dahoochman
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Sep 16, 2002
- Messages
- 488
- Points
- 63
Finally had time to finish writing one of my stories. Enjoy!
Carl and my wife
M/F Feet, Legs, Nylons
It was a chilly early winter Friday in the Northeast. I was already looking forward to my weekend in Atlantic City with my wife. I glanced at the clock on the wall, it was 4:00 pm, almost time to go home. I picked up the phone to call my beautiful 49 yearwife.
“Hey, ready to have fun tonight?” I asked.
“Oh God yes, after the week I had I need this!” she replied.
“OK, Good! Hey, what were you going to wear tonight?” I asked.
“Hmmm, how about that blue denim dress you like?” she replied. “The one I wore last month.”
“Mmmmm, yes, love that on you! With some stockings and heels!” I said with excitement.
“How did I know you were going to say that?” she replied with a laugh. “Of course, silly!”
“Oh, and don’t forget the hot-wife anklet I got you!” I said with a laugh.
We spoke for another minute and then ended the call. I looked at the clock. It was now 4:02 pm. Time was crawling! With almost 30 minutes left to go at work and nothing left to do I decided to check on the TMF and see what was happening.
I logged in and immediately saw the message in my inbox. Opening it, it was a lengthy note from a fellow long-time TMF-er named Carl. Carl had commented on many of my posts in the past, but this was his first time messaging me directly. Carl was a 45-year-old man from Delaware County, Pennsylvania. Carl was single, never married, and lived alone. He worked doing customer support overnights for a large Internet provider. He described himself in detail and included a picture. He was average height, extremely overweight – almost 350 pounds, and had very short brown hair with a bald spot. He wore glasses and looked very much like your typical computer nerd. Due to his weight, looks, and work schedule, he had trouble meeting women, so the TMF was his outlet for his sexual fantasies.
He seemed nice enough, just lonely. He wrote an entire paragraph about how he had been picked on most of his life, and never really had a girlfriend. Growing up kids made fun of him and called him names like fatso and lard ass. He mentioned that he had been following my posts for a long time and especially loved all the stories and pics I posted of my wife and found her to be incredibly sexy. He described her as his “dream girl.” Although he loved all of the pics I had shared of my wife, he especially loved the pics of her stocking encased feet. He said one particular picture was driving him crazy – it was a pic of her in a blue denim dress and black sheer nylons that I had taken the month prior. He said he had fantasies of pinning her down in that outfit and tickling her feet. He also said that he knew it was unlikely but would love to meet us and buy us dinner or drinks and just hang out. He ended his note by saying that he hoped I didn’t find him to be weird and hoped to hear back from me regardless.
Feeling sorry for him, I replied that I did not think he was weird, and that I received many messages from men just like him. I thanked him for the kind words and started to end the message when a thought hit me. Instead of ending the note there, I replied “Hey, we will be at Harrah’s in Atlantic City tonight. We usually end up at the lounge by the casino where they have live music. My wife will be wearing that blue dress that you like so much. Feel free to say hi.”
As soon as I hit ‘Send’ I got a weird feeling. What if he actually showed up? What would we do? He had a picture ofmywife, so he knew what she looked like. Then I quickly dismissed the thought as paranoia. Who would drive over 2 hours to meet someone based on a message from a fetish web site?
I arrived home and hurried in. My wife was in the bathroom in just her bra and black nylons getting ready. Standing 5’4 in her stocking feet, she was running a straightener through her long dirty blonde hair. I ran up to her, kissed her, and ran to our bedroom to change.
I threw on more comfortable clothes, brushed my teeth and hair, a splash of cologne, and walked back to the bathroom where my wife was finishing her makeup. The blue eyeshadow she chose accentuated her beautiful blue eyes. The red lipstick she was applying made her lips more alluring. I looked her up and down. “God, damn you look great!” I said with a smile.
“Oh stop, you just like seeing me in stockings!” she said with a smile.
“And what’s wrong with that?” I replied with a smile as I grabbed her ass.
“Go away, let me finish, or we’ll never make it to AC!” she said with a smile.
I sat on the couch and waited. About 10 minutes later she came out, hair and makeup done, in her denim dress. She grabbed a pair of black ankle boots from the closet and sat to put them on.
She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror and I saw her choice in shoes and spoke up. “Hey, what about those sexy slides you have, you know the black ones with the chunky heel?”
“Why, don’t you like these boots? You liked them last time I wore them.” she said.
“No, I do like them, but if you’re going to dance maybe you want something that you can slip off easier?” I suggested.
“Oh, ok, yes that’s a good idea!” she said and sat, slipping her boots off. She went back to the closet and grabbed the black slides I suggested.
“Wow, that looks fucking hot!” I said with a smile.
“You just like seeing my feet!” she replied.
“You know I do!” I replied, as we made our way to the car.
Traffic was heavy that evening, and the normal 90-minute ride took almost 2 hours. We got to Harrah’s, parked the car and checked in at the hotel desk. As walked through the lobby I looked around to see if Carl was there, but did not see him. My wife noticed me looking around. “What are you looking for?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing.” I said and started to walk to the elevators.
“No seriously, who were you looking for?” she asked. “Are you looking for someone from that web site you go on?” she asked. My deer-in-the-headlights look must have given me away.
We got to the elevators and pressed the ‘UP’ button and just stood there. My wife stood there glaring at me, knowing I was up to something.
“Well, were you!?” she asked, in an annoyed tone.
The elevator doors opened, and we got in. As soon as the doors closed, I replied. “OK, yes, I was.”
“Great!” she replied sarcastically. “So, some weirdo from that web site is here?” she continued. “What if he’s a crazy person Hun, what if he is a serial killer or something?”
The elevator doors opened, and we walked out. Our room was 2 doors from the elevator. I opened the door, and we walked in. As soon as the door closed, I replied.
“Listen, he’s probably not here.”
“So that’s why you were so interested in what I was wearing! What, did you tell him what I was going to wear? Or did you show him a picture?” she asked.
“Well…….”
“Oh God Hun! Now I have to worry all night!” she said, throwing her purse on the bed. “Now I can’t even go to the bathroom alone! I have to worry that some guy from that web site you go on is going to kidnap me or worse!” she said, as she opened her overnight bag and started putting her clothes away. “We’ve discussed this! You know I don’t like this!” she said in an annoyed tone.
“Ok come here” I said, pulling my phone out. I opened the message Carl sent me and handed her the phone. “Here, read this”.
My wife sat there intently and read the messages from Carl, and my replies back to him. She looked at me and then read them again. “Oh, the poor guy.” she said.
“Hun, he’s probably not even here. Most guys from that site are all talk.” I explained.
Looking at Carl’s picture on the phone, and re-reading his email, she sat back on the bed, crossed her legs and replied. “Aww he must be lonely.” After a few seconds she continued. “Poor guy, you’re right, he is probably harmless. Still, I wish you wouldn’t do that!”
