MeShellMaBelle
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- Joined
- Nov 11, 2016
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I need to process what happened the other night.
I hope he doesn’t go on this part of the forum. But there’s a good chance I’ll never see him again, and like I said: I need to process.
Keep in mind, I’m not really a shy person. I can be shy, but when people know me they always say, “You? Shy? Get over yourself.” But when it comes to tickling and this sort of stuff, “shy” doesn’t even begin to describe me. I’ve been fascinated by tickling my whole life. I love to be tickled. But I’d never ask for it. I’m ashamed of it, quite frankly. I’ve told past romantic partners that I like to be tickled (usually after a few drinks) and it never really goes well. One made it painful and something to be dreaded even. The rest just didn’t use the knowledge (such a gem of knowledge!) at all and nothing came of it. I was rarely tickled. I tickle when I flirt, so I was always the one provoking, hoping for retaliation, but it never came. I thought about meeting up with someone online to explore this side of me, but I never had the guts to through with it. Honestly I had kind of given up with this aspect of my sexuality. I figured it would always be something that I just secretly was ashamed of and kept to myself.
Enough back story. You get the idea. I never thought I’d incorporate tickling into my life.
Expect the unexpected, folks.
Oh Tinder. Trusty Tinder. I don’t even know how many Tinder dates I’ve gone on at this point, and I really don’t have high hopes for it. But it keeps me busy on the weekends and I’ve met some colorful characters.
Last night I matched with a cutie. He was a bit younger than I’d like, but eh. One photo. No bio. I didn’t have high hopes for this dude.
I shot him a generic “Hello”.
Surprisingly he answered. We had a nice back and forth. Nothing too exciting. He asked a lot of questions, which isn’t normal for guys. Normally I feel like I’m the one asking questions for the sake of keeping the forsaken conversation alive for a few minutes. But he was inquisitive.
Then, “Ask you something random?”
I assumed the worst. This was the end of the conversation. “Yeah of course.” I’m signing my death certificate here, people.
“Bottoms of your feet, are you ticklish?”
I dropped my phone. The “T” word. Obviously the guy likes feet. But it wasn’t just about my feet. He used the “T” word.
I reacted. Probably too bluntly. Asked if he had a fetish. He backpedaled and I felt bad. I decided to come clean. To a complete (and extremely cute) stranger, I told him I was very ticklish, not just my feet. In fact, I liked to be tickled.
The moment of truth. I think I counted my breaths until he responded. A positive response! And suddenly we were texting.
We talked about how we discovered our interest in tickling. Exchanged a few photos of silly faces and feet. Mentioned TMF! (I’ll be mortified if he ever finds this...)
It was a Saturday night at around 10pm. I wasn’t doing anything, and it was like he read my mind. What was I doing? Did I want to meet up?
Now, I’m not stupid. I know what meeting up on a Saturday night at 10pm entails. I wasn’t looking for meaningless sex (Yes, I know I was on Tinder, bear with me) but I wasn’t looking for trouble. Could we meet in public? I didn’t want to drink. There’s a 24 Hour Starbucks near where I live.
Suddenly I was out of my PJs and in my car.
Now, I’m a twenty something. I’ve done stupid things before, but this was a new record. I had no idea what I was expecting and I just kept telling myself that I REALLY could use a Peppermint Hot Chocolate tonight.
I got there first and ordered my drink. Made small talk with the barista. I used to work at that store, I knew it inside and out. What had changed? Suddenly I recognized him out of the corner of my eye. Damn he had a nice smile. Reverse gender roles and I got him his drink for him. I like to throw guys off of their balance when I first meet them. Makes it more interesting.
We sat outside talking where we could have privacy. The café was closing for the night, so we didn’t have much of a choice. We talked about everything. I couldn’t believe how well the conversation was flowing. Politics, movies, religion, families, mental health, traveling, books. We talked for hours without even mentioning tickling. What was I even doing?
Then suddenly I brought up the dreaded subject. I don’t know what possessed me. He looked at my feet under the table. I was wearing floral flats. My toe must have been sticking out because he made a comment.
