Friends...I've been searching my (very old) memory banks, trying to find more situations worth posting. This came to mind...
My first wife had two aunts who she was very fond of, and both were, fun, great ladies. This takes place when I was in my mid-30's, so her aunt would have been mid-50's. Aunt Connie...the best I can describe her was she looked a bit like Bea Arthur, but with a prettier/softer face, and short Auburn hair. She lost her husband to illness, so we would go out of our way to spend time with her.
We went to visit her for a weekend. On Sunday morning my wife and I went for a long walk, while Aunt Connie went to church. Aunt Connie was home when we got back, still in her flowery dress and tan nylons. She was in her stockinged feet.
Speaking of feet...my then-wife was having a problem with hers. She had a semi-chronic pain issue with one foot, and as soon as we got back from the walk we went to the couch so i could massage her foot (we had a good friend who was a chiropractor...he taught me some foot-massage tricks).
After I got done with her foot, I remained on the couch as my wife left the room. Before I knew it, Aunt Connine zoomed in and took my wife's place, putting her stockinged feet right in my lap. She was fun, and free-spirited, and a bit flirty.
"I'm next!"
OK...what would you do? I know what you'd do...you'd start rubbing her huge pantyhosed feet. I still remember how warm and moist they felt, as if she had recently taken off her shoes.
So...I'm sitting there, trying to give her a good foot massage...but also work in a tickling...when my wife came back into the living room. She kind of smiled, and stood there with her hands on her hips. Her aunt said "Sorry, it just looked to good to pass up".
"He gives a great massage" was my wife's reply as she headed to the kitchen. "But be careful. He likes to tickle."
"That's okay, I'm not TICKLISH!!!!" She said that last word in a surprised scream, because it turns out she was ticklish. Very ticklish arches. I had positioned each of my thumbs into each of her stockinged soles, and dug in a bit. She yanked both feet away.
I looked at her in mock surprise.
"How did you do that!?!? I'm more ticklish than I thought!"
"It's just part of the massage (I lied
), massaging the arch..."
"I love the massage, but it's best to leave my arches alone..."
I kind of signaled with my hands for her to put her lovely (she did take care of them) feet back up. I massaged for a bit, but I was not going to let this opportunity pass by. I grasped the top of each foot, and went back to tickling her soles with my thumbs. This time I was prepared to hold on.
"Hey! HEY! HAHAHEYYYYY!"
I got her pretty good before she pulled her feet away. That was the end of my favorite massages.