“I’m sorry” I said. “You know that’s been a fantasy of mine for a long time. This guy seemed harmless enough so...”
“I know sweetie, and I want to make all of your fantasies come true. Mybe someday, ok?”
I smiled, she smiled, and we hugged. “Wow, ok. Ready to gamble?” I asked, trying to change subjects. She nodded, and we made our way down to the casino floor.
We played the tables for about an hour, then headed over to the bar where the band was setting up. We grabbed a couch on the far side of the bar with a nice view of the stage and the dance floor. We ordered drinks and got comfortable. As we chatted, I found myself looking around to see if Carl was there. No sign of him.
The band came on at 9:30 sharp, and the bar quickly filled as the band started playing. My wife quickly downed 2 glasses of wine, and I had 2 beers. When the waitress came over my wife ordered a Long Island Iced Tea. I looked at her as she ordered. “Wow, someone’s not fooling around tonight huh?” She smiled back at me. When my wife wants to just hang she drinks wine, but when she wants to have “fun” she drinks hard stuff. That’s when "Fun Sharon," as I call her, comes out to play!
The band broke into a Bon Jovi song and my wife quickly scooted to the dance floor. The dance floor quickly filled with people bopping up and down. I sat on the couch, drinking a beer, watching my wife dance up a storm. As I did, I scanned the room, first the dance floor, and then the bar area. That’s when I spotted him.
Carl was standing by the bar, leaning on a column that supported the bar overhang. He had what looked like a soda in his hand. He was wearing tan khakis and a green polo shirt with “Cisco” on it. He looked a little shorter and a lot heavier than he described, but his face and hair style was the same. He was staring at my wife on the dance floor. It was definitely him.
The song ended and my wife came back to the couch, sitting next to me. She fell back against the couch cushion, breathless, and grabbed her drink. Crossing her legs, she chugged her Long Island Iced Tea.
“Easy Hun!” I said. “You know what those do to you!”
She finished the drink and waved at the waitress, pointing to her glass and mouthing “another one”. The waitress gave her a thumbs up.
“Oh my god” she said. “This is so much fun!” she said with a huge smile. She recrossed her legs, her dress riding up, revealing most of her stocking covered thighs.
I reached over and tried to fix her dress. “Hun, fix your dress” I said. She pushed my hand away.
“Will you stop! You told me you like when men look at my legs!” she said with a wry smile. “Besides, look at some of those young thin girls out there, no one is looking at me, believe me!”
Well, one person WAS looking at her. Carl. I looked at him across the room, and his eyes were fixed on her.
The waitress returned with another L.I.T. for my wife and she quickly started to chug it. I could tell the alcohol was kicking in, and sexy fun Sharon was definitely coming out.
The band started to play another song my wife liked, and she popped up like a teenager. “Oh my god I love this song!” she exclaimed. “Dance with me!” she said, looking at me, but I was not paying attention, I was watching Carl. My wife, noticing me looking toward the bar, looked that way herself and spotted Carl.
“Oh my God is that him?” she asked, motioning with her head.
“I think so” I said, now looking at my wife and trying not to be obvious about what we were talking about.
“Really!” she said with an evil smile. She chugged the rest of her L.I.T. and put her glass down. “Let’s see if he wants to dance with me!” Before I could say or do anything, my wife made a beeline across the bar area towards Carl. She walked right up to him, extended her hand, and asked him to dance. I could tell he was trying to say no, but when Sharon gets like this there is no telling her no. She took his hand and dragged him to the dance floor. He stood there, swaying back and forth awkwardly and my wife danced and sang to him.
The waitress returned, and I asked for another beer, and another L.I.T. for my wife. I also asked the waitress to bring me another of whatever Carl was drinking. She looked at him and said, “Yeah he’s just drinking soda, I’ll bring one.”
My attention returned to the dance floor, and the song had ended, and my wife was dragging Carl by the hand across the dance floor towards me. Sharon stopped when she reached the couch. “Hun, this is Carl! He was dancing with me.”
To this point we had not spoke in person, and Carl had never seen me before. I stood up and quickly noticed I was a good 4 to 5 inches taller than Carl. I extended my hand and gave him a firm handshake. “Hi Carl, I’m Joe, nice to meet you.” Carl shook my hand and nodded, avoiding eye contact with me.
My wife sat in the middle of the couch to my right, crossing her legs seductively, left over right. Carl’s eyes went right to her legs and feet. “Carl, will you join us?” she asked, patting the end of couch to her right. Carl smiled and nodded yes and sat. As he sat, my wife’s left foot bounced up and down in front of him. I could tell this had Carl flustered, and that he was a bit shy.
The waitress returned and put our drinks down. Carl nervously reached for his soda, his hand just avoiding my wife’s left foot as it bounced up and down in front of him, shoe dangling from her toe. She looked at me and smiled, she knew exactly what she was doing. She picked up her drink, as did I, and said “Cheers!” in a pleasant tone. The three of us lifted our glasses, and then drank our drinks as the band broke into another song my wife liked.
Quickly popping up, my wife chugged her drink, leaving only a mouthful or two in the glass as she hurried to the dance floor. “Are you coming?” she said, looking at me.
“No, I’m going to chat with Carl and enjoy my drink” I said with a smile.
“You two are party poopers!” she said, quickly turning and heading to the dance floor. I looked at Carl, and he looked at me.
“We finally meet” I said, raising my glass to him.
“Does she know anything?” he asked curiously.
“Um, no, not really” I said, hiding the truth. “She knows I talk to people on TMF, but that’s the extent of it. Why, did she say anything to you?” I asked.
“Oh, no, not at all. She just seems so happy, the life of the party.”
“Well yeah” I replied. “The alcohol does that to her!”
“Well, she’s killing me with that out fit and her legs and feet.” He said, as he finished his soda.
I started to reply, but Carl motioned with his eyes, and I turned to see my wife coming back to the couch. “Hi Hun!” I said.
Looking out of breath, my wife plopped on the couch. “Oh my God this is so much fun!” she exclaimed, picking up her drink and chugging the last few mouthfuls. “My feet are on fire, I need to get these shoes off!” she said, and with that she slipped her stocking encased size 8 feet out of her shoes, resting her exposed soles on the carpet. “Oh my God that feels so much better!” she said, now slumping on the couch. As she sat, she curled her toes, the red toenail polish displaying nicely through the sheer barely black nylon material. Carl’s eyes were glued to her now exposed feet. Sharon then lifted her right foot off the floor, resting it on the corner of the low table that our drinks were on, her hot-wife gold anklet shimmering over the sheer black nylon.
“Hun” I said, “Did you show Carl the ankle bracelet I got you?”
“No, I didn’t” she replied matter-of-factly. “See!” she said, lifting her foot off the table and resting her lower right leg on Carl’s left thigh, her foot directly in front of him now.
