dumbledore
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2003
- Messages
- 226
- Points
- 16
Amelia is twenty-something, was born in France, but grew up in England and has a well-spoken British accent. When she switches to French, all that sultry sexiness is there. She's 5' 5", slim, with long wavy blonde hair and intensely pretty blue eyes. She looks like Rachel McAdams, with a little Kristin Kreuk thrown in. She works part-time in a museum while studying History of Art.
In all the time I’ve been charting her ticklishness, there has been one question that I’ve not been able to answer: how would she react if I could tickle both her feet at the same time?
It’s hard to get near her feet, because she knows how ticklish they are and the thought of it alone is enough to send her scrambling away in fear. If we’re playfighting and I go for them, she escapes and runs off. But at New Year’s, I finally got a chance to put the question to the test.
I was due a bit of revenge. She’d playfully tickled me a few times recently without any retaliation – once even waking me up by sitting on my ankle and getting my foot because “it was too tempting seeing it poking out like that.”
So – knowing that her feet were off-the-charts ticklish, I decided that at the next opportunity, I would take the experiment to the next level.
On New Year’s Eve, we went for some drinks. It always turns me on when Amelia gets her feet out, and it was no different then. As she got ready, slipping into skinny jeans and a blue sleeveless top, she tried on different shoes, and I got a glimpse of her pale feet as she tried on each pair.
She finished off her outfit with a pair of wedges, and I don’t mind saying she looked hot. As we left the flat and got the train into town, I kept glancing down at the exposed tops of her feet, wondering what it would be like to tickle them. It would be hard to get them both at the same time, that much I was certain of.
We met up with friends and wound our way through a few bars, then headed over to see the fireworks by the river as midnight ticked closer. The explosions were huge – dozens of different colours, hanging in the air at once. You could smell the gunpowder.
When the display finished, we said our goodbyes and walked to the hotel we’d booked, a few minutes’ down the road. It was here that I’d get my chance.
The following morning, we ordered coffee to the room, and sat in bed reading. We dressed, and packed our bags, so that we were ready to leave before the checkout time came, but then it started to rain, so we lounged a little longer. Amelia was dressed in skinny jeans again, but wore her trademark black pumps now. She kicked them off, and settled back on the bed barefoot.
“Wake me up if I fall asleep,” she said.
She lay back, reading. I couldn’t take my eyes off her feet. They were right there, so soft and smooth, so creamy white. She played with them subconsciously while she read, spreading her toes, flexing her arches. It was mesmerizing. I managed to record some of it:
Password: Amelia
https://vimeo.com/116763579
After a while, I realized her feet had stopped dancing. They rested on the bed, one beside the other, her heels highlighted by the lamp above us. Sensing an opportunity, I inched ever so slowly down the bed. I sat up, hoping I hadn’t woken her. A quick glance assured me that I hadn’t. She was asleep on her side, hugging the pillow.
As I watched, she rolled over in her sleep. I glanced back at her feet, and couldn’t believe my eyes. Her feet now rested soles up, her left slightly on top of the right, wrinkling slightly under the light. I’d never seen her feet like this before. I’d imagined it, dreamed of them restrained with my fingers approaching, but never seen it. It’s one thing picturing them prone, but quite another seeing them in the exact position they would be in if she was tied up:
Password: Amelia
https://vimeo.com/119742358
Slowly, ever so slowly, I moved closer to them. I wasn’t going to get a better opportunity than this. And anyway, hadn’t she asked me to wake her up? I could do exactly as she asked, and get a bit of playful revenge in one fell swoop.
As carefully as I could, I climbed over her legs, and knelt above them. I glanced back to make sure she was still asleep, then settled above her ankles, not putting my weight on them completely, but securing them in place. She didn’t stir.
Both her hyper-sensitive soles were in my grasp. But now that I had them, I didn’t know what to do next. Should I play with them a bit? Dive right in to some proper tickling? I held my breath, and reached out with my index finger. I held it above her right foot – the one on the bottom – and lightly stroked her soft sole.
Sleepily, with the toes of her left foot, she scratched the sole of her right. Now I stoked my finger across her left foot, down the arch and around the heel. Her foot twitched, and I heard rustling behind me.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“Sorry,” I said. “It was just too tempting.”
Without any more hesitation, I dug in. My scribbling fingers hit home on those soft, wrinkled soles, both of them at the same time, both of them together, both of them pinned down beneath me.
