Rasputin
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2002
- Messages
- 575
- Points
- 18
(The following names have been ALTERED to conceal the identities of the ticklee and author)
Kirsten was a once-in-a-lifetime find. A couple years ago, back in my glorious Whoring Days, I met her at a local watering hole. This particular one was located next to an area Junior College. So it obviously attracted a lot of students. It also attracted a lot of frustrated sales reps. That how I met Kirsten.
I had been parked at the bar for a few hours mentally replaying the days futile work. After a handful of shots, and about a gallon of beer, I looked up from my dismay. I saw that there was a cute skinny girl and a skanky-looking, full-figured girl a few barstools down. I was sober enough to realize I was being checked out by the thinner of the duo. That's when I decided there was one sale I would close that day. I struck up a conversation with them by using the "Join in with the bartender" technique. This is where you hear something the bartender says to the person you want to initiate conversation with. You then jump in and reply to the bartender, and follow up with eye contact with the person you want to talk to. It sounds awkward when typed-you have to see it in action.
Through this method I started talking to Kirsten. Kirsten was studying at the local JC to become a certified surgical tech. She had been working in a local hospital for a while, and wanted to back her experience with academia. She really lloked great in a pair of scrubs. As we all know alcohol is the social lubricant. Kirsten and I were WD-40 on teflon that night! Kirsten was 5'7" and maybe 110 lbs with her keys in her pocket. She had a great posterior, but was not blessed in the breast department. What she lacked in mammories she compensated with nerves.
Somehow, through my intoxication, I took ahold of the conversation and led it to my train of thought. In a "gettin'-to-know-you" effort I suggested "Let's ask each other whatever we want-no holds barred, and the other has to reply honestly." I'll give you three guesses what I asked, he typed sarcastically. When I popped the "Where are you most ticklish?" question, without a second's hestitation she relied "My feet, definitely". That was nice for me because I had a streak going of girls saying "My sides, my inner thighs, above my knees, etc". That wasn't cool because I'm a foot guy. It got to the point where I rephrased the question to "What are your three most ticklish spots?", in the hopes I may get a stray "My feet" answer. Well no beating around the bush with Kirsten, which led to the exchange of numbers, and subsequent dates.
My favorite story with Kirsten involves the time she showed up at my apartment with a case of beer and full intentions of taking our relationship to a more penatrative state. She knew of my tweak because of previous attempts of shoe/sock removal and offers of foot massages. She even was a bit apprehensive about it at first, and it was almost a deal-breaker between us. I wasn't used to that because most girls accepted it as part of the package. She later told me that her initial apprehension was linked to the intensely sensitive nature of her feet. I really can't remember a lot about what her feet looked like. They weren't great enough for me to remember miniscule details, but were nice enough that I don't remember them being bad. Some leave longer lasting impressions than others. One indeliable memory I have is how ticklish they were. A definite Top Fiver...possibly in the Top 3!
I knew I was in trouble that night when after about two beers, she decided to parade her naked feet in front of me. She ripped off her socks and proclaimed, "Look, I painted my toenails for you, and I haven't been in surgical socks all day." I tried to play it cool, as if she were giving me a foot fetish test. We eventuallly worked our way back to my bedroom. She was ready to go. Insert massage here. When we were half-undressed on the bed, I said "I want to give you a massage." She agreed, then realized what I was going to rub first.
"I knew you were going to rub my feet!!" she giggled as I moved towards the foot of the bed. Now you have to know these things first: This is the girl who would never get a professional pedicure because she claimed "It would kill her"; This is the girl who said she would have nightmares about her cousins holding her down and tickling her feet till she screamed; This is the girl who claimed "no matter how long a shift" she worked, a foot massage could not do "anything but tickle." So I was at the helm of these little babies.
I squirted the Bath and Body Works Vanilla Bean on my hand. After rubbing my hands together to warm the lotion, I started in with the lightest of touches. Her leg immediately jerked and she let out a muffled squeal. I can remeber taunting her by saying, "This can't possibly tickle." She was giggling and expelled "IT DOES!" I continued on with my slippery, gentle touch. She slammed her hand down on the bed and I could hear the sheets grinding as she clenched them in her fists. Then I would hear a short exhale, followed by a quicker, more audible inhale. My favorite was when I worked up in between her toes. She laughed out loud, just like in a tickling video, "Oh My God! Do you have to GO Between my TOES?!" I really had to laugh at that one. After finishing five minutes on one foot, I moved over to the other. Lotion, tickle, repeat! After all the same non-verbal communication upon the start of the new foot, she tried to tickle me. She rubbed my foot and said, "Doesn't this tickle you?". Not being ticklish, trying to tickle my feet is like trying to feed Star Jones with a Lean Cusine Meal-it's not gonna work! After futilely attempting to tickle me, Kirsten resolved herself to be strong-willed. The last comment she made that stands out in my mind is "I am concentrating on the lake...I am concentrating on the lake...." This was her little anti-tickle mantra in reference to my lakefront location. She repeated this aloud as layed squirming on my bed at the mercy of my deft hands. That was a great night.
Kirsten and I later went our separate ways. Although there a many things about that little relationship that I don't remember, I will never forget how ticklish she was.
