs. Dexter seemed genuinely curious to understand.
“HOHOHHOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! Eeeeeeheeeeheeeehehehehehehee!” Mallory’s laughter grew heavier and wilder.
“This little piggy had none….”
“HAHAHA MY - HAHAHAHAHAAA - YOUHAVETOSTOP pleasestopstopplease - HAHHAAA - MY - HAHAHA….TOES!!!”
“Oh!! Your toes are the most ticklish?”
“HAHAHAYESSSSS!!!!!! STOP!!!” Mallory’s eyes bulged in astonishment of the intensity of the sensations she was experiencing.
“Well good thing we’re playing ‘This Little Piggy’ then! And this little piggy went WEE WEE WEE, all the way home!!” She spidered her fingernails all over both of Mallory’s soles in her lap. Mallory thrashed on the couch and then attempted to dive off of it. Mrs. Dexter held onto her feet and continued tickling for longer than most people expected. Mallory begged and laughed and begged and pleaded and shrieked and panted. Finally she relented, after about a minute straight of tickling Mallory’s exquisitely sensitive soles.
Mallory had half-squirmed off the couch and slid fully onto the floor to get away from Mrs. Dexter once she stopped the tickling. She lay there, panting, trying to catch her breath. At this point, everyone who was at the party - around twenty people - were all watching.
“That’s our girl,” her dad said, breaking the awkward silence. “Just as ticklish as she always has been. Nothing’s changed!”
“Well I’m glad I know now,” said Mrs. Dexter with a smile. “I’ll be much more careful next time I try to touch the pattern on your stockings!” She quickly downed the rest of her cocktail and walked to the bar for another.
“I’m going to go change my shoes….in the bathroom,” Mallory said.
“I’m going to….make sure she’s okay….” Drew said, following her into the bathroom, unsure he could ever remember being so aroused.
“That’s Mallory,” her mom said yet again. “So very ticklish!”
THE END
