MORE stories of Moms and Aunts...a new thread for 2022.

Fresh out of high school, I moved in with my aunt and uncle as it was too cramped in my parents' house.

My aunt and I have always been extremely close; she's like the older sister I never had.

Because of that dynamic, we often get into extremely heated, although admittedly very silly, arguments.

She's got a very feisty personality and LOVES UFC and anything MMA.

She's had some amateur wrestling practice and keeps herself fairly fit, as do I.

On more than one occasion, an aforementioned argument will turn into a full blown wrestling match between her and I, and it can happen in front of my uncle and/or cousins, or even if we're alone.

Purely harmless.

She always puts up quite a fight but I almost always get the best of her, simply because I'm at least twice her size and can match her skill level.

I don't know how many of these wrestling matches we had before the realization hit me like a ton of bricks: I had no idea if she was ticklish!

The next chance I got, I easily provoked her into started a wrestling match.

We grappled for a few minutes before we ended up on the ground next to each other; I had one of her arms trapped underneath my body and the other one pinned above her head.

And then I something along the lines of, "You know, you never seem to learn your lesson. Maybe I should try teaching you in a different way"

She looked a little confused and until I raised my free hand and started wiggling my fingers right above her helpless armpit.

Her eyes almost popped out of her head and she started struggling again so hard that I almost lost my grip on her... Almost lol

I immediately dug my fingers into her armpit and she let out a blood curdling scream, right in my ear, and proceeded yank her arms together with the might of Zues, causing me to lose my holds on her.

She tries to take advantage of her new found freedom by rolling over on her stomach and attempting to scramble away on her hands and knees, but I catch her by her ankles and hold on for dear life.

The whole time she's protesting and cussing at me, I'm reorienting myself yanking her backwards and stretching her out, bending her legs at the knees and sitting on her shins, pressing her calves into her thighs and making her heels touch her butt.

Despite her frantic protests, I slowly slip off her tiny ankle socks, baring her creamy looking little soles, asking if she's ready to pay for always starting fights that she can't finish.

Before she can say anything else, I sink my spidering fingers into her delightfully soft arches, right in the centers.

She lets out another soul-ripping scream and starts pounding the floor so hard that I'm half afraid she'll hurt her hands.

I move all the way from her cushy heels to her perfectly shaped toes, but I always come back to that spot on the middle of her arches, as it always evokes the best responses.

Her hysterical laughter eventually turns silent, as all she can do is weakly slap the floor.

I have little interest in killing her, so I decide to give her a break and ask if she wants to keep arguing with me.

After a couple deep breaths, she vehemently submits and begs for mercy.

Satisfied, I make sure to give her arches a few more solid tickles before letting her go, leaving her in a puddle of ticklish goo on the floor.

After she recovers, she finally gets off the floor, swears revenge, and goes to grab a water bottle before we just continue our afternoon like nothing happened.

We've only wrestled a handful of times after that incident, and true to her word she did get me back a little, but I'm proud to say that each time ended with me tickling the crap out of her delightfully sensitive armpits, midsection, feet, or even her lower thighs and backs of knees.

And by the way, there was never anything inappropriate or sexual involved.

Just good ol' fashioned tickle fights lol

TklGuy18 said:

Fresh out of high school, I moved in with my aunt and uncle as it was too cramped in my parents' house.

My aunt and I have always been extremely close; she's like the older sister I never had.

Because of that dynamic, we often get into extremely heated, although admittedly very silly, arguments.

She's got a very feisty personality and LOVES UFC and anything MMA.

She's had some amateur wrestling practice and keeps herself fairly fit, as do I.

On more than one occasion, an aforementioned argument will turn into a full blown wrestling match between her and I, and it can happen in front of my uncle and/or cousins, or even if we're alone.

Purely harmless.

She always puts up quite a fight but I almost always get the best of her, simply because I'm at least twice her size and can match her skill level.

I don't know how many of these wrestling matches we had before the realization hit me like a ton of bricks: I had no idea if she was ticklish!

The next chance I got, I easily provoked her into started a wrestling match.

We grappled for a few minutes before we ended up on the ground next to each other; I had one of her arms trapped underneath my body and the other one pinned above her head.

