Okay,.... this is no longer the first story I ever posted here,.... as some of you know by now. It has just added a new chapter,...... possibly the most astonishing thing that has ever happened to me,... in fact, I'm sort of shivering a little at the moment just thinking about the events of the day. Collecting my thoughts seems at least one more sherry out of reach,... maybe two,.. but I will get there. And I'll tell you what happened in a reply epilogue at the end.
You just never fucking know.
___________________________
--- Yep, this is my first story ever posted here,.. and I've done precious little posting of other items. But I love the true stories postings, and frankly I've got a lot of 'em. As will be seen in this little tale spanning childhood to early adulthood, I have been very fortunate in not only recognizing my tickling and foot fetishes at an early age, but also in having willing and appreciative companions and "accomplices" the whole way. This story is amazingly true, and starts back in the 50's.
--- I was a little rural kid who realized early on that I was totally drawn to little girls' feet. But the only non-suspicious way of so much as touching a girl's foot was to tickle it,.... after all, that was a time-honored prank. So from about the age of seven, I had a next-door playmate named Yvonne. She was a tomboy, pure and simple, and we were inseparable pals until I moved away at age eleven. Ah, but the five years in between were an education for me and, as it turned out, for Yvonne, as well.
--- Living as we did in a sparsely-populated rural area, our "playground" was a vast wooded forest. I lived through every Tom Sawyer, Robin Hood and Jungle fantasy a kid could have,... and Yvonne was right there with me. And our games quickly evolved into various chase & capture sequences involving Indians, pirates, outlaws, etc,.... and the damsel-in-distress, naturally. And as such, Yvonne ended up being tied to trees, tied to chairs in my plush clubhouse, tied in a never-ending variety of ways,... and I would then make some plausible excuse to tickle her feet.
--- I DO recall that the first time I ever removed her shoes and socks while she was tied up, Yvonne screamed bloody murder. And she screamed even louder at the tickling. Yvonne was incredibly ticklish and, for that matter, she had really seductive feet, too,... So at first, I would keep the tickling to a minimum,... not wanting to freak her out too much. But nevertheless, the "captured-tied & tickled" scenario became a routine with us. By age eleven, I guess I had tied up Yvonne and tickled her feet over fifty times.
--- Also by age eleven, we were not "little kids" any longer, and I was almost coming to see tickling Yvonne's feet as somehow disappointing, but I was inwardly aghast at realizing the reason for this: I wanted to kiss her feet, as well. Oh no, that could not be. Talk about feeling "abnormal." The tickling games continued, however, and were not even any longer relegated to the woods. As more mature 3rd and 4th graders, we hung out at our respective houses, read comic books on rainy days, etc,... There was even one occasion in a famous game of Monopoly when I had emerged on top of the real estate empire, and Yvonne has just hit Boardwalk and was unable to pay. So she "negotiated." She asked if I would overlook the debt if she let me tickle her feet for three minutes. She had caught on.
--- Yvonne had probably also caught on to the change in my own tickling-game behavior, the result of my private "heightened" appreciation of her feet. Being unable to come clean and admit that I actually wanted to kiss her feet, I settled for contriving tickle games in which I could get her feet as close to my face as possible, once even brushing her sole against my cheek, and eliciting a "ewwww" from Yvonne. But it was a galvanizing moment for me.
--- Unfortunately, it was also one of the last times that Yvonne and I got together. As I said, my family moved that year,.... same city, but different schools, different friends, etc,.... and that seemingly was that. Adolescence was a nightmare, and I often wished that I could have continued my "voyage of discovery" with Yvonne, instead of every other teenaged girl in town.
--- But it turned out the story was not over, after all. It was about eight years later when, as a college freshman away from home, I had to spend the thanksgiving holiday in the hospital back in my hometown. Minor surgery. And who should pop into my room, but Yvonne! She had become a nurse assistant or something like that,... and she looked great. She hung out in my room for a little while, and we agreed to get together as soon as I was out,....catch up on old times, maybe have dinner, etc. And so we did.
--- I picked her up at her "apartment" and, after a burger, we decided to cruise out in the direction of our old woods,... which by the way had been heavily developed over the passing years. And bear in mind, that I had absolutely no notion about resurrecting the good old days with Yvonne,.. in fact, it made me nervous even to think about it. But I was enjoying her company,... we DID have a lot of stuff to catch up on,... and we managed to find a decent little wooded turnaround spot just off the little river which ran through the old woods of childhood.
--- I can't remember what we talked about, but at one point Yvonne asked me, "Do you know what I remember the most about us playing out in these woods?"
---I thought, "Uh-oh. Surely it can't be,...." And I nervously asked her what it could be,....
--- Without any of the practiced self-consciousness I had developed for my fetishes over the years, Yvonne replied, "I remember that you were always tying me up and tickling my feet." (Oh Jeez)
--- In a mild panic, I tried to offer an apologetic explanation,... just kids,... boys will be boys,... I'm really sorry about all that,... I did not mean, etc, etc, etc,....... But Yvonne grinned at me and waved off my stammering excuses,.....
