Welp - probably gonna think about moving this to DeviantArt or something. While I'm continuously writing, I do realize that there hasn't been a lot of tickling so far. This is what I get for writing about real people through these personas.... Either way, thanks for reading, if you've so taken the time.
Episode 2 – A Measure of Statistics – M/F
“Hey! Are you okay? You seem kinda down…”
I looked up from my phone in our campus community center, hearing the sound of a familiar voice, spying the icy blue gaze from Summer. I gave her a slight smile – a semester in and she definitely knew me as well as most of my friends from high school – because I was feeling a little off.
The truth is, our little tickle session was the only action that I’d had since graduating high school and breaking up with my girlfriend. I was having fun at parties, but meeting women and making out wasn’t quite filling the void.
Summer was an acute observer – I was rigid and I was off rhythm. In truth, I suppose that I was intrinsically hoping that someone would notice, just not her. We were friends. She was wonderful. But she wasn’t the girl for me – in fact she had met someone, which had always made me happy.
They’re still together today. Married even.
Clearly noticing my thoughts at the time, and my silence, she exclaimed, “Hey! Whatever happened with that cute redhead at the party?”
I smirked lightly, “Ohhhh….she was sweet, petite…..and occupied”, I chuckled. “So I backed off”
She rolled her platinum blues. “Oh well, I guess not everyone can fall victim to your….whims”
She giggled and looked at me, as I returned a knowing smile, standing. “Alright alright, I take your point. I just miss having a partner.”
Nudging me in the ribs with a rather bony elbow, her training was clearly paying off for the track team, I grimaced as she teased, “Well, you missed your chance with me.”
I laughed. “Yeah, poor me. Guess the new semester will just have to yield a new friend, huh?”
“I guess so!”, she agreed, beaming at her success with picking up my mood.
Giving her a sidelong glance, I admitted to her, “Honestly it’s just been hard to feel interested again. I miss having a best friend that walks with me in new places. Tries new restaurants. Gripes about friends and family. And yeah yeah…”
I glanced around. “….and tickles, sure.”
Summer just smiled, finally seeing that I was vulnerable. Tightlipped, but full of emotion, her face said everything that words couldn’t. Her empathy bled from her cheeks, and the dimples beside her lips, and she slung an arm around my waist, giving me a firm side hug.
“Alright” I said, “enough of this nonsense. Too many….feelings. Let’s get to south campus for the new classes.” And so we set off, trekking toward south campus, talking about her new boyfriend and our friends along the way. Conversing about the classes that we were most – and least – looking forward to also helped pass the time, and after a brief 30 minutes, we reached our building hub.
“Well, my building is over there in sociology”, she thumbed her indication behind her. I simply nodded, and then we agreed to meet in the same place after class. Prattling away into my phone to check the latest transfer news for global football, I paused when I arrived at the door to my entry level statistics course.
“Oh. Sorry.” I heard a mellow, soft spoken voice mumble in my direction.
I glanced up and was met with a set of shy, pink lips, curled into an awkward smile. Her pointed nose was slender, and her eyes were gray, set against a backdrop of tanned, but freckled, skin, and lovely cheeks. I couldn’t help but smile the same awkward, *well here we are* kind of smile back at her.
“No worries, I wasn’t paying much attention so I’m sure you were here before me.” I gestured for her to proceed through the door.
She blushed and hurried through. Once passed, I finally exhaled.
Luck may be turning around, I thought. I sauntered through the door and found a seat adjacent to hers, with my name on the screen. I gave her a friendly smile, and she blushed again, smiling back at me.
Deciding to get over the awkwardness, I just put out my hand and introduced myself.
“Caitlyn”, she said in return, placing her delicate fingers into my palm for a brief shake, her eyes twinkling and her teeth briefly making an appearance before her cheeks worked to tighten her lips, and only tease me with a slight smirk.
“Ready for this class?” I asked, Stats being a strong subject for me.
“Not really. I get algebra and calc, but this stuff is weird to me”, her posture changed quickly. My mystique was gone, at least partially, so she was opening up.
“Ah I hear ya. I like stats actually. Was a sports card collector growing up so I enjoy the concept.” Admitting my nerdiness always was a strength of mine. Can’t change it anyway.