And then I something along the lines of, "You know, you never seem to learn your lesson. Maybe I should try teaching you in a different way"

She looked a little confused and until I raised my free hand and started wiggling my fingers right above her helpless armpit.

Her eyes almost popped out of her head and she started struggling again so hard that I almost lost my grip on her... Almost lol

I immediately dug my fingers into her armpit and she let out a blood curdling scream, right in my ear, and proceeded yank her arms together with the might of Zues, causing me to lose my holds on her.

She tries to take advantage of her new found freedom by rolling over on her stomach and attempting to scramble away on her hands and knees, but I catch her by her ankles and hold on for dear life.

The whole time she's protesting and cussing at me, I'm reorienting myself yanking her backwards and stretching her out, bending her legs at the knees and sitting on her shins, pressing her calves into her thighs and making her heels touch her butt.

Despite her frantic protests, I slowly slip off her tiny ankle socks, baring her creamy looking little soles, asking if she's ready to pay for always starting fights that she can't finish.

Before she can say anything else, I sink my spidering fingers into her delightfully soft arches, right in the centers.

She lets out another soul-ripping scream and starts pounding the floor so hard that I'm half afraid she'll hurt her hands.

I move all the way from her cushy heels to her perfectly shaped toes, but I always come back to that spot on the middle of her arches, as it always evokes the best responses.

Her hysterical laughter eventually turns silent, as all she can do is weakly slap the floor.

I have little interest in killing her, so I decide to give her a break and ask if she wants to keep arguing with me.

After a couple deep breaths, she vehemently submits and begs for mercy.

Satisfied, I make sure to give her arches a few more solid tickles before letting her go, leaving her in a puddle of ticklish goo on the floor.

After she recovers, she finally gets off the floor, swears revenge, and goes to grab a water bottle before we just continue our afternoon like nothing happened.

We've only wrestled a handful of times after that incident, and true to her word she did get me back a little, but I'm proud to say that each time ended with me tickling the crap out of her delightfully sensitive armpits, midsection, feet, or even her lower thighs and backs of knees.

And by the way, there was never anything inappropriate or sexual involved.

Just good ol' fashioned tickle fights lol

Click to expand...

Hey guy, great experience with your Aunt. How old is she? How tall ? Did she ever say the word i'm ticklish or I hate being tickled? Thanks for sharing.

TklGuy18 said:

Fresh out of high school, I moved in with my aunt and uncle as it was too cramped in my parents' house.

My aunt and I have always been extremely close; she's like the older sister I never had.

Because of that dynamic, we often get into extremely heated, although admittedly very silly, arguments.

She's got a very feisty personality and LOVES UFC and anything MMA.

She's had some amateur wrestling practice and keeps herself fairly fit, as do I.

On more than one occasion, an aforementioned argument will turn into a full blown wrestling match between her and I, and it can happen in front of my uncle and/or cousins, or even if we're alone.

Purely harmless.

She always puts up quite a fight but I almost always get the best of her, simply because I'm at least twice her size and can match her skill level.

I don't know how many of these wrestling matches we had before the realization hit me like a ton of bricks: I had no idea if she was ticklish!

The next chance I got, I easily provoked her into started a wrestling match.

We grappled for a few minutes before we ended up on the ground next to each other; I had one of her arms trapped underneath my body and the other one pinned above her head.

And then I something along the lines of, "You know, you never seem to learn your lesson. Maybe I should try teaching you in a different way"

She looked a little confused and until I raised my free hand and started wiggling my fingers right above her helpless armpit.

Her eyes almost popped out of her head and she started struggling again so hard that I almost lost my grip on her... Almost lol

I immediately dug my fingers into her armpit and she let out a blood curdling scream, right in my ear, and proceeded yank her arms together with the might of Zues, causing me to lose my holds on her.

She tries to take advantage of her new found freedom by rolling over on her stomach and attempting to scramble away on her hands and knees, but I catch her by her ankles and hold on for dear life.

The whole time she's protesting and cussing at me, I'm reorienting myself yanking her backwards and stretching her out, bending her legs at the knees and sitting on her shins, pressing her calves into her thighs and making her heels touch her butt.

Despite her frantic protests, I slowly slip off her tiny ankle socks, baring her creamy looking little soles, asking if she's ready to pay for always starting fights that she can't finish.

