Iwon'tgrowup
TMF Master
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- Jun 18, 2005
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The Escorts -- Part 1 (True, M/FF, MF/F)
(I began to feel guilty about the years I have enjoyed the stories at the TMF, so I joined today to contribute a bit of my own experience. Perhaps I can give back a bit of the pleasure I've received from you unselfish sharers. My story is absolutely true.).
On an evening of 8 summers ago, two important events converged. I was home alone for the night, and the money I had been secretly saving was now enough.
My first four dials were unproductive. One woman hung up, one laughed and hung up, two others just seemed confused. I was discouraged.
But my fifth dial connected me with a raspy-yet-kind voice. You don't care so much about looks as you do ticklin' feet, honey? she asked. Ya sure? I got a Venuzuelan girl who'd melt your heart, and a beautiful redhead who's over six foot . . .
I'd love to meet them both I stopped her in mid-sentence. If their feet are authentically ticklish. And I asked her to do some investigating and call me back.
It took her almost an hour to get back, but Raspy-Yet-Kind almost yelled Found 'em! They're kinda nervous, but they oughta be in your driveway in about 30 minutes.
Taylor, 32, had chestnut hair and wore a simple navy dress, beige hosiery and inexpensive blue pumps. Stephanie made my pulse beat a little harder. Shoulder-length raven hair spilling onto the shoulders of her gray business suit. I quickly glanced at her legs. My breath became a little short. Black hose, nutty black shoes, open at the heel, with ties that wrapped around her ankles. She was 25.
They were friendly; friendlier still when they saw how much I was willing to pay them. I poured ice water for all three of us, and led Stephanie and Taylor downstairs to the rec room. (They said they weren't thirsty, but I thought they would be before we were finished).
Stephanie sat to my left on the loveseat we shared. Taylor was on the right, comfortably expectant in an armchair. They were positioned so that I could place either of their legs on my lap. Taylor was the spokeswoman, and asked what I planned to do. I said No nudity, no dancing. I don't care about those. All I want is to put your feet here in my lap and tickle them. Then, if you feel comfortable, we could move to this blanket on the floor.
No further questions were asked. You can start with me. And the lovely Taylor put her feet in my lap.
I removed her pumps (sevens) and began to tentatively explore her soles with my index finger. She didn't kick or pull away, but she twisted and scrunched her feet delightfully. She didn't laugh aloud, but she giggled and snorted. I was so transported I could hardly feel my hands.
Stephanie sat quietly. I thought she was a little pale, and asked if she was all right. She didn't answer, but slowly placed her feet on my lap as Taylor took hers away. I unlaced the crazy (yet ever so sexy) shoes. Taylor's feet had been cool to touch. Stephanie's were almost hot. Nerves. I moved my finger from the base of her big toe, across the ball of her foot to her heel. It wasn't a long trip. She wore a size 5. And it wasn't even a tickle, just a touch.
But, my fellow fetishists, the laughter was ambrosia. I gently worked the tip of my finger across her sole and she dissolved into hysteria. The world disappeared for me until Taylor (all but forgotten beside me) asked, a little shyly, can I help?
She moved her armchair in front of the still-giggling Stephanie (who wasn't even being tickled at the moment). We each had a Stephanie-foot (I the right, Taylor the left) and we tickled, not hard. Just lightly. One finger. And Stephanie shrieked laughter. Gales of beautiful, musical, unrestrained laughter until, about 2 minutes later, we let her rest.
Stephanie was the most ticklish woman I have ever met. I think of her almost with love as I write this. Both ladies were so gentle and kind that I still think of them often, and with much affection.
The best part remains, and I'd like to share it if you are open to reading it. Thank you for creating and sustaining this forum. I am so often alone in this little obsession that it's good to visit and remember I'm not.
(I began to feel guilty about the years I have enjoyed the stories at the TMF, so I joined today to contribute a bit of my own experience. Perhaps I can give back a bit of the pleasure I've received from you unselfish sharers. My story is absolutely true.).
The Escorts (Part 1, M/FF, MF/F)
On an evening of 8 summers ago, two important events converged. I was home alone for the night, and the money I had been secretly saving was now enough.
My first four dials were unproductive. One woman hung up, one laughed and hung up, two others just seemed confused. I was discouraged.
But my fifth dial connected me with a raspy-yet-kind voice. You don't care so much about looks as you do ticklin' feet, honey? she asked. Ya sure? I got a Venuzuelan girl who'd melt your heart, and a beautiful redhead who's over six foot . . .
I'd love to meet them both I stopped her in mid-sentence. If their feet are authentically ticklish. And I asked her to do some investigating and call me back.
It took her almost an hour to get back, but Raspy-Yet-Kind almost yelled Found 'em! They're kinda nervous, but they oughta be in your driveway in about 30 minutes.
Taylor, 32, had chestnut hair and wore a simple navy dress, beige hosiery and inexpensive blue pumps. Stephanie made my pulse beat a little harder. Shoulder-length raven hair spilling onto the shoulders of her gray business suit. I quickly glanced at her legs. My breath became a little short. Black hose, nutty black shoes, open at the heel, with ties that wrapped around her ankles. She was 25.
They were friendly; friendlier still when they saw how much I was willing to pay them. I poured ice water for all three of us, and led Stephanie and Taylor downstairs to the rec room. (They said they weren't thirsty, but I thought they would be before we were finished).
Stephanie sat to my left on the loveseat we shared. Taylor was on the right, comfortably expectant in an armchair. They were positioned so that I could place either of their legs on my lap. Taylor was the spokeswoman, and asked what I planned to do. I said No nudity, no dancing. I don't care about those. All I want is to put your feet here in my lap and tickle them. Then, if you feel comfortable, we could move to this blanket on the floor.
No further questions were asked. You can start with me. And the lovely Taylor put her feet in my lap.
I removed her pumps (sevens) and began to tentatively explore her soles with my index finger. She didn't kick or pull away, but she twisted and scrunched her feet delightfully. She didn't laugh aloud, but she giggled and snorted. I was so transported I could hardly feel my hands.
Stephanie sat quietly. I thought she was a little pale, and asked if she was all right. She didn't answer, but slowly placed her feet on my lap as Taylor took hers away. I unlaced the crazy (yet ever so sexy) shoes. Taylor's feet had been cool to touch. Stephanie's were almost hot. Nerves. I moved my finger from the base of her big toe, across the ball of her foot to her heel. It wasn't a long trip. She wore a size 5. And it wasn't even a tickle, just a touch.
But, my fellow fetishists, the laughter was ambrosia. I gently worked the tip of my finger across her sole and she dissolved into hysteria. The world disappeared for me until Taylor (all but forgotten beside me) asked, a little shyly, can I help?
She moved her armchair in front of the still-giggling Stephanie (who wasn't even being tickled at the moment). We each had a Stephanie-foot (I the right, Taylor the left) and we tickled, not hard. Just lightly. One finger. And Stephanie shrieked laughter. Gales of beautiful, musical, unrestrained laughter until, about 2 minutes later, we let her rest.
Stephanie was the most ticklish woman I have ever met. I think of her almost with love as I write this. Both ladies were so gentle and kind that I still think of them often, and with much affection.
The best part remains, and I'd like to share it if you are open to reading it. Thank you for creating and sustaining this forum. I am so often alone in this little obsession that it's good to visit and remember I'm not.
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