--- "No, no," she said, "It was really Ok. I really liked it." (Holy shit)
--- "You did?" I continued to stammer. "Really? I would have thought,....."
--- But Yvonne was already turning sideways in the cab of my pick-up,... and she kicked off her shoes. Lifting her legs so that her bare feet rested in my lap, she said, "Go ahead. Try me."
--- I was really shaking at this point,... I looked at Yvonne's bare feet in my lap and tried to blow it off,.... "Oh, really,... those were just kid games,... "
--- But Yvonne waved me off a second time. "I know you really liked my feet," she said. "One of the girls in class told me about her boyfriend, and he really likes girls' feet, too." She paused. "It's called having a foot fetish, and you have one, too, don't you? Isn't that why you were always tickling my feet?" For emphasis, she lifted one foot up in front of my face. "Well?"
--- I grasped her ankle and returned her foot to my lap,... then surveyed both feet. I experimentally dragged one finger up the sole of one foot,... and Yvonne giggled slightly.
--- "Go ahead," she repeated. "I know you want to,..."
--- So I did. I started tickling both of Yvonne's feet,.. cautiously at first,..then with more confidence (and lust). And Yvonne exploded into a kicking, screaming, struggling frenzy,... laughing uncontrollably,.. and frankly managing to pull free of my grasp,... We ended up with her slumped against the door,... one foot dangling over the transmission hump, and one foot resting on my right shoulder. I looked at the bare foot on my shoulder breathlessly...
--- "Go ahead," she teased with a chuckle,.. "Do what you're thinking about doing,..." And she flicked her toes across my cheek.
--- Well that was it. I plunged Yvonne's toes into my mouth and grabbed her other foot. For the next two minutes, I orally devoured the feet of my childhood dreams. But if anything, Yvonne was more ticklish than ever, and she struggled and kicked wildly when my tongue found its way between her toes. I was worried about getting a broken nose, and I stopped for a moment. We both sat there panting happily.
--- "Jesus, Yvonne," I wheezed, "I thought you said you liked it," and I mocked an accusing stare in her direction. And then she grinned sheepishly and bowed her head slightly. I waited, and finally she spoke...
--- "Well, there IS just one more thing," she began,... "and since you kissed my feet, I can tell you." I was baffled. Her feet still rested on my chest, soles just inches from my face, and I slurped at them contentedly. Yvonne picked up her purse from the floorboard of the truck and rumaged inside. I held my breath. She produced two short lengths of rope.
--- "The part I liked best was being tied up," she said quietly. "That was MY fetish." I stared at the rope,.. nuzzled my face against her moist soles,..
--- "Would you like to tie me up?" she asked meekly,..then grinned. "It might be safer when you tickle my feet."
---Well, suffice it to say that I DID tie Yvonne's wrists and ankles, and we had what must have been the incredible foot fetish-tickling-bondage experience we had both longed for as kids,... She told me afterwards that she had never been tied up since our childhood games, but that it was a powerful and constant "interest" for her. And when she saw me in the hospital,.. having already dedeuced the foot fetish origins of my old tickling preoccupation,... she figured she would give it a shot.
--- She also told me that she had just enlisted in the Army, and would be leaving before long. And I had to return to school. Our evening ended with just a kiss on the cheek, though with some radiant smiles and shared, secretive giggles,... Catching up on old times, indeed.
---- I didn't see Yvonne after that night for another 27 years,.... she was a major in the army,... and married to another major. But we had a nice visit.
You just never fucking know.
___________________________
--- Yep, this is my first story ever posted here,.. and I've done precious little posting of other items. But I love the true stories postings, and frankly I've got a lot of 'em. As will be seen in this little tale spanning childhood to early adulthood, I have been very fortunate in not only recognizing my tickling and foot fetishes at an early age, but also in having willing and appreciative companions and "accomplices" the whole way. This story is amazingly true, and starts back in the 50's.
--- I was a little rural kid who realized early on that I was totally drawn to little girls' feet. But the only non-suspicious way of so much as touching a girl's foot was to tickle it,.... after all, that was a time-honored prank. So from about the age of seven, I had a next-door playmate named Yvonne. She was a tomboy, pure and simple, and we were inseparable pals until I moved away at age eleven. Ah, but the five years in between were an education for me and, as it turned out, for Yvonne, as well.
--- Living as we did in a sparsely-populated rural area, our "playground" was a vast wooded forest. I lived through every Tom Sawyer, Robin Hood and Jungle fantasy a kid could have,... and Yvonne was right there with me. And our games quickly evolved into various chase & capture sequences involving Indians, pirates, outlaws, etc,.... and the damsel-in-distress, naturally. And as such, Yvonne ended up being tied to trees, tied to chairs in my plush clubhouse, tied in a never-ending variety of ways,... and I would then make some plausible excuse to tickle her feet.
--- I DO recall that the first time I ever removed her shoes and socks while she was tied up, Yvonne screamed bloody murder. And she screamed even louder at the tickling. Yvonne was incredibly ticklish and, for that matter, she had really seductive feet, too,... So at first, I would keep the tickling to a minimum,... not wanting to freak her out too much. But nevertheless, the "captured-tied & tickled" scenario became a routine with us. By age eleven, I guess I had tied up Yvonne and tickled her feet over fifty times.