Before she can say anything else, I sink my spidering fingers into her delightfully soft arches, right in the centers.

She lets out another soul-ripping scream and starts pounding the floor so hard that I'm half afraid she'll hurt her hands.

I move all the way from her cushy heels to her perfectly shaped toes, but I always come back to that spot on the middle of her arches, as it always evokes the best responses.

Her hysterical laughter eventually turns silent, as all she can do is weakly slap the floor.

I have little interest in killing her, so I decide to give her a break and ask if she wants to keep arguing with me.

After a couple deep breaths, she vehemently submits and begs for mercy.

Satisfied, I make sure to give her arches a few more solid tickles before letting her go, leaving her in a puddle of ticklish goo on the floor.

After she recovers, she finally gets off the floor, swears revenge, and goes to grab a water bottle before we just continue our afternoon like nothing happened.

We've only wrestled a handful of times after that incident, and true to her word she did get me back a little, but I'm proud to say that each time ended with me tickling the crap out of her delightfully sensitive armpits, midsection, feet, or even her lower thighs and backs of knees.

And by the way, there was never anything inappropriate or sexual involved.

Just good ol' fashioned tickle fights lol

Click to expand...

WOW. Fantastic story. Thanks for sharing!!!!

Man, you are SO lucky!! When I was a kid, and tried some foot tickling with my Aunt, she recognized that it was a sexual thing for me, and stopped me from proceeding. She relented a bit and would let me play with her feet, but not much more.

This was a few nights after my last story with my aunt from Christmas 1996. My parents, aunt, uncle and myself were in her front room, where there was conversation, food, drink, laughter, and much merriment, as it should be over Christmas! I was on the sofa with my parents, my aunt was sat on the floor with her back against the armchair and my uncle was sat at the table. We were all watching TV and chatting, when suddenly my aunt beckoned me over.

'Come here, SmashTV!' she said in a stern voice, loud enough for everybody to hear.
'Why? What do you want?', I asked, pretending to be curious and frightened. However, I was hopeful that I knew what she had in mind.
'Come here!’ she repeated, gesturing at the spot in front of her.
‘What do y-
‘Come here, and rub my feet!'

Hell yeah!

She was dressed similarly to how she'd been at Christmas dinner, and as she continued to summon me she slid her shoes off (black suede flats), exposing her lovely black stocking feet to me. I pretended to moan, but inside my heart was doing backflips! I could have done without the audience, of course, but I wasn't going to complain! I sat between her legs with my back facing her, and began to massage her feet which was odd, as I normally tickled them straight away. However, I had an audience this time, and I didn't fancy blowing my cover! My aunt made a few contented noises and so I carried on, my fingers rubbing her toes, insteps, heels etc. Nobody else said anything, in fact they all kept on talking and so I kept on playing with my aunt's feet. She was resting her hands on my shoulders now, giving little tickles of her own....

However, my position was a bit uncomfortable, so I took my aunt's feet and lifted them through the crooks of my arms so that they were resting on my thighs. It genuinely made it easier for me, but at the same time it gave me more of a chance to see her feet! I think my aunt knew what I was up to as she’d tilt her feet to the side, giving me a closeup shot of her glorious black stocking soles. Everyone laughed at my aunt's new position, but I was trying not to draw attention to how much I was enjoying it. However, under the cover of conversation I discreetly switched the massaging and stroking for a full on tickling. My fingers scampered along my aunt's soles and insteps, digging gently into her toes before tracing along her heels. Inevitably my aunt picked up on this immediately and, maybe due to the alcohol, began to provide a running commentary of my technique...

'Oh, he's switched from massaging my feet to tickling my feet....OH THAT'S IT....oh, that feels WONDERFUL....do my insteps, will you ooohhhhhh YES! Smash, your touch is amazing, you've got it JUST right! Are you tickling my toes now? Hehehe...mmm....lovely....that's right, up and down my soles....'

