Ticklish9's
2nd Level Red Feather
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The College Chronicles, Part I
"Flirtation"
First Person, F/M, M/F
May 30th, 2001 Somwhere in PA
I stared eagerly at the clock moving all too slowly around it's sweep. Just one more minute of History 007, and I was free for the weekend...a weekend already planned full of partying, drinking, flirting, and just chilling with my friends. I could hardly wait....
I jumped to my feet the instant the second hand touched the twelve, heading off the wave of students that was already forming in the aisles out of the lecture hall. I zeroed in on Holly Kamarinski, having purposely parked next to her car that morning. She and I were pretty good friends, and she was a lot of fun to hang out with. She was also a pretty attractive girl, standing just about 5'4 with dark, wavy hair and deep brown eyes. Her body was trim and toned, and her feet were rather small, cute, and tanned nicely along the top - something I found irresistable, especially when coupled with the adorable little anklet she always wore. She had early in our friendship noticed my flickering glances downward, and never failed to wear slides or sandals that showed off her feet while we were hanging out. I, of course, returned the favour, for I too had noticed the downward glances she gave me - my own peds were rather smallish, slender, tanned lightly and well taken care of. I never lost the opportunity to wear my own set of sandals while in her company. All in all, it was a pretty good unspoken agreement - I wasn't sure if she thought it would be wierd to discuss something like that; maybe she thought I liked her choice of shoes or her anklet, for all I knew.
I successfully wended my way through the crowd towards her small form, and we walked down to our cars together just as we did every Mon, Wed, and Friday. I invited her to the fraternity party that night, and she cheerfully accepted. We even exchanged a bit of lighthearted flirting - nothing serious, as we were both still pretty shy with the opposite sex, but just enough to tease.
Suddenly, as we were walking, she tripped and stumbled forward. I reached out to catch her, steadying her, and then saw what had happened - she had slipped out of her sandal and tripped on it. She was standing on her one shod foot now, her small barefoot dangling in the air as she struggled to catch her balance the rest of the way. Being the gentleman I am, I bent down to retrieve her lost shoe. Looking at it, it didn't seem to be the type one could just slip out of...she must have done it on purpose then, to gauge my reaction - which, predictably enough, had been to practically stare at her suddenly bared but unbearably cute little foot for as long as I thought safe. I hated being caught. The Irish pride rose in me and called out for what vengeance I could extract - and another part of myself latched onto a way to satisfy my pride while also keeping that adorable little lower extremity exposed for further viewing.
"Bet you want this back, don't you?" I taunted. "Well, I could make you run for it -" and pretended to throw it - "or I could just hang on to it for a bit." She laughed and made a swipe for it, which I countered by holding it high above my head. Now, I'm 5'9, with long limbs befitting a runner. There wasn't a chance she was making that grab, especially on just one leg.
"You give me that back right now, or else!" she demanded, making futile swipes at the sandal.
"Or else what?" I asked, confident that I was in control of this situation.
"Or else THIS" she cried, jumping at me and knocking me backwards onto the grass. I staggered briefly but didn't go down...until her small hands found their way up my shirt and onto my bare stomach, where they promptly went about wreaking ticklish havoc. Holly kept her nails trimmed nicely, not too long and not too short, and she was remarkably adept with them. It didn't help that I was perhaps one of the most ticklish people ever to walk the planet. I'd had quite a rep in High School for being ticklish, but so far it hadn't followed me to college - and I had wanted to keep it that way. The best laid plans...
We went down in a giggling bundle, with me squirming to knock away both her hands with just one of mine, and my other hand trying to keep her sandal as far from her grasp as I could. She quickly snaked one of her hands past my futile defenses, as I grew weaker and weaker from the tickling my poor tummy was recieving, and it shot up towards my upraised armpit. The instant her nails made contact with that sensitive flesh, my arm retracted like it was on springs, firing down and trapping her hand between my arm and my underarm. She took full advantage of that position, wriggling her fingers in the confines I had created. I dissolved into helpless laughter, curling into a fetal position and giving up and pretense of control. She nabbed her shoe from unresisting hands, took her one hand off my stomach - while keeping up the pressure under my arm, leaving me trapped in giggling defenselessness - long enough to slip it back on her foot.
