Q
qbtkler
Guest
I was replying to a post involving my most embarrassing tickling situation, which involve my step mom, and realized I was providing a number of real life tickling experiences I and a background to the actual reply. Since the thread was in the general tickling discussions sub forum, I decided move all of the background stuff here.
My parents divorced when I was a young kid and my dad eventually got remarried to my step mom. I must have been about five years old when they met so I’ve known her the majority of my life. She was in her late 40s/early 50s at the time. She was a very attractive woman: a petite Hispanic woman, brunette, and a lovely laugh. I never thought of her as “hot” or “sexy” in almost every aspect except one. I thought she had the most perfect feet ever. (Still feel embarrassed as I’m typing this ����*♂️). They were on the smaller side (about a 5 1/2 -6), the “Egyptian” toe-type (where the big toe is the tallest and the others became slightly shorter In descending order), and they were always maintained in pristine condition. She almost always was rocking a French manicure and her soles were soft as hell. In addition to everything described above, her feet were INSANELY ticklish. Capitalizing the word insanely does not do justice to how ticklish she was.
Now, I always knew I liked tickling but didn’t know the full extent of it as a young kid. I just knew I wanted to get my hands on her feet somehow. As I got in to my teen years, the opportunities would constantly present themselves whenever I would stay at my dad’s house. My dad and step mom would watch the evening news every night after work. My dad would sit in the love seat directly in front of the tv and my step mom would lay stretched out on the matching sofa to the left of the TV. She would still be in her work outfit: a blouse, work pants, tan stockings and black loafer-type shoes. I remember watching in anticipation as she would park herself on the sofa, gently kick off her shoes, and stretch her legs on to the sofa. Normally, I would wait a couple of minutes to come out and watch tv with them. My normal seat was on the couch where my step mom was. Every time I would join them, she would lift her legs up to let me sit down and park her feet on my lap. It fet like heaven on earth. I wouldn’t really do anything at first in fear of causing too much attention to myself. One day, her foot cramped up while we were on the couch and she asked me to massage it to make the cramp go away. The ultimate green light! After about a minute or so, the cramp went away and I stopped. She joked with me (in Spanish of course), saying I should have charged her for the terrific massage. I laughed it off (even though internally I was feeling awkward as hell) and told her I didn’t mind doing it, ask long as her feet didn’t smell. She seemed delighted and plopped her feet back on my lap. And so it began..
It almost became a routine. Everyone would get home. Her shoes would come off. I would eventually find my way to the couch. She would place her feet on my lap and I would begin giving her a massage. This routine eventually spread from an after-work only activity to weeknights, weekends, or just whenever I could get away with it. As a quick aside, I tried my best to not make this an “every time” occurrence since I didn’t want to get called out lol. I would occasionally sit next to my pops or sit in a chair nearby. But more often than not, this was what happened. It somewhat became our assigned seating in the house.
As time passed, my confidence grew. I began to mix in a gentle stroke to her soles or a light scratch to the bottom of her toes. I found that anything not involving massage-like pressure would cause an immediate reaction. Normally, the reaction was a shriek, followed by her pulling her feet out of my lap, and rubbing the bottom of the tickled foot with the top of the other. She would complain about how ticklish she was, but she always returned her feet back on my lap. I would wait a little bit, begin to massage her feet again, and surprise her with a tickle to her other foot. The whole scenario would repeat itself. There were a couple of times that the Ler in me came out. I once remember I found a random feather in the house and though it would be a great idea to test it out in her. I left the feather by the couch and picked it up later in the day, acting curious as to how it got there. I joked about using it on her feet if she didn’t change the channel to what I wanted to watch. She laughed off my comment and continued watching her show. I followed through with my threat but it didn’t give me the reaction I was looking for. (It was at that point that I realized feather tickling, at least in that scenario, was useless).
