makemlaugh2003
TMF Master
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Complimentary Tickles (m/f and f/f, mostly feet)
The thud of my tossed suitcase landing on the bed matched the tone of my sigh as I entered the hotel room. Tired from the mere thought of the unfinished paperwork awaiting me inside, I let my mind fill up with all the reasons why I needed a good, long vacation. I can’t STAND paperwork…preliminary sales forecasts due Monday, and we don’t even open the damned STORE til Friday! Ugggggh, what a hassle…
Work takes a lot out of a man, that’s for sure. You stay so busy, you feel like you’re married to your career, or at least that it’s whoring you out. Hard to find time for other “things” that you might enjoy…you know, not sleazy things or creepy things, just…things. Things you’d never want your colleagues to know about you. Things you sure as Hell couldn’t explain to Mom and Dad. Things you sometimes feel like only you think are fun, that no one els…
What was that?
Casting my eyes ceiling-ward to trace the source of the noise, I heard a regular pattern of light thumping, each thump accented by loud, girlish giggles and playful shrieks. “NO!” I heard just through the vent next to the overhead light, “Please, DON’T!” At that point I heard two thuds similar to the one my jampacked suitcase had made on my bed, followed by some of the most helpless, beautiful laughter I had ever heard.
All the same, self-pity briefly enveloped me, and I frowned. Crazy newlyweds! Likely too young to know what it's like to thanklessly work your ass off, to not have time for play. Wish they’d just get to the “main event,” it’d probably be quieter. Oh well, might as well stop pissing and moaning and get to this paperwork…
With all the enthusiasm and glee of a garbage man working the inner city route, I clicked open my suitcase, took out one of what seemed like an endless pile of stuffed manila folders, this one marked “Industry Trends, last quarter,” placed it on the desk and sat down, dreading the impending task of rifling through lines and lines of hypothetical numbers. I mulled over the first page absent-mindedly when I became startled by two events: I heard a much closer chorus of giggles and shrieks than I had heard from upstairs, followed by the top page of my stack blowing clear off the desk. I turned around, further shocked to see my door fly open and a squealing young woman occupying the doorway, slamming my door, locking it and exhaling loudly.
Rather overzealous room service they have in this place. Not feeling anywhere as much threatened as intrigued, I let my face take on a wry smirk as the young woman, taking a full five seconds to catch her breath, turned around and, upon seeing me sitting there quizzically observing her, yelped in surprise. “Omigod!” she said, her youthful, excited voice making one word of the three, “What are you doing in my room?” Her face showed a bit of shock, yet beneath her wide, brown eyes a wide smile of incredulity shone sweetly, some leftover cute giggling spilling forth from between her teeth.
“I might ask you the same question, Miss,” I replied, chuckling in spite of myself. “You seem like you’re having WAY too much fun, and yet you seem anxious to hide somewhere. Did the Hare Krishnas follow you from the airport?”
Though she giggled, I could tell she didn’t seem to get the joke, more like she just had so many pent up giggles inside her she would have laughed at the MacNeil-Lehrer report. “Omigod, I am SOOOO sorry to have barged into your room! This is so embarrassing! I just was spazzing out running down the hall hoping Jackie didn’t catch me!” she concluded with more giggles, the sound of which was beginning to stir inside me in ways that caught even me off guard.
“Jackie?” I asked, and that point I looked this young woman over generously. (I was leering a bit, sure, but this WAS my room, after all) She stood maybe about 5’3”, was very trim and petite, had shoulder-length, wavy auburn hair with a white hair clip running across her head like a mock tiara, not to mention the aforementioned wide, expressive brown eyes and pretty smile, nicely accentuated with subtle freckles in between. She wore only a white nightshirt that read “It IS all about me” that swept down nearly to her knees and a small pair of backless black fuzzy slippers with pink hearts where the laces on a pair of shoes would be. I imagined she was roughly 19, maybe 20, and at this point most certainly needed to know why she was in my room. “So you and Jackie must’ve been the ones making so much noise above me a while back…” I said with no trace of irritation or scolding in my voice.
She was nonetheless embarrassed, and she looked down and shuffled her slippered feet. “I…I’m sorry, sir,” she stammered. “I really feel like a total dork. It’s just that, well…” a slight pink blush swept over her cheeks as she continued, “Well, Jackie was trying to tickle me and I had to escape. I honestly thought I was running into my own room. I’ll bet I’m in the one next to you,” she finished with her voice regaining some of its youthful lilt and beauty.
“So Jackie’s got a bit of a tickling fetish, eh?” I said, chuckling in spite of myself.
She giggled more in response, and I noticed a warm, tingly twinge in my loins each time I heard her sweet, musical laughter. I was really hoping it wasn’t obvious to her, and I crossed my legs casually to further conceal the fact. “Oh, Jackie’s RELENTLESS! It’s like I’m some little tickle toy or something some days” she said with adorable little yips and giggles punctuating her words, “I think it’s, like, a C. J. Madison thing or something.”
I could only assume that the Madison reference was about some high school Jackie must have attended that rivaled the one this young lady had gone to, but it didn’t matter. I was transfixed by her simple, graceful beauty and her high-pitched giggly voice. So transfixed was I, in fact, my brain began to whirl with the types of thoughts that would make my preacher want to smack my hand with an old wooden yardstick. I’ve got to keep this woman here somehow, and THEN somehow see if I can sneak in a sly tickle or two….but HOW? Hmmmmm….
My smile nearly pushed my cheekbones up against my temples. I’ve got it!
“You know,” I began, failing to clear my throat enough to prevent my voice from sounding thick with anticipation, “Jackie’s likely to find you any moment, and then there’s no telling how much trouble you’ll be in. In interest of saving you from a good sound tickling, I think I’d better hide you.” The exhale that I ended my words with felt and sounded like the air going out of an inflatable mattress.
Her reaction was the stuff of dreams I’ve often had while doing research on my laptop: her eyes widened even more, her smile became open-mouthed and, I must admit, downright sexy, and she nearly jumped off the carpet with apparent glee. “You will? Really? Oh, Mister, THANK you! I owe you big time! Should I get in the closet, you think?”