She was also discreetly stroking my back at this point, getting more daring as she commentated further on my tickling skills. This went on for about fifteen minutes total, and amazingly the rest of the adults kept talking amongst themselves! I had to stop it eventually, as I didn’t want to look like I was enjoying it TOO much! Yes, I was enjoying it, but not enjoying it as much as I could with everyone else in the room. I looked back at my aunt a few times as I tickled, and the look of sheer pleasure on her face was wonderful to see! I also had signs of sheer pleasure, but not on my face...! When I finished suddenly, my aunt let out a fake moan and began to pout that it was over, but gave me a little smile and wink later on when nobody else was looking!

Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV

When I was younger there was a family gathering I attended, some relative’s birthday I believe. Anyway, everyone was outside on the patio since it was summertime except for one of my aunts who was laying in a recliner in the living room. She had on cotton slippers with no backs AND she had on tan nylons.

I came in to talk to her for a few minutes and I walked to the end of the recliner and said to her ‘you should be more comfortable’. Then I removed her slippers and dropped them on the floor next to her. I couldn’t help myself and tickled the bottom of one of her feet. She said ‘Ahhh stop!’ Kinda loud. I stopped immediately because I didn’t want to alert other family members. That would’ve been very embarrassing.

I sat down in a chair near her and started watching TV. She fell asleep within about 20 minutes still without her slippers on. I went over and tickled her lightly. She woke up right away and winked and smiled at me while saying ‘hey I felt that…’

I went back outside after that. Someone was bound to come into the living room and there’s no way I could resist tickling her feet some more had I stayed. She never mentioned it after that most likely since it seemed innocent enough.

I will never forget that soft feeling of her pantyhose under my fingers and her very ticklish feet. Here is what her slippers looked like.

Jack Sanfini said:

Hey guy, great experience with your Aunt. How old is she? How tall ? Did she ever say the word i'm ticklish or I hate being tickled? Thanks for sharing.

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Thank you!

She would have been in her mid-thirties at the time, and she's been a petite 5'3" for about as long as I can remember lol.

It didn't happen that specific time, but I'm almost positive I got her to say something along the lines of "I love being tickled" or "I'm a ticklish little baby" or something to that effect, at one point or another.

I know for a fact I got her to list all of her ticklish spots lol

Now that I'm this far down memory lane, I may need to revisit those ticklish feet the next chance I get lol. It's been a lonnnggg while since we last wrestled

I can’t go into detail due to the age rule, but between the ages of 12 and 15 I’d sometimes wrestle a friend’s mother and make her submit by tickling her nylon soles. Good times!

Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV

SmashTV said:

I can’t go into detail due to the age rule, but between the ages of 12 and 15 I’d sometimes wrestle a friend’s mother and make her submit by tickling her nylon soles. Good times!

Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV

Click to expand...

I hear ya!

Looking back, I realise now that me accidentally revealing to my aunt that I liked nylon feet was actually one of the best things to happen. Because she was quite worldly (in her own way), she chose not to scold me or tell my parents, at least not in great detail. She’d make the odd reference to it but never blatantly revealed that I’d give her secret foot tickles and massages. As I got older, she knew she was indulging me by letting me tickle her feet but never once let on that she knew - it was an almost unspoken truth, you know? We did discuss it once, and both agreed it could be ‘our thing’ despite it being...odd, but I’ll always be grateful to her for not only the indulgences, but for also helping me to accept and understand my kink.

Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV

SmashTV said:

Looking back, I realise now that me accidentally revealing to my aunt that I liked nylon feet was actually one of the best things to happen. Because she was quite worldly (in her own way), she chose not to scold me or tell my parents, at least not in great detail. She’d make the odd reference to it but never blatantly revealed that I’d give her secret foot tickles and massages. As I got older, she knew she was indulging me by letting me tickle her feet but never once let on that she knew - it was an almost unspoken truth, you know? We did discuss it once, and both agreed it could be ‘our thing’ despite it being...odd, but I’ll always be grateful to her for not only the indulgences, but for also helping me to accept and understand my kink.

Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV

Click to expand...

You are a blessed man, my friend.

I've never had an aunt or mother (or significant-other's mom) who thought of tickling as anything but torture. That's the bad news, the good news is because they were VERY ticklish...especially their nyloned feet.

I did come out to a significant-other early on (she noticed my...excitement...whenever we had a tickle-wrestling match). I then came out to several others over the years; none ran away, but very few wanted to make it part of our sex life. I didn't think asking someone to wear pantyhose once in a while was a big deal...but I guess it was. I've since remarried, and my current wife is all-in. Nylons all the time, and tickling is OK as long as I don't "cross the line".