There was another time that we were at home on a Saturday night. Earlier that day, my dad had left on a business trip so it was just me and her. I was sitting on the couch watching tv, while she was showering after cleaning up around the house. She came out tp the living room and sat on the couch with me. (So you can see, I wasn’t always the one “initiating”, she would come and sit where I was too. I don’t say that in a way to suggest that she was in to it; merely pointing out the interactions were casual/organic and not forced in any way). Like clockwork, she lift her legs and placed them on my lap. She was wearing a pair of cotton slippers and kept them on when she placed her feet on my lap, which she did from time to time. As I explained the plot of whatever it was I was watching, I causally pulled the heel of her right slipper down and non-chalantly took off the slipper. The left slipper immediately followed. Those feet man. She would always apply this Shea butter lotion to her feet after showering, which would explain why they were always so soft. After my normal routine with her feet, I got a little brave and intensified the tickling. She jerked her feet away every time, yelling at me that her feet were too ticklish. At some point, I got up to go grab a glass of water. When I returned to the living room, she was laying on her stomach. I still don’t know what came over me at the moment but I couldn’t help myself. I noticed that she left her hair brush on the TV dinner stand next to the couch. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I walked over to the couch and immediately sat on her legs. She asked me to get up so she can turn around but I didn’t give her the time finish the sentence. I turned my back towards her and set my sites on her feet. It was like a bill seeing red. I began to take my nails up and down the soles of her tiny feet. She went ballistic, not expecting what was happening. I kept this up for a good 10 seconds, looking back to make sure she didn’t have a knife or something else to shank me. I stopped for a moment to let her catch her breath and saw the brush out of the corner of my eye. I grabbed it without her noticing and resumed my attack. My knees allowed me to keep her legs up in a hog-tie position, preventing her from straightening them out. I grabbed her left foot (the more ticklish of her feet) and began using the hair brush like a violinist would draw his/her bow across the strings. She was thrashing non-stop and yelling the phrase “POR FAVOR! NO ME HAGAS COSQUILLAS” at the top of her lungs. I was the equivalent of a feeding frenzy and I never wanted it to stop. Eventually, I felt I may want to ease a bit and she was able to break free. She was struggling to regain her composure and she started kicking me for what I had done. Even after all that, she still put placed her feet on my lap as if nothing had happened.
Growing up, I had several experiences just like the ones detailed above. While it was fun and exciting at the time, I feel somewhat strange looking back on it knowing how tickling plays a role in my sex life and coming to terms that my first “lee” was my step mom. It probably explains why I was not as open about the kink with my early relationships as I could have been.
With that said, I hope you guys enjoy my trip down memory lane.
My parents divorced when I was a young kid and my dad eventually got remarried to my step mom. I must have been about five years old when they met so I’ve known her the majority of my life. She was in her late 40s/early 50s at the time. She was a very attractive woman: a petite Hispanic woman, brunette, and a lovely laugh. I never thought of her as “hot” or “sexy” in almost every aspect except one. I thought she had the most perfect feet ever. (Still feel embarrassed as I’m typing this ����*♂️). They were on the smaller side (about a 5 1/2 -6), the “Egyptian” toe-type (where the big toe is the tallest and the others became slightly shorter In descending order), and they were always maintained in pristine condition. She almost always was rocking a French manicure and her soles were soft as hell. In addition to everything described above, her feet were INSANELY ticklish. Capitalizing the word insanely does not do justice to how ticklish she was.
Now, I always knew I liked tickling but didn’t know the full extent of it as a young kid. I just knew I wanted to get my hands on her feet somehow. As I got in to my teen years, the opportunities would constantly present themselves whenever I would stay at my dad’s house. My dad and step mom would watch the evening news every night after work. My dad would sit in the love seat directly in front of the tv and my step mom would lay stretched out on the matching sofa to the left of the TV. She would still be in her work outfit: a blouse, work pants, tan stockings and black loafer-type shoes. I remember watching in anticipation as she would park herself on the sofa, gently kick off her shoes, and stretch her legs on to the sofa. Normally, I would wait a couple of minutes to come out and watch tv with them. My normal seat was on the couch where my step mom was. Every time I would join them, she would lift her legs up to let me sit down and park her feet on my lap. It fet like heaven on earth. I wouldn’t really do anything at first in fear of causing too much attention to myself. One day, her foot cramped up while we were on the couch and she asked me to massage it to make the cramp go away. The ultimate green light! After about a minute or so, the cramp went away and I stopped. She joked with me (in Spanish of course), saying I should have charged her for the terrific massage. I laughed it off (even though internally I was feeling awkward as hell) and told her I didn’t mind doing it, ask long as her feet didn’t smell. She seemed delighted and plopped her feet back on my lap. And so it began..