I noticeably shivered at her words and quickly regained at least some composure. “Er, well, no…um, I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Angela,” she answered with the same lilt in her voice that I had already become enamored with. “Nice to meet you, um…er….”
“Jay,” I told her through an obvious lump in my throat. “And anyhow, the closet is the first place Jackie will look. It might be better if you got up under the desk here. Since I’m sitting here doing work, your teeny body will be well-hidden in case Jackie comes in here looking for you.”
However slight my concerns may have been that I had gone too far and seemed too obvious with that last request, they were removed in a hurry. “That’s a great idea, Jay!” she giggled some more and got down on all fours, crawling past my chair and underneath my desk. This is too good to be true! Just relax, though, take deep breaths, and, for God’s sake, DON’T BLOW IT! “Here, let me make sure you don’t hit your head, Angela,” I prefaced as an excuse to guide her under my desk with my fingertips gently placed on her sides, at which point I took the liberty to let my excited fingers wriggle slightly, nearly undetectably along her ribs.
Her giggles reached greater intensity and pitch and she said “S-sorry!” as she crawled under the desk, far enough underneath where I could look directly down and see that only the toes of her slippers were touching the floor, meaning her tiny bare soles were separated from the bottoms of her slippers by a good six inches or so. Even though her arches were stretched tighter by her being on her toes, the bottoms of Angela’s feet still showed some wrinkles, and I shuddered with joy and knew I had to act quickly. Reaching down gingerly, I placed the palms of my hands gently on Angela’s exposed bare soles under the guise of trying to push her further under the desk. Her astonished yelp was sweet fuel for my burning passion, and she nearly jumped off the carpet in spite of her being on her knees. “Aahh! T-that tickles!”
The mere words sent me into nearly dizzying feelings of tickle lust, and I had to gulp very audibly to not let my exhilarated voice reach soprano levels. “Sorry, Angela…just trying to get you better hidden, hon,” I managed to reply, in the meantime removing my hands from her bare soles by gliding them slowly, delicately up along her arches and across her heels with exaggerated, slow grazes of my fingertips.
“Heh heh heh heh heh!” she giggled freely, and my heart nearly jumped into my esophagus. That Jackie is a lucky guy. ‘Little tickle toy,’ indeed. He must have a ball with those tiny little sensitive bare feet of hers. And me? I spend so much time trying to move up a tax bracket that delicious little tickle morsels like Angela get spoken for. Ugh! At the ripe old age of 25, I’m already a washed-up would-be tickle monst…
The knock at the door made me jerk in my chair, and I heard Angela whisper, “Oh no…it’s Jackie!” as I whipped my head around and stammered, “Uh….come in!”
The door opened with a quick thrust, and in my doorway now was…who? Yet ANOTHER pretty young co-ed stood there smiling politely at me, this one with long, sandy-blonde hair, piercing hazel eyes, a rather buxom figure and wearing nothing but a plaid blue bathrobe. “Excuse me, sir, my name’s Jackie and I’m hoping you can find a friend of mine. I’m not sure where she went…”
My eyes widened and my eyebrows raised noticeably, and a slight peep of interest exhaled from my smiling lips. So Jackie’s NOT a guy! Well WELL…perhaps this night is ready to get more interesting. “Uh, a friend, you say, Jackie? Well, I’m not sure,” I said with a voice that contained enough teasing to sound suspicious on purpose. I decided to further add to my fun by subtlely tracing an index fingernail along Angela’s bare left heel and instep, and even as I finished with, “What does she look like?” I could still hear Angela’s muffled, whispery giggles and saw her right foot brush across the left one from up out of the slipper as she muttered, “Hee hee hee! D-don’t!”
“Yeah, and I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but she’s about yeah high,” she explained by putting her hand up at about mid-nose level, “has brown hair and eyes, and would probably have been running down the hallway, giggling and pleading for her life,” Jackie said with a wry smile. “Notice anything like that here lately?”
I don’t know what I did to deserve this, or even who I’m supposed to thank, but THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. Nearly hyperventilating, I began to feel intensely dizzy, much in the way you do when a roller coaster is near the very top of a steep upcoming drop. “Uh, well, no, not really,” I offered, not technically lying, after all, and in the meantime I reached down and firmly latched onto Angela’s right ankle, to which she squeaked and murmured “Oh, God, no…” and as my anxious, swirling fingertips teased her bare heel, the ball of her foot and especially her silky soft, wrinkled arch, Angela’s toes began wiggling frantically in a futile effort to keep her laughter muffled, but ultimately a hearty “HA HA HA!” fell from her lips, and Jackie looked down with a bemused expression.
“Haven’t seen her, eh? Then I wonder who THIS could be,” she remarked while sauntering past me, reaching down and tugging on Angela’s right leg by the ankle. Angela squealed and offered no real resistance to Jackie pulling her out from under the desk, and as Jackie stared down at her with mock disapproval, Angela’s face broke into a nervous, giggly smile and she stammered, “H-hi, Jackie! W-w-what brings you here?”
It was easy to see that Jackie was a far more aggressive, assertive, dominant sort, while Angela seemed ideally submissive, fearful and yet oddly compliant. My level of intrigue made it impossible for me to hide my external show of pleasure any longer. This is REALLY hot! Even if I don’t get to join in, watching Jackie tickle Angela into a giggly little puddle of mush would be TOO much fun! They sure can use my bed if they want…
Jackie’s face took on one of confident, self-assured control, and she walked slowly toward Angela as she scrambled to her feet, her right slipper barely back on. “Oh, you KNOW what brings me here, Angie…SOMEONE promised to tip the bellhop on our way in, and SOMEONE had a lame excuse about spending all her change in the pop machine…I’m afraid you’ll have to be punished for that, sweetie…”
“Aaaaaahhh! N-no! I-I’m sorry, Jackie!” Angela blubbered with trepidation and giggles accenting her desperate voice. She backed up a little too close to my bed, the footboard catching just underneath her tush and causing her to tumble backward in what looked like an accident but may very well not have completely been. “P-PLEASE don’t do what I THINK you’re gonna do…”
“Sorry, Tee-Tee, but you leave me no choice,” Jackie’s voice sang, her eye winking devilishly, and she piled on top of Angela with cat-like quickness, straddling atop her waist and probing her sides with thorough, practiced strokes and drumming of her fingertips. “Tickle tickle TICKLE,” she teased Angela in a baby-talk voice.