I leaned forward to see Carl sitting there stunned. His eyes were glued to my wife’s right foot as she curled her toes. After several seconds he looked in our direction, and softly said “Oh, very nice.”
My wife took the opportunity to turn slightly, her back now leaning in to my right side, facing Carl. She motioned for the waitress. She then lifted her left foot and rested it on Carl’s leg as well.
“Hun” I said, maybe Carl doesn’t want your feet on him?” I asked, knowing full well he was loving this.
“Oh stop, if it bothered him, he would say something right Carl?” she asked with that huge smile of hers that could melt most men. Carl continued to sit there, staring at my wife’s feet. Seemingly afraid to move.
The waitress returned, handing my wife yet another L.I.T. that she immediately started to pound. “Hun” I said softly, “Maybe you should slow down, you know what those do to you?”
“Oh stop” she said, “I’m fine!” and with that she continued sipping her drink. I looked at the waitress and made the “She’s done” sign with my hand and took my drink.
The band played another song, and my wife sat there, shaking her feet back and forth to the beat of the song, as Carl could only sit there and stare at her feet. My wife looked at Carl, then looked at me and winked. I knew right then and there that she was up to something.
She reached down and picked up her shoes. “I know you love these shoes on me” she said to me, holding the shoes up, “But they kill my feet! I think you owe me a foot rub later! But I know how much you hate rubbing my feet so….” she said, smiling, as she dropped the shoes back on the floor.
“I always rub your feet!” I replied.
“Not always!” she said, turning to look at Carl. “Or, maybe Carl can rub my feet?”
Carl looked at her and then me. “Oh, no, I couldn’t…” he replied, stumbling over his words.
Reaching for his arm, my wife gently rubbed his arm from shoulder to elbow. “What if I say please?” she said, making a cute pouty face.
With that I stood up to go to the men’s room. “Go ahead buddy, save me the trouble!” I said with a smile. My wife made a face and smacked my arm, feigning anger.
“Are you sure?” Carl said looking at me first, then my wife.
“We are sure!” my wife said with a big smile. I smiled and started to walk away when I heard my wife say, “Just be gentle, my feet are sooooo sensitive!” As I walked away all I could think of was how badly my wife was teasing this poor guy.
I got close to the men’s room, and I turned to take one last look before I walked in and out of sight. Carl was leaning forward, caressing the tops of my wife’s feet very slowly and gently, his gaze laser focused on her silky feet. My wife was just sitting there, smiling. I wen in the bathroom and looked at my watch. I decided I would give them a few minutes alone.
Back on the couch my wife was cooing in delight. “Mmmm Carl, that feels soooo nice!” she exclaimed, now leaning back against the couch, her eyes closed. “Now squeeze my feet” she asked, and Carl replied, his big hands surrounding her feet and gently squeeing. “Oh, yesssss!” she moaned softly. After squeezing her feet, Carl started to caress the sides of her feet, allowing one hand to caress the bottom of her right foot. My wife giggled and kicked slightly. “Tickles!” she said. Carl’s face lit up.
“Really?” he asked.
“Oh god yes, I am soooo ticklish!” my wife said, now rubbing her feet together.
“Sorry, I will be more careful” said Carl, resuming his squeezing and rubbing of her feet.
“You’re going to put me to sleep” she cooed, eyes closed again.
I returned 10 minutes later to find my wife’s legs still resting on Carl’s leg, and Carl gently squeezing her feet as she slept. The bulge in his khakis told me he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
I smiled at Carl and shook my wife’s arm. “Hun?” I said. “Hun?” She did not reply. I looked at Carl. “See, I knew this would happen. She drinks too much too quick and then is done for the night.”
“She was just talking to me a few minutes before you got back” said Carl, as he gently lifted her legs off his leg and put her feet on the floor. “Is she ok?” he asked.
“She’s fine, she just needs to go to sleep.” I said, putting my arms under her and lifting her to her feet. “Come on hun, time to go to bed” I said, and my wife mumbled something incoherent back, now standing very unsteadily. I put my right arm around her holding her up and started to guide her slowly to the elevator. Looking back at Carl I said, “Hey can you grab her shoes, coat and bag?” He nodded yes and quickly grabbed the items, following us to the elevator.
As we walked, I noticed dirty looks from a few women, and several men looking down at my wife’s exposed stocking feet. Slowly we walked to the elevator, my wife on unsteady legs, as I supported her, Carl close behind. We got the elevator and pressed the ‘UP’ button. The elevator arrived and we made our way to our floor. In the elevator my wife apologized “I’m sorry hun, I’m sorry” she said, eyes half open. We arrived at our floor and walked the short distance to our room. I opened the door and guided my wife to the bed. As she lied down Carl put her coat, bag and shoes on the desk in the corner, and stood there watching as my wife grabbed the beds top blanket and wrapped herself in it, curled up in a fetal position.
I looked at Carl. “Hey, thanks man, I appreciate it. She drank a little too much.” As I finished speaking my wife moaned.
“Hun, I don’t feel good!” she said. Quickly I ran to the bathroom and grabbed the garbage can, placing it on the bed by her.
“Here, just in case.” I said.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, just need to rest for a few minutes.” My wife mumbled before closing her eyes again.
“Oh fuck!” I said, looking at Carl. “I forgot to pay the bar bill!”
“I’ll go pay it.” Offered Carl.
“No, no, no you only drank soda. She had like 5 mixed drinks, and I had like 5 beers.” I said. “I’m going to run down and find that waitress and take care of it, do you mind sitting with her for like 10 minutes until I get back?” I asked, hoping Carl would take the bait. “I mean, I don’t think she is going to get sick, she never does, but just in case.”
Carl looked at the bed, then looked at me. “Sure, um, OK, yeah go ahead.” He stammered nervously.
“Cool, thanks man, I won’t be long!” I said, hurrying out of the room. As I was leaving I glanced back, ad Carl had grabbed the desk chair and pulled it over toward the bed where my wife was sleeping.
As soon as the door shut my wife called out. “Hun!” She called. “Hun?” Rolling around on the bed, she extended her legs, her nylon encased feet now poking out from the blanket she was wrapped in.
Carl glanced down at her exposed feet and stood up, walking to the side of the bed. “He’s not here Sharon, he went to pay the bar bill, he will be right back.”
Sharon rolled on to her stomach, now lying flat, legs extended, her now exposed feet hanging off the end of the bed, soles up. “Hun!” she said.
Carl caressed her cheek. “It’s ok, he’ll be back soon” he said, patting her back.
Carl looked down at the end of the bed. Sharon was now rotating her feet and rubbing her feet together. He couldn’t resist any longer.
"Sharon, do you want me to rub your feet?" he asked as he caressed her cheek.
"Mmmmmmmm" she replied. He took that as a 'Yes'.
He walked to the foot of the bed, pulling the desk chair over, and sat. Sharon’s exposed soles were inches from him. “Rub!!!” she moaned.