Dealing with the sandal evidently gave her an idea, for right when I expected her hand to start working over my tummy again, I instead felt that usually refreshing breath of fresh air the one feels when one first removes a sandal or shoe. Not refreshing this time - terrifying is more the word. I couldn't do anything to stop her, I knew, which only made it that much more dreadful when I first felt those manicured nails begin their weakness inducing dance on my sensitive arches. My laughter doubled in pitch briefly before reaching the point where it wasn't even audible anymore. My whole body was shaking, and in desperation I flailed about with my hands, trying to latch hold of at least one of her own hands, when suddenly - jackpot! I hadn't caught her hand, but I had found one of her own now-shod feet. I rolled over as though it were simply a reflexive defense, then shot out one hand around her petite ankle, while my other hand quickly worked to pull off the only recently replaced sandal. She was laughing even before my long fingers made contact with the soft skin of her foot, and she quickly collapsed into a laughing fit to rival my own. We must have made quite a sight, two teens draped over each other at every angle, giggling helplessly
and tickling mercilessly, right there on the lawn of our union building.
Finally, after what must have been at least 15 minutes, she pulled her foot out of my by-then rather weak grip and giggled out "truce?" Too exhausted to even say yes, I simply nodded and slumped down as she withdrew her fingers. She even took it upon herself to replace my sandal on my foot, although it seemed she had an ulterior motive in doing so, judging from the quick tickles she snuck in while she did so. We lay there giggling at each other for a moment more, recovering, before finally struggling to our feet and completing our walk. We hugged goodbye, promised each other a dance at the party that night, and went our seperate ways. Both of us were looking forward to that night a good deal more than we had been...
To Be Continued....
"Flirtation"
First Person, F/M, M/F
May 30th, 2001 Somwhere in PA
I stared eagerly at the clock moving all too slowly around it's sweep. Just one more minute of History 007, and I was free for the weekend...a weekend already planned full of partying, drinking, flirting, and just chilling with my friends. I could hardly wait....
I jumped to my feet the instant the second hand touched the twelve, heading off the wave of students that was already forming in the aisles out of the lecture hall. I zeroed in on Holly Kamarinski, having purposely parked next to her car that morning. She and I were pretty good friends, and she was a lot of fun to hang out with. She was also a pretty attractive girl, standing just about 5'4 with dark, wavy hair and deep brown eyes. Her body was trim and toned, and her feet were rather small, cute, and tanned nicely along the top - something I found irresistable, especially when coupled with the adorable little anklet she always wore. She had early in our friendship noticed my flickering glances downward, and never failed to wear slides or sandals that showed off her feet while we were hanging out. I, of course, returned the favour, for I too had noticed the downward glances she gave me - my own peds were rather smallish, slender, tanned lightly and well taken care of. I never lost the opportunity to wear my own set of sandals while in her company. All in all, it was a pretty good unspoken agreement - I wasn't sure if she thought it would be wierd to discuss something like that; maybe she thought I liked her choice of shoes or her anklet, for all I knew.
I successfully wended my way through the crowd towards her small form, and we walked down to our cars together just as we did every Mon, Wed, and Friday. I invited her to the fraternity party that night, and she cheerfully accepted. We even exchanged a bit of lighthearted flirting - nothing serious, as we were both still pretty shy with the opposite sex, but just enough to tease.