“Noooo!” she cried. “What are you do—AHHH! ”
Her toes wriggled and flexed, her feet arching and clenching as she tried to get away, but there was nowhere for them to go. My fingers slid effortlessly over the soft, sensitive skin.
“AHHH! Nooo—haaaah!”
“AHHHHH!”
“STOOOOP!”
But I wasn’t going to stop – not just yet. Time stood still, frozen in the scintillating heat of the moment as I tickled her defenseless feet. I scrabbled my nails down the middle of her soles and flicked them over her arches. I made claws by pinching all four fingers together with my thumbs and scrubbed them up and down her pale skin.
That’s when the laughter burst out of her. “Aaaaahh Ha Ha Haaaaah!” she wailed. “Ahhhh Ha Ha Ha Ha Haaaaahhh! Naaahh Ha Ha Haaah! Stop Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! What-are-you-doing-Ha Ha Haaaaah!”
I used both hands on her left foot, and the right desperately tried to cover it. I switched to her right, and he left swatted blindly at my tickling fingers. Then I went back to tickling both together, attacking her super-sensitive arches again, and up to the balls of her feet, probing between her flexing toes.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” she screamed. “Ahhhhhhh haaaaah!”
“Ahhh Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Haaaaah!”
With my fingers rigid now, held together as if saluting, I rapidly ran my fingertips left and right across her toes, and I was rewarded with a high-pitched wail. Then I made bear claws with both hands and zig-zagged my fingertips across her soles, going up and down in a ‘Z’ shape in hard, rapid motions. Amelia exploded in unrelenting laughter.
“Ahahahahahahahahaha!”
“Ahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaah!”
“Fuck!” she whimpered. “Fuck—Ha Haaah!” And then her voice muffled as she collapsed into the pillow in hysteria. “Ahahahahahahahaha!”
I stopped at that point, even though I craved more. Because I knew any defense she had was broken. The tickling couldn’t have lasted longer than about twenty seconds, but any more and she would be completely wrecked.
Both her feet at the same time? TICKLISH BEYOND COMPARE. Anything longer than that will have to stay in the realm of fantasy, because it utterly destroys her.
I moved off her ankles as she lay panting on the pillow, and grinned mischievously. She rolled over, rubbing her feet on the cover to try and get rid of the lingering ticklish feeling.
“You’re so going to get it,” she said.
We’ll see.
In all the time I’ve been charting her ticklishness, there has been one question that I’ve not been able to answer: how would she react if I could tickle both her feet at the same time?
It’s hard to get near her feet, because she knows how ticklish they are and the thought of it alone is enough to send her scrambling away in fear. If we’re playfighting and I go for them, she escapes and runs off. But at New Year’s, I finally got a chance to put the question to the test.
I was due a bit of revenge. She’d playfully tickled me a few times recently without any retaliation – once even waking me up by sitting on my ankle and getting my foot because “it was too tempting seeing it poking out like that.”
So – knowing that her feet were off-the-charts ticklish, I decided that at the next opportunity, I would take the experiment to the next level.
On New Year’s Eve, we went for some drinks. It always turns me on when Amelia gets her feet out, and it was no different then. As she got ready, slipping into skinny jeans and a blue sleeveless top, she tried on different shoes, and I got a glimpse of her pale feet as she tried on each pair.
She finished off her outfit with a pair of wedges, and I don’t mind saying she looked hot. As we left the flat and got the train into town, I kept glancing down at the exposed tops of her feet, wondering what it would be like to tickle them. It would be hard to get them both at the same time, that much I was certain of.
We met up with friends and wound our way through a few bars, then headed over to see the fireworks by the river as midnight ticked closer. The explosions were huge – dozens of different colours, hanging in the air at once. You could smell the gunpowder.
When the display finished, we said our goodbyes and walked to the hotel we’d booked, a few minutes’ down the road. It was here that I’d get my chance.
The following morning, we ordered coffee to the room, and sat in bed reading. We dressed, and packed our bags, so that we were ready to leave before the checkout time came, but then it started to rain, so we lounged a little longer. Amelia was dressed in skinny jeans again, but wore her trademark black pumps now. She kicked them off, and settled back on the bed barefoot.
“Wake me up if I fall asleep,” she said.