“My little brother liked that kind of stuff! I didn’t even know that they had stats on them!” She giggled, and finally revealed a genuine smile. I quickly understood that she was a guarded person, and likely hadn’t experienced a lot in her life.
Taking this slow would be the way to…
Her foot removed itself from her sandal. A smooth sole facing me, pale and white, in deep contrast with the olive color of the tops of her bare feet. Her dark red nail polish was not new, but it wasn’t cheap or chipped, and a slight exposure of her nail was underneath each glimpse of red. Her toes splayed slightly before scrunching, showing me, within touching distance, that her sole was naturally taut, soft, and smooth. It wasn’t a wrinkly sole, rather one that always had a porcelain display adjacent to a dark pink heel and tanned toe pads.
“…see something you like?” She grinned at me.
Fuck, I froze. It was unlike me to stare in conversation like that. I guess I was feeling more frisky than I’d thought.
She snickered into her hand.
“Cute! I am just happy that I wasn’t the only one today who got all blushy”. She smirked and showed another genuine smile, but I went on the attack.
“Oh really? So you were blushing for me?”
She turned red again and held her hand over her face.
And then the professor began….
Funny thing is…. It took weeks to make it past that point. Hours of class. Even more hours of tutoring….always at her place.
Look, fair enough. I thought. It was fun to meet someone new, we just couldn’t get over that “potential interest” hump…
“Hey – I really like you. I just feel so silly and little around you, and it’s so unusual…”, her text to me read.
Oh…okay well I have no f**kin’ idea how this works…
“Phew!”, is all I could type back. Pre-tty smooth…
“Look – can I come over?”, my eyes glazed over, as my fingers typed “Yes” before I could even think about it.
I spent the next 30 just drinking water, sitting on the couch, trying to figure out if I did anything differently this week. I couldn’t come up with a good answer… and after 45 minutes had passed with no appearance from Caitlyn, I just started up some SWTOR on my laptop. So…confused….
I heard a soft knock onto my dorm room door… putting my laptop into sleep, I popped off of the desk chair and I opened the door.
She was stunning. Hair curled, red dress, perfect glasses, just a touch of makeup artistically drawn, adorable open shoes… at a sadly late stage of life, I understood why women chose to take a little extra. It’s always worth it.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and she kissed me, I quickly grabbed her waist and pulled her into my room, the door shutting behind me, my friend timing his walk into his own room perfectly, giving me a sneaky thumbs up. I smirked slightly into the kiss as a result.
“God… I’m so sorry for…”, I stopped her there and kissed her again, lightly pressing in on her bottom lip.
She blushed. Hard, and put one hand above her brow to try and hide both her reddening color and her beaming smile. “….for just being… this.” She gestured to herself. I took her face into my hands, gently and I looked into her eyes and I said, “if this is a bad day, good days must be unbelievable.” She just smiled and she leaned back and let me kiss her again.
After making out for about 10 minutes, she reached down and clutched at a growing mass, still clothed.
“Mmmm…glad to see that I’m well liked in this room”, she smiled again, in a genuinely confident way. I smiled back at her, but she placed her hand on my chest.
“What does it take to make you flustered…?” I paused. That was the definitely the first time that I’d ever been asked that question in a moment like this. “uhhhhmmm….I don’t know. It’s not really my…”
She put her wriggling toes into my hands. I simply looked down, and then back at her…. A bit flustered. She simply grinned. “…see something you like…?”
Honestly, this was the first time that I had probably forgotten about my fetish in weeks. And here was this gorgeous brunette, with this high-class smile and gorgeous gray eyes, beautiful dress and butter soft soles, just bringing me back to reality. Reality with her.
“Caitlyn…. Are you…. Ticklish?” my fingers curled against her soft arches.
Her back arched. She gasped, the moment my fingertips brushed her lower arch, just where her heels touched, her eyes widened, her toes flinched and then splayed… and she looked straight into my eyes, mouth slightly agape. And then she smiled.
“Ohhhh…. So is that what it takes?” she grabbed my shaft, wrapping her pretty fingers around me, her toes crunching. “Well….I’m veryyyy ticklish…” she smiled, pulling me closer, whispering those words into my ear, before nuzzling my neck with her teeth.
