Originally Posted by json1189
I was aged 12, and every Saturday would visit a friend's house to watch 80s WWF wrestling. His mum was also a fan, and would watch it with us. Her name was Tina, and she was about 32. She was quite slim, spiky brown hair, brown eyes, and would always wear sandal type shoes and tan or white tights (although she always referred to them as 'stockings', so maybe they were stockings!). She was rarely shoeless in the house, but as she was showing off a lot of foot anyway it didn't matter!
One night my friend and I decided to play 'blind man's bluff', with my friend being blindfolded and trying to find us. As a joke I'd decided to put loads of obstacles in his way, such as cushions, chairs etc. I asked Tina if she had any ideas for obstacles (in all innocence, honest!) and amongst other things, she came up with shoes....hmmm.
Keeping my voice as calm as possible, I wholeheartily agreed! 'Great idea, Tina!! Here, may I...?' and with that, moved over to where she sat and reached down to take her shoes off. As she was in sandals, they were very easy to take off, but I made sure to savour the moment. I sat down in front of her and lifted her tan stocking leg toward me. She was fine with this, despite wearing a skirt, and I placed my hand around her heel in an attempt to get some 'leverage' (although none was necessary), and slowly pulled off her shoe, all the while keeping a grip on her stocking heel. I did the same to the other one, and there she sat, shoeless and in stocking feet, my friend's cool mum!! I made sure to put the shoes way on the other side of the room, so that there was no way she could get them back on. My heart was beating, but I made sure to get on with the game of blind man's bluff, all the while stealing glances at Tina's stocking feet. They were quite big, I'd estimate about size 5 or 6, and barely moved while the game of blind man's bluff went on, no toe wiggling or flexing. Still, I was happy to have her shoeless!
The game was eventually over, and myself and my friend set about putting the place back to normal. I made a beeline for Tina's shoes, but my friend grabbed one before me so we both went to place them back on her feet. She lifted her legs so her feet were sticking outward, and we placed her shoes back on her feet...albeit left on right, right on left! Tina let out a semi-frustrated sigh, and shook them off, and asked us to do it properly. As we put them on she asked us to be careful of her feet. I fully intended to do it as slowly as possible, maybe 'accidentally' touching sole or instep as I returned her shoe, but the fact she asked us to be careful raised my interest.
'Be careful? Why, are your feet ticklish?' I asked innocently
'Erm...yes', she said sheepishly, maybe knowing what was coming next.
'Like this?', and with that, I quickly attacked her stocking sole! She flinched, shot me a dirty look, but had a small smile on her face, so I knew I'd hit paydirt. For the next few years after that, I would get to mess about with her feet several times over. It became somewhat of a tradition for her son and I to have wrestling matches after watching WWF, and this later morphed into me having wrestling matches with Tina!!
I think I suggested it one day, and she was quite willing. She was in her sandal type shoes, so before we did anything I insisted that they came off, and slowly removed them. She was in white tights on this occassion, and was doing a crossword. I didn't mind this as it meant I could stare at her feet for longer! We eventually began to wrestle, and I'd often go for leglocks and things to be near her feet. I'd also let her take me down and pin me, preferably underfoot! These matches became a regular thing for us over the years from when I was about 12 to 15 years old, and would follow a set pattern. I'd always say something along the lines of 'Tina, can I take your shoes off and wrestle you?' She'd often say something like 'Well...if you must', and so I'd take slowly ease her shoes off, and wait until she was ready. I never forced it, and not only would she never complain about me taking her shoes off, but she'd always give me the match. I remember once that she was on her knees, and I was wrapped around her. This allowed me perfect access to her stocking feet, and I went nuts tickling them until she submitted, which didn't take long!
'WAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Submit, submit, submit!! He'sticklingmyfeet!!He'sticklingmyFEEEET'
So I'd stop, as she'd submitted. Then I'd tickle her feet some more....
I remember that at times she'd complain that she was slipping around in stocking feet, and despite my protests (I prefer stocking feet, and said that as I was in socks it was equal!) she did it barefoot (and in a leotard!). I think it may have been just us alone in the house, as I know my friend wasn't nearby. We ended up in some sort of leglock or another, and her bare foot was near my hand. I reached out to tickle it, and got no response. She said that she could sometimes turn her ticklishness on and off, so I did it again and got no reaction, other than an awkward silence...!