Thanks for sharing that, Smash.

Here's a little something else to share with my nylon-loving brothers:

https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=KKLT5TEM9tU

You’re welcome, bud. I don’t have the tickling/nylon aspect in my personal life that you do (my partner isn’t ticklish, rarely wears tights and doesn’t get the kink), so I’d say it’s you who’s blessed. With my aunt, it could have easily gone the other way and she’d be appalled by me enjoying her nylon feet, but thankfully it all came good. She passed away about seven years ago, but I think she’d have been okay with one last indulgence - of epic proportions! - before we both got too old for it! I’ve certainly imagined it...

Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV

SmashTV said:

Looking back, I realise now that me accidentally revealing to my aunt that I liked nylon feet was actually one of the best things to happen. Because she was quite worldly (in her own way), she chose not to scold me or tell my parents, at least not in great detail. She’d make the odd reference to it but never blatantly revealed that I’d give her secret foot tickles and massages. As I got older, she knew she was indulging me by letting me tickle her feet but never once let on that she knew - it was an almost unspoken truth, you know? We did discuss it once, and both agreed it could be ‘our thing’ despite it being...odd, but I’ll always be grateful to her for not only the indulgences, but for also helping me to accept and understand my kink.

Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV

Click to expand...

I really can relate to your final sentence, Smash. In my case, it was not an aunt but my Mother-in-Law who not only indulged my foot tickling fetish but actually encouraged it! She was not wildly ticklish - in fact, in the beginning, she insisted she was not ticklish at all. But she loved it! Whenever we were alone, she would slip off her shoes or slippers and place her soles temptingly near me. Our tickling sessions could last anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour. But she insisted that it remain "our secret". I sometimes got the feeling she enjoyed the clandestine aspect of it almost as much as she loved the feelings of my fingers gliding over her soles. And, on reflection, I realize that I found her willingness and encouragement almost as erotic as her moans of pleasure. She preferred to be tickled barefoot (my choice as well) and it only once went beyond her feet and lower legs but it became the dominating tickling experience of my life. It lasted 15 years. It didn't bring me out of the closet but it helped me in coming to terms with my desires.

kibdos said:

I really can relate to your final sentence, Smash. In my case, it was not an aunt but my Mother-in-Law who not only indulged my foot tickling fetish but actually encouraged it! She was not wildly ticklish - in fact, in the beginning, she insisted she was not ticklish at all. But she loved it! Whenever we were alone, she would slip off her shoes or slippers and place her soles temptingly near me. Our tickling sessions could last anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour. But she insisted that it remain "our secret". I sometimes got the feeling she enjoyed the clandestine aspect of it almost as much as she loved the feelings of my fingers gliding over her soles. And, on reflection, I realize that I found her willingness and encouragement almost as erotic as her moans of pleasure. She preferred to be tickled barefoot (my choice as well) and it only once went beyond her feet and lower legs but it became the dominating tickling experience of my life. It lasted 15 years. It didn't bring me out of the closet but it helped me in coming to terms with my desires.

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This is actually sounds awesome. Can you share some story with us?

I don't really know if it counts as it wasn't a mom or aunt. Rather a friend of my father and his wife stayed with us awhile.
She was in her 30s. Party girl type even at that age and me a teen. I somehow got into a wrestling match with her and I was easily overpowered. She was quite strong and I was a scrawny teen. She had me pinned. So I grabbed her foot and started tickling. At first nothing. But after a few seconds her foot started wiggling and she began squealing and laughing.
Broke free of my grip and got off me and lightly glared at me with this smirk on her face before she pounced on my again. But kept her feet away. I tried in vain to tickle her upper body. But it had no effect. She got me in a headlock and made me tap. But I did go after her feet any chance I got after that.