That was all I needed to hear. My fingers started spidering along her oh-so-smooth sole, playing around her heels and insteps, before moving dead center – which always elicited a high-pitched squeal from her – and then moving up to the balls of her feet which made her toes crunch. Her laughter was full and loud, but harmonious and simply delightful to listen to as she kept her eyes open, but her cheeks compressed around her nose as she beamed. Her soles were so soft, so smooth, and lightly warm, but funny enough, when I reached her toes, they were ice cold.
Sadly, her reactions showed this too. She smirked through her light giggles… “Mmmm they may need some warming… I bet you have a bit of a foot fetish hmm…?” Her hand, yet to leave my hard-on, slowly pumped as she said this. I simply exhaled, as she pushed me onto my back, and she put her feet on my chest, seductively waving her feet in small circles within my gaze.
“Have at me tiger.”
Did she just call me tiger? Her hand began to more thoroughly reach for me, sliding her cool fingers up my short leg and around me hot erection. Fuck, did that lame nickname just turn me on?
I wasted no time, and I leaned forward and slid her two longest toes into my lips, nibbling slightly and letting my tongue strum along her toes. She winced and squinted each time my tongue grazed along the bottoms of her toe pads. On her other foot, I rapidly scrubbed my nails along the dead centers of her arch in a vertical line, which made her entire body convulse and she gripped me tightly in defense – which actually hurt slightly – but I continued anyway, eager to watch her have the time of her life. She looked like years of stress were escaping her from her laughter alone.
And it was at that moment, that I realized that this relationship was destined to follow that path.
She wanted me to show her that she still “had it”. And fuuuuuck, did she have it. But she didn’t want me. It was fun, and I’d keep having fun for as long as she’d let me….
But I was little more than a toy. As much as I was finding partners to let off some steam, this girl had me wrapped around her finger… but only when she so chose. And that’s why it was never going to work. Fun night though. And we had a few events over the subsequent weeks, but it ran its course. We couldn’t connect on any other level. When she wasn’t an absolute stick of dynamite, she was cold, and I wasn’t the guy who could make her feel good at every moment. Total mismatch. And that’s okay.
Besides, we would meet again….
I met Summer for our walk a day later – she smirked at me like a girl who is all-too-knowing.
“Shuttup”, I said, smiling embarrassed.
Or was it flustered….
Episode 2 – A Measure of Statistics – M/F
“Hey! Are you okay? You seem kinda down…”
I looked up from my phone in our campus community center, hearing the sound of a familiar voice, spying the icy blue gaze from Summer. I gave her a slight smile – a semester in and she definitely knew me as well as most of my friends from high school – because I was feeling a little off.
The truth is, our little tickle session was the only action that I’d had since graduating high school and breaking up with my girlfriend. I was having fun at parties, but meeting women and making out wasn’t quite filling the void.
Summer was an acute observer – I was rigid and I was off rhythm. In truth, I suppose that I was intrinsically hoping that someone would notice, just not her. We were friends. She was wonderful. But she wasn’t the girl for me – in fact she had met someone, which had always made me happy.
They’re still together today. Married even.
Clearly noticing my thoughts at the time, and my silence, she exclaimed, “Hey! Whatever happened with that cute redhead at the party?”
I smirked lightly, “Ohhhh….she was sweet, petite…..and occupied”, I chuckled. “So I backed off”
She rolled her platinum blues. “Oh well, I guess not everyone can fall victim to your….whims”
She giggled and looked at me, as I returned a knowing smile, standing. “Alright alright, I take your point. I just miss having a partner.”
Nudging me in the ribs with a rather bony elbow, her training was clearly paying off for the track team, I grimaced as she teased, “Well, you missed your chance with me.”
I laughed. “Yeah, poor me. Guess the new semester will just have to yield a new friend, huh?”
“I guess so!”, she agreed, beaming at her success with picking up my mood.
Giving her a sidelong glance, I admitted to her, “Honestly it’s just been hard to feel interested again. I miss having a best friend that walks with me in new places. Tries new restaurants. Gripes about friends and family. And yeah yeah…”
I glanced around. “….and tickles, sure.”
Summer just smiled, finally seeing that I was vulnerable. Tightlipped, but full of emotion, her face said everything that words couldn’t. Her empathy bled from her cheeks, and the dimples beside her lips, and she slung an arm around my waist, giving me a firm side hug.