Another time, when I was wrestling my friend I was on the floor directly underneath her stocking foot (she was shoeless, so I'd probably taken them off earlier). My friend had me in a hold of some sort, but I was happy lying there, gazing up at her tan stocking sole, pretending to try and escape but not putting up any resistence. I'd use her foot to try and escape the hold, using it for 'leverage' to pull myself up, and she never complained once as my hands clasped her feet and toes.
In fact, I remember one time I was in the house alone with her (I was about 14) after my friend had gone out. It just the two of us watching TV, with me sitting next to her. It felt odd being there without my friend, but I went with it. As we sat there she curled her stocking feet up onto the sofa and had her toes just gently touching my thighs!!! Whether she knew what she was doing or not I don't know, but, my God, I was in wonderland!!!
My friend and I split up when I was about 15 or so, which was a shame as there was no doubt more foot play available. However, I don't think I can complain about my experiences with Tina...!
I should point out that while there's tickling, it's more from a stocking foot fetish point of view, and were originally posted on the Mousepad foot fetish site.
This is my next story about friend's mothers, and is about a woman called Irene. Irene was the complete opposite of Tina - short, squat, frumpy, slightly pug-faced...not a looker, by any means! However, a childhood lust for feet, and my confidence having been bolstered by my experiences with Tina, made me want to play with Irene's feet as well.
Now, as I've said, she wasn't much of a looker, but was always quite easy (eventually!) to dupe into taking her shoes off. She'd normally wear American tan tights, sometimes white tights, and on the odd occassion, sometimes sheer black tights. I'd been visiting this friend since I was about 13, and it took about two or three years to see her feet as she was always in shoes or slippers. One day, she came in from working a late shift, and I was at her front room table doing an essay. My friend was two years older than me, and had helped me out a bit. He was in his bedroom on his computer, and so I was alone in the front room with Irene. She walked in and said hello, and I explained why I was there. She was fine with this, and flopped down onto the setee. I wondered if I'd get to see her feet, and kept looking from the corner of my eye to see any activity. She was in open toe sandals and tan tights, and I eventually saw her slowly begin to loosen the strap on her shoes. Maybe she saw me looking, but she stopped halfway, and just had her feet resting outside her shoes, part in and out. I was desperate for her to get them off, which after about ten minutes, she did. After my success with Tina, I realised I had the chance to do the same thing with Irene, and set about thinking of ways to do so.
At the time, I was just coming off a successful spree of asking teachers at school to remove their heels and 'measure' them for a 'science experiment' (yeah right!). I planned on doing the same thing with Irene, and so if my friend wasn't around I'd ask her how tall she was, and get her to take her shoes off to show me. She'd always oblige, no questions asked! Once her slippers came off, I'd bend down and pretend to be measuring her, accidentally touching the tops or outline of her stocking feet! Other times I'd insist she put her feet up, as she was always doing housework of some sort and never relaxed. I'd get her to sit down, pull her feet up onto the sofa and then take off her slippers to get her comfy.
I eventually mustered up the courage to go from looking at her feet to playing with her feet. The feet up and slippers off had become a bit of a regular thing if my friend wasn't there (he'd be having driving lessons, maybe), but on this particular occassion he was in the room too. He knew I'd get her to sit down and relax, but maybe not about the shoe removal (I don't know if she told him or not, but he never mentioned it). Anyway, I had her sat down, and plonked her feet up on the coffee table, pulling both slippers from her feet simultaneously.
Out of nowhere, boosted by teenage hormones and curiosity, I asked her if she wanted her feet massaged. I regretted saying it slightly, as it was an odd thing to ask out the blue, and wondered what her response would be. She looked a bit bemused, laughed a bit, and said 'Yeah, if you like', but didn't seem bothered one way or the other. I asked my mate if it was alright, he was fine with it and so off I went, trying to remain as calm and natural voiced as possible. I pulled a chair up to sit opposite her, pulled her feet onto my lap and began gently massaging her tan stocking soles, tweaking her toes caressing her insteps, asking her how it felt. I didn't see a change in her mood i.e. more relaxed, but she seemed quite taken by it, and went a bit quiet as I continued. I only did it for about ten minutes or so, and stopped before I pushed my luck too far. Even though she wasn't a looker, my 15 year old heart was beating away, as to be massaging the feet of a friend's mother seemed so....exciting, somehow wrong, but that was what made it so cool. I was lost in the moment, and thought about it all the way home. I wondered if I'd get another chance, and thankfully I did a few months later.