Carl extended one hand, grabbing her right foot and squeezing. Sharon immediately moaned in pleasure. Using both hands, he gently squeezed and rubbed her right foot. As he did, Sharon poked his hands with her free left foot. “This one too” she moaned.
Carl then started squeezing Sharon’s right foot, as her feet twisted, and she moaned softly. He then started to run his thumbs up and down her feet with pressure and Sharon squirmed.
After about a minute of this, he put her feet back down. Looking at her exposed silky soles, Carl could not help himself any longer. He took his index finger and traced his fingernail from her right heel to her right toes. The reaction was immediate.
Sharon giggled, shaking her foot. He repeated the process with her left foot, and got a more violent reaction, this time she actually lifted her foot off the bed and kicked, laughing as she did. “Tickles!” she muttered from the pillow.
A feeling of euphoria came over Carl. His dick was now rock hard from Sharon’s feet, which were lying on the bed in front of him, poking out from the blanket she had wrapped herself in. He knew he may never have an opportunity like this again. He stood up, pushed the chair back, and dropped to his knees, Sharon’s silky feet mere inches from his face, and with both hands started scratching her soles with his fingernails.
Sharon immediately burst into laughter, now lifting and kicking both feet. Her laughter only provoked Carl further, so he grabbed her right ankle with his left hand and furiously tickled up and down the bottom of her right foot, listening for any indication of her worst spots. When his fingers found the sensitive area just under her toes, she squealed loudly. He had found her worst spot!
Sharon’s feet were kicking furiously now, at one point almost kicking Carl in the face, so he briefly stopped tickling her feet and stood up. Sharon stopped laughing and was now breathing heavily. Carl looked at his clock, trying to estimate when I would be back. Then the phone in the room started ringing. “Carl, get that!” Sharon barked. Carl walked over and picked up the handset.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hey Carl, it’s me. I’m still trying to find our waitress, is my wife ok?” I asked.
“Yes, she’s fine, she keeps asking for you.” He said.
“That’s fine, she will fall asleep soon. If you don’t mind, can you hang out a little longer? The manager said she might be on a break, so as soon as she gets back I’ll pay the bill and be up. Maybe like 10-15 minutes more the most.’”
“Um, sure, fine.” said Carl. Hanging up the phone, Carl looked down at my wife’s feet and could not help himself anymore. He had to really tickle them.
He quickly ran to the door and put on the dead bolt and returned to the bed, where Sharon was breathing heavy, and struggling to get free from the blanket she was wrapped in. Moving quickly, Carl grabbed one of the pillows that had fallen off the bed and went to Sharons feet. Lifting her feet he placed the pillows under her feet, elevating them. He then quickly climbed on the bed, and threw his leg over Sharon, eventually ending up sitting on his knees straddling her legs facing her feet. He gently lowered his 350-pound frame on to Sharon’s lower legs, pinning her down. Her feet were trapped now, and he was going to give her the tickling of her life.
“What are you doing!” asked Sharon, squirming under Carl’s weight. With Carl sitting on her legs, and her body from her knees up wrapped in the blanket, she was unable to resist. “Listen, my husband will be back soon, you better not!”
“Better not what? This?” asked Carl sarcastically, as he traced a single finger up the bottom of Sharon’s helpless right foot.
Sharon immediately burst out into laughter. “Noooo! Don’t!” she said.
Carl then using a single fingernail on her other foot. “Don’t what?” he asked again. “Do this?” and he continued to slowly tickle the bottom of her feet.
“Carl!!!!” Sharon yelled, now thrashing under his weight. Feeling her legs move, Carl sat down on her legs with all his weight. “Oh, someone is strong!” he said mockingly. “Well now I’m going to teach you a lesson!” and with that he started to slowly trace his fingernails up and down the bottom of both of Sharon’s stockinged feet.
Sharon exploded in laughter, thrashing violently, as Carl continued his slow deliberate tickling of her feet. In between fits of crazed laughter, she managed to say “Noooooo!” and “Pleeeeease!” but Carl was merciless.
Carl gritted his teeth as he looked down at Sharon’s helpless soles, tickling her non-stop. His cock was throbbing now, he had never been more turned on. Sliding back on Sharon’s body so that he was now sitting on her upper legs, he leaned forward, lying on her legs, her stockinged feet now inches from his face, as he tickled both feet furiously.
Sharon pleaded for mercy, but Carl would not stop. At one point, her crazed laughter turned to silent laughter, and she started to gasp for air. Hearing this, Carl stopped tickling her feet and sat up. “Are you ok?” he asked
Breathing heavily, she replied. “Oh my god, Carl, please, stop, please!” she begged.
Looking down at her feet, Carl got an idea. “I wonder?” he said out loud, and lifted Sharon’s right leg, bending her leg at the knee, her foot inches from his chest. Using a fingernail, he ripped the nylons by her toes and peeled the delicate material back, exposing her toes.
“Carl, what are you doing?” Sharon asked. “Please don’t!” but it was too late.
Carl leaned down, his tongue licking Sharon’s toes as he held her ankle in a death grip, and she burst in to laughter again. “OH MY GOD!!”
Carl forced his tongue in between Sharon’s ultra-sensitive toes, eliciting squeals that could wake the dead. He then started sucking on her toes one by one as she laughed hysterically, her free left foot kicking the bed.
Realizing that I would be back to the room at any minute, Carl stopped and put Sharon’s feet down. He climbed off her legs, standing by the side of the bed, his cock bulging against his tan khakis. Sharon collapsed on the bed, trying to catch her breath. Carl walked up the top of the bed where Sharon lay face down and started patting her back. “Are you ok?” he asked.
“Yes” she mumbled. “I don’t think I have ever been tickled like that!” she exclaimed, rolling on her side as she tried to free herself from the blanket that trapped her.
“Are you mad?” Carl asked.
“No, but you better go before my husband gets back!” she said, now sitting up.
“OK” he said, walking toward the door. As he walked away, Sharon called to him.
“Hey!” she said. “Did you enjoy that?”
“Yes, I did! Can’t you tell!” he said, looking down at the bulge in his boxers.
“Good!” said Sharon with a smile. Carl made his way to the door and unlocked it, taking one last look back at Sharon as she sat on the bed.
“Thank you!” he said and left with a huge smile on his face.
Sharon grabbed the remote and put the TV on, wrapping herself in the blanket again. Five minutes later the door opened, I was back.
“Hey, someone is feeling better I see?” as I walked toward her with a big smile. “Where is Carl?”
“He left!” she replied. “And well, I guess I wasn’t quite as sick as I made out” said Sharon with a smile. Extending her legs, her feet popped out from under the blanket, exposing her one stockinged foot, and her other foot with the ripped nylons rolled back to expose her toes.
Looking down at her feet, I asked “Should I ask?”
Freeing her right hand from the blanket, she reached over and started to rub my cock through my jeans. “I’ll tell you all about it, after you fuck me!”
