Saved by the Bell (True story) M/M

orangeman1 said:

Every Thursday evening my Wife Susan would attend a dance class at the local community hall, I'd drive her there, drop her off and then call into the local pub and have several beers while waiting for her to finish her class before meeting up later in the pub, she'd normally call in with a few of the Women from her class and have a glass or two of wine.

I worked afternoons regular (2-10) so I'd leave my car in the pub car park and Sue would give me a lift to pick it up the following day, usually late morning.
We would normally order a taxi before last orders, except in the summer months when we'd occasionally walk the 15-20 minute trek home.

Sue's very aware of my tickle passion but rarely indulges in my 'odd' (as she calls it) passion, except when she's tipsy or drunk, then she loves to tease me about by fetish, but never (until that night) in public.

Now Sue has a friend called Val who also goes to the dance classes, but she's less enthusiastic than Sue and would very often fail to turn up.

Val's Husband always drinks in the pub and usually sits with another guy at a table in the far corner.
I've tried on more than one occasion to befriend Clive but for whatever reason this sullen, moody, miserable Man has always shunned my approach, so we now sit waiting for our Wives at opposite ends of the narrow pub and return icy stares and glances.

The 'situation' with Clive has definitively put a damper on what could be a great end to the evening, and both Women tried to make light of the issue and have tried everything to get us to talk, but he didn't like me and I had no time for him, so it was awkward to say the least.

I've often put Clive's attitude down to jealousy, we're of a similar age but where as i'm tall and buffed, he's small and skinny.
I've always worked out, never smoked, taken pride in my appearance and still have a decent head of hair.
Clive is a chain smoker, quite hunched in his appearance, his bald head sports short grey flashes on the sides and his nicotine stained fingers shake slightly when lighting a rolled cigarette.
He's definitely got some inferiority complex going on, a real chip on his shoulder and when I do return his stare, he's the one that always looks away first.


Why the hell his Wife has put up with this unsociable creep is beyond me but put up she has and we have to accept it.

However the situation changed one Thursday evening when I bumped into an old mate that I hadn't seen for years, we laughed and reminisced over old times and the beer flowed far too quickly, until after about four or five he reluctantly had to leave.
All the time, sullen miserable Clive stared bitterly as we laughed and joked, sat supping his pint, rolling a cigarette and peeling the paper off a damp beer mat.

I hadn't realised how drunk I felt until my mate left and I was on my own, I had at least another hour before the Women arrived and stared at another full pint, bought against my wishes by my departing mate.
I'd thought about drinking a pint or two of water and trying to sober up, but with that sullen old git watching in the corner I felt somewhat obligated to carry on.

I remember the Women arriving and Sue realising within seconds that I was drunk, I remember them laughing and I also recall me staggering to my feet and buying them a bottle of wine, as apposed to the usual glass.
I also remember them saying how they'd have to get me drunk more often and Val returning the compliment and buying another bottle.

The rest of that night was a weird blur, the subject of my tickle fetish was brought up by Sue and I remember being shocked by Val's enthusiastic reaction when finding out.
Her already piercing voice went a octave higher as they teased me about my fetish.
I was way too drunk to indulge in their banter and had to lean back in my chair taking it, with a stupid smile etched on my face and a feeling of helplessness.

But the really worrying aspect of that evening was of Val trying to pull my long sheer black socks off my feet, having already successfully removed my shoes.
I cracked my knee on the underside of the table as her fingers fumbled around my sheer soles and I gave out a deep laugh and gestured 'NO' with the palm of my hand, but she continued to pull on the heel of my sock as I bucked and jerked at the slightest of touches.
Her touch on my heel made me bite my lip in some vain attempt to stifle a laugh, but I failed miserably.
A trio of deep chuckles, each sounding louder than the previous rang out, but were luckily drown out the loud chatter of merriment in the pub.
Sue was of no help whatsoever, the wine had rendered her a giggling naughty girl who just laughed at the antics of her clearly excited and mischievous friend.

However the real sting in the tail and my abiding memory was seeing Clive move in, he'd clearly heard and saw everything and stared transfixed at the movement going on under the table.
He looked shocked at my lack of fight and vulnerability, he saw an unbelievable opportunity to discredit and humiliate me and wasn't going to let it slip.
His eyes were the size of saucers, his lip quivered and his hands shook uncontrollably as he scampered around the table.

I remember his expressions went from a look of hate, then excitement and finally a menacing look of triumph was etched on his face as he cowered down and crawled underneath the table.
For the first time ever I felt totally helpless and at their mercy, too drunk to even move, I braced myself for what was to come.
I preyed for a miracle and it came, and right in the nick of time.

My night was saved by Malcolm the landlord who rang the Bell and bellowed out "Drink up...drink up" and the barmaid shouting "taxi for Brooking...taxi for Brooking"
I remember Clive banging his head on the rim of the table as he shot up unnoticed, he looked at the Landlord with contempt as he rubbed his head....he was seconds away from humiliating me and scoring a victory.

The saying "SAVED BY THE BELL" was never more poignant, he looked truly gutted and stared at me with contempt.
I adjusted my socks and fumbled around for my shoes, as I was helped up by my Wife and one of the bar staff.
I staggered, aided by my Wife to the exit and the safety of the Taxi.....but phew...I often think what if !

Lady luck was on my side that evening.

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