Have you ever been so enthralled by something you were watching that you just couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but just sit there and enjoy the show, glad that you could attend? That was me. Jackie was an obvious expert tickler, that was clear from the start, and Angela barely resisted, merely swatting weakly with her hands and rolling her adorably cackling head back and forth, her eyes shut tight, her mouth fixed in a howling smile. “AH HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! No no no! PLEASE!! Heh heh heh heh hahahahaha!Pleasedon’ttickleme AAAAAHHH HAHAHAHAHAHA! S-sto-o-o-o-o-oppp!!”
“Aw, is poor widdle Angewa all TICKWISH? Aw, poor iddle baby!” Jackie teased, her fingertips playing Angela’s upper body like a finely-tuned instrument, wriggling and fluttering up along her sides and all the way up to her armpits, poking and grazing there playfully, then trailing back down Angela’s sides, squeezing her ribs teasingly, and then drumming and swirling across her belly, heaving with fits of laughter, with both hands. “Kootchy kootchy KOO, Angie! I’ll bet NEXT time you have some change with you…”
Since nobody was looking at me, and this WAS my room and my private show, evidently, I felt that less-than-subtlely rubbing between my legs with an open hand was not only appropriate, but a damned good idea besides. Angela thrashed on the bed and wiggled adorably up underneath Jackie’s tush, her constant stream of hysterical laughter and spastic pleading playing like sweet, gorgeous music. “EEEEEEKKK!!! I will I will I WILL…heeheeheeheehee! I p-pro-o-o-o-o-missssssse! AH hahahahahahaha! Heh heh heh heh ooo hoohoohoohoo! PLEE-EEE-EEEASE stop, Jackie! Heeheeheeheehee! PRETTY please?! Heh heh heh! I-it TICKLES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Jackie was obviously every bit as intent on teasing poor, defenseless Angela as tickling her into hysteria. And just as I was ready to vow life-long faithful homage to the tickling gods for allowing me to watch such a glorious event, my tickle slots turned up three cherries. “And you even bothered this poor man with your nonsense, Angie! I do believe HE needs to teach you a lesson , too!” She turned to me with a knowing wink, all while continuing to tease Angela’s petite, hyper-sensitive upper body, causing her to giggle and squeal and plead with great intensity. “Hey, Sir, no offense here, but you helped Angela here by trying to hide her from me….how’s about you help ME now? After all, fair’s fair…”
If Angela’s eyes had gotten any wider, they would’ve done one of those popping-out-of-the-socket cartoon things, likely catapulting her contacts across the room if she wore any. “OMIGOD!! NonononoNO!! Please, Jay, P-PLEASE don’t! PLEEEEEEEEEASE???” she begged pitifully with a classic puppy-dog-eyed stare and her voice adorably quivery and whimpering.
There are probably at least a dozen very sound ethical reasons why I shouldn’t get involved here…and I’ll be damned if I’m listening to any of them. Copying Jackie’s wink, I got up from the chair and slowly ambled over to the bed, eager to participate in the hottest, most lovely tickling scene I had ever witnessed live. “You corral her knees, Jackie, and I’ll hold her ankles good and proper,” I announced, clearly talking to Jackie but just as obviously staring directly at Angela with a mischievous gleam in my eyes.
“OH NO! NO!!! N-n-not my FEET! OMIGOD NO NO NO!!! ANYTHING but that!!!” Angela shrieked, her eyes bulged in terror and her wide, toothy grin frozen with anticipation. Her incredibly wondrous laughter had already begun before I even reached the bed, and she yelped when Jackie grabbed her legs and tucked her knees underneath her armpits snugly, then I sat down on the bed with my back up against Jackie’s and held Angela’s ankles firmly underneath my arms, immobilizing her completely from the waist down. I quivered and purred with joy as I began slowly, laboriously removing Angela’s left slipper.
“Please, Jay!” Angela whimpered with giggles distorting her high, lilting voice, “P-PLEASE stop! You KNOW how ticklish my feet are! PLEASE!!! D-d-don’t pull off my slippers and tickle my feet! Have MERCY! PLEASE???!!!”
I don’t have the cranial capacity to dream up more adorable begging than Angela’s. I’m more aroused just by her hysterical, desperate pleas than I am actually TICKLING most women. And to think I almost reserved a room at the Comfort Inn instead! Driven into manic fits of desire just from Angela’s words, particularly the mention of her and I having a “tickle history” of sorts, I tossed her left slipper off the bed, to which Angela squeaked and whimpered and wiggled her now-bare left toes, then plucked off her right slipper and discarded it on the other side of the bed. At the glorious sight of Angela’s cute little bare feet (I took notice of the letter “S” in a circle and a “5-6” embossed on the bottom of her slipper soles), frosted pink painted toes curled up tight, her proposal of mercy became entirely impossible. With bubbling-over giddiness and delicate, teasing strokes, my fingernails amazingly lightly traced all along both Angela’s bare arches, wriggling down near her heels and up along her insteps across to the balls of her feet. “You say I KNOW your feet are ticklish, Angela?” I teased with a soft chuckle.
“EEEEEEKKK!! OMIGOD OMIGOD OMIGOD!!! HAHAHAHAhehhehhehhehhehheh! Y-yes, you DO know! AH hahahahahaheeheehee! You DO! P-PLEASE STO-O-O-O-OP!!! Ooohoohoohoo HAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh, PLEASE!!! N-NO MORE!!! Hehhehhehhehheh! I c-can’t TAKE anymo-o-o-o-o-ore!!! HAHAHA!! HAHAHAHAheeheeheeheehee!” As if I needed this to be any more perfect, from the angle I was sitting on the bed at, I could see in the mirror across the room the image of me tickling Angela’s perfect bare feet like mad, her face just barely visible behind me, fixed in a huge, laughing grin, her cheeks and forehead reddening, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. I even was treated to the playful thumps of what had to have been Angela’s desperately pounding fists on the bed. Honestly, the entire affair put all of my best wet tickling dreams to absolute shame.