“Alright” I said, “enough of this nonsense. Too many….feelings. Let’s get to south campus for the new classes.” And so we set off, trekking toward south campus, talking about her new boyfriend and our friends along the way. Conversing about the classes that we were most – and least – looking forward to also helped pass the time, and after a brief 30 minutes, we reached our building hub.
“Well, my building is over there in sociology”, she thumbed her indication behind her. I simply nodded, and then we agreed to meet in the same place after class. Prattling away into my phone to check the latest transfer news for global football, I paused when I arrived at the door to my entry level statistics course.
“Oh. Sorry.” I heard a mellow, soft spoken voice mumble in my direction.
I glanced up and was met with a set of shy, pink lips, curled into an awkward smile. Her pointed nose was slender, and her eyes were gray, set against a backdrop of tanned, but freckled, skin, and lovely cheeks. I couldn’t help but smile the same awkward, *well here we are* kind of smile back at her.
“No worries, I wasn’t paying much attention so I’m sure you were here before me.” I gestured for her to proceed through the door.
She blushed and hurried through. Once passed, I finally exhaled.
Luck may be turning around, I thought. I sauntered through the door and found a seat adjacent to hers, with my name on the screen. I gave her a friendly smile, and she blushed again, smiling back at me.
Deciding to get over the awkwardness, I just put out my hand and introduced myself.
“Caitlyn”, she said in return, placing her delicate fingers into my palm for a brief shake, her eyes twinkling and her teeth briefly making an appearance before her cheeks worked to tighten her lips, and only tease me with a slight smirk.
“Ready for this class?” I asked, Stats being a strong subject for me.
“Not really. I get algebra and calc, but this stuff is weird to me”, her posture changed quickly. My mystique was gone, at least partially, so she was opening up.
“Ah I hear ya. I like stats actually. Was a sports card collector growing up so I enjoy the concept.” Admitting my nerdiness always was a strength of mine. Can’t change it anyway.
“My little brother liked that kind of stuff! I didn’t even know that they had stats on them!” She giggled, and finally revealed a genuine smile. I quickly understood that she was a guarded person, and likely hadn’t experienced a lot in her life.
Taking this slow would be the way to…
Her foot removed itself from her sandal. A smooth sole facing me, pale and white, in deep contrast with the olive color of the tops of her bare feet. Her dark red nail polish was not new, but it wasn’t cheap or chipped, and a slight exposure of her nail was underneath each glimpse of red. Her toes splayed slightly before scrunching, showing me, within touching distance, that her sole was naturally taut, soft, and smooth. It wasn’t a wrinkly sole, rather one that always had a porcelain display adjacent to a dark pink heel and tanned toe pads.
“…see something you like?” She grinned at me.
Fuck, I froze. It was unlike me to stare in conversation like that. I guess I was feeling more frisky than I’d thought.
She snickered into her hand.
“Cute! I am just happy that I wasn’t the only one today who got all blushy”. She smirked and showed another genuine smile, but I went on the attack.
“Oh really? So you were blushing for me?”
She turned red again and held her hand over her face.
And then the professor began….
Funny thing is…. It took weeks to make it past that point. Hours of class. Even more hours of tutoring….always at her place.
Look, fair enough. I thought. It was fun to meet someone new, we just couldn’t get over that “potential interest” hump…
“Hey – I really like you. I just feel so silly and little around you, and it’s so unusual…”, her text to me read.
Oh…okay well I have no f**kin’ idea how this works…
“Phew!”, is all I could type back. Pre-tty smooth…
“Look – can I come over?”, my eyes glazed over, as my fingers typed “Yes” before I could even think about it.
I spent the next 30 just drinking water, sitting on the couch, trying to figure out if I did anything differently this week. I couldn’t come up with a good answer… and after 45 minutes had passed with no appearance from Caitlyn, I just started up some SWTOR on my laptop. So…confused….
I heard a soft knock onto my dorm room door… putting my laptop into sleep, I popped off of the desk chair and I opened the door.
She was stunning. Hair curled, red dress, perfect glasses, just a touch of makeup artistically drawn, adorable open shoes… at a sadly late stage of life, I understood why women chose to take a little extra. It’s always worth it.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and she kissed me, I quickly grabbed her waist and pulled her into my room, the door shutting behind me, my friend timing his walk into his own room perfectly, giving me a sneaky thumbs up. I smirked slightly into the kiss as a result.