My friend recently passed his driving test, and invited me over one Sunday. I went there, only to find that he really wanted me there to help wash his new car, which I was less then impressed about. He lived in a small block of flats, which meant we had to keep going upstairs to get refills of water. We took it in turns, and while I was getting the bucket filled up I began talking to his mother, who was sitting on her bed reading a book. Her bedroom was down the hall, but was directly opposite the front door. I went into talk to her while the bucket filled up, and noticed that for the first time since I'd known her she was wearing black tights. Now, this was too good an opportunity to resist. I began talking to her, and as we talked, I slowly began changing the topic to her shoes, which were laid out neatly around her bedroom.
As we were talking, I said she had lots of shoes, but no trainers, and so asked if she'd like to try on mine. She agreed, slipped off her slippers (they almost just dropped off her feet) and put them on. We had a bit of a chat, I went to stop the bucket from overflowing and then went to get my trainers back from her. Irene placed her feet in my lap, and I slowly unlaced each trainer, and slid them off her feet, savouring the moment. As each foot became exposed I gave each one a a little tickle from toe to heel, but she didn't flinch, smile or laugh as she wasn't ticklish. I expressed disappointment with this, but wasn't to be deterred.
'You're not ticklish?!?! Oh, that's not fair....! At least you don't mind having your feet massaged, eh? Shall I give you a foot massage instead, seeing as how you're not ticklish?'
She laughed, and happily placed her black stocking feet in my lap. I gently tickled and massaged her feet for about ten minutes, which Irene willingly let me do. I'd play with her toes, move down to her heels and insteps, thumbs and fingers rubbing against the soft material of her tights. Irene made no effort to stop me or get away, so I like to think she was enjoying it, probably not as much as me, but enjoying it nonetheless! As I massaged and caressed each foot, I was asking her if it tickled, asking her if she was enjoying it, to which the answers were 'no' and 'yes'. I then switched from massaging to a soft tickling, trying to get a reaction. There still wasn't so much as a squirm, so to try and tickle I started ticklng harder but to no avail. At that point, I was interrupted by the telephone ringing.
Here comes the best part!
Irene swung her legs from my lap to the floor, and padded out to the hall in stocking feet to answer the phone. I had expected her to put her slippers back on, so this was a pleasant turn of events! She was on the phone for about five minutes or so, then hung up. I was expecting her to shoo me out the room, but without saying anything else she came back into the bedroom, sat on the bed and placed her feet back on my lap! I didn't say anything, but returned to work, fingers working over each spot of her foot, looking for reactions of ticklishness or relaxation in her face. I continued switching between massaging and tickling her feet, sometimes massaging one and tickling the other! I eventually (by accident) found one little ticklish spot on her feet, just at the base of the ball and top of the instep! She flinched and laughed when I found it, and pulled away, saying it tickled!
'Are you okay, Irene?'
'Hehehe...yeah...it just tickled a bit...'
'I thought you weren't ticklish! Let's try again...'
'No...!! No, just rub them...'
This was fine with me, and so I promised not to do it again, and carried on massaging her feet. I then took a chance and sniffed her foot from toes to heel, and said that she had smelly feet, even though she didn't. She took offence to this, protesting that her feet didn't smell, that her tights were clean on and that she'd just had a bath ect etc. She said this quite loudly as well, and so as to not draw any attention to things it seemed like a good point to end on. I apologised and let her go, and realised that I must have played with her feet for about 25 minutes.
Amazingly, throughout all this time, my friend stayed downstairs washing the car.....!
Hope you enjoyed, guys.
Here's another one, involving my best friend's mother.
It was Christmas day 1997, I was 22 years old and it was somewhat of a tradition to visit my best friend on Christmas day. I got there in the early evening, fully prepared for a night of laughter, drinking and fun. My best friend's mother, Helen, is an attractive lady who I think looks a bit like British actress Amanda Redman (albeit a brunette version). I've always got on well with his family, but very rarely got to see Helen's feet. She's quite tall, normal sized and quite funny. As I say she's quite attractive (I've told my friend this, much to his despair!), and I think she enjoys all the 'young men' slightly fancying her. Getting hold of her feet, so to speak, was never really that big a deal, but I'd decided if the chance came, I'd grab it.
