It was the summer of 68 and I was working at a filling station. Back then,
whenever you filled your car up with gas you got the "works". This included
checking everything under the hood, tires, windshields, and all glass cleaned,
and your car vacuumed.
Anyway, about 2 in the afternoon, a shiny black caddy pulled in and I went
out to do my job. In it were a classmate of mine, Debbie S., and her mother,
Mrs. S. Mrs. S was driving. They were both decked out in dresses and nylons,
and heels. They'd been shopping.
Now I had taken Debbie out a couple of times so I knew her mother and in
fact got along quite well with her. I stuck my head in the window, smiled,
complemented them on looking so nice and asked what could I do for them.
Mrs. S smiled, patted me on the cheek and said "fill it up sweetie". I'd glanced
down and noticed her heels were on the floor and her sweet nylon clad size
7's were looking real good. She had dark rh&t stockings on.
I put the gas nozzle in and proceeded to check under the hood. My mind
reeling while thinking of her feet. I knew Debbie was ticklish because I'd
tickled her feet on every one of our dates. Mrs. S was your typical homemaker
at the time and whenever I'd pick Debbie up, she'd always be in a house
dress, nylons, and slippers.
I finished under the hood and cleaned the windows. I checked her tires.
Then I got the vacuum and opened the front door where Mrs S was sitting.
She had not put her heels back on so I took one and vacuumed it. She
began to laugh. I grabbed her other heel and vacuumed it. I sat them both
outside the car to prevent her from putting her feet back in them. I then
began to chase her feet with the vacuum, causing her to laugh. She danced
her feet around the floor, then leaned over towards Debbie and put them on
the seat.
There were her nylon clad soles staring me right in the face. What else
could I do but begin to run the vacuum nozzle along her feet. I held on
to one ankle as I did this. She was screaming with ticklish laughter. "There,
one foot's done, I better get this other one", I said. I grabbed her other
ankle and ran the nozzle along that sole. I didn't do it but a few seconds.
Those seconds bought out some really ticklish laughter though.
I finished vacuuming, then picked up her heels and asked if she wanted me
to put them on her. She asked would there be any more tickles involved.
I grinned and said only if she wanted. She said no, that she prefered to
drive barefoot. She then asked Debbie if she had told me how ticklish her
feet were. Debbie said no, but that I like to tickle because I'd tickled her
on our dates. All in all, Mrs. S was pretty cool about it.
I just wonder if Mr. S ever tickled her feet. I'd be a shame if he didn't.
She really had some great feet.
whenever you filled your car up with gas you got the "works". This included
checking everything under the hood, tires, windshields, and all glass cleaned,
and your car vacuumed.
Anyway, about 2 in the afternoon, a shiny black caddy pulled in and I went
out to do my job. In it were a classmate of mine, Debbie S., and her mother,
Mrs. S. Mrs. S was driving. They were both decked out in dresses and nylons,
and heels. They'd been shopping.
Now I had taken Debbie out a couple of times so I knew her mother and in
fact got along quite well with her. I stuck my head in the window, smiled,
complemented them on looking so nice and asked what could I do for them.
Mrs. S smiled, patted me on the cheek and said "fill it up sweetie". I'd glanced
down and noticed her heels were on the floor and her sweet nylon clad size
7's were looking real good. She had dark rh&t stockings on.
I put the gas nozzle in and proceeded to check under the hood. My mind
reeling while thinking of her feet. I knew Debbie was ticklish because I'd
tickled her feet on every one of our dates. Mrs. S was your typical homemaker
at the time and whenever I'd pick Debbie up, she'd always be in a house
dress, nylons, and slippers.
I finished under the hood and cleaned the windows. I checked her tires.
Then I got the vacuum and opened the front door where Mrs S was sitting.
She had not put her heels back on so I took one and vacuumed it. She
began to laugh. I grabbed her other heel and vacuumed it. I sat them both
outside the car to prevent her from putting her feet back in them. I then
began to chase her feet with the vacuum, causing her to laugh. She danced
her feet around the floor, then leaned over towards Debbie and put them on
the seat.
There were her nylon clad soles staring me right in the face. What else
could I do but begin to run the vacuum nozzle along her feet. I held on
to one ankle as I did this. She was screaming with ticklish laughter. "There,
one foot's done, I better get this other one", I said. I grabbed her other
ankle and ran the nozzle along that sole. I didn't do it but a few seconds.
Those seconds bought out some really ticklish laughter though.
I finished vacuuming, then picked up her heels and asked if she wanted me
to put them on her. She asked would there be any more tickles involved.
I grinned and said only if she wanted. She said no, that she prefered to
drive barefoot. She then asked Debbie if she had told me how ticklish her
feet were. Debbie said no, but that I like to tickle because I'd tickled her
on our dates. All in all, Mrs. S was pretty cool about it.
I just wonder if Mr. S ever tickled her feet. I'd be a shame if he didn't.
She really had some great feet.