He asked me if I wanted a foot massage.
Fuck it. I let him. After midnight in front of an empty Starbucks I let this guy I barely knew give me a foot massage. He barely tickled me, I could tell he was trying to maintain respect. He knew what he was doing. It felt really nice. Warmed up my feet, too.
We kept talking for a while. I was cold, though. He was cold, I could tell. We both wanted to continue talking. I suggested sitting in his car. What was I thinking?
So we moved to the car. Heated seats? Hell yes.
We sat talking for a bit longer. Talked about love languages and how people show affection. Talked about respect in relationships and how important communication is.
“Well, right now I’d like to communicate that I’d really like to kiss you, but I’m trying to respect your boundaries.”
Well, fuck. Now I really wanted to kiss him.
So I did. Carpe diem. Can sparks fly from a kiss?
Then I started doing what I do. My hands started wandering. I already said tickling is how I flirt. I don’t remember who tickled first but it started happening.
We were still sitting in the car so there was limited what we could do, but tummy and underarms were totally fair game and those are my worst spots that I knew of. Imagine how much more intense this would be if we weren’t in a car. I hadn’t been tickled in years and never for long. Never by someone who actually knew what they were doing and enjoyed it.
Kissing and tickling. My slice of heaven. That continued for a while, I have no idea how long.
He asked about my feet. I never knew my feet to be too ticklish, but I knew he liked feet so I figured “What the hell”. I pivoted in my seat and placed my bare feet in his lap.
Boy, was he in his element. Did anyone know the sides of their feet could be ticklish? I didn’t know my toes were ticklish. Or the tops of my feet. Or anything. And then he put my toes in his mouth and I can’t even describe the feeling. My head was spinning. He started raking my soles in opposite directions at once. I didn’t know I could laugh like that.
My feet were on his lap and I could feel the bulge in his pants. So naturally I rubbed my feet against him. That definitely got a reaction.
Kissing and tickling with a hot stranger that I had connected with intellectually. I didn’t even realize that was on my bucket list.
I hope he doesn’t go on this part of the forum. But there’s a good chance I’ll never see him again, and like I said: I need to process.
Keep in mind, I’m not really a shy person. I can be shy, but when people know me they always say, “You? Shy? Get over yourself.” But when it comes to tickling and this sort of stuff, “shy” doesn’t even begin to describe me. I’ve been fascinated by tickling my whole life. I love to be tickled. But I’d never ask for it. I’m ashamed of it, quite frankly. I’ve told past romantic partners that I like to be tickled (usually after a few drinks) and it never really goes well. One made it painful and something to be dreaded even. The rest just didn’t use the knowledge (such a gem of knowledge!) at all and nothing came of it. I was rarely tickled. I tickle when I flirt, so I was always the one provoking, hoping for retaliation, but it never came. I thought about meeting up with someone online to explore this side of me, but I never had the guts to through with it. Honestly I had kind of given up with this aspect of my sexuality. I figured it would always be something that I just secretly was ashamed of and kept to myself.
Enough back story. You get the idea. I never thought I’d incorporate tickling into my life.
Expect the unexpected, folks.
Oh Tinder. Trusty Tinder. I don’t even know how many Tinder dates I’ve gone on at this point, and I really don’t have high hopes for it. But it keeps me busy on the weekends and I’ve met some colorful characters.
Last night I matched with a cutie. He was a bit younger than I’d like, but eh. One photo. No bio. I didn’t have high hopes for this dude.
I shot him a generic “Hello”.
Surprisingly he answered. We had a nice back and forth. Nothing too exciting. He asked a lot of questions, which isn’t normal for guys. Normally I feel like I’m the one asking questions for the sake of keeping the forsaken conversation alive for a few minutes. But he was inquisitive.
Then, “Ask you something random?”
I assumed the worst. This was the end of the conversation. “Yeah of course.” I’m signing my death certificate here, people.
“Bottoms of your feet, are you ticklish?”