The evening was going well, drink and conversation both in full flow. Helen was wearing chunky maroon slippers (closed toe), tan tights, a tweedy brown skirt and pale brown jumper. Her slippers remained firmly on her feet, although I was able to look at heel and instep when she had the odd dangle. It wasn't the end of the world, by any means, as I was having fun regardless. However, a few hours later and during a game of charades it was Helen's turn to perform. She stood in the centre of the room to perform her mime, and realised that she was the centre of attention. I was talking to someone else at the time, and was sat on the opposite side of the room. As she began to perform her mime, I heard Helen say 'I don't feel very sexy up here, these slippers aren't very sexy!' and with one swish of each leg kicked her slippers off. For good affect she then slid them into a corner, and stood there in tan stocking feet. My attention was now fully on her!!
She went through the motions of the mime, and I went to grab a drink, purely on the basis of swapping seats to see her legs and feet from behind. She remained quite flat-footed throughout, but once the mime was over she sat down and didn't put her slippers back on. I seem to recall that she remained like that for the rest of the night. As the night wore on (it was a VERY long night!!) she eventually flumped onto the sofa, and swung her feet up onto the armrest. I had a hint of stocking sole from my vantage point, but wanted more. I walked past where she sat and gave both soles a quick tickle, which didn't go down too well! Helen grimaced slightly, and didn't seem overly impressed. I got the impression that she wasn't ticklish, but got annoyed at someone tickling her feet.
Later on in the night (by now the wee small hours of the next day), I was sitting next to a still shoeless Helen talking about this and that. I can't recall how it happened, but I eventually wound up giving her a foot massage. I think I may have just offered, being in close proximity with her, and she accepted (alcohol and a Christmas atmosphere can have a great affect on people! ). I was chatting away to her as I did it, trying to remain as calm as possible. She's got quite big feet (just more to touch, right!!?), and I explored every inch, flexing her toes back and forth and working my thumbs along her insteps and caressing the heels and ball of each foot. There was no odour or anything of note about her feet, not much to wiggling or flexing, so I just continued to work the old Smash magic. She seemed to enjoy it, and I could feel her relaxing more, despite it drawing some funny looks from other people in the room.
The whole thing lasted about ten minutes or so, for as usual I didn't want to push my luck (her husband, my best friend's dad is a top guy, and we got on very well; I'd not like to be on the wrong side of him, though!). Interestingly, Helen would often refer to this instance time and time again, especially when introducing me to her friends...
'This is Smash, he massages my feet....' If only!
Saying that, I did get another go a few years later, for longer this time....but that's another story!
While I'm here, I'd like to recount my first ever nylon foot experience. It does contain tickling, but not necessarily as we like and appreciate it. However, it shows the 'power' that tickling can have. Happy new year, one and all, I hope you enjoy. Again, this is taken from the Mousepad foot fetish site, so is told primarily from that perspective.
I was 11 years old, and had been aware that I had a 'thing' for feet since I was about 4 or 5. I always got a funny feeling in my 'tummy' whenever I saw female stocking feet on TV or in real life. I didn't know what it was, but I knew it felt good. Staring and feeling that sensation were all I could do until a family holiday at my aunt's house. I wasn't bothered about going, until a few weeks before we were due to go my grandmother happened to say to my mother that my aunt (my father's sister) loved having her feet tickled and massaged.
I'd been paying no attention to the conversation beforehand, but hearing those words was like having a switch flicked in my head. Feet could be tickled, feet could be touched, some women liked having their feet tickled and touched, my aunt liked having her feet tickled and touched. I didn't know how I was going to do it, but this became my prime focus for the fortnight away. At the time, nearly 25 years ago, my aunt was in her early 40s, and is a blonde haired (well, was, she's gray now, but dyes her hair blonde), slim attractive woman, with a kind personality and, it turned out, seemed to be a demon shoeplayer. She'd normally wear white or tan tights with open toe slippers, or walk around the house in just her stocking feet. I'd sneak peeks whenever I could as my aunt would slip and dangle her stocking feet from her slippers under the table, or on one memorable occassion when she knelt on the kitchen floor to get something while talking to my parents. I made sure to stand behind her, taking in the magic view of her gorgeous white stocking soles as she remained kneeling on the floor.
