Is this it?
In a previous post, I mentioned that most females seem to have this innate
sense of "radar" that clues them in to a guy with a foot-fetish. Of course it
may be that I sometimes make my foot-watching a little too obvious, and out of
sheer mischief, the ladies take advantage of a golden opportunity to tease a
man senseless... but in any case, I've seen this time and again throughout my
life (i.e, one girl I grew up with would torment me with her foot-flirting on a
daily basis, but I was sure to pay her back in full once I managed to subdue
and tickle her).
Oddly enough, very often this type of foot-teasing exchange has taken place in
public areas with total strangers; be it the beach, the park, a shopping mall,
wherever. Usually this has been done in a seemingly innocent but obviously
deliberate fashion (though at its most subtle, it's hard to tell how
deliberate). However there was one incident where there was no question of the
intent... made all the more titillating by the fact that it was a team effort
perpetrated by a mother and daughter !
I was a young serviceman at the time (many moons ago), and I had gone to the
eye doctor for a routine checkup. Sitting across from me in the waiting room
were a stunningly attractive lady in her thirties and her adorable-looking
teenage daughter. The mother was tall and slender with shoulder-length dark
hair and freckles, wearing a sleeveless sundress... and her daughter was petite
but well-built, with short strawberry-blond hair (and Mom's freckles), wearing
a snug blouse and skin-tight blue jeans. Both were a vision in matching pairs
of flip-flops... and immediately I took mental note of the shape and size of
their exposed feet... the daughter's were small, creamy-white, and infinitely
soft-looking, with cute, chubby toes and perfectly trimmed little nails (they
were probably about a size 6). Mom's were on the larger and more slender side,
which fit her stature... shoe size 8 to 9; long, deep arches with slim, tanned
toes and broad, pedicured nails (a delicious contrast to her offspring's
feet... but either pair were enough to make my mouth water).
Early on, I looked up to see the mother reading a magazine and casually
dangling her flip-flop from her perfect tootsie. Not an unusual sight in
itself, but it wasn't long before she started to slap her sandal up and down
against the bottom of her foot, wiggling her toes rhythmically to the beat of
(what? the Muzak in the waiting room??). From that point my eyes were nearly
riveted... every time she twitched her foot upward and spread her toes
luxuriously, I could see the soft, pink-white expanse of her sole (and boy, did
it look ticklish). I had picked up my own magazine at this juncture, and I was
pretending to read it (probably not very well) while I peered over the top of
the pages to gaze in awe at her flexing foot whenever I thought she wasn't
looking.
After a while, I couldn't help but notice the smug grin of realization on her
face, and it seemed her daughter must have picked up on the action as well...
at one point she leaned over and whispered something to Mom and they both
erupted into giggles. I was flushed with embarassment and nearly got up to
leave, but then the daughter, in a brazen act of mischief, walked over and sat
down next to me to strike up a conversation... "Hi !! Have you been waiting
long? What do you do here at the base? Have you been stationed here for a
while? How do you like California?"
The whole time Mom perused her magazine directly across from me, that infernal
wiggling foot continuing to tease me into a frenzy (I'll never forget the sound
of her flip-flop slapping at her bare sole, over and over and over...). I would
answer the young girl's questions as best I could (with a throat parched dry
with lust), but each time I turned to make eye-contact with her, I would glance
down the length of her crossed legs and see that she too had adopted Mom's
approach with her own flip-flop... dangling it precariously and scrunching her
pudgy toes inward to catch the sandal from falling at the last second.
Now I was being bombarded from both sides... I swear it was like they were
competing with one another. The sight of the daughter's chubby teenage toes,
wriggling and squirming and fiddling with her sandal, was nothing short of
maddening... and each time I looked up and across from me, there was Mom,
nonchalantly leafing through her magazine as she jiggled and splayed her long
toes before me.
By this time, I was using my magazine to conceal a throbbing erection. The
daughter must have detected my predicament, or at least had some suspicion of
it, because she abruptly stood up, walked over to a poster on the wall, and
began to examine the wording at great length while she slid her foot slowly out
of her sandal... exposing her pale, wrinkled sole to my locked gaze. She would
glide the flip-flop along the carpet with her toes, diddling the strap between
them, then wriggle her foot back into the thong in excruciating, sinuous
slow-motion. She repeated this again and again until I was in a cold sweat. I
glanced over at her mother, and though she avoided my eyes directly, there was
a sly grin on the woman's face like that of the Cheshire cat.
Suddenly my teenage temptress decided to pull out all the stops... and I swear
I'll never forget it. With a mischievous smirk on her lips, she went back over
to her mother, sat down next to her, and began to read Mom's mag from over the
woman's shoulder. Then, with slow, meticulous steadiness, she started to nudge
the sole of her mother's sandal with her plump big toe (the same sandal that
had been dangling for an eternity). Slowly, gently, she would push the thong
with her adolescent toe until at long last it fell to the floor with a
resounding slap.
She reached down as if to retrieve her mother's footwear, and then... as God is
my witness... she started to tickle her. The woman literally exploded into
spasmodic laughter, her smug composure in shreds, as her daughter's tiny
fingertips scampered and pranced up and down the length of her bared sole.
I wasn't even trying to pretend to read my magazine anymore. I sat there in
gleeful astonishment, my cock pounding in my trousers while these two put on
their tickle-show for me. The daughter had a firm grip on her parent's foot,
and she wasn't about to let go... at one point Mom started to pound on the arms
of the chair with her fists while she bawled with helpless laughter.
Then, as fate would have it, they were called into the doctor's office (a good
thing too, as I didn't know how much more I could stand). They went in giggling
like schoolgirls after Mom's flip-flop had been returned to her foot by her
daughter, and I sat there nearly shaking in awe, barely believing what I had
just witnessed.
I can't begin to count the number of times I've fantasized about having those
two teasers strapped side-by-side on a pair of torture-racks... The ticklish
revenge that I would wreak on them !! I would be certain to make their
hysterical ordeals a "family affair"... ---Expert
This is a wonderful place, have fun here.