To be continued?
Carl and my wife
M/F Feet, Legs, Nylons
It was a chilly early winter Friday in the Northeast. I was already looking forward to my weekend in Atlantic City with my wife. I glanced at the clock on the wall, it was 4:00 pm, almost time to go home. I picked up the phone to call my beautiful 49 yearwife.
“Hey, ready to have fun tonight?” I asked.
“Oh God yes, after the week I had I need this!” she replied.
“OK, Good! Hey, what were you going to wear tonight?” I asked.
“Hmmm, how about that blue denim dress you like?” she replied. “The one I wore last month.”
“Mmmmm, yes, love that on you! With some stockings and heels!” I said with excitement.
“How did I know you were going to say that?” she replied with a laugh. “Of course, silly!”
“Oh, and don’t forget the hot-wife anklet I got you!” I said with a laugh.
We spoke for another minute and then ended the call. I looked at the clock. It was now 4:02 pm. Time was crawling! With almost 30 minutes left to go at work and nothing left to do I decided to check on the TMF and see what was happening.
I logged in and immediately saw the message in my inbox. Opening it, it was a lengthy note from a fellow long-time TMF-er named Carl. Carl had commented on many of my posts in the past, but this was his first time messaging me directly. Carl was a 45-year-old man from Delaware County, Pennsylvania. Carl was single, never married, and lived alone. He worked doing customer support overnights for a large Internet provider. He described himself in detail and included a picture. He was average height, extremely overweight – almost 350 pounds, and had very short brown hair with a bald spot. He wore glasses and looked very much like your typical computer nerd. Due to his weight, looks, and work schedule, he had trouble meeting women, so the TMF was his outlet for his sexual fantasies.
He seemed nice enough, just lonely. He wrote an entire paragraph about how he had been picked on most of his life, and never really had a girlfriend. Growing up kids made fun of him and called him names like fatso and lard ass. He mentioned that he had been following my posts for a long time and especially loved all the stories and pics I posted of my wife and found her to be incredibly sexy. He described her as his “dream girl.” Although he loved all of the pics I had shared of my wife, he especially loved the pics of her stocking encased feet. He said one particular picture was driving him crazy – it was a pic of her in a blue denim dress and black sheer nylons that I had taken the month prior. He said he had fantasies of pinning her down in that outfit and tickling her feet. He also said that he knew it was unlikely but would love to meet us and buy us dinner or drinks and just hang out. He ended his note by saying that he hoped I didn’t find him to be weird and hoped to hear back from me regardless.
Feeling sorry for him, I replied that I did not think he was weird, and that I received many messages from men just like him. I thanked him for the kind words and started to end the message when a thought hit me. Instead of ending the note there, I replied “Hey, we will be at Harrah’s in Atlantic City tonight. We usually end up at the lounge by the casino where they have live music. My wife will be wearing that blue dress that you like so much. Feel free to say hi.”
As soon as I hit ‘Send’ I got a weird feeling. What if he actually showed up? What would we do? He had a picture ofmywife, so he knew what she looked like. Then I quickly dismissed the thought as paranoia. Who would drive over 2 hours to meet someone based on a message from a fetish web site?
I arrived home and hurried in. My wife was in the bathroom in just her bra and black nylons getting ready. Standing 5’4 in her stocking feet, she was running a straightener through her long dirty blonde hair. I ran up to her, kissed her, and ran to our bedroom to change.
I threw on more comfortable clothes, brushed my teeth and hair, a splash of cologne, and walked back to the bathroom where my wife was finishing her makeup. The blue eyeshadow she chose accentuated her beautiful blue eyes. The red lipstick she was applying made her lips more alluring. I looked her up and down. “God, damn you look great!” I said with a smile.
“Oh stop, you just like seeing me in stockings!” she said with a smile.
“And what’s wrong with that?” I replied with a smile as I grabbed her ass.
“Go away, let me finish, or we’ll never make it to AC!” she said with a smile.
I sat on the couch and waited. About 10 minutes later she came out, hair and makeup done, in her denim dress. She grabbed a pair of black ankle boots from the closet and sat to put them on.
She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror and I saw her choice in shoes and spoke up. “Hey, what about those sexy slides you have, you know the black ones with the chunky heel?”
“Why, don’t you like these boots? You liked them last time I wore them.” she said.
“No, I do like them, but if you’re going to dance maybe you want something that you can slip off easier?” I suggested.
“Oh, ok, yes that’s a good idea!” she said and sat, slipping her boots off. She went back to the closet and grabbed the black slides I suggested.
“Wow, that looks fucking hot!” I said with a smile.
“You just like seeing my feet!” she replied.
“You know I do!” I replied, as we made our way to the car.
Traffic was heavy that evening, and the normal 90-minute ride took almost 2 hours. We got to Harrah’s, parked the car and checked in at the hotel desk. As walked through the lobby I looked around to see if Carl was there, but did not see him. My wife noticed me looking around. “What are you looking for?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing.” I said and started to walk to the elevators.
“No seriously, who were you looking for?” she asked. “Are you looking for someone from that web site you go on?” she asked. My deer-in-the-headlights look must have given me away.
We got to the elevators and pressed the ‘UP’ button and just stood there. My wife stood there glaring at me, knowing I was up to something.
“Well, were you!?” she asked, in an annoyed tone.
The elevator doors opened, and we got in. As soon as the doors closed, I replied. “OK, yes, I was.”
“Great!” she replied sarcastically. “So, some weirdo from that web site is here?” she continued. “What if he’s a crazy person Hun, what if he is a serial killer or something?”
The elevator doors opened, and we walked out. Our room was 2 doors from the elevator. I opened the door, and we walked in. As soon as the door closed, I replied.
“Listen, he’s probably not here.”
“So that’s why you were so interested in what I was wearing! What, did you tell him what I was going to wear? Or did you show him a picture?” she asked.
“Well…….”
“Oh God Hun! Now I have to worry all night!” she said, throwing her purse on the bed. “Now I can’t even go to the bathroom alone! I have to worry that some guy from that web site you go on is going to kidnap me or worse!” she said, as she opened her overnight bag and started putting her clothes away. “We’ve discussed this! You know I don’t like this!” she said in an annoyed tone.
“Ok come here” I said, pulling my phone out. I opened the message Carl sent me and handed her the phone. “Here, read this”.
My wife sat there intently and read the messages from Carl, and my replies back to him. She looked at me and then read them again. “Oh, the poor guy.” she said.
“Hun, he’s probably not even here. Most guys from that site are all talk.” I explained.
Looking at Carl’s picture on the phone, and re-reading his email, she sat back on the bed, crossed her legs and replied. “Aww he must be lonely.” After a few seconds she continued. “Poor guy, you’re right, he is probably harmless. Still, I wish you wouldn’t do that!”