Suddenly, as we were walking, she tripped and stumbled forward. I reached out to catch her, steadying her, and then saw what had happened - she had slipped out of her sandal and tripped on it. She was standing on her one shod foot now, her small barefoot dangling in the air as she struggled to catch her balance the rest of the way. Being the gentleman I am, I bent down to retrieve her lost shoe. Looking at it, it didn't seem to be the type one could just slip out of...she must have done it on purpose then, to gauge my reaction - which, predictably enough, had been to practically stare at her suddenly bared but unbearably cute little foot for as long as I thought safe. I hated being caught. The Irish pride rose in me and called out for what vengeance I could extract - and another part of myself latched onto a way to satisfy my pride while also keeping that adorable little lower extremity exposed for further viewing.
"Bet you want this back, don't you?" I taunted. "Well, I could make you run for it -" and pretended to throw it - "or I could just hang on to it for a bit." She laughed and made a swipe for it, which I countered by holding it high above my head. Now, I'm 5'9, with long limbs befitting a runner. There wasn't a chance she was making that grab, especially on just one leg.
"You give me that back right now, or else!" she demanded, making futile swipes at the sandal.
"Or else what?" I asked, confident that I was in control of this situation.
"Or else THIS" she cried, jumping at me and knocking me backwards onto the grass. I staggered briefly but didn't go down...until her small hands found their way up my shirt and onto my bare stomach, where they promptly went about wreaking ticklish havoc. Holly kept her nails trimmed nicely, not too long and not too short, and she was remarkably adept with them. It didn't help that I was perhaps one of the most ticklish people ever to walk the planet. I'd had quite a rep in High School for being ticklish, but so far it hadn't followed me to college - and I had wanted to keep it that way. The best laid plans...
We went down in a giggling bundle, with me squirming to knock away both her hands with just one of mine, and my other hand trying to keep her sandal as far from her grasp as I could. She quickly snaked one of her hands past my futile defenses, as I grew weaker and weaker from the tickling my poor tummy was recieving, and it shot up towards my upraised armpit. The instant her nails made contact with that sensitive flesh, my arm retracted like it was on springs, firing down and trapping her hand between my arm and my underarm. She took full advantage of that position, wriggling her fingers in the confines I had created. I dissolved into helpless laughter, curling into a fetal position and giving up and pretense of control. She nabbed her shoe from unresisting hands, took her one hand off my stomach - while keeping up the pressure under my arm, leaving me trapped in giggling defenselessness - long enough to slip it back on her foot.
Dealing with the sandal evidently gave her an idea, for right when I expected her hand to start working over my tummy again, I instead felt that usually refreshing breath of fresh air the one feels when one first removes a sandal or shoe. Not refreshing this time - terrifying is more the word. I couldn't do anything to stop her, I knew, which only made it that much more dreadful when I first felt those manicured nails begin their weakness inducing dance on my sensitive arches. My laughter doubled in pitch briefly before reaching the point where it wasn't even audible anymore. My whole body was shaking, and in desperation I flailed about with my hands, trying to latch hold of at least one of her own hands, when suddenly - jackpot! I hadn't caught her hand, but I had found one of her own now-shod feet. I rolled over as though it were simply a reflexive defense, then shot out one hand around her petite ankle, while my other hand quickly worked to pull off the only recently replaced sandal. She was laughing even before my long fingers made contact with the soft skin of her foot, and she quickly collapsed into a laughing fit to rival my own. We must have made quite a sight, two teens draped over each other at every angle, giggling helplessly
and tickling mercilessly, right there on the lawn of our union building.
Finally, after what must have been at least 15 minutes, she pulled her foot out of my by-then rather weak grip and giggled out "truce?" Too exhausted to even say yes, I simply nodded and slumped down as she withdrew her fingers. She even took it upon herself to replace my sandal on my foot, although it seemed she had an ulterior motive in doing so, judging from the quick tickles she snuck in while she did so. We lay there giggling at each other for a moment more, recovering, before finally struggling to our feet and completing our walk. We hugged goodbye, promised each other a dance at the party that night, and went our seperate ways. Both of us were looking forward to that night a good deal more than we had been...
To Be Continued....