To be honest, she was a bit of a stranger to me at the time, as I'd not seen her in about 5 or 6 years, and I wondered how I could transform the peeking at feet into playing with her feet. During the day the house would be full - me, my parents and younger sister, my aunt, uncle and teenage cousin - or I'd be out with my family or my aunt would be at work, so my experiences were reduced to peeking and imagining. However, one day my luck changed, and I had absolutely nothing to do with it. We were all together in the living room, the adults talking and my sister and I sitting on the floor. We were near my shoeless aunt, playing a game or another while the adults all talked about this and that. Suddenly, out of the corner of my right eye I saw a slight movement from my sister, and then my aunt. I looked closely, and saw my sister tickling the top and instep of my aunt's right stocking foot! My aunt offered no resistance to this, and so my sister continued. Did she know about my aunt's love of foot tickling, or was it just a co-incidence? I didn't know, but without thinking I joined in, and moved my fingers onto the material of her tights and softly, slowly began to tickle my aunt's feet.
I was lost in the moment; the material of her tights and her feet were both so soft, my fingers gliding over her smooth soles. The adults didn't think it was a big deal, but I was overjoyed. I acted natural and remained calm, and continued tickling for as long as I could. My aunt isn't ticklish at all, but enjoys having her feet tickled as it relaxes her. I switched to massaging, feeling her toes, insteps, soles, and heels at which point my aunt complimented and thanked my sister and me for treating her. I carried on for a couple of minutes more, my heart racing like crazy, not believing my aunt was letting me/us do this. It was every good a bit as I'd imagined, but it would get even better.
Towards the end of the holiday my parents would sometimes go out for the night for some time alone. This would then leave my sister and I alone with my aunt. My uncle would often be working late, my cousin would be in his bedroom upstairs with teenage angst, and so my aunt would be left in charge. My sister and I both had lots of energy as you do when you're a kid, and so my aunt would often play on the floor with us. She was never in her slippers, it seemed, only in white stocking feet. We were playing some game or another, me very conscious that my aunt's feet were on full display, when my aunt began to tickle my sister's side, saying she'd 'found a tickle spot'. My sister was giggling away, and so it seemed natural to tickle my aunt's feet. I moved round behind her and tickled her stocking soles, saying I'd found my aunt's tickle spot. Like I said, she's not ticklish but I think she was shocked at the sudden tickling sensation! I tickled just under her toes and along her soles, and as I did her tights creased up under my fingers, wrinkles appearing in the material around her toes and soles as I tickled. I didn't tickle my aunt for long, though, as I didn't want to get into any trouble, but she didn't seem to mind.
I remember feeling quite 'drunk' with excitement at all of this, and it seemed to be contagious. Due to my sister's position on the floor, she told my aunt, who was now standing, that she'd seen her knickers. Instead of feeling embarrassed or scolding my sister, my aunt proceeded to hoist her skirt quickly and flash us, showing red underwear hidden under white tights!! I was taken aback, but also slightly aroused at seeing legs encased in tights for the first time, I was fascinated with how they wrapped around her waist and thighs.
My aunt then said she needed to sit down as we'd worn her out, and settled back into the sofa. I then said we could carry on playing a game as she sat down, lifted her legs into the air and said 'Once upon a time there was an aunty who liked having her feet tickled!', and began to tickle and massage the soles of each foot as they remained in mid air. My aunt laughed and smiled, and then told me to turn around so I was sat in front of her, but facing away. I did so, and then felt the weight of each foot resting on my shoulders, insteps directly next to my face!
This was amazing, my aunt had no idea what she was doing to me, and although they were quite heavy on young shoulders, I left them there as my aunt commented on how comfy she was. I couldn't quite see her feet, but had my peripheral vision blocked by them. There was no smell or odour, but I could feel their warmth from the tickles they'd had. I then realised that I could reach back behind me and tickle her soles properly. I raised my hands and ran them over her feet, and felt my aunt relax and smile, happy with what I was doing. I did it for a few minutes, and then had an even better idea....
I asked my aunt to lift her feet off, and she initially refused, joking that I was her foot stool and she was comfy. I said I had another idea for a game, and that my aunt would like it. She eventually relented, and lifted her feet from my shoulders. I said that my sister and I were opening a beauty parlour, and that she could be our first customer. My aunt agreed, and I said that if she wanted, my sister would brush her hair (she'd taken to doing so during the holiday), and I would tickle and massage her feet.
