dahoochman
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Sep 16, 2002
- Messages
- 364
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- 28
THE CHAT ROOM GUY – Part 1
Note: Part 1 does NOT include a lot of tickling, but rather sets up Part 2 of the story nicely.
I recall it was a chilly early spring Saturday night. I remember looking out the window three or four times, not sure why, just nervous habit I guess. I yelled to my wife "Hon, it's almost 7:00". "I'm almost ready", she yelled back. I walked down the hallway towards our bedroom, and turned the corner into the room, where she was getting ready. When I entered the room, Linda was standing in front of the closet, back to me, wearing only her bra and panties, looking for a blouse. She picked a lacey black button-front one, with sheer arms and back, and pulled it out and held it up against a short black skirt that was in her left hand already. She turned to me and asked, "Do you think he will like this?" "Of course he will Hon", I replied. Anyone would.
There was something different about her tonight. It took me a minute, but I started noticing the differences. Her long hair looked incredible. She usually wore her hair up, in a stylish yet simple way. Today her hair was down - parted in front ala Jennifer Aniston, a very sexy look. She was wearing a huge amount of makeup too, especially eye makeup, which she normally does not do. Lots of blue shadow over her eyes. Alot of blush on her cheeks. A far cry from the almost plain Jane I was used to seeing on a normal day. While a very attractive woman, Linda hates to draw attention to her self, rather she likes to just "blend in". Simple hairstyle. Very little makeup. Conservative dress. But not tonight. No I was not used to seeing her up like this.
For a minute, I started to daydream. Thinking back to that fateful night she walked in on me while I was in the chat room - she was supposed to be asleep. I remember how upset she was that night - at first anyway. She knew that I would go online after she went to sleep, but she had no idea what I was doing. She got suspicious. One day she decided to check the cookies and temp files on the PC, and had figured out that I had created another AOL screen name, and suspected I was looking at things I should not have been, or worse - cheating on her. So she deiced to “check up” on me that night. It took me several minutes to explain what I was doing, and why. I had never shared my interest in stockings, heels, legs, feet and tickling to her. Not until that night. I tried to explain my "fetish". I tried to explain how much talking about her and her sexy legs with other men turned me on. She became intrigued.
I remember showing her the Stockings and Heels chat rooms. I remember the two of us sitting there, watching the childish banter as it unfolded on the screen. I had created a screen name for both of us, and I showed her the profile, which included her vital stats - age, weight, height, occupation, and details on how much she liked showing off her sexy legs in nylons. I also mentioned how incredibly ticklish her feet were. She chuckled at my description of her. "God Hon, you make me sound like a model", she laughed. "And why does everyone need to know how ticklish I am"? She asked. "Guys like that hon., believe me", I replied.
Then the IM's started popping up. Questions like "What did she wear today" and "Does she wear thigh high's" etc. Of course, some of the questions were of a sexual nature, and we ignored those. Then more and more questions. Then, after watching for a few minutes, she started to reply some of them. That was it - she was hooked.
I emerged from my daydream to Linda scurrying around the room. She laid her clothes out on the bed, and walked over to the dresser and went to her nylons drawer. She picked out a pair of sheer tan nylons, and sat on the edge of the bed, sliding the nylons up her left leg first, then her right. Then she stood, pulled the nylons all the way up, and grabbed her skirt and stepped in to it, which fell a few inches above her knees, but had a rather flashy front walking slit that went well up her thigh. She then slipped on the blouse, buttoning it up to almost her neck, and then laughing to herself and undoing a button or two to reveal some cleavage. Finally, she needed to choose a pair of shoes. Back to the closet.
As she shuffled through the literally dozens and dozens of pairs of shoes she had in the closet, I started to daydream again. Back to the day I walked in after work to find her on the PC in a chat room. She had signed in and was feverishly typing away, as IM after IM popped up on her screen. Some were very vulgar. Some were men who didn't believe she was a woman, accusing her of being a man and pretending to be a woman. Those would make her angry I recall. They would ask detailed questions about things like her bra size, dress size, and questions about "female" issues that really only a woman should know. Some would persist that she really wasn't a woman. Some would immediately start asking very personal questions, some would request to talk on the phone. As fast as she answered one IM, three more would pop up. I laughed, and went upstairs to the bedroom to get changed. After a minute or two she walked in behind me. I didn’t get a chance to say a word, as she pushed me on to the bed. All this flirting online was definitely turning her on. I was loving life.
