meridian111
Registered User
- Joined
- Oct 6, 2003
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Very quick tickle, but it will stick with me. My wife, kids and I recently got together with a bunch of other friends and family at a neighbor’s lake house. As the evening wore on, our next door neighbors started shooting off some low-grade fireworks, celebrating their son’s graduation. About ten of us decided to sit on the lawn, which sloped down towards the lake, sort of like an amphitheater. My wife sat next to me while several people sat below us. The air was a little cool, but still mid-60’s, and my wife, who's always cold, complained about being cold even though she was the only one of us with a fleece and jeans. But she also had on flip flops (pale pink nail polish).
One of the guys sitting below us was with his wife and a few friends. He had gone to school with my wife, and apparently had a bit of a crush on her throughout high school. Anyhow, he picked up on the fact that although she was complaining about being cold she also wore flip flops, which exposed her well-shaped and slightly chubby feet.
He leaned over and exclaimed to my wife, ‘it is a little chilly. How is it that your feet aren’t cold?’. ‘ I don’t know’, retorted my wife. ‘They really aren’t though’, she smiled as if suddenly realizing that they weren’t cold and was mildly proud of this fact.
She raised her foot in the air, flexing it a bit and twisting her ankle in a circle. He gingerly grabbed her ankle and put his hand on the top of her foot. ‘Wow, you’re right. Not cold at all.’ Then he knocked off the flip flop, and kind of cradled her bare foot in the palm of his hand, supporting it by the heel. Surprisingly, she didn’t jerk her foot away, and instead smiled naïvely as if she really had no idea what was about to occur. He raised her foot up to his face level and secured his grip a little better, still holding it relatively loosely in front of him. Then, of course, he began stroking the bottom of her foot slowly until she yelped and tried to jerk her foot away. ‘Aha, I remember that you’re ticklish?’ And at that, he started laughing and taunting ‘Gitchy goo, tickle tickle tickle’. My wife screamed softly and tried to roll, to no avail, as he tightened his grip by sticking her helpless foot under his arm. With his free hand he began to tickle with full abandon. By this time, my wife had rolled onto her belly, laughing a silent laugh, as he scribbled his thick fingers all over her foot. Sporadically she got out enough breath to plead with him to stop, and after about 15-20 seconds he obliged.
Everyone smiled, his wife elbowed him and shook her head, and we went back to watching the fireworks.
One of the guys sitting below us was with his wife and a few friends. He had gone to school with my wife, and apparently had a bit of a crush on her throughout high school. Anyhow, he picked up on the fact that although she was complaining about being cold she also wore flip flops, which exposed her well-shaped and slightly chubby feet.
He leaned over and exclaimed to my wife, ‘it is a little chilly. How is it that your feet aren’t cold?’. ‘ I don’t know’, retorted my wife. ‘They really aren’t though’, she smiled as if suddenly realizing that they weren’t cold and was mildly proud of this fact.
She raised her foot in the air, flexing it a bit and twisting her ankle in a circle. He gingerly grabbed her ankle and put his hand on the top of her foot. ‘Wow, you’re right. Not cold at all.’ Then he knocked off the flip flop, and kind of cradled her bare foot in the palm of his hand, supporting it by the heel. Surprisingly, she didn’t jerk her foot away, and instead smiled naïvely as if she really had no idea what was about to occur. He raised her foot up to his face level and secured his grip a little better, still holding it relatively loosely in front of him. Then, of course, he began stroking the bottom of her foot slowly until she yelped and tried to jerk her foot away. ‘Aha, I remember that you’re ticklish?’ And at that, he started laughing and taunting ‘Gitchy goo, tickle tickle tickle’. My wife screamed softly and tried to roll, to no avail, as he tightened his grip by sticking her helpless foot under his arm. With his free hand he began to tickle with full abandon. By this time, my wife had rolled onto her belly, laughing a silent laugh, as he scribbled his thick fingers all over her foot. Sporadically she got out enough breath to plead with him to stop, and after about 15-20 seconds he obliged.
Everyone smiled, his wife elbowed him and shook her head, and we went back to watching the fireworks.
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Maybe getting others to join in! 
Thanks for sharing the experience here. 