Eager to please, my aunt went along with it, but before we started I said to make it authentic she should put her slippers back on, as if she was coming in from the street. My aunt obliged, placed her slippers back on her feet and went outside, carrying her handbag for good measure. Being the elder sibling by three years, my sister was happy to follow my lead, and I said we should gets lots of cushions to make sure my aunt was comfy. We got all the cushions and placed them in a pile on the floor, and then announced to my aunt that we were ready.
My aunt knocked on the door, we said 'Come in!', and she greeted us, saying she was here for her appointment. We ushered her in, and sat her down on the cushions. I had got into the role of the spokesman, and referred to her as 'madam' and myself as 'sir' throughout the whole event. I asked her 'what appointments madam had come in for', and she said that she was having her hair brushed and her feet massaged. I then said that my sister would be looking after madam's hair, and sir would be looking after madam's feet. My aunt seemed happy enough, and then I gave her options.
'Would madam like her feet massaged, stroked, rubbed or tickled?'
Either was good with me, but my aunt opted for tickling, as 'it was more relaxing'. Happy to oblige, I slowly removed her slippers, and began to tickle her soft soles, moving up to her toes and insteps and down to her heels. My aunt commented on my handiwork, saying my touch was 'just right'. As much as I was enjoying myself, though, I've always had a thing for black tights/stocking feet, and had only seen my aunt in white/tan tights throughout the whole holiday. Keeping in character, I said to my aunt 'Sir is getting fed up seeing the same colour tights every day, you should wear black tights insted!', to which my aunt laughed, but sadly didn't follow up on (she later told my mother about this a few days after, much to my embarrassment). I continued to tickle her white stocking feet for about ten minutes more, before my aunt suggested that my sister and I swap places and I brushed her hair. I went along with it so as to not look suspicious, but needless to say, I didn't enjoy this as much!
Shortly after it was time for bed, and I lay awake for ages thinking about what had transpired. I knew that my life would never be the same, I'd sampled what I'd thought about for so long, and it was even better than I imagined. I knew it would be 'my secret', and that I would treasure it always. I thought about how cool my aunt was, and if I'd be able to do it again (I would do, as can be seen on these pages). I wondered if she knew how much she'd done for me in the space of one night, unleashing my fetish for tickling and stocking feet and (not that I knew that was what it was at the time).
You know what, she may have known - the following night I was sat next to my aunt while we all sat in the dark and watched holiday slides on a projector (no Internet in the mid 80s!). My aunt had kicked off her slippers, so I was looking at her feet from the corner of my eye. I slowly slid my right foot over to her left in the darkness, until my right socked foot was faintly touching her left. I kept it there, until my aunt announced she was making drinks. She put her slippers back on and went to the kitchen. Disappointed, I remained in my seat, but was happy with the memories I had. My aunt soon came back with drinks, sat down next to me and kicked off her slippers once more. As she settled down in the seat she grazed my foot with hers...and kept it there! I moved in a bit closer, and my aunt shuffled around again until our feet were in direct contact! I didn't look at my aunt, nor she at me, but I like to think that she knew what I was up to and was happy to help a young foot lover on his way. She certainly did that...
Man, I've rambled on...hope you enjoyed reading, guys, hope it's not too long!
This is quite long, but took place in the space of a single night.
I was 23, and a university housemate of mine was having a surprise 21st birthday party. Myself and the rest of the house made the trek to her actual family home for a party. I'd met her parents and friends before throughout the course of the year, and was on good terms with them. The part initially took place in a local hall, before carrying on at my mate's house into the wee small hours. The front room was rammed, and the seats were on a first come, first served basis. I found myself sat on the floor (purely by circumstances), and realised I was surrounded by lots of female legs and feet. Many of the women had changed from heels to slippers for comfort, and I had to find a space on the floor rather than stand. I nestled in between two middle aged Irish women, one of whom was wearing navy blue moccassin slippers, white/grey tights and a grey trouser suit. Her left leg was crossed over her right, and her foot dangled some six inches from my face, exposing a smooth greyish white stocking instep.