Tell us the other times! Was she barefoot ��

This story details the first time I tickled my aunt's bare feet. This is significant as I’m primarily a nylon tickling guy, but also because my aunt and I discussed my tickling fetish! It was the summer of 1998, I was 23 and was home from university. My aunt was visiting, and as ever I was hopeful for a chance to tickle her feet. However, as it was the height of summer I knew the chances of her wearing tights were next to zero! As it was, the tickling happened almost immediately! Despite it being early evening my parents were both asleep (my Mum was in bed, my Dad asleep in an armchair), essentially leaving my aunt and I alone. I can't remember how it began, I may have asked my aunt to rub my neck, as it was genuinely sore. She obliged, and started saying how she loved being 'rubbed down'!

'I love having my back rubbed and tickled! Oh, and my FEET! I love having my feet played with....' she said, letting it hang in the air.

'Well, I know all about that, don't I?', I replied, smiling and winking at her as she laughed in agreement.

As she did, I bent down and picked up her bare feet, her toes painted with chipped electric blue nail varnish on them, and proceeded to rub and tickle them for her. She sighed happily as she allowed me to tickle her feet, and so without warning I suddenly really let loose on her bare soles! My fingers raced from her toes to her heels, my aunt smiling and giggling as my fingers went crazy! She initially leaned back further into the chair but, after a frenzied ten seconds of tickling, suddenly pulled her feet back.

‘No no, stop it, that's too good!'

WOAH! Too good?

So not only does she love having her feet slowly tickled....but fast tickled as well? Game on!

I often found myself alone with my aunt that week, and while I didn't always go for her feet, I had one great moment which has stayed in my mind since. We were talking in the garden, with my aunt sunbathing on a mat. She said that while she liked sunbathing she always worried about spiders. She was in shorts and t-shirt (not a swimsuit, that would be too much!), so I gave her a quick spider tickle on her ribs, teasing her about the 'spiders'. She flinched, and got up to sit on a chair. I apologised and said I'd make it up to her, and from the floor began to slowly tickle her feet. I increased and reduced the speed of the tickling, and was amazed at how soft her feet were....but sadly she pulled away after a while, saying it 'wasn't fair on me to have to do that'.

Caught up in the moment, and probably being a bit of a nuisance with hindsight, I pulled up a chair and sat opposite my aunt, pulling her bare feet onto my lap.

‘Oh, I don’t mind!’ I said, noticing that my aunt and I were both holding each other’s gaze.

My aunt stopped me again though, saying that it 'Wasn't a good idea'.

I was worried I’d gone too far, but after a brief silence my aunt asked what it was I liked about feet. She said she knew why people could get excited about shoes, but not feet. Not quite believing we were having this conversation I opened up, explaining how I’d had a foot fetish since I was about five, how it was only for nylon feet and not bare, how I liked massaging and tickling feet, how my aunt had been my first indulgence a few years before and how much I liked tickling her feet as I knew she enjoyed it. Once I’d begun I didn’t feel awkward telling my aunt anything and everything, and she seemed genuinely interested and curious. She knew I liked feet already, but now she knew my history! The fact she asked and listened was very reassuring, as it told me she understood my kink, which in turn helped me understand it.

It was just ironic that, despite all of the previous and future nylon tickling encounters I’d have with my aunt, we had such a conversation whilst I was tickling her bare feet!

Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV

SmashTV said:

...
Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV

Click to expand...

Great story! Thanks for sharing your experience here.

Smash, it's great your aunt was so accepting of you like that. Sometimes you need somebody like that in your ife to better understand and accept yourself.

My Willing Mother-in-Law

I hope this is the appropriate thread for this contribution, since it is not strictly about a Mom or an Aunt. It is a true story. Everything happened exactly as I have described it.

Her feet weren’t as sexy as her daughter’s and she might not be as ticklish, but that was just the problem. My (then) future wife, Em, was so ticklish that she became angry whenever I grabbed her feet. Arguments rather than lovemaking always followed. I had long-range plans to change that but, for the moment, with Em going barefoot all the time and me in a constant state of excitement, I needed a stop-gap ticklee. And with Gloria – the woman who became my mother-in-law – it might be different.

My future father-in-law was an idiot, and for Gloria, her marriage was rather passionless. I certainly wasn’t setting out to seduce her, but the tickling side of my sexuality needed a release. The two questions were, "Was she ticklish?" and "Would she go along without telling everyone?"