She lay back, reading. I couldn’t take my eyes off her feet. They were right there, so soft and smooth, so creamy white. She played with them subconsciously while she read, spreading her toes, flexing her arches. It was mesmerizing. I managed to record some of it:
Password: Amelia
https://vimeo.com/116763579
After a while, I realized her feet had stopped dancing. They rested on the bed, one beside the other, her heels highlighted by the lamp above us. Sensing an opportunity, I inched ever so slowly down the bed. I sat up, hoping I hadn’t woken her. A quick glance assured me that I hadn’t. She was asleep on her side, hugging the pillow.
As I watched, she rolled over in her sleep. I glanced back at her feet, and couldn’t believe my eyes. Her feet now rested soles up, her left slightly on top of the right, wrinkling slightly under the light. I’d never seen her feet like this before. I’d imagined it, dreamed of them restrained with my fingers approaching, but never seen it. It’s one thing picturing them prone, but quite another seeing them in the exact position they would be in if she was tied up:
Password: Amelia
https://vimeo.com/119742358
Slowly, ever so slowly, I moved closer to them. I wasn’t going to get a better opportunity than this. And anyway, hadn’t she asked me to wake her up? I could do exactly as she asked, and get a bit of playful revenge in one fell swoop.
As carefully as I could, I climbed over her legs, and knelt above them. I glanced back to make sure she was still asleep, then settled above her ankles, not putting my weight on them completely, but securing them in place. She didn’t stir.
Both her hyper-sensitive soles were in my grasp. But now that I had them, I didn’t know what to do next. Should I play with them a bit? Dive right in to some proper tickling? I held my breath, and reached out with my index finger. I held it above her right foot – the one on the bottom – and lightly stroked her soft sole.
Sleepily, with the toes of her left foot, she scratched the sole of her right. Now I stoked my finger across her left foot, down the arch and around the heel. Her foot twitched, and I heard rustling behind me.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“Sorry,” I said. “It was just too tempting.”
Without any more hesitation, I dug in. My scribbling fingers hit home on those soft, wrinkled soles, both of them at the same time, both of them together, both of them pinned down beneath me.
“Noooo!” she cried. “What are you do—AHHH! ”
Her toes wriggled and flexed, her feet arching and clenching as she tried to get away, but there was nowhere for them to go. My fingers slid effortlessly over the soft, sensitive skin.
“AHHH! Nooo—haaaah!”
“AHHHHH!”
“STOOOOP!”
But I wasn’t going to stop – not just yet. Time stood still, frozen in the scintillating heat of the moment as I tickled her defenseless feet. I scrabbled my nails down the middle of her soles and flicked them over her arches. I made claws by pinching all four fingers together with my thumbs and scrubbed them up and down her pale skin.
That’s when the laughter burst out of her. “Aaaaahh Ha Ha Haaaaah!” she wailed. “Ahhhh Ha Ha Ha Ha Haaaaahhh! Naaahh Ha Ha Haaah! Stop Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! What-are-you-doing-Ha Ha Haaaaah!”
I used both hands on her left foot, and the right desperately tried to cover it. I switched to her right, and he left swatted blindly at my tickling fingers. Then I went back to tickling both together, attacking her super-sensitive arches again, and up to the balls of her feet, probing between her flexing toes.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” she screamed. “Ahhhhhhh haaaaah!”
“Ahhh Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Haaaaah!”
With my fingers rigid now, held together as if saluting, I rapidly ran my fingertips left and right across her toes, and I was rewarded with a high-pitched wail. Then I made bear claws with both hands and zig-zagged my fingertips across her soles, going up and down in a ‘Z’ shape in hard, rapid motions. Amelia exploded in unrelenting laughter.
“Ahahahahahahahahaha!”
“Ahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaah!”
“Fuck!” she whimpered. “Fuck—Ha Haaah!” And then her voice muffled as she collapsed into the pillow in hysteria. “Ahahahahahahahaha!”
I stopped at that point, even though I craved more. Because I knew any defense she had was broken. The tickling couldn’t have lasted longer than about twenty seconds, but any more and she would be completely wrecked.
Both her feet at the same time? TICKLISH BEYOND COMPARE. Anything longer than that will have to stay in the realm of fantasy, because it utterly destroys her.
I moved off her ankles as she lay panting on the pillow, and grinned mischievously. She rolled over, rubbing her feet on the cover to try and get rid of the lingering ticklish feeling.
“You’re so going to get it,” she said.
We’ll see.
Thanks for sharing them here. 