As I allowed my gaze to settle on Angela’s adorable little bare feet, kicking and twitching like crazy and her toes wiggling adorably, I smiled with pure ecstasy and began to vary the intensity, pressure and location on her feet that I tickled with, sometimes tracing my fingernails gingerly along her heels and insteps, other times frantically drumming my fingertips up and down her arches, still other times wiggling her toes back and forth softly between my thumb and forefinger one by one, making sure Angela’s brain, dizzy and scrambled from the tickling sensations, couldn’t even begin to predict what I’d do next. Angela’s hypnotic laughter became loud and throaty, then dissolved into nearly silent laughter, coming out in squeaks and yelps and squeals, then reduced to a steady barrage of uncontrollable, girlish giggles that were sweeter than any sound I had ever heard. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Jackie’s bare feet sticking out from underneath her tush. They were longer and skinnier than Angela’s, and didn’t look quite as soft, but nonetheless were still ripe for a very unexpected tickling.
How can I pass this up? Might as well find out if I can double my tickling pleasure. After all, and it bears repeating, this IS my room…while continuing to tease and torture Angela’s left sole with my right hand, I slyly, inconspicuously reached behind me with my left hand until I made sweet, delicate contact with the bottom of Jackie’s right foot, which interrupted her taunting of Angela with a surprised squeal. “Aaahhh! No no! Y-you’re not supposed to tickle ME!” Jackie sputtered with fearful giggles. On cue, I let my fingertips dance and swirl tantalizingly along Jackie’s arch. “Oh no! Please! Heeheeheeheehahahahaha! D-do-o-o-o-on’t t-tickle MY feet! Ah hahahahahaha! C-cut it out!”
“Heeheeheehee! Hahahaha! G-GET her, Jay, get her! AH hahahahaha! SHE sh-shouldn’t g-get o-ahHAHAHAHAHAHA…o-off the hook!” Angela advised me through fits of giggles and squeals.
It’s official. I’ve died and gone to Heaven. And I sure as Hell don’t dare pinch myself to see if this is real. If it IS a dream, I’m stayin’ asleep! “Okay, Jackie, tell ya what: it’d be the fairest thing to do if I tickled both you and Angela at the same time…do we have a deal?” I asked, hope and virtual prayer highlighting my voice, and in the meantime I switched back and forth between Jackie’s upturned soles, very wrinkled up underneath her tush, with vigorous, playful drumming and swirling of my fingertips, and of course not neglecting Angela’s bare feet and toes, either, adoring how easy it was to make them squirm and wiggle gorgeously.
“Tell him it’s oka-a-a-a-a-a-ay, Angie! T-TELL him! Heeheeheeheehee! O-otherwise h-he’ll forget about you a-a-ah hahahahaha and just t-tickle me-e-e-e-e!” Jackie squeaked, completely unable to move her feet as my fingertips teased them, though her toes did scrunch up as best they could. To make things even more delicious for me, I greatly increased the intensity with which I wriggled and glided my fingertips along Angela’s bare arches. Barely coherent between high-pitched shrieks and giggles, Angela somehow managed to reply, “O-o-o-ka-a-a-a-a-ay…b-but I need a rest first! PLEASE!!!!”
If you think for a moment wanting to pull away from the glorious feel of two young ladies’ ticklish bare soles beneath my fingertips, even for a second, was easy, then I want two of whatever you’re having. Nonetheless, I didn’t want them to feel truly tortured or to break down and cry, and they certainly seemed to be having every bit as much fun as I was, which I didn’t want to risk whatsoever. As my fingertips slowly left the bottoms of both Angela’s and Jackie’s bare feet, they both breathed heavy, grateful sighs of relief, many leftover giggles falling out of their smiling lips, and Angela exhaustedly gasped, “Oh, thank you thank you thank you…” as Jackie flopped on the bed beside her, letting go of Angela’s legs and hugging her tight. I took the opportunity to flex my fingers and twitch my pelvic area a bit, given how wet things were there at that point, and at that I heard both ladies giggle at me. I turned around and looked at their adorable, smiling faces, which were very different and yet both very attractive, and then things, incredibly, got even better.
“Oooooh! I think SOMEONE’S gotten hot tickling our feet, don’t you, Angela?” Jackie teased.
“Uh-huh,” Angela cooed. “I think we make TWO killer tickle toys, Jackie!”
“We may have to BOTH be called Tee-Tee after this is over, Angie!” Jackie squealed, and both girls giggled adorably, enchanting me and freezing me to the spot, staring at them, smiling, so very, VERY thankful the gods of tickling brought these two gorgeous playthings to me. “Well?” Jackie added, “What are you waiting for, Jay? You’ve got some well-deserved tickling to do, Mister!”
If I have to pay for their rooms myself, I’m gonna make sure these two stay at LEAST one more night, that’s for sure. Centering myself on the middle part of the foot of the bed so I could see both ladies’ faces in the mirror reflection, I reached down and snatched Angela’s right ankle and Jackie’s left one, lifting their corresponding legs and pinning Angela’s ankle under my left armpit and Jackie’s ankle under my right, making certain they couldn’t kick me with their free legs since they’d be on the outside. Hey, I’m meticulous about details, what can I say?
“UH oh…we’re in trouble NOW, Angie,” Jackie practically sang, voice laced with adorable giggles.
“We sure ARE, Jackie! Someone’s gonna tickle our FEET…” Angela responded, even better at sounding cute and playful than Jackie was, her soft, pretty giggling making her words irresistible.
For a length of time that, thankfully, felt like about eight weeks, I impishly, playfully teased and tickled both ladies’ bare feet, even being as bold and frisky as to lean down and trail soft, tender kisses along their bare wiggling toes, occasionally flicking my tongue across and in between them one by one. If anything was more fabulous than Angela’s sweet laughter, it was her and Jackie both laughing and shrieking and begging in sync, and at one juncture they even tightly held hands, Angela burying her head in Jackie’s neck, both women gritting their widely-grinning teeth tightly and shutting their eyes, prolonged, soft squeals filling the air around me until they graduated into glorious streams of giggles.
I’d tell you where all this lovely tickling led, but that’s another chapter for another day, and perhaps I’ll be gracious enough to share that with you, too, making you feel and understand every sensation I experienced as though you were there instead of me…
Yeah, right.
