The Escorts -- Part 3 (True, M/FF, F/F, FF/M, some adult content)

This is not the foot of a soccer player I said.

Stephanie tried to stall me. I pumice she said. I have a regular client who loves my feet. He gives me a new pair of shoes every time.

The blood drummed in my head so loudly I could barely hear her. No I said not a soccer foot at all. No callouses (I touched the ball of her foot), no rough spots of any kind . She couldn't hear me. The lightest touch beneath her toes brought high-pitched, indescribable mirth.

My silk tie collection was rougher than the bottoms of Stephanie's wondrous feet. Making her laugh took no work at all. I just glided my fingertip up and down her sole. Her head whipped back and forth, her stomach shook uncontrollably, but she made no effort to move her foot. Her ankle rotated . . . a little. Her toes twitched . . . a little. But mostly, this most memorable of women just lay on the blanket and laughed.

After 90 seconds in heaven, I stopped, trembling so hard I dropped face down on the blanket. My elbows couldn't support me.

Oh my God Stephanie said again, faintly.

Well , Taylor said, rising to her knees. I didn't know you were so ticklish. God, are you ticklish! And I think I should have some of the fun! With that, Taylor straddled her winded friend and tickled Stephanie under the arms. Her shimmering blouse was sleeveless, her underarms defenseless. Stephanie's laughter again reached the level of screams as Taylor's fingers crawled down her friend's ribs and across her sides.

I, meanwhile, collapsed into the armchair and watched. I was concerned for Stephanie, who was too weak from laughing to push or kick her colleague away. But voyeurism had kicked in, and all I could do was watch Taylor torture her fellow escort. My mouth felt like a cotton towel. I wanted to unleash, to throw my jeans against the wall.

But I appeared calm. Too calm. Taylor noticed my new and quiet place in the chair. Stephanie's eyes squeezed shut. She pulled in air, arms drawn tightly against her sides. But Taylor watched me carefully as she dismounted Stephanie and sat, cross-legged, on the blanket.

For a minute, there were only three sounds in the room. The aquarium bubbled in the corner . . . Stephanie wheezed on the floor . . . and the wall clock ticked, the pendulum swinging, each tick louder as Taylor continued to stare at me.

You know what I think Taylor said, at last. I think there's still one person in this room who hasn't been tickled. She looked straight into my eyes as she spoke, edging toward me on her bottom. Wrapping her arm around my calf, she said to Stephanie Does this interest you? Taylor quickly pulled off my deck shoe, exposing my sockless right foot. There was no warm-up, no teasing, no gentle foreplay. She tickled my sole with no hesitation and no mercy.

I was paralyzed with laughter. Like Stephanie, all I could do was sit still and howl. Through my laughter, I could hear Taylor repeating tickle tickle tickle. Tickle tickle tickle. The agony and ecstasy of Taylor's tickling prevented me from realizing that Stephanie was firmly cradling my other leg and pulling off my shoe. The beautiful escorts began to chant in unison tickle tickle tickle. Tickle tickle tickle.

I was terrified and enthralled and have wished for those two minutes back ever since.

Oh, my Taylor said, your manhood. However can we help you?

I was still wiping the tears from my cheeks as I pulled myself upright in the armchair. Taylor I said, lie down on the blanket.

(Only one more installment. I promise. Thanks for reading.)

Very well written! Terrific stuff.

I can't wait to read the final part.

You need to write more often!