“God… I’m so sorry for…”, I stopped her there and kissed her again, lightly pressing in on her bottom lip.
She blushed. Hard, and put one hand above her brow to try and hide both her reddening color and her beaming smile. “….for just being… this.” She gestured to herself. I took her face into my hands, gently and I looked into her eyes and I said, “if this is a bad day, good days must be unbelievable.” She just smiled and she leaned back and let me kiss her again.
After making out for about 10 minutes, she reached down and clutched at a growing mass, still clothed.
“Mmmm…glad to see that I’m well liked in this room”, she smiled again, in a genuinely confident way. I smiled back at her, but she placed her hand on my chest.
“What does it take to make you flustered…?” I paused. That was the definitely the first time that I’d ever been asked that question in a moment like this. “uhhhhmmm….I don’t know. It’s not really my…”
She put her wriggling toes into my hands. I simply looked down, and then back at her…. A bit flustered. She simply grinned. “…see something you like…?”
Honestly, this was the first time that I had probably forgotten about my fetish in weeks. And here was this gorgeous brunette, with this high-class smile and gorgeous gray eyes, beautiful dress and butter soft soles, just bringing me back to reality. Reality with her.
“Caitlyn…. Are you…. Ticklish?” my fingers curled against her soft arches.
Her back arched. She gasped, the moment my fingertips brushed her lower arch, just where her heels touched, her eyes widened, her toes flinched and then splayed… and she looked straight into my eyes, mouth slightly agape. And then she smiled.
“Ohhhh…. So is that what it takes?” she grabbed my shaft, wrapping her pretty fingers around me, her toes crunching. “Well….I’m veryyyy ticklish…” she smiled, pulling me closer, whispering those words into my ear, before nuzzling my neck with her teeth.
That was all I needed to hear. My fingers started spidering along her oh-so-smooth sole, playing around her heels and insteps, before moving dead center – which always elicited a high-pitched squeal from her – and then moving up to the balls of her feet which made her toes crunch. Her laughter was full and loud, but harmonious and simply delightful to listen to as she kept her eyes open, but her cheeks compressed around her nose as she beamed. Her soles were so soft, so smooth, and lightly warm, but funny enough, when I reached her toes, they were ice cold.
Sadly, her reactions showed this too. She smirked through her light giggles… “Mmmm they may need some warming… I bet you have a bit of a foot fetish hmm…?” Her hand, yet to leave my hard-on, slowly pumped as she said this. I simply exhaled, as she pushed me onto my back, and she put her feet on my chest, seductively waving her feet in small circles within my gaze.
“Have at me tiger.”
Did she just call me tiger? Her hand began to more thoroughly reach for me, sliding her cool fingers up my short leg and around me hot erection. Fuck, did that lame nickname just turn me on?
I wasted no time, and I leaned forward and slid her two longest toes into my lips, nibbling slightly and letting my tongue strum along her toes. She winced and squinted each time my tongue grazed along the bottoms of her toe pads. On her other foot, I rapidly scrubbed my nails along the dead centers of her arch in a vertical line, which made her entire body convulse and she gripped me tightly in defense – which actually hurt slightly – but I continued anyway, eager to watch her have the time of her life. She looked like years of stress were escaping her from her laughter alone.
And it was at that moment, that I realized that this relationship was destined to follow that path.
She wanted me to show her that she still “had it”. And fuuuuuck, did she have it. But she didn’t want me. It was fun, and I’d keep having fun for as long as she’d let me….
But I was little more than a toy. As much as I was finding partners to let off some steam, this girl had me wrapped around her finger… but only when she so chose. And that’s why it was never going to work. Fun night though. And we had a few events over the subsequent weeks, but it ran its course. We couldn’t connect on any other level. When she wasn’t an absolute stick of dynamite, she was cold, and I wasn’t the guy who could make her feel good at every moment. Total mismatch. And that’s okay.
Besides, we would meet again….
I met Summer for our walk a day later – she smirked at me like a girl who is all-too-knowing.
“Shuttup”, I said, smiling embarrassed.
Or was it flustered….
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