“I’m sorry” I said. “You know that’s been a fantasy of mine for a long time. This guy seemed harmless enough so...”
“I know sweetie, and I want to make all of your fantasies come true. Mybe someday, ok?”
I smiled, she smiled, and we hugged. “Wow, ok. Ready to gamble?” I asked, trying to change subjects. She nodded, and we made our way down to the casino floor.
We played the tables for about an hour, then headed over to the bar where the band was setting up. We grabbed a couch on the far side of the bar with a nice view of the stage and the dance floor. We ordered drinks and got comfortable. As we chatted, I found myself looking around to see if Carl was there. No sign of him.
The band came on at 9:30 sharp, and the bar quickly filled as the band started playing. My wife quickly downed 2 glasses of wine, and I had 2 beers. When the waitress came over my wife ordered a Long Island Iced Tea. I looked at her as she ordered. “Wow, someone’s not fooling around tonight huh?” She smiled back at me. When my wife wants to just hang she drinks wine, but when she wants to have “fun” she drinks hard stuff. That’s when "Fun Sharon," as I call her, comes out to play!
The band broke into a Bon Jovi song and my wife quickly scooted to the dance floor. The dance floor quickly filled with people bopping up and down. I sat on the couch, drinking a beer, watching my wife dance up a storm. As I did, I scanned the room, first the dance floor, and then the bar area. That’s when I spotted him.
Carl was standing by the bar, leaning on a column that supported the bar overhang. He had what looked like a soda in his hand. He was wearing tan khakis and a green polo shirt with “Cisco” on it. He looked a little shorter and a lot heavier than he described, but his face and hair style was the same. He was staring at my wife on the dance floor. It was definitely him.
The song ended and my wife came back to the couch, sitting next to me. She fell back against the couch cushion, breathless, and grabbed her drink. Crossing her legs, she chugged her Long Island Iced Tea.
“Easy Hun!” I said. “You know what those do to you!”
She finished the drink and waved at the waitress, pointing to her glass and mouthing “another one”. The waitress gave her a thumbs up.
“Oh my god” she said. “This is so much fun!” she said with a huge smile. She recrossed her legs, her dress riding up, revealing most of her stocking covered thighs.
I reached over and tried to fix her dress. “Hun, fix your dress” I said. She pushed my hand away.
“Will you stop! You told me you like when men look at my legs!” she said with a wry smile. “Besides, look at some of those young thin girls out there, no one is looking at me, believe me!”
Well, one person WAS looking at her. Carl. I looked at him across the room, and his eyes were fixed on her.
The waitress returned with another L.I.T. for my wife and she quickly started to chug it. I could tell the alcohol was kicking in, and sexy fun Sharon was definitely coming out.
The band started to play another song my wife liked, and she popped up like a teenager. “Oh my god I love this song!” she exclaimed. “Dance with me!” she said, looking at me, but I was not paying attention, I was watching Carl. My wife, noticing me looking toward the bar, looked that way herself and spotted Carl.
“Oh my God is that him?” she asked, motioning with her head.
“I think so” I said, now looking at my wife and trying not to be obvious about what we were talking about.
“Really!” she said with an evil smile. She chugged the rest of her L.I.T. and put her glass down. “Let’s see if he wants to dance with me!” Before I could say or do anything, my wife made a beeline across the bar area towards Carl. She walked right up to him, extended her hand, and asked him to dance. I could tell he was trying to say no, but when Sharon gets like this there is no telling her no. She took his hand and dragged him to the dance floor. He stood there, swaying back and forth awkwardly and my wife danced and sang to him.
The waitress returned, and I asked for another beer, and another L.I.T. for my wife. I also asked the waitress to bring me another of whatever Carl was drinking. She looked at him and said, “Yeah he’s just drinking soda, I’ll bring one.”
My attention returned to the dance floor, and the song had ended, and my wife was dragging Carl by the hand across the dance floor towards me. Sharon stopped when she reached the couch. “Hun, this is Carl! He was dancing with me.”
To this point we had not spoke in person, and Carl had never seen me before. I stood up and quickly noticed I was a good 4 to 5 inches taller than Carl. I extended my hand and gave him a firm handshake. “Hi Carl, I’m Joe, nice to meet you.” Carl shook my hand and nodded, avoiding eye contact with me.
My wife sat in the middle of the couch to my right, crossing her legs seductively, left over right. Carl’s eyes went right to her legs and feet. “Carl, will you join us?” she asked, patting the end of couch to her right. Carl smiled and nodded yes and sat. As he sat, my wife’s left foot bounced up and down in front of him. I could tell this had Carl flustered, and that he was a bit shy.
The waitress returned and put our drinks down. Carl nervously reached for his soda, his hand just avoiding my wife’s left foot as it bounced up and down in front of him, shoe dangling from her toe. She looked at me and smiled, she knew exactly what she was doing. She picked up her drink, as did I, and said “Cheers!” in a pleasant tone. The three of us lifted our glasses, and then drank our drinks as the band broke into another song my wife liked.
Quickly popping up, my wife chugged her drink, leaving only a mouthful or two in the glass as she hurried to the dance floor. “Are you coming?” she said, looking at me.
“No, I’m going to chat with Carl and enjoy my drink” I said with a smile.
“You two are party poopers!” she said, quickly turning and heading to the dance floor. I looked at Carl, and he looked at me.
“We finally meet” I said, raising my glass to him.
“Does she know anything?” he asked curiously.
“Um, no, not really” I said, hiding the truth. “She knows I talk to people on TMF, but that’s the extent of it. Why, did she say anything to you?” I asked.
“Oh, no, not at all. She just seems so happy, the life of the party.”
“Well yeah” I replied. “The alcohol does that to her!”
“Well, she’s killing me with that out fit and her legs and feet.” He said, as he finished his soda.
I started to reply, but Carl motioned with his eyes, and I turned to see my wife coming back to the couch. “Hi Hun!” I said.
Looking out of breath, my wife plopped on the couch. “Oh my God this is so much fun!” she exclaimed, picking up her drink and chugging the last few mouthfuls. “My feet are on fire, I need to get these shoes off!” she said, and with that she slipped her stocking encased size 8 feet out of her shoes, resting her exposed soles on the carpet. “Oh my God that feels so much better!” she said, now slumping on the couch. As she sat, she curled her toes, the red toenail polish displaying nicely through the sheer barely black nylon material. Carl’s eyes were glued to her now exposed feet. Sharon then lifted her right foot off the floor, resting it on the corner of the low table that our drinks were on, her hot-wife gold anklet shimmering over the sheer black nylon.
“Hun” I said, “Did you show Carl the ankle bracelet I got you?”
“No, I didn’t” she replied matter-of-factly. “See!” she said, lifting her foot off the table and resting her lower right leg on Carl’s left thigh, her foot directly in front of him now.
I leaned forward to see Carl sitting there stunned. His eyes were glued to my wife’s right foot as she curled her toes. After several seconds he looked in our direction, and softly said “Oh, very nice.”