The thud of my tossed suitcase landing on the bed matched the tone of my sigh as I entered the hotel room. Tired from the mere thought of the unfinished paperwork awaiting me inside, I let my mind fill up with all the reasons why I needed a good, long vacation. I can’t STAND paperwork…preliminary sales forecasts due Monday, and we don’t even open the damned STORE til Friday! Ugggggh, what a hassle…
Work takes a lot out of a man, that’s for sure. You stay so busy, you feel like you’re married to your career, or at least that it’s whoring you out. Hard to find time for other “things” that you might enjoy…you know, not sleazy things or creepy things, just…things. Things you’d never want your colleagues to know about you. Things you sure as Hell couldn’t explain to Mom and Dad. Things you sometimes feel like only you think are fun, that no one els…
What was that?
Casting my eyes ceiling-ward to trace the source of the noise, I heard a regular pattern of light thumping, each thump accented by loud, girlish giggles and playful shrieks. “NO!” I heard just through the vent next to the overhead light, “Please, DON’T!” At that point I heard two thuds similar to the one my jampacked suitcase had made on my bed, followed by some of the most helpless, beautiful laughter I had ever heard.
All the same, self-pity briefly enveloped me, and I frowned. Crazy newlyweds! Likely too young to know what it's like to thanklessly work your ass off, to not have time for play. Wish they’d just get to the “main event,” it’d probably be quieter. Oh well, might as well stop pissing and moaning and get to this paperwork…
With all the enthusiasm and glee of a garbage man working the inner city route, I clicked open my suitcase, took out one of what seemed like an endless pile of stuffed manila folders, this one marked “Industry Trends, last quarter,” placed it on the desk and sat down, dreading the impending task of rifling through lines and lines of hypothetical numbers. I mulled over the first page absent-mindedly when I became startled by two events: I heard a much closer chorus of giggles and shrieks than I had heard from upstairs, followed by the top page of my stack blowing clear off the desk. I turned around, further shocked to see my door fly open and a squealing young woman occupying the doorway, slamming my door, locking it and exhaling loudly.
Rather overzealous room service they have in this place. Not feeling anywhere as much threatened as intrigued, I let my face take on a wry smirk as the young woman, taking a full five seconds to catch her breath, turned around and, upon seeing me sitting there quizzically observing her, yelped in surprise. “Omigod!” she said, her youthful, excited voice making one word of the three, “What are you doing in my room?” Her face showed a bit of shock, yet beneath her wide, brown eyes a wide smile of incredulity shone sweetly, some leftover cute giggling spilling forth from between her teeth.
“I might ask you the same question, Miss,” I replied, chuckling in spite of myself. “You seem like you’re having WAY too much fun, and yet you seem anxious to hide somewhere. Did the Hare Krishnas follow you from the airport?”
Though she giggled, I could tell she didn’t seem to get the joke, more like she just had so many pent up giggles inside her she would have laughed at the MacNeil-Lehrer report. “Omigod, I am SOOOO sorry to have barged into your room! This is so embarrassing! I just was spazzing out running down the hall hoping Jackie didn’t catch me!” she concluded with more giggles, the sound of which was beginning to stir inside me in ways that caught even me off guard.
“Jackie?” I asked, and that point I looked this young woman over generously. (I was leering a bit, sure, but this WAS my room, after all) She stood maybe about 5’3”, was very trim and petite, had shoulder-length, wavy auburn hair with a white hair clip running across her head like a mock tiara, not to mention the aforementioned wide, expressive brown eyes and pretty smile, nicely accentuated with subtle freckles in between. She wore only a white nightshirt that read “It IS all about me” that swept down nearly to her knees and a small pair of backless black fuzzy slippers with pink hearts where the laces on a pair of shoes would be. I imagined she was roughly 19, maybe 20, and at this point most certainly needed to know why she was in my room. “So you and Jackie must’ve been the ones making so much noise above me a while back…” I said with no trace of irritation or scolding in my voice.
She was nonetheless embarrassed, and she looked down and shuffled her slippered feet. “I…I’m sorry, sir,” she stammered. “I really feel like a total dork. It’s just that, well…” a slight pink blush swept over her cheeks as she continued, “Well, Jackie was trying to tickle me and I had to escape. I honestly thought I was running into my own room. I’ll bet I’m in the one next to you,” she finished with her voice regaining some of its youthful lilt and beauty.
“So Jackie’s got a bit of a tickling fetish, eh?” I said, chuckling in spite of myself.
She giggled more in response, and I noticed a warm, tingly twinge in my loins each time I heard her sweet, musical laughter. I was really hoping it wasn’t obvious to her, and I crossed my legs casually to further conceal the fact. “Oh, Jackie’s RELENTLESS! It’s like I’m some little tickle toy or something some days” she said with adorable little yips and giggles punctuating her words, “I think it’s, like, a C. J. Madison thing or something.”
I could only assume that the Madison reference was about some high school Jackie must have attended that rivaled the one this young lady had gone to, but it didn’t matter. I was transfixed by her simple, graceful beauty and her high-pitched giggly voice. So transfixed was I, in fact, my brain began to whirl with the types of thoughts that would make my preacher want to smack my hand with an old wooden yardstick. I’ve got to keep this woman here somehow, and THEN somehow see if I can sneak in a sly tickle or two….but HOW? Hmmmmm….
My smile nearly pushed my cheekbones up against my temples. I’ve got it!
“You know,” I began, failing to clear my throat enough to prevent my voice from sounding thick with anticipation, “Jackie’s likely to find you any moment, and then there’s no telling how much trouble you’ll be in. In interest of saving you from a good sound tickling, I think I’d better hide you.” The exhale that I ended my words with felt and sounded like the air going out of an inflatable mattress.
Her reaction was the stuff of dreams I’ve often had while doing research on my laptop: her eyes widened even more, her smile became open-mouthed and, I must admit, downright sexy, and she nearly jumped off the carpet with apparent glee. “You will? Really? Oh, Mister, THANK you! I owe you big time! Should I get in the closet, you think?”
I noticeably shivered at her words and quickly regained at least some composure. “Er, well, no…um, I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Angela,” she answered with the same lilt in her voice that I had already become enamored with. “Nice to meet you, um…er….”