I dropped my phone. The “T” word. Obviously the guy likes feet. But it wasn’t just about my feet. He used the “T” word.
I reacted. Probably too bluntly. Asked if he had a fetish. He backpedaled and I felt bad. I decided to come clean. To a complete (and extremely cute) stranger, I told him I was very ticklish, not just my feet. In fact, I liked to be tickled.
The moment of truth. I think I counted my breaths until he responded. A positive response! And suddenly we were texting.
We talked about how we discovered our interest in tickling. Exchanged a few photos of silly faces and feet. Mentioned TMF! (I’ll be mortified if he ever finds this...)
It was a Saturday night at around 10pm. I wasn’t doing anything, and it was like he read my mind. What was I doing? Did I want to meet up?
Now, I’m not stupid. I know what meeting up on a Saturday night at 10pm entails. I wasn’t looking for meaningless sex (Yes, I know I was on Tinder, bear with me) but I wasn’t looking for trouble. Could we meet in public? I didn’t want to drink. There’s a 24 Hour Starbucks near where I live.
Suddenly I was out of my PJs and in my car.
Now, I’m a twenty something. I’ve done stupid things before, but this was a new record. I had no idea what I was expecting and I just kept telling myself that I REALLY could use a Peppermint Hot Chocolate tonight.
I got there first and ordered my drink. Made small talk with the barista. I used to work at that store, I knew it inside and out. What had changed? Suddenly I recognized him out of the corner of my eye. Damn he had a nice smile. Reverse gender roles and I got him his drink for him. I like to throw guys off of their balance when I first meet them. Makes it more interesting.
We sat outside talking where we could have privacy. The café was closing for the night, so we didn’t have much of a choice. We talked about everything. I couldn’t believe how well the conversation was flowing. Politics, movies, religion, families, mental health, traveling, books. We talked for hours without even mentioning tickling. What was I even doing?
Then suddenly I brought up the dreaded subject. I don’t know what possessed me. He looked at my feet under the table. I was wearing floral flats. My toe must have been sticking out because he made a comment.
He asked me if I wanted a foot massage.
Fuck it. I let him. After midnight in front of an empty Starbucks I let this guy I barely knew give me a foot massage. He barely tickled me, I could tell he was trying to maintain respect. He knew what he was doing. It felt really nice. Warmed up my feet, too.
We kept talking for a while. I was cold, though. He was cold, I could tell. We both wanted to continue talking. I suggested sitting in his car. What was I thinking?
So we moved to the car. Heated seats? Hell yes.
We sat talking for a bit longer. Talked about love languages and how people show affection. Talked about respect in relationships and how important communication is.
“Well, right now I’d like to communicate that I’d really like to kiss you, but I’m trying to respect your boundaries.”
Well, fuck. Now I really wanted to kiss him.
So I did. Carpe diem. Can sparks fly from a kiss?
Then I started doing what I do. My hands started wandering. I already said tickling is how I flirt. I don’t remember who tickled first but it started happening.
We were still sitting in the car so there was limited what we could do, but tummy and underarms were totally fair game and those are my worst spots that I knew of. Imagine how much more intense this would be if we weren’t in a car. I hadn’t been tickled in years and never for long. Never by someone who actually knew what they were doing and enjoyed it.
Kissing and tickling. My slice of heaven. That continued for a while, I have no idea how long.
He asked about my feet. I never knew my feet to be too ticklish, but I knew he liked feet so I figured “What the hell”. I pivoted in my seat and placed my bare feet in his lap.
Boy, was he in his element. Did anyone know the sides of their feet could be ticklish? I didn’t know my toes were ticklish. Or the tops of my feet. Or anything. And then he put my toes in his mouth and I can’t even describe the feeling. My head was spinning. He started raking my soles in opposite directions at once. I didn’t know I could laugh like that.
My feet were on his lap and I could feel the bulge in his pants. So naturally I rubbed my feet against him. That definitely got a reaction.
Kissing and tickling with a hot stranger that I had connected with intellectually. I didn’t even realize that was on my bucket list.
I hope that you will see each other again. 