I kept looking at it from the corner of my eye, her slipper jigging up and down, heel popping out until I could take no more. I'd been making conversation with the woman here and there, had a few drinks inside of me so figured it wouldn't be that out of line to play with her foot... As she spoke I reached up and slowly dragged my finger along her instep. Her foot inclined slightly, but she carried on talking. I repeated the motion, the material of her tights soft against my fingers, and her instep and heel also quite smooth. I'd say she was about a size six UK shoe. She wasn't attractive as such, but was quite tall, brown bobbed hair and brown eyes. She let me carry on for a while as my fingers found her stocking sole. I began to really tickle her foot, and she began laughing and squirming, her foot wiggling and flexing. She was trying to maintain her conversation, but kept punctuating it with things like 'There's someone here who likes tickling feet!'. I carried on for about twenty seconds more until she regained her composure, looked at me and said 'There's people looking, you should stop now...', which I did. Don't want to draw attention to myself now, do I? I later found out that this was my mate's aunt, and as some of you know, aunts' feet are my speciality...!
An hour or three and many beers after I'd tickled my friend's aunt's feet, I was standing in the hallway making conversation when a fairly drunk woman came up to me and rubbed her hands all over my chest. I think her hands were sticky (knowing my luck, so was my shirt!), but I was intrigued as to who she was as she was quite an attractive lady. Quite short, pleasantly plump, late 30s to early 40s I'd say, long brown hair and brown eyes, and was my friend's friend's mother. She was wearing a long white dress and white tights, shoes already gone. She went to sit in the front room, and began talking and playing with the family dog. The perfect excuse to take things further...at this point, I wasn't interested in her feet, but in seeing how far I could get!
I sat on the floor in front of her, pretending to take an interest in the dog but also talking to her, staring into her eyes intently at taking quick glances at her feet. As I was stroking the dog I said something like 'the dog's getting all the attention, you deserve some as well' which with hindsight implied I thought she was a dog! Regardless, I picked up one foot off the floor (UK size 6?), and began to gently massage and knead it. She didn't look overly comfortable, but seemed to enjoy the massage as her eyes were wide and mouth soft and pouty. I gave little tickles along the soles of her feet which made her smile and squeal, but focused mainly on the massage. I went for the other foot, when I became aware of another friend asking me to join him on the sofa. I ignored him, and continued with the massages and tickles.
His voice became more urgent and shouty, until I got fed up and asked him what he wanted. My initial thought was that he was jealous, and I was quite short with him when asking him what he was up to, until he responded 'If her husband sees you, he'll kill you....'
I very sheepishly then sat back in the chair, desperately trying to blend into the scenery when not two minutes later the husband walked in. He didn't look in my direction, thankfully; if anything, he seemed more pissed off that his wife was drunk. I only saw the back of him, but he looked like he could hurt people... . They both left, and I let out a sigh of relief. I went into the kitchen to get a drink, and saw the mother of my friend whose birthday it was washing glasses at the sink. A short, blond Irish woman (think a much younger version of the mother from Everyone Loves Raymond), she was beavering away, and seemed quite sober. We made small talk, and she mentioned her feet were killing her. I looked down, and underneath her long black dress I saw that she had kicked off her shoes and was in black stocking feet....
My friend's mother said her feet were sore, and I realised that she was shoeless. She'd been wearing standard black heels, which were now discarded as she stood at the sink in sheer black stocking feet. Well, we couldn't have her with sore feet now, could we?
I jokingly admonisher her for washing up when there was a party going on, and told her I had just the cure. I pulled two chairs over (now, bear in mind that I'd only met this woman once or twice previously!), made her sit down and sat opposite her. I then told her to place her feet in my lap, as I was going to massager her feet for her (alcohol plays a great part sometimes...!) She did so quite willingly, and I ran my fingers over her stocking soles, kneading and caressing here and there, flexing her toes back and forth. She had quite small feet, about a UK size four I'd say, and we made general conversation as her feet received a going over. I may have given her little tickles here and there, I honestly can't remember. The whole thing lasted about ten minutes, and was apparently caught on film!! Thankfully, the evidence was recorded over before it could be shown....phew!
What I do recall, however, was that later on in proceedings I was sat next to her on the sofa, along with another housemate. She made reference to the foot massage, and my housemate looked at me in disbelief. I shrugged it off, saying I was offering a helping hand! My friend's mum had her feet scooped up on the sofa next to her, and I gave her a little tickle. She squirmed a bit, and I then paid attention to the toe band on her tights. It was slightly crooked, and so I discreetly manouvered it so that it covered her toes properly. She wiggled her toes and smiled at me, so I quietly asked if the foot massage and tickles were okay. She nodded, and said that she would 'often take her shoes off, stretch her legs out and ask her husband to tickle her feet...!' WOW!!!