It almost became a routine. Everyone would get home. Her shoes would come off. I would eventually find my way to the couch. She would place her feet on my lap and I would begin giving her a massage. This routine eventually spread from an after-work only activity to weeknights, weekends, or just whenever I could get away with it. As a quick aside, I tried my best to not make this an “every time” occurrence since I didn’t want to get called out lol. I would occasionally sit next to my pops or sit in a chair nearby. But more often than not, this was what happened. It somewhat became our assigned seating in the house.
As time passed, my confidence grew. I began to mix in a gentle stroke to her soles or a light scratch to the bottom of her toes. I found that anything not involving massage-like pressure would cause an immediate reaction. Normally, the reaction was a shriek, followed by her pulling her feet out of my lap, and rubbing the bottom of the tickled foot with the top of the other. She would complain about how ticklish she was, but she always returned her feet back on my lap. I would wait a little bit, begin to massage her feet again, and surprise her with a tickle to her other foot. The whole scenario would repeat itself. There were a couple of times that the Ler in me came out. I once remember I found a random feather in the house and though it would be a great idea to test it out in her. I left the feather by the couch and picked it up later in the day, acting curious as to how it got there. I joked about using it on her feet if she didn’t change the channel to what I wanted to watch. She laughed off my comment and continued watching her show. I followed through with my threat but it didn’t give me the reaction I was looking for. (It was at that point that I realized feather tickling, at least in that scenario, was useless).
There was another time that we were at home on a Saturday night. Earlier that day, my dad had left on a business trip so it was just me and her. I was sitting on the couch watching tv, while she was showering after cleaning up around the house. She came out tp the living room and sat on the couch with me. (So you can see, I wasn’t always the one “initiating”, she would come and sit where I was too. I don’t say that in a way to suggest that she was in to it; merely pointing out the interactions were casual/organic and not forced in any way). Like clockwork, she lift her legs and placed them on my lap. She was wearing a pair of cotton slippers and kept them on when she placed her feet on my lap, which she did from time to time. As I explained the plot of whatever it was I was watching, I causally pulled the heel of her right slipper down and non-chalantly took off the slipper. The left slipper immediately followed. Those feet man. She would always apply this Shea butter lotion to her feet after showering, which would explain why they were always so soft. After my normal routine with her feet, I got a little brave and intensified the tickling. She jerked her feet away every time, yelling at me that her feet were too ticklish. At some point, I got up to go grab a glass of water. When I returned to the living room, she was laying on her stomach. I still don’t know what came over me at the moment but I couldn’t help myself. I noticed that she left her hair brush on the TV dinner stand next to the couch. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I walked over to the couch and immediately sat on her legs. She asked me to get up so she can turn around but I didn’t give her the time finish the sentence. I turned my back towards her and set my sites on her feet. It was like a bill seeing red. I began to take my nails up and down the soles of her tiny feet. She went ballistic, not expecting what was happening. I kept this up for a good 10 seconds, looking back to make sure she didn’t have a knife or something else to shank me. I stopped for a moment to let her catch her breath and saw the brush out of the corner of my eye. I grabbed it without her noticing and resumed my attack. My knees allowed me to keep her legs up in a hog-tie position, preventing her from straightening them out. I grabbed her left foot (the more ticklish of her feet) and began using the hair brush like a violinist would draw his/her bow across the strings. She was thrashing non-stop and yelling the phrase “POR FAVOR! NO ME HAGAS COSQUILLAS” at the top of her lungs. I was the equivalent of a feeding frenzy and I never wanted it to stop. Eventually, I felt I may want to ease a bit and she was able to break free. She was struggling to regain her composure and she started kicking me for what I had done. Even after all that, she still put placed her feet on my lap as if nothing had happened.
Growing up, I had several experiences just like the ones detailed above. While it was fun and exciting at the time, I feel somewhat strange looking back on it knowing how tickling plays a role in my sex life and coming to terms that my first “lee” was my step mom. It probably explains why I was not as open about the kink with my early relationships as I could have been.
With that said, I hope you guys enjoy my trip down memory lane.
Thanks for sharing your experiences here. 