Gloria not telling was important to me. I wasn’t out of the closet with my foot tickling preference (fifty years later, I’m still not), and I didn’t want a reputation as the local pervert. At that time (the 60’s), I thought I was alone in my tastes. It never occurred to me that there might be other guys out there who felt the same as I did. Also, I had managed to tickle assorted aunts and even some friends’ mothers. Since Em and I lived in the same area, I was worried that the secret might get out. So, I had to go carefully.

Gloria rarely went barefoot but, after working all day, she always slipped out of her shoes and stockings and into slippers or sandals. These offered tantalizing glimpses of her feet and would be no problem to take off. In fact, they often slipped off on their own accord. I had the means in my fingers and I sure as hell had the motive in my mind. All I needed was the opportunity.

It came one night when Em was in her bedroom on the phone to one of her friends. I was in the kitchen table alcove and Gloria was sitting across from me. As we talked, I played absentmindedly with a pencil, which I then let fall to the floor. “I’ll get it,” I said quickly as I dived under the table. I pushed the pencil towards her feet in case she looked underneath. Her feet were tucked under her chair, the toes of her left foot on the floor. Her narrow-strapped sandals, half-off, hid nothing. This was the closest I had ever been to her feet. They were high arched, wide, with short, nicely shaped toes – just my taste.

“Do you see it?” she asked.

“Got it,” I replied. Then I picked up the pencil and, reaching out, ran the tip down her bare right arch. She yelped once and pulled her foot back. I got back into my chair, and she grinned across at me, saying nothing. And when Em came back to the kitchen, Gloria said nothing to her, either. So, it seemed she was ticklish. That was good news. And she didn’t get angry or tell anyone. That was even better. Step One accomplished.

But the next few steps brought confusion rather than insight. I tickled her twice, both briefly, both when she was in stockings. The first time, she didn’t react at all. The second time, she yelped again. “What is going on?” I thought to myself. “Was she ticklish or not?” I was determined to find out.

I was in my second year of university at the time and had some mornings off. My girlfriend was in her last year of High School and had no free time at all. I found out that Tuesday was Gloria’s day off from the restaurant and so I turned up one morning, asking to look at some encyclopedias. No one in Gloria’s family had much education and she didn’t realize that university students don’t consult mundane sources, so it seemed a reasonable request to her.

Fresh from a shower, she was still in a bright pink housecoat and – My God – she was barefoot! “I’m not leaving this place,” I promised myself, “until I give this woman a real hard tickling.” I pulled the books from the shelf and spread them around me on the floor. Instead of sitting, as I had hoped, she stood right next to me. But she stood on her left leg and crossed her right foot over balanced on her toes. Her bare right sole was only inches from my hand. I pretended to turn the pages while I gazed at her delicious sole, imagining my fingers tickling the soft skin. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore.

Without looking up, I reached over and lightly ran one finger from her toes down into her arch and back again. She didn’t move. I stroked her again. She still didn’t move, and she said nothing. I looked up and her large brown eyes were sparkling at me. She grinned and winked.

“I’m not ticklish,” she said. She kept her foot in place and I kept tickling her gently.

“You’re not?”

“Nope.” Then she walked across the hall to her bedroom, sat down on the corner of the bed and stretched out her feet in front of her, her ankles crossed, one heel resting on the floor, both soles facing me. “You can tickle my feet all day and it wouldn’t bother me.” Only later would I realize that this was an invitation to do just that. Only even later would she admit that she stood next to me that way, hoping I would tickle her feet. But I had never met a woman who wanted to be tickled – and, in addition, I was very nervous. I didn’t want to wreck my relationship with Em or her mother. So, I missed the hints and left, frustrated. Again, Gloria said nothing to her daughter.

Later in the month, I went over once more. Housedress this time and light canvas slip-on shoes. She sat nearby while I was working, her legs crossed, her right shoe dangling on the tips of her toes. I still couldn’t bring myself to believe she was doing it deliberately. During the hour I was there, I tickled her briefly, in a teasing way, three times, each time getting a cheerful squeal and the mock-indignant words, “I’m not ticklish! I told you.” But she didn’t seem to mind it and – again – said nothing to her daughter.

Two weeks after that, it happened: the incident that changed our entire relationship. I went over to borrow one of her husband’s many tape recorders. He was like a child with his toys and would have flipped if he knew that I was using one of them. Gloria shrugged and said, “We’ll just keep it between us.” She was wearing a housedress again and the ugliest, heaviest slippers that I had ever seen, completely hiding her feet. I was in sandals that I kicked off when I came in.