"I had tickled her several times before, but this, by far, was the best."
Rasputin
Kirsten was a once-in-a-lifetime find. A couple years ago, back in my glorious Whoring Days, I met her at a local watering hole. This particular one was located next to an area Junior College. So it obviously attracted a lot of students. It also attracted a lot of frustrated sales reps. That how I met Kirsten.
I had been parked at the bar for a few hours mentally replaying the days futile work. After a handful of shots, and about a gallon of beer, I looked up from my dismay. I saw that there was a cute skinny girl and a skanky-looking, full-figured girl a few barstools down. I was sober enough to realize I was being checked out by the thinner of the duo. That's when I decided there was one sale I would close that day. I struck up a conversation with them by using the "Join in with the bartender" technique. This is where you hear something the bartender says to the person you want to initiate conversation with. You then jump in and reply to the bartender, and follow up with eye contact with the person you want to talk to. It sounds awkward when typed-you have to see it in action.
Through this method I started talking to Kirsten. Kirsten was studying at the local JC to become a certified surgical tech. She had been working in a local hospital for a while, and wanted to back her experience with academia. She really lloked great in a pair of scrubs. As we all know alcohol is the social lubricant. Kirsten and I were WD-40 on teflon that night! Kirsten was 5'7" and maybe 110 lbs with her keys in her pocket. She had a great posterior, but was not blessed in the breast department. What she lacked in mammories she compensated with nerves.
Somehow, through my intoxication, I took ahold of the conversation and led it to my train of thought. In a "gettin'-to-know-you" effort I suggested "Let's ask each other whatever we want-no holds barred, and the other has to reply honestly." I'll give you three guesses what I asked, he typed sarcastically. When I popped the "Where are you most ticklish?" question, without a second's hestitation she relied "My feet, definitely". That was nice for me because I had a streak going of girls saying "My sides, my inner thighs, above my knees, etc". That wasn't cool because I'm a foot guy. It got to the point where I rephrased the question to "What are your three most ticklish spots?", in the hopes I may get a stray "My feet" answer. Well no beating around the bush with Kirsten, which led to the exchange of numbers, and subsequent dates.
My favorite story with Kirsten involves the time she showed up at my apartment with a case of beer and full intentions of taking our relationship to a more penatrative state. She knew of my tweak because of previous attempts of shoe/sock removal and offers of foot massages. She even was a bit apprehensive about it at first, and it was almost a deal-breaker between us. I wasn't used to that because most girls accepted it as part of the package. She later told me that her initial apprehension was linked to the intensely sensitive nature of her feet. I really can't remember a lot about what her feet looked like. They weren't great enough for me to remember miniscule details, but were nice enough that I don't remember them being bad. Some leave longer lasting impressions than others. One indeliable memory I have is how ticklish they were. A definite Top Fiver...possibly in the Top 3!
I knew I was in trouble that night when after about two beers, she decided to parade her naked feet in front of me. She ripped off her socks and proclaimed, "Look, I painted my toenails for you, and I haven't been in surgical socks all day." I tried to play it cool, as if she were giving me a foot fetish test. We eventuallly worked our way back to my bedroom. She was ready to go. Insert massage here. When we were half-undressed on the bed, I said "I want to give you a massage." She agreed, then realized what I was going to rub first.
"I knew you were going to rub my feet!!" she giggled as I moved towards the foot of the bed. Now you have to know these things first: This is the girl who would never get a professional pedicure because she claimed "It would kill her"; This is the girl who said she would have nightmares about her cousins holding her down and tickling her feet till she screamed; This is the girl who claimed "no matter how long a shift" she worked, a foot massage could not do "anything but tickle." So I was at the helm of these little babies.
I squirted the Bath and Body Works Vanilla Bean on my hand. After rubbing my hands together to warm the lotion, I started in with the lightest of touches. Her leg immediately jerked and she let out a muffled squeal. I can remeber taunting her by saying, "This can't possibly tickle." She was giggling and expelled "IT DOES!" I continued on with my slippery, gentle touch. She slammed her hand down on the bed and I could hear the sheets grinding as she clenched them in her fists. Then I would hear a short exhale, followed by a quicker, more audible inhale. My favorite was when I worked up in between her toes. She laughed out loud, just like in a tickling video, "Oh My God! Do you have to GO Between my TOES?!" I really had to laugh at that one. After finishing five minutes on one foot, I moved over to the other. Lotion, tickle, repeat! After all the same non-verbal communication upon the start of the new foot, she tried to tickle me. She rubbed my foot and said, "Doesn't this tickle you?". Not being ticklish, trying to tickle my feet is like trying to feed Star Jones with a Lean Cusine Meal-it's not gonna work! After futilely attempting to tickle me, Kirsten resolved herself to be strong-willed. The last comment she made that stands out in my mind is "I am concentrating on the lake...I am concentrating on the lake...." This was her little anti-tickle mantra in reference to my lakefront location. She repeated this aloud as layed squirming on my bed at the mercy of my deft hands. That was a great night.
Kirsten and I later went our separate ways. Although there a many things about that little relationship that I don't remember, I will never forget how ticklish she was.
"I had tickled her several times before, but this, by far, was the best."
Rasputin
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