“Jay,” I told her through an obvious lump in my throat. “And anyhow, the closet is the first place Jackie will look. It might be better if you got up under the desk here. Since I’m sitting here doing work, your teeny body will be well-hidden in case Jackie comes in here looking for you.”
However slight my concerns may have been that I had gone too far and seemed too obvious with that last request, they were removed in a hurry. “That’s a great idea, Jay!” she giggled some more and got down on all fours, crawling past my chair and underneath my desk. This is too good to be true! Just relax, though, take deep breaths, and, for God’s sake, DON’T BLOW IT! “Here, let me make sure you don’t hit your head, Angela,” I prefaced as an excuse to guide her under my desk with my fingertips gently placed on her sides, at which point I took the liberty to let my excited fingers wriggle slightly, nearly undetectably along her ribs.
Her giggles reached greater intensity and pitch and she said “S-sorry!” as she crawled under the desk, far enough underneath where I could look directly down and see that only the toes of her slippers were touching the floor, meaning her tiny bare soles were separated from the bottoms of her slippers by a good six inches or so. Even though her arches were stretched tighter by her being on her toes, the bottoms of Angela’s feet still showed some wrinkles, and I shuddered with joy and knew I had to act quickly. Reaching down gingerly, I placed the palms of my hands gently on Angela’s exposed bare soles under the guise of trying to push her further under the desk. Her astonished yelp was sweet fuel for my burning passion, and she nearly jumped off the carpet in spite of her being on her knees. “Aahh! T-that tickles!”
The mere words sent me into nearly dizzying feelings of tickle lust, and I had to gulp very audibly to not let my exhilarated voice reach soprano levels. “Sorry, Angela…just trying to get you better hidden, hon,” I managed to reply, in the meantime removing my hands from her bare soles by gliding them slowly, delicately up along her arches and across her heels with exaggerated, slow grazes of my fingertips.
“Heh heh heh heh heh!” she giggled freely, and my heart nearly jumped into my esophagus. That Jackie is a lucky guy. ‘Little tickle toy,’ indeed. He must have a ball with those tiny little sensitive bare feet of hers. And me? I spend so much time trying to move up a tax bracket that delicious little tickle morsels like Angela get spoken for. Ugh! At the ripe old age of 25, I’m already a washed-up would-be tickle monst…
The knock at the door made me jerk in my chair, and I heard Angela whisper, “Oh no…it’s Jackie!” as I whipped my head around and stammered, “Uh….come in!”
The door opened with a quick thrust, and in my doorway now was…who? Yet ANOTHER pretty young co-ed stood there smiling politely at me, this one with long, sandy-blonde hair, piercing hazel eyes, a rather buxom figure and wearing nothing but a plaid blue bathrobe. “Excuse me, sir, my name’s Jackie and I’m hoping you can find a friend of mine. I’m not sure where she went…”
My eyes widened and my eyebrows raised noticeably, and a slight peep of interest exhaled from my smiling lips. So Jackie’s NOT a guy! Well WELL…perhaps this night is ready to get more interesting. “Uh, a friend, you say, Jackie? Well, I’m not sure,” I said with a voice that contained enough teasing to sound suspicious on purpose. I decided to further add to my fun by subtlely tracing an index fingernail along Angela’s bare left heel and instep, and even as I finished with, “What does she look like?” I could still hear Angela’s muffled, whispery giggles and saw her right foot brush across the left one from up out of the slipper as she muttered, “Hee hee hee! D-don’t!”
“Yeah, and I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but she’s about yeah high,” she explained by putting her hand up at about mid-nose level, “has brown hair and eyes, and would probably have been running down the hallway, giggling and pleading for her life,” Jackie said with a wry smile. “Notice anything like that here lately?”
I don’t know what I did to deserve this, or even who I’m supposed to thank, but THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. Nearly hyperventilating, I began to feel intensely dizzy, much in the way you do when a roller coaster is near the very top of a steep upcoming drop. “Uh, well, no, not really,” I offered, not technically lying, after all, and in the meantime I reached down and firmly latched onto Angela’s right ankle, to which she squeaked and murmured “Oh, God, no…” and as my anxious, swirling fingertips teased her bare heel, the ball of her foot and especially her silky soft, wrinkled arch, Angela’s toes began wiggling frantically in a futile effort to keep her laughter muffled, but ultimately a hearty “HA HA HA!” fell from her lips, and Jackie looked down with a bemused expression.
“Haven’t seen her, eh? Then I wonder who THIS could be,” she remarked while sauntering past me, reaching down and tugging on Angela’s right leg by the ankle. Angela squealed and offered no real resistance to Jackie pulling her out from under the desk, and as Jackie stared down at her with mock disapproval, Angela’s face broke into a nervous, giggly smile and she stammered, “H-hi, Jackie! W-w-what brings you here?”
It was easy to see that Jackie was a far more aggressive, assertive, dominant sort, while Angela seemed ideally submissive, fearful and yet oddly compliant. My level of intrigue made it impossible for me to hide my external show of pleasure any longer. This is REALLY hot! Even if I don’t get to join in, watching Jackie tickle Angela into a giggly little puddle of mush would be TOO much fun! They sure can use my bed if they want…
Jackie’s face took on one of confident, self-assured control, and she walked slowly toward Angela as she scrambled to her feet, her right slipper barely back on. “Oh, you KNOW what brings me here, Angie…SOMEONE promised to tip the bellhop on our way in, and SOMEONE had a lame excuse about spending all her change in the pop machine…I’m afraid you’ll have to be punished for that, sweetie…”
“Aaaaaahhh! N-no! I-I’m sorry, Jackie!” Angela blubbered with trepidation and giggles accenting her desperate voice. She backed up a little too close to my bed, the footboard catching just underneath her tush and causing her to tumble backward in what looked like an accident but may very well not have completely been. “P-PLEASE don’t do what I THINK you’re gonna do…”
“Sorry, Tee-Tee, but you leave me no choice,” Jackie’s voice sang, her eye winking devilishly, and she piled on top of Angela with cat-like quickness, straddling atop her waist and probing her sides with thorough, practiced strokes and drumming of her fingertips. “Tickle tickle TICKLE,” she teased Angela in a baby-talk voice.