My wife took the opportunity to turn slightly, her back now leaning in to my right side, facing Carl. She motioned for the waitress. She then lifted her left foot and rested it on Carl’s leg as well.
“Hun” I said, maybe Carl doesn’t want your feet on him?” I asked, knowing full well he was loving this.
“Oh stop, if it bothered him, he would say something right Carl?” she asked with that huge smile of hers that could melt most men. Carl continued to sit there, staring at my wife’s feet. Seemingly afraid to move.
The waitress returned, handing my wife yet another L.I.T. that she immediately started to pound. “Hun” I said softly, “Maybe you should slow down, you know what those do to you?”
“Oh stop” she said, “I’m fine!” and with that she continued sipping her drink. I looked at the waitress and made the “She’s done” sign with my hand and took my drink.
The band played another song, and my wife sat there, shaking her feet back and forth to the beat of the song, as Carl could only sit there and stare at her feet. My wife looked at Carl, then looked at me and winked. I knew right then and there that she was up to something.
She reached down and picked up her shoes. “I know you love these shoes on me” she said to me, holding the shoes up, “But they kill my feet! I think you owe me a foot rub later! But I know how much you hate rubbing my feet so….” she said, smiling, as she dropped the shoes back on the floor.
“I always rub your feet!” I replied.
“Not always!” she said, turning to look at Carl. “Or, maybe Carl can rub my feet?”
Carl looked at her and then me. “Oh, no, I couldn’t…” he replied, stumbling over his words.
Reaching for his arm, my wife gently rubbed his arm from shoulder to elbow. “What if I say please?” she said, making a cute pouty face.
With that I stood up to go to the men’s room. “Go ahead buddy, save me the trouble!” I said with a smile. My wife made a face and smacked my arm, feigning anger.
“Are you sure?” Carl said looking at me first, then my wife.
“We are sure!” my wife said with a big smile. I smiled and started to walk away when I heard my wife say, “Just be gentle, my feet are sooooo sensitive!” As I walked away all I could think of was how badly my wife was teasing this poor guy.
I got close to the men’s room, and I turned to take one last look before I walked in and out of sight. Carl was leaning forward, caressing the tops of my wife’s feet very slowly and gently, his gaze laser focused on her silky feet. My wife was just sitting there, smiling. I wen in the bathroom and looked at my watch. I decided I would give them a few minutes alone.
Back on the couch my wife was cooing in delight. “Mmmm Carl, that feels soooo nice!” she exclaimed, now leaning back against the couch, her eyes closed. “Now squeeze my feet” she asked, and Carl replied, his big hands surrounding her feet and gently squeeing. “Oh, yesssss!” she moaned softly. After squeezing her feet, Carl started to caress the sides of her feet, allowing one hand to caress the bottom of her right foot. My wife giggled and kicked slightly. “Tickles!” she said. Carl’s face lit up.
“Really?” he asked.
“Oh god yes, I am soooo ticklish!” my wife said, now rubbing her feet together.
“Sorry, I will be more careful” said Carl, resuming his squeezing and rubbing of her feet.
“You’re going to put me to sleep” she cooed, eyes closed again.
I returned 10 minutes later to find my wife’s legs still resting on Carl’s leg, and Carl gently squeezing her feet as she slept. The bulge in his khakis told me he was thoroughly enjoying himself.
I smiled at Carl and shook my wife’s arm. “Hun?” I said. “Hun?” She did not reply. I looked at Carl. “See, I knew this would happen. She drinks too much too quick and then is done for the night.”
“She was just talking to me a few minutes before you got back” said Carl, as he gently lifted her legs off his leg and put her feet on the floor. “Is she ok?” he asked.
“She’s fine, she just needs to go to sleep.” I said, putting my arms under her and lifting her to her feet. “Come on hun, time to go to bed” I said, and my wife mumbled something incoherent back, now standing very unsteadily. I put my right arm around her holding her up and started to guide her slowly to the elevator. Looking back at Carl I said, “Hey can you grab her shoes, coat and bag?” He nodded yes and quickly grabbed the items, following us to the elevator.
As we walked, I noticed dirty looks from a few women, and several men looking down at my wife’s exposed stocking feet. Slowly we walked to the elevator, my wife on unsteady legs, as I supported her, Carl close behind. We got the elevator and pressed the ‘UP’ button. The elevator arrived and we made our way to our floor. In the elevator my wife apologized “I’m sorry hun, I’m sorry” she said, eyes half open. We arrived at our floor and walked the short distance to our room. I opened the door and guided my wife to the bed. As she lied down Carl put her coat, bag and shoes on the desk in the corner, and stood there watching as my wife grabbed the beds top blanket and wrapped herself in it, curled up in a fetal position.
I looked at Carl. “Hey, thanks man, I appreciate it. She drank a little too much.” As I finished speaking my wife moaned.
“Hun, I don’t feel good!” she said. Quickly I ran to the bathroom and grabbed the garbage can, placing it on the bed by her.
“Here, just in case.” I said.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, just need to rest for a few minutes.” My wife mumbled before closing her eyes again.
“Oh fuck!” I said, looking at Carl. “I forgot to pay the bar bill!”
“I’ll go pay it.” Offered Carl.
“No, no, no you only drank soda. She had like 5 mixed drinks, and I had like 5 beers.” I said. “I’m going to run down and find that waitress and take care of it, do you mind sitting with her for like 10 minutes until I get back?” I asked, hoping Carl would take the bait. “I mean, I don’t think she is going to get sick, she never does, but just in case.”
Carl looked at the bed, then looked at me. “Sure, um, OK, yeah go ahead.” He stammered nervously.
“Cool, thanks man, I won’t be long!” I said, hurrying out of the room. As I was leaving I glanced back, ad Carl had grabbed the desk chair and pulled it over toward the bed where my wife was sleeping.
As soon as the door shut my wife called out. “Hun!” She called. “Hun?” Rolling around on the bed, she extended her legs, her nylon encased feet now poking out from the blanket she was wrapped in.
Carl glanced down at her exposed feet and stood up, walking to the side of the bed. “He’s not here Sharon, he went to pay the bar bill, he will be right back.”
Sharon rolled on to her stomach, now lying flat, legs extended, her now exposed feet hanging off the end of the bed, soles up. “Hun!” she said.
Carl caressed her cheek. “It’s ok, he’ll be back soon” he said, patting her back.
Carl looked down at the end of the bed. Sharon was now rotating her feet and rubbing her feet together. He couldn’t resist any longer.
"Sharon, do you want me to rub your feet?" he asked as he caressed her cheek.
"Mmmmmmmm" she replied. He took that as a 'Yes'.
He walked to the foot of the bed, pulling the desk chair over, and sat. Sharon’s exposed soles were inches from him. “Rub!!!” she moaned.