I followed her upstairs to the crowded room where her husband kept his junk. She stood at the door, waved in the general direction of the recorders, and said, “Help yourself. I’ve got dishes to do.” I went in and knelt beside the scattered machines. “She seems distracted,” I thought, “and not in the best of moods. No action today.” But I was aware that she hadn’t gone downstairs. She stood watching me from the doorway. What I didn’t know then was that she was making up her mind. Suddenly, she was behind me and this time it was her hands on my feet!

“Tickle, tickle, tickle!” she laughed. Though I’m not ticklish, I jumped in surprise. Then she added, “It serves you right!” As she said this, she stepped slowly passed me, carefully picking her way through the mess of recorders. Again, only later did I realize that she was giving me an opportunity to grab her feet. But I missed my chance.

“It doesn’t serve me right,” I protested. “Why does it serve me right?”

There was a leather armchair and large footstool in front of me. She settled into the chair and slowly put both of her feet on the stool, inches from my hands. “Well, you tickle my feet and I’m not ticklish.”

I looked at her for a moment, stunned. She looked back with a teasing smile. “My God!” I realized with a shock, “She wants it! She’s asking to be tickled!” I deliberately pushed one of the recorders out of the way. She grinned, knowing what was coming. Returning her smile, I said, “You’re not?”

“Nope.” Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief. This mature woman was flirting like a teenager!

I lunged.

She squealed as my left arm wrapped tightly around her ankles and my right hand swept off her slippers. I began tickling her bare feet hard, my fingers digging into her soft soles. She laughed, saying over and over, “I’m not… I’m not… I’m not!”. But she wasn’t struggling. Her laughter then subsided to elated little squeaks and occasional – surprising - moans of pleasure. I took a risk and released her ankles. To my relief, she didn’t pull away but kept her feet on the stool. Now I able to use both hands and, realizing she wasn’t fighting me, my tickling slowed to light, lingering caresses. She arched her feet and spread her toes as my fingers ran between them. Her squeaks of protest diminished but the long, drawn-out sighs of enjoyment increased.

If this was fiction, I would now start sucking her toes and she would have loved it. Since this is a true story, I didn’t have the nerve – I had never kissed a woman’s feet before, anyway - and she would have been shocked at such intimacy. It would have blown everything. Besides, I was having enough fun.

I am both a foot-lover and a tickler. But, up to this moment, all my tickling had been hard struggles - grasping a girl’s bucking ankle, scrambling my fingers over a writhing sole, laughing protests filling my ears. I had never done slow, sensuous tickling before, with a woman whose only noises were encouraging sounds of delight. The electric feeling between my fingertips and her soft skin was incredible. My hungry eyes roamed over her soles, probing the curves and wrinkles just as my fingers were doing.

I doubt she had ever heard about foot fetishes: She was very religious, quite inhibited, trapped in what seemed a loveless marriage, and this was the mid 1960’s. It probably never occurred to her then that the tickling was sexual - but she must have known I was enjoying myself.

Both my hands were now focused on her right foot, my left playing with her toes, my right lightly tickling her arch. I looked up at her. She smiled. “It feels good….but I’m not ticklish.”

“But it feels good?” I asked encouragingly.

Like an offering, she raised her left foot and spread her toes invitingly. “Sure….Try the other one.”

It was the beginning of a fifteen-year foot-tickling “affair”. And she never told anyone.

Fantastic smash and kibdos

Great story, kibdos! Thanks for sharing your experience here.

Fantastic story Kibdos

Brilliant story Kibdos, thank you for sharing it here. And over a fifteen year period too? You lucky guy!

How did the future encounters begin? Would you just start tickling her feet when you were alone, or would she encourage you to do it?

Cheers, everybody,
SmashTV

kibdos said:

Both my hands were now focused on her right foot, my left playing with her toes, my right lightly tickling her arch. I looked up at her. She smiled. “It feels good….but I’m not ticklish.”

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Thanks for sharing, kibdos. I remember your stories from over on the TT and I'm glad to see you still part of the community. Please share more if you feel so inclined.