Have you ever been so enthralled by something you were watching that you just couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but just sit there and enjoy the show, glad that you could attend? That was me. Jackie was an obvious expert tickler, that was clear from the start, and Angela barely resisted, merely swatting weakly with her hands and rolling her adorably cackling head back and forth, her eyes shut tight, her mouth fixed in a howling smile. “AH HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! No no no! PLEASE!! Heh heh heh heh hahahahaha!Pleasedon’ttickleme AAAAAHHH HAHAHAHAHAHA! S-sto-o-o-o-o-oppp!!”
“Aw, is poor widdle Angewa all TICKWISH? Aw, poor iddle baby!” Jackie teased, her fingertips playing Angela’s upper body like a finely-tuned instrument, wriggling and fluttering up along her sides and all the way up to her armpits, poking and grazing there playfully, then trailing back down Angela’s sides, squeezing her ribs teasingly, and then drumming and swirling across her belly, heaving with fits of laughter, with both hands. “Kootchy kootchy KOO, Angie! I’ll bet NEXT time you have some change with you…”
Since nobody was looking at me, and this WAS my room and my private show, evidently, I felt that less-than-subtlely rubbing between my legs with an open hand was not only appropriate, but a damned good idea besides. Angela thrashed on the bed and wiggled adorably up underneath Jackie’s tush, her constant stream of hysterical laughter and spastic pleading playing like sweet, gorgeous music. “EEEEEEKKK!!! I will I will I WILL…heeheeheeheehee! I p-pro-o-o-o-o-missssssse! AH hahahahahahaha! Heh heh heh heh ooo hoohoohoohoo! PLEE-EEE-EEEASE stop, Jackie! Heeheeheeheehee! PRETTY please?! Heh heh heh! I-it TICKLES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Jackie was obviously every bit as intent on teasing poor, defenseless Angela as tickling her into hysteria. And just as I was ready to vow life-long faithful homage to the tickling gods for allowing me to watch such a glorious event, my tickle slots turned up three cherries. “And you even bothered this poor man with your nonsense, Angie! I do believe HE needs to teach you a lesson , too!” She turned to me with a knowing wink, all while continuing to tease Angela’s petite, hyper-sensitive upper body, causing her to giggle and squeal and plead with great intensity. “Hey, Sir, no offense here, but you helped Angela here by trying to hide her from me….how’s about you help ME now? After all, fair’s fair…”
If Angela’s eyes had gotten any wider, they would’ve done one of those popping-out-of-the-socket cartoon things, likely catapulting her contacts across the room if she wore any. “OMIGOD!! NonononoNO!! Please, Jay, P-PLEASE don’t! PLEEEEEEEEEASE???” she begged pitifully with a classic puppy-dog-eyed stare and her voice adorably quivery and whimpering.
There are probably at least a dozen very sound ethical reasons why I shouldn’t get involved here…and I’ll be damned if I’m listening to any of them. Copying Jackie’s wink, I got up from the chair and slowly ambled over to the bed, eager to participate in the hottest, most lovely tickling scene I had ever witnessed live. “You corral her knees, Jackie, and I’ll hold her ankles good and proper,” I announced, clearly talking to Jackie but just as obviously staring directly at Angela with a mischievous gleam in my eyes.
“OH NO! NO!!! N-n-not my FEET! OMIGOD NO NO NO!!! ANYTHING but that!!!” Angela shrieked, her eyes bulged in terror and her wide, toothy grin frozen with anticipation. Her incredibly wondrous laughter had already begun before I even reached the bed, and she yelped when Jackie grabbed her legs and tucked her knees underneath her armpits snugly, then I sat down on the bed with my back up against Jackie’s and held Angela’s ankles firmly underneath my arms, immobilizing her completely from the waist down. I quivered and purred with joy as I began slowly, laboriously removing Angela’s left slipper.
“Please, Jay!” Angela whimpered with giggles distorting her high, lilting voice, “P-PLEASE stop! You KNOW how ticklish my feet are! PLEASE!!! D-d-don’t pull off my slippers and tickle my feet! Have MERCY! PLEASE???!!!”
I don’t have the cranial capacity to dream up more adorable begging than Angela’s. I’m more aroused just by her hysterical, desperate pleas than I am actually TICKLING most women. And to think I almost reserved a room at the Comfort Inn instead! Driven into manic fits of desire just from Angela’s words, particularly the mention of her and I having a “tickle history” of sorts, I tossed her left slipper off the bed, to which Angela squeaked and whimpered and wiggled her now-bare left toes, then plucked off her right slipper and discarded it on the other side of the bed. At the glorious sight of Angela’s cute little bare feet (I took notice of the letter “S” in a circle and a “5-6” embossed on the bottom of her slipper soles), frosted pink painted toes curled up tight, her proposal of mercy became entirely impossible. With bubbling-over giddiness and delicate, teasing strokes, my fingernails amazingly lightly traced all along both Angela’s bare arches, wriggling down near her heels and up along her insteps across to the balls of her feet. “You say I KNOW your feet are ticklish, Angela?” I teased with a soft chuckle.
“EEEEEEKKK!! OMIGOD OMIGOD OMIGOD!!! HAHAHAHAhehhehhehhehhehheh! Y-yes, you DO know! AH hahahahahaheeheehee! You DO! P-PLEASE STO-O-O-O-OP!!! Ooohoohoohoo HAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh, PLEASE!!! N-NO MORE!!! Hehhehhehhehheh! I c-can’t TAKE anymo-o-o-o-o-ore!!! HAHAHA!! HAHAHAHAheeheeheeheehee!” As if I needed this to be any more perfect, from the angle I was sitting on the bed at, I could see in the mirror across the room the image of me tickling Angela’s perfect bare feet like mad, her face just barely visible behind me, fixed in a huge, laughing grin, her cheeks and forehead reddening, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. I even was treated to the playful thumps of what had to have been Angela’s desperately pounding fists on the bed. Honestly, the entire affair put all of my best wet tickling dreams to absolute shame.