Interestingly, her daughter once said that when she was younger she could only sleep if she had her feet tickled beforehand...it must be genetic!
I hope you enjoyed, guys.
It was my best friend's wedding day, and everybody was dressed up smartly in their best attire. I was the best man, and so was on call throughout the day to ensure that everything ran smoothly. I arrived at my friend's house in my morning suit, to find that everybody else was still getting ready. I busied myself helping tidy up as everybody went to get changed, and wondered what outfit Helen would wear. You know how women always want to look good at weddings, eh? She came downstairs wearing narrow black suede heels, soft white tights, a black skirt and purple satin top, plus wedding hat. I had imagined her to be in open toe heels and bare legged, so this was a pleasant surprise for my stocking feet loving intentions. After all, she couldn't stay in the heels all day, could she...?
The wedding came and went, as did the speeches and the food/drink. Time went merrily on, and I'd not seen much of Helen throughout the night. Eventually the guests began to leave, my best friend and his new wife having departed for the honey moon. I was wandering around the house, and settled into an upstairs room (the house has about three levels, and people were dotted all over the place) where there seemed to be a bit of activity. Helen was there, and I noticed she was still in her heels. I sat down to chat to her (pure intentions, honest), and she eventually did the 'This is Smash, he massages my feet' bit to other people in the room (including my father, who looked bemused to say the least!).
At that point, some chaos involving a family member occurred downstairs, and people went to sort it out. I was in the room when Helen returned, and as there were no chairs available she sat on the floor, legs tucked in at the side. Her feet were obscured, so it wasn't until she stood up again that I noticed her shoes had been discarded. She wiggled her toes a bit, and then made another remark about the foot massages. I smiled, and after a brief pause, alcohol and hormones took over. Trying to remain calm, I looked at her and asked if she'd like her feet massaged. She smiled and said yes, sat in a newly vacated chair opposite me and placed her white stocking feet in my lap...
I went to work massaging her toes and insteps, very much aware of everyone else in the room but my mind was focused intently on pleasuring Helen's feet. Her feet are maybe a size six, and her tights made them incredibly soft. Maybe she'd had a pedicure for the wedding. Helen visibly sagged in the chair as I caressed her heels and soles, making conversation with people as I went to work. I was lost in 'the zone', her feet were all that mattered. As I massaged, I got a sudden urge to tickle Helen's feet as well. I wasn't sure if she was ticklish, but it was worth a shot. From a soft massage I went discreetly to tickling, holding Helen's feet by the toes of her tights so she couldn't get away! She laughed and squirmed, she WAS ticklish!! She asked me to stop through laughter, but never took her feet away! Once I'd stopped after a minute or so, she then asked me to carry on with the massage, which I was happy to do.
A few more minutes of massaging and I'd go back to tickling, sometimes gently, sometimes relentless, but it felt so good to have this gorgeous, feisty woman under my control! This lasted for another ten minutes before I thought it best to quit while I was ahead. Helen thanked me, and I also thanked her. I'm sure I could have seen her smiling when I thanked her...
As far as I know, my best friend isn't aware of it. It won't affect the friendship, but I hope that it remains only between myself and Helen.
great story sounds like it was a lot of fun.
The only time I ever witnessed my mom get tickled was one time when my dad, for unknown reasons, had ahold of her ankle while standing, with her on the floor and tickled the living daylights out of her foot. Now, my mom was 5' nothing and my dad was about 6'2 or 3, so he towered over her. And she was wicked ticklish, too. I was quite young compared to them since I was a foster child. But, anyway, her feet weren't the prettiest but they were very soft. She kept after them with lotion and the like and usually wore those knee-high stockings with slacks. Getting back to the tickling, my dad held her ankle fast and tickled one foot while she was laughing her fool head off. This went on for only a few minutes, but I just stood there dumbfounded and watched. When my dad stopped, she was mad at him but kinda just shrugged it off and he left and she went on about her business. I think I was around 10 or so at the time. I never had the guts to actually try to tickle her myself, but I'm sure it would have been fun.... at least until she laid down the law for doing it!