Several more times I came home to find her on AOL, chatting away. After almost every IM session, she would come upstairs, all worked up and ready to go. I never dreamed that the AOL chat rooms would have such an effect on our love life. Then, one day after work, she shocked the hell out of me. As I sat on the couch watching TV, she came upstairs after chatting and sat next to me. She crossed her still stockinged legs seductively, and started to play with my hair. “Hey Hon, I want to ask you something”, she said, all the while twirling my hair with her fingers. “Uh oh, this is never good”, I replied, knowing that whenever she got like this it meant that she wanted something. Then she said it. “There’s a guy from the chat rooms I want to meet”. I was immediately blown away. I had never expected this. I remember stumbling over my words, saying things like “what” and “why”. I stood up, upset, not knowing what to do, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back down on to the couch. “Sit down silly, let me explain”.
While chatting in the chat rooms, Linda had met “Ron”. She started to tell me about her new friend. He was in his forties, never married, no children, and worked in a factory doing maintenance. He had a small apartment about 45 minutes from our house. They had exchanged several pictures, Ron sending basic poses of himself, while Linda sent several pictures of the two of us at a wedding the previous year. He wasn’t attractive at all, he was a small guy, about 5 foot 5 inches tall, with a thin build - maybe 140 pounds. His hair was receeding badly, and his teeth looked bad. He reminded me of Woody Allen, although Linda disagreed. Then Linda explained what she had in mind. “Remember when you told me how talking to other men about me was a turn on for you. Well, I’ve been going online these past few weeks talking in the chat room, and most the men were very vulgar, or were just looking for sex, just acting like horny teenagers. Then I met Ron, and he is so different. He is very sweet. He thinks you’re the luckiest man alive”. “Well lucky me” I replied sarcastically. Then she explained further. “Will you just listen and be nice please? Anyway, we got to talking, and I just feel so badly for him. He was picked on all of his younger years. Women never want to talk to him, either because he is short, or not good looking, or because he doesn’t have a lot of money. I just feel so bad for him, and he is so sweet to me, always telling me how beautiful I am, how sexy I am, how lucky we are”. “OK fine, so he seems nice online, maybe he’s a friggin axe murderer or something”, I replied sarcastically. “Why does he insist on meeting you?” I asked. “Well” she replied “it was kinda my idea.” At this point I was beyond shocked. “YOUR IDEA?” I shot back. “Yes, my idea, now will you listen to me?” and with that she placed her stockinged legs on my lap. “Think about it, you love talking to other men about me, wouldn’t you like to see another man looking at my in say a very VERY short skirt, and sexy heels?” With that, she started rubbing her stockinged feet together, and I couldn’t help but look down. “Now” she continued, “imagine him slipping off my heels, touching my feet, wouldn’t you enjoy that?” With that, I started rubbing her feet gently, sliding my hands slowly over the sheer silky nylons that covered her feet. I ran a finger gently up the sole and instep of her left foot, and she giggled. “Or maybe” I said with an evil grin “He’ll tickle you LIKE THIS!” and as I finished saying this I wrapped my arm around her ankles, and started tickling her squirming feet. She immediately started squirming, squealing in laughter.
I snapped out of my daydream to Linda snapping at me. “Hon, how do these look?” as she slipped on a pair of black strappy sandals. I must have still been in space, as she snapped at me again. “HON, do you like these?” I quickly looked her up and down, and started to fumble for words. “Um, yes, Hon those look nice.” With that, Linda buckled the straps on her shoes and stood up, looking in the mirror. I came up behind her. “Hon, you don’t HAVE to do this.” She turned her head and said “But I want to.” She turned around and faced me, and gave me a hug, and whispered in my ear “I want to do this FOR YOU. I want to make your fantasies come true” With that, we walked out of the room, I helped her slip on her jacket, and we headed out to the car.