As I allowed my gaze to settle on Angela’s adorable little bare feet, kicking and twitching like crazy and her toes wiggling adorably, I smiled with pure ecstasy and began to vary the intensity, pressure and location on her feet that I tickled with, sometimes tracing my fingernails gingerly along her heels and insteps, other times frantically drumming my fingertips up and down her arches, still other times wiggling her toes back and forth softly between my thumb and forefinger one by one, making sure Angela’s brain, dizzy and scrambled from the tickling sensations, couldn’t even begin to predict what I’d do next. Angela’s hypnotic laughter became loud and throaty, then dissolved into nearly silent laughter, coming out in squeaks and yelps and squeals, then reduced to a steady barrage of uncontrollable, girlish giggles that were sweeter than any sound I had ever heard. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Jackie’s bare feet sticking out from underneath her tush. They were longer and skinnier than Angela’s, and didn’t look quite as soft, but nonetheless were still ripe for a very unexpected tickling.
How can I pass this up? Might as well find out if I can double my tickling pleasure. After all, and it bears repeating, this IS my room…while continuing to tease and torture Angela’s left sole with my right hand, I slyly, inconspicuously reached behind me with my left hand until I made sweet, delicate contact with the bottom of Jackie’s right foot, which interrupted her taunting of Angela with a surprised squeal. “Aaahhh! No no! Y-you’re not supposed to tickle ME!” Jackie sputtered with fearful giggles. On cue, I let my fingertips dance and swirl tantalizingly along Jackie’s arch. “Oh no! Please! Heeheeheeheehahahahaha! D-do-o-o-o-on’t t-tickle MY feet! Ah hahahahahaha! C-cut it out!”
“Heeheeheehee! Hahahaha! G-GET her, Jay, get her! AH hahahahaha! SHE sh-shouldn’t g-get o-ahHAHAHAHAHAHA…o-off the hook!” Angela advised me through fits of giggles and squeals.
It’s official. I’ve died and gone to Heaven. And I sure as Hell don’t dare pinch myself to see if this is real. If it IS a dream, I’m stayin’ asleep! “Okay, Jackie, tell ya what: it’d be the fairest thing to do if I tickled both you and Angela at the same time…do we have a deal?” I asked, hope and virtual prayer highlighting my voice, and in the meantime I switched back and forth between Jackie’s upturned soles, very wrinkled up underneath her tush, with vigorous, playful drumming and swirling of my fingertips, and of course not neglecting Angela’s bare feet and toes, either, adoring how easy it was to make them squirm and wiggle gorgeously.
“Tell him it’s oka-a-a-a-a-a-ay, Angie! T-TELL him! Heeheeheeheehee! O-otherwise h-he’ll forget about you a-a-ah hahahahaha and just t-tickle me-e-e-e-e!” Jackie squeaked, completely unable to move her feet as my fingertips teased them, though her toes did scrunch up as best they could. To make things even more delicious for me, I greatly increased the intensity with which I wriggled and glided my fingertips along Angela’s bare arches. Barely coherent between high-pitched shrieks and giggles, Angela somehow managed to reply, “O-o-o-ka-a-a-a-a-ay…b-but I need a rest first! PLEASE!!!!”
If you think for a moment wanting to pull away from the glorious feel of two young ladies’ ticklish bare soles beneath my fingertips, even for a second, was easy, then I want two of whatever you’re having. Nonetheless, I didn’t want them to feel truly tortured or to break down and cry, and they certainly seemed to be having every bit as much fun as I was, which I didn’t want to risk whatsoever. As my fingertips slowly left the bottoms of both Angela’s and Jackie’s bare feet, they both breathed heavy, grateful sighs of relief, many leftover giggles falling out of their smiling lips, and Angela exhaustedly gasped, “Oh, thank you thank you thank you…” as Jackie flopped on the bed beside her, letting go of Angela’s legs and hugging her tight. I took the opportunity to flex my fingers and twitch my pelvic area a bit, given how wet things were there at that point, and at that I heard both ladies giggle at me. I turned around and looked at their adorable, smiling faces, which were very different and yet both very attractive, and then things, incredibly, got even better.
“Oooooh! I think SOMEONE’S gotten hot tickling our feet, don’t you, Angela?” Jackie teased.
“Uh-huh,” Angela cooed. “I think we make TWO killer tickle toys, Jackie!”
“We may have to BOTH be called Tee-Tee after this is over, Angie!” Jackie squealed, and both girls giggled adorably, enchanting me and freezing me to the spot, staring at them, smiling, so very, VERY thankful the gods of tickling brought these two gorgeous playthings to me. “Well?” Jackie added, “What are you waiting for, Jay? You’ve got some well-deserved tickling to do, Mister!”
If I have to pay for their rooms myself, I’m gonna make sure these two stay at LEAST one more night, that’s for sure. Centering myself on the middle part of the foot of the bed so I could see both ladies’ faces in the mirror reflection, I reached down and snatched Angela’s right ankle and Jackie’s left one, lifting their corresponding legs and pinning Angela’s ankle under my left armpit and Jackie’s ankle under my right, making certain they couldn’t kick me with their free legs since they’d be on the outside. Hey, I’m meticulous about details, what can I say?
“UH oh…we’re in trouble NOW, Angie,” Jackie practically sang, voice laced with adorable giggles.
“We sure ARE, Jackie! Someone’s gonna tickle our FEET…” Angela responded, even better at sounding cute and playful than Jackie was, her soft, pretty giggling making her words irresistible.
For a length of time that, thankfully, felt like about eight weeks, I impishly, playfully teased and tickled both ladies’ bare feet, even being as bold and frisky as to lean down and trail soft, tender kisses along their bare wiggling toes, occasionally flicking my tongue across and in between them one by one. If anything was more fabulous than Angela’s sweet laughter, it was her and Jackie both laughing and shrieking and begging in sync, and at one juncture they even tightly held hands, Angela burying her head in Jackie’s neck, both women gritting their widely-grinning teeth tightly and shutting their eyes, prolonged, soft squeals filling the air around me until they graduated into glorious streams of giggles.
I’d tell you where all this lovely tickling led, but that’s another chapter for another day, and perhaps I’ll be gracious enough to share that with you, too, making you feel and understand every sensation I experienced as though you were there instead of me…
Yeah, right.
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You have talent, Makemlaugh!