Carl extended one hand, grabbing her right foot and squeezing. Sharon immediately moaned in pleasure. Using both hands, he gently squeezed and rubbed her right foot. As he did, Sharon poked his hands with her free left foot. “This one too” she moaned.
Carl then started squeezing Sharon’s right foot, as her feet twisted, and she moaned softly. He then started to run his thumbs up and down her feet with pressure and Sharon squirmed.
After about a minute of this, he put her feet back down. Looking at her exposed silky soles, Carl could not help himself any longer. He took his index finger and traced his fingernail from her right heel to her right toes. The reaction was immediate.
Sharon giggled, shaking her foot. He repeated the process with her left foot, and got a more violent reaction, this time she actually lifted her foot off the bed and kicked, laughing as she did. “Tickles!” she muttered from the pillow.
A feeling of euphoria came over Carl. His dick was now rock hard from Sharon’s feet, which were lying on the bed in front of him, poking out from the blanket she had wrapped herself in. He knew he may never have an opportunity like this again. He stood up, pushed the chair back, and dropped to his knees, Sharon’s silky feet mere inches from his face, and with both hands started scratching her soles with his fingernails.
Sharon immediately burst into laughter, now lifting and kicking both feet. Her laughter only provoked Carl further, so he grabbed her right ankle with his left hand and furiously tickled up and down the bottom of her right foot, listening for any indication of her worst spots. When his fingers found the sensitive area just under her toes, she squealed loudly. He had found her worst spot!
Sharon’s feet were kicking furiously now, at one point almost kicking Carl in the face, so he briefly stopped tickling her feet and stood up. Sharon stopped laughing and was now breathing heavily. Carl looked at his clock, trying to estimate when I would be back. Then the phone in the room started ringing. “Carl, get that!” Sharon barked. Carl walked over and picked up the handset.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hey Carl, it’s me. I’m still trying to find our waitress, is my wife ok?” I asked.
“Yes, she’s fine, she keeps asking for you.” He said.
“That’s fine, she will fall asleep soon. If you don’t mind, can you hang out a little longer? The manager said she might be on a break, so as soon as she gets back I’ll pay the bill and be up. Maybe like 10-15 minutes more the most.’”
“Um, sure, fine.” said Carl. Hanging up the phone, Carl looked down at my wife’s feet and could not help himself anymore. He had to really tickle them.
He quickly ran to the door and put on the dead bolt and returned to the bed, where Sharon was breathing heavy, and struggling to get free from the blanket she was wrapped in. Moving quickly, Carl grabbed one of the pillows that had fallen off the bed and went to Sharons feet. Lifting her feet he placed the pillows under her feet, elevating them. He then quickly climbed on the bed, and threw his leg over Sharon, eventually ending up sitting on his knees straddling her legs facing her feet. He gently lowered his 350-pound frame on to Sharon’s lower legs, pinning her down. Her feet were trapped now, and he was going to give her the tickling of her life.
“What are you doing!” asked Sharon, squirming under Carl’s weight. With Carl sitting on her legs, and her body from her knees up wrapped in the blanket, she was unable to resist. “Listen, my husband will be back soon, you better not!”
“Better not what? This?” asked Carl sarcastically, as he traced a single finger up the bottom of Sharon’s helpless right foot.
Sharon immediately burst out into laughter. “Noooo! Don’t!” she said.
Carl then using a single fingernail on her other foot. “Don’t what?” he asked again. “Do this?” and he continued to slowly tickle the bottom of her feet.
“Carl!!!!” Sharon yelled, now thrashing under his weight. Feeling her legs move, Carl sat down on her legs with all his weight. “Oh, someone is strong!” he said mockingly. “Well now I’m going to teach you a lesson!” and with that he started to slowly trace his fingernails up and down the bottom of both of Sharon’s stockinged feet.
Sharon exploded in laughter, thrashing violently, as Carl continued his slow deliberate tickling of her feet. In between fits of crazed laughter, she managed to say “Noooooo!” and “Pleeeeease!” but Carl was merciless.
Carl gritted his teeth as he looked down at Sharon’s helpless soles, tickling her non-stop. His cock was throbbing now, he had never been more turned on. Sliding back on Sharon’s body so that he was now sitting on her upper legs, he leaned forward, lying on her legs, her stockinged feet now inches from his face, as he tickled both feet furiously.
Sharon pleaded for mercy, but Carl would not stop. At one point, her crazed laughter turned to silent laughter, and she started to gasp for air. Hearing this, Carl stopped tickling her feet and sat up. “Are you ok?” he asked
Breathing heavily, she replied. “Oh my god, Carl, please, stop, please!” she begged.
Looking down at her feet, Carl got an idea. “I wonder?” he said out loud, and lifted Sharon’s right leg, bending her leg at the knee, her foot inches from his chest. Using a fingernail, he ripped the nylons by her toes and peeled the delicate material back, exposing her toes.
“Carl, what are you doing?” Sharon asked. “Please don’t!” but it was too late.
Carl leaned down, his tongue licking Sharon’s toes as he held her ankle in a death grip, and she burst in to laughter again. “OH MY GOD!!”
Carl forced his tongue in between Sharon’s ultra-sensitive toes, eliciting squeals that could wake the dead. He then started sucking on her toes one by one as she laughed hysterically, her free left foot kicking the bed.
Realizing that I would be back to the room at any minute, Carl stopped and put Sharon’s feet down. He climbed off her legs, standing by the side of the bed, his cock bulging against his tan khakis. Sharon collapsed on the bed, trying to catch her breath. Carl walked up the top of the bed where Sharon lay face down and started patting her back. “Are you ok?” he asked.
“Yes” she mumbled. “I don’t think I have ever been tickled like that!” she exclaimed, rolling on her side as she tried to free herself from the blanket that trapped her.
“Are you mad?” Carl asked.
“No, but you better go before my husband gets back!” she said, now sitting up.
“OK” he said, walking toward the door. As he walked away, Sharon called to him.
“Hey!” she said. “Did you enjoy that?”
“Yes, I did! Can’t you tell!” he said, looking down at the bulge in his boxers.
“Good!” said Sharon with a smile. Carl made his way to the door and unlocked it, taking one last look back at Sharon as she sat on the bed.
“Thank you!” he said and left with a huge smile on his face.
Sharon grabbed the remote and put the TV on, wrapping herself in the blanket again. Five minutes later the door opened, I was back.
“Hey, someone is feeling better I see?” as I walked toward her with a big smile. “Where is Carl?”
“He left!” she replied. “And well, I guess I wasn’t quite as sick as I made out” said Sharon with a smile. Extending her legs, her feet popped out from under the blanket, exposing her one stockinged foot, and her other foot with the ripped nylons rolled back to expose her toes.
Looking down at her feet, I asked “Should I ask?”
Freeing her right hand from the blanket, she reached over and started to rub my cock through my jeans. “I’ll tell you all about it, after you fuck me!”
To be continued?