NEXT – Part 2 Meeting The Chat Room Guy
Note: Part 1 does NOT include a lot of tickling, but rather sets up Part 2 of the story nicely.
I recall it was a chilly early spring Saturday night. I remember looking out the window three or four times, not sure why, just nervous habit I guess. I yelled to my wife "Hon, it's almost 7:00". "I'm almost ready", she yelled back. I walked down the hallway towards our bedroom, and turned the corner into the room, where she was getting ready. When I entered the room, Linda was standing in front of the closet, back to me, wearing only her bra and panties, looking for a blouse. She picked a lacey black button-front one, with sheer arms and back, and pulled it out and held it up against a short black skirt that was in her left hand already. She turned to me and asked, "Do you think he will like this?" "Of course he will Hon", I replied. Anyone would.
There was something different about her tonight. It took me a minute, but I started noticing the differences. Her long hair looked incredible. She usually wore her hair up, in a stylish yet simple way. Today her hair was down - parted in front ala Jennifer Aniston, a very sexy look. She was wearing a huge amount of makeup too, especially eye makeup, which she normally does not do. Lots of blue shadow over her eyes. Alot of blush on her cheeks. A far cry from the almost plain Jane I was used to seeing on a normal day. While a very attractive woman, Linda hates to draw attention to her self, rather she likes to just "blend in". Simple hairstyle. Very little makeup. Conservative dress. But not tonight. No I was not used to seeing her up like this.
For a minute, I started to daydream. Thinking back to that fateful night she walked in on me while I was in the chat room - she was supposed to be asleep. I remember how upset she was that night - at first anyway. She knew that I would go online after she went to sleep, but she had no idea what I was doing. She got suspicious. One day she decided to check the cookies and temp files on the PC, and had figured out that I had created another AOL screen name, and suspected I was looking at things I should not have been, or worse - cheating on her. So she deiced to “check up” on me that night. It took me several minutes to explain what I was doing, and why. I had never shared my interest in stockings, heels, legs, feet and tickling to her. Not until that night. I tried to explain my "fetish". I tried to explain how much talking about her and her sexy legs with other men turned me on. She became intrigued.
I remember showing her the Stockings and Heels chat rooms. I remember the two of us sitting there, watching the childish banter as it unfolded on the screen. I had created a screen name for both of us, and I showed her the profile, which included her vital stats - age, weight, height, occupation, and details on how much she liked showing off her sexy legs in nylons. I also mentioned how incredibly ticklish her feet were. She chuckled at my description of her. "God Hon, you make me sound like a model", she laughed. "And why does everyone need to know how ticklish I am"? She asked. "Guys like that hon., believe me", I replied.
Then the IM's started popping up. Questions like "What did she wear today" and "Does she wear thigh high's" etc. Of course, some of the questions were of a sexual nature, and we ignored those. Then more and more questions. Then, after watching for a few minutes, she started to reply some of them. That was it - she was hooked.
I emerged from my daydream to Linda scurrying around the room. She laid her clothes out on the bed, and walked over to the dresser and went to her nylons drawer. She picked out a pair of sheer tan nylons, and sat on the edge of the bed, sliding the nylons up her left leg first, then her right. Then she stood, pulled the nylons all the way up, and grabbed her skirt and stepped in to it, which fell a few inches above her knees, but had a rather flashy front walking slit that went well up her thigh. She then slipped on the blouse, buttoning it up to almost her neck, and then laughing to herself and undoing a button or two to reveal some cleavage. Finally, she needed to choose a pair of shoes. Back to the closet.
As she shuffled through the literally dozens and dozens of pairs of shoes she had in the closet, I started to daydream again. Back to the day I walked in after work to find her on the PC in a chat room. She had signed in and was feverishly typing away, as IM after IM popped up on her screen. Some were very vulgar. Some were men who didn't believe she was a woman, accusing her of being a man and pretending to be a woman. Those would make her angry I recall. They would ask detailed questions about things like her bra size, dress size, and questions about "female" issues that really only a woman should know. Some would persist that she really wasn't a woman. Some would immediately start asking very personal questions, some would request to talk on the phone. As fast as she answered one IM, three more would pop up. I laughed, and went upstairs to the bedroom to get changed. After a minute or two she walked in behind me. I didn’t get a chance to say a word, as she pushed me on to the bed. All this flirting online was definitely turning her on. I was loving life.
