Boomtown13
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- Joined
- Jul 24, 2001
- Messages
- 209
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Let me give back to the community by relating one of my favorite early tickle encounters.
Six or seven years ago, before the internet and BEFORE I embraced the reality that my most favorite pleasure in this life is to tickle a very ticklish woman, mercilessly, I was at a casual, intimate dinner party with friends from college. We had just graduated in the past year or two and we were beginning our post-school lives. My roommate and myself were eating over at a newlywed couple's apartment. We were all writer friends, and very fond of weekly get-togethers to drink wine and discuss things -- current events, city planning, local issues, you know -- fresh-out-of-college stuff.
After dinner on this particular night we did just that, bringing the wine bottles into the living room and lounging. And conversing. So Jennifer's sitting on the couch lengthwise, and I'm on the floor in front of the couch. The other guys are in front of me. I was having a difficult time focussing and participating in the guys' discussion because I was all too aware of Jennifer's bare feet resting not a foot-and-a-half away from me. I let the wine help me grow obsessed with them until I overtly noticed them, turned to her, and said in my best non-chalant way, "Oh, can I tickle your feet here?" Her eyes sparkled immediately when she noticed my hand was moving to her soles even as I asked the question. She quickly retorted, trying to get the words out before my fingers made contact, "Only if you want to give me an orgasm!"
I experienced a moment of tickler's euphoria. I didn't believe my ears. My fingers were already dragging and digging around her soles when she exclaimed the word "orgasm." I turned my head towards her feet, because I knew my face must have gotten all red in a hurry. Jennifer is Irish and she keeps her milky white feet soft and pretty. As I tormented the bottoms of each foot with varying pressures of tickling all over, including under each toe, she likewise
giggled and laughed at different intensities, depending on where I was on her feet. My fingers wouldn't stop, and she was wiggling her feet and laughing so happily that I could tell she didn't want me to stop.
"Oh really?" I replied to her orgasm statement in the most teasing way I could.
"I just LOVE having my feet tickled, I never want it to stop," she told me through giggles. I tell you, I felt like the world had transformed into paradise. Although I can think of plenty of smooth lines NOW that could have elongated the conversation and spiced up the tickling with teasing, my mind was blown at the time. I had been caught quite off-guard with her open love of being tickled. Back then, I had only met one other girl like that, and that was years before. Jennifer was expressing that she loved it with a passion. And so bluntly and openly. Amidst a conversation about politics, no less. It was, like, you know, intoxicating, dude. And I just had no verbal reply to what she was saying. My brain went into my fingers, and I just tickled those feet as artfully and effectively as I could. After a short verbal pause, in which there was only tickling and laughing, she asked the room "Why do I like this SO MUCH?" as her feet wiggled reactively, while at the same time never moving away from
my fingers. She made eye contact with her husband, then said to me, "Ooh, tonight I'm gonna get a great foot massage!" teasing him. "Yeah, right," he teased back at her, "I'm going to sleep." All the while, I was still tickling her and she was still laughing, and now my fingers were moving up her arches and over the tops of her feet too. Around the sides, the heel, you know the drill.
Inevitably, it had to end of course. I stopped, her laughter ebbed, and the conversation moved onwards. In future weeks, I enjoyed other foot-tickling times with her. Once at the movies, but usually at dinner parties. They were hella fun times, but I'll never forget nor stop being most fond that first occaision. We had a great friendship, but I ultimately lost touch with those guys, unfortunately. It never threatened their marriage, we were all
great friends, and Jennifer and I never took the tickling to that next step. Oh, we dipped in and enjoyed the fetish together, no question about it, but we amicably kept ourselves to the platonic end of the pool.
There. That's from the three dozen tickling archives in my memory banks. More later. In the meantime, THANK YOU, all you kind and benevolent folk who take the time to keep this forum full
of interesting and stimulating ticklestuff!
Your brother,
Boomkaboom
Six or seven years ago, before the internet and BEFORE I embraced the reality that my most favorite pleasure in this life is to tickle a very ticklish woman, mercilessly, I was at a casual, intimate dinner party with friends from college. We had just graduated in the past year or two and we were beginning our post-school lives. My roommate and myself were eating over at a newlywed couple's apartment. We were all writer friends, and very fond of weekly get-togethers to drink wine and discuss things -- current events, city planning, local issues, you know -- fresh-out-of-college stuff.
After dinner on this particular night we did just that, bringing the wine bottles into the living room and lounging. And conversing. So Jennifer's sitting on the couch lengthwise, and I'm on the floor in front of the couch. The other guys are in front of me. I was having a difficult time focussing and participating in the guys' discussion because I was all too aware of Jennifer's bare feet resting not a foot-and-a-half away from me. I let the wine help me grow obsessed with them until I overtly noticed them, turned to her, and said in my best non-chalant way, "Oh, can I tickle your feet here?" Her eyes sparkled immediately when she noticed my hand was moving to her soles even as I asked the question. She quickly retorted, trying to get the words out before my fingers made contact, "Only if you want to give me an orgasm!"
I experienced a moment of tickler's euphoria. I didn't believe my ears. My fingers were already dragging and digging around her soles when she exclaimed the word "orgasm." I turned my head towards her feet, because I knew my face must have gotten all red in a hurry. Jennifer is Irish and she keeps her milky white feet soft and pretty. As I tormented the bottoms of each foot with varying pressures of tickling all over, including under each toe, she likewise
giggled and laughed at different intensities, depending on where I was on her feet. My fingers wouldn't stop, and she was wiggling her feet and laughing so happily that I could tell she didn't want me to stop.
"Oh really?" I replied to her orgasm statement in the most teasing way I could.
"I just LOVE having my feet tickled, I never want it to stop," she told me through giggles. I tell you, I felt like the world had transformed into paradise. Although I can think of plenty of smooth lines NOW that could have elongated the conversation and spiced up the tickling with teasing, my mind was blown at the time. I had been caught quite off-guard with her open love of being tickled. Back then, I had only met one other girl like that, and that was years before. Jennifer was expressing that she loved it with a passion. And so bluntly and openly. Amidst a conversation about politics, no less. It was, like, you know, intoxicating, dude. And I just had no verbal reply to what she was saying. My brain went into my fingers, and I just tickled those feet as artfully and effectively as I could. After a short verbal pause, in which there was only tickling and laughing, she asked the room "Why do I like this SO MUCH?" as her feet wiggled reactively, while at the same time never moving away from
my fingers. She made eye contact with her husband, then said to me, "Ooh, tonight I'm gonna get a great foot massage!" teasing him. "Yeah, right," he teased back at her, "I'm going to sleep." All the while, I was still tickling her and she was still laughing, and now my fingers were moving up her arches and over the tops of her feet too. Around the sides, the heel, you know the drill.
Inevitably, it had to end of course. I stopped, her laughter ebbed, and the conversation moved onwards. In future weeks, I enjoyed other foot-tickling times with her. Once at the movies, but usually at dinner parties. They were hella fun times, but I'll never forget nor stop being most fond that first occaision. We had a great friendship, but I ultimately lost touch with those guys, unfortunately. It never threatened their marriage, we were all
great friends, and Jennifer and I never took the tickling to that next step. Oh, we dipped in and enjoyed the fetish together, no question about it, but we amicably kept ourselves to the platonic end of the pool.
There. That's from the three dozen tickling archives in my memory banks. More later. In the meantime, THANK YOU, all you kind and benevolent folk who take the time to keep this forum full
of interesting and stimulating ticklestuff!
Your brother,
Boomkaboom