Several more times I came home to find her on AOL, chatting away. After almost every IM session, she would come upstairs, all worked up and ready to go. I never dreamed that the AOL chat rooms would have such an effect on our love life. Then, one day after work, she shocked the hell out of me. As I sat on the couch watching TV, she came upstairs after chatting and sat next to me. She crossed her still stockinged legs seductively, and started to play with my hair. “Hey Hon, I want to ask you something”, she said, all the while twirling my hair with her fingers. “Uh oh, this is never good”, I replied, knowing that whenever she got like this it meant that she wanted something. Then she said it. “There’s a guy from the chat rooms I want to meet”. I was immediately blown away. I had never expected this. I remember stumbling over my words, saying things like “what” and “why”. I stood up, upset, not knowing what to do, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back down on to the couch. “Sit down silly, let me explain”.
While chatting in the chat rooms, Linda had met “Ron”. She started to tell me about her new friend. He was in his forties, never married, no children, and worked in a factory doing maintenance. He had a small apartment about 45 minutes from our house. They had exchanged several pictures, Ron sending basic poses of himself, while Linda sent several pictures of the two of us at a wedding the previous year. He wasn’t attractive at all, he was a small guy, about 5 foot 5 inches tall, with a thin build - maybe 140 pounds. His hair was receeding badly, and his teeth looked bad. He reminded me of Woody Allen, although Linda disagreed. Then Linda explained what she had in mind. “Remember when you told me how talking to other men about me was a turn on for you. Well, I’ve been going online these past few weeks talking in the chat room, and most the men were very vulgar, or were just looking for sex, just acting like horny teenagers. Then I met Ron, and he is so different. He is very sweet. He thinks you’re the luckiest man alive”. “Well lucky me” I replied sarcastically. Then she explained further. “Will you just listen and be nice please? Anyway, we got to talking, and I just feel so badly for him. He was picked on all of his younger years. Women never want to talk to him, either because he is short, or not good looking, or because he doesn’t have a lot of money. I just feel so bad for him, and he is so sweet to me, always telling me how beautiful I am, how sexy I am, how lucky we are”. “OK fine, so he seems nice online, maybe he’s a friggin axe murderer or something”, I replied sarcastically. “Why does he insist on meeting you?” I asked. “Well” she replied “it was kinda my idea.” At this point I was beyond shocked. “YOUR IDEA?” I shot back. “Yes, my idea, now will you listen to me?” and with that she placed her stockinged legs on my lap. “Think about it, you love talking to other men about me, wouldn’t you like to see another man looking at my in say a very VERY short skirt, and sexy heels?” With that, she started rubbing her stockinged feet together, and I couldn’t help but look down. “Now” she continued, “imagine him slipping off my heels, touching my feet, wouldn’t you enjoy that?” With that, I started rubbing her feet gently, sliding my hands slowly over the sheer silky nylons that covered her feet. I ran a finger gently up the sole and instep of her left foot, and she giggled. “Or maybe” I said with an evil grin “He’ll tickle you LIKE THIS!” and as I finished saying this I wrapped my arm around her ankles, and started tickling her squirming feet. She immediately started squirming, squealing in laughter.
I snapped out of my daydream to Linda snapping at me. “Hon, how do these look?” as she slipped on a pair of black strappy sandals. I must have still been in space, as she snapped at me again. “HON, do you like these?” I quickly looked her up and down, and started to fumble for words. “Um, yes, Hon those look nice.” With that, Linda buckled the straps on her shoes and stood up, looking in the mirror. I came up behind her. “Hon, you don’t HAVE to do this.” She turned her head and said “But I want to.” She turned around and faced me, and gave me a hug, and whispered in my ear “I want to do this FOR YOU. I want to make your fantasies come true” With that, we walked out of the room, I helped her slip on her jacket, and we headed out to the car.
NEXT – Part 2 Meeting The Chat Room Guy