--- Also by age eleven, we were not "little kids" any longer, and I was almost coming to see tickling Yvonne's feet as somehow disappointing, but I was inwardly aghast at realizing the reason for this: I wanted to kiss her feet, as well. Oh no, that could not be. Talk about feeling "abnormal." The tickling games continued, however, and were not even any longer relegated to the woods. As more mature 3rd and 4th graders, we hung out at our respective houses, read comic books on rainy days, etc,... There was even one occasion in a famous game of Monopoly when I had emerged on top of the real estate empire, and Yvonne has just hit Boardwalk and was unable to pay. So she "negotiated." She asked if I would overlook the debt if she let me tickle her feet for three minutes. She had caught on.
--- Yvonne had probably also caught on to the change in my own tickling-game behavior, the result of my private "heightened" appreciation of her feet. Being unable to come clean and admit that I actually wanted to kiss her feet, I settled for contriving tickle games in which I could get her feet as close to my face as possible, once even brushing her sole against my cheek, and eliciting a "ewwww" from Yvonne. But it was a galvanizing moment for me.
--- Unfortunately, it was also one of the last times that Yvonne and I got together. As I said, my family moved that year,.... same city, but different schools, different friends, etc,.... and that seemingly was that. Adolescence was a nightmare, and I often wished that I could have continued my "voyage of discovery" with Yvonne, instead of every other teenaged girl in town.
--- But it turned out the story was not over, after all. It was about eight years later when, as a college freshman away from home, I had to spend the thanksgiving holiday in the hospital back in my hometown. Minor surgery. And who should pop into my room, but Yvonne! She had become a nurse assistant or something like that,... and she looked great. She hung out in my room for a little while, and we agreed to get together as soon as I was out,....catch up on old times, maybe have dinner, etc. And so we did.
--- I picked her up at her "apartment" and, after a burger, we decided to cruise out in the direction of our old woods,... which by the way had been heavily developed over the passing years. And bear in mind, that I had absolutely no notion about resurrecting the good old days with Yvonne,.. in fact, it made me nervous even to think about it. But I was enjoying her company,... we DID have a lot of stuff to catch up on,... and we managed to find a decent little wooded turnaround spot just off the little river which ran through the old woods of childhood.
--- I can't remember what we talked about, but at one point Yvonne asked me, "Do you know what I remember the most about us playing out in these woods?"
---I thought, "Uh-oh. Surely it can't be,...." And I nervously asked her what it could be,....
--- Without any of the practiced self-consciousness I had developed for my fetishes over the years, Yvonne replied, "I remember that you were always tying me up and tickling my feet." (Oh Jeez)
--- In a mild panic, I tried to offer an apologetic explanation,... just kids,... boys will be boys,... I'm really sorry about all that,... I did not mean, etc, etc, etc,....... But Yvonne grinned at me and waved off my stammering excuses,.....
--- "No, no," she said, "It was really Ok. I really liked it." (Holy shit)
--- "You did?" I continued to stammer. "Really? I would have thought,....."
--- But Yvonne was already turning sideways in the cab of my pick-up,... and she kicked off her shoes. Lifting her legs so that her bare feet rested in my lap, she said, "Go ahead. Try me."
--- I was really shaking at this point,... I looked at Yvonne's bare feet in my lap and tried to blow it off,.... "Oh, really,... those were just kid games,... "
--- But Yvonne waved me off a second time. "I know you really liked my feet," she said. "One of the girls in class told me about her boyfriend, and he really likes girls' feet, too." She paused. "It's called having a foot fetish, and you have one, too, don't you? Isn't that why you were always tickling my feet?" For emphasis, she lifted one foot up in front of my face. "Well?"
--- I grasped her ankle and returned her foot to my lap,... then surveyed both feet. I experimentally dragged one finger up the sole of one foot,... and Yvonne giggled slightly.
--- "Go ahead," she repeated. "I know you want to,..."
--- So I did. I started tickling both of Yvonne's feet,.. cautiously at first,..then with more confidence (and lust). And Yvonne exploded into a kicking, screaming, struggling frenzy,... laughing uncontrollably,.. and frankly managing to pull free of my grasp,... We ended up with her slumped against the door,... one foot dangling over the transmission hump, and one foot resting on my right shoulder. I looked at the bare foot on my shoulder breathlessly...
--- "Go ahead," she teased with a chuckle,.. "Do what you're thinking about doing,..." And she flicked her toes across my cheek.
--- Well that was it. I plunged Yvonne's toes into my mouth and grabbed her other foot. For the next two minutes, I orally devoured the feet of my childhood dreams. But if anything, Yvonne was more ticklish than ever, and she struggled and kicked wildly when my tongue found its way between her toes. I was worried about getting a broken nose, and I stopped for a moment. We both sat there panting happily.
--- "Jesus, Yvonne," I wheezed, "I thought you said you liked it," and I mocked an accusing stare in her direction. And then she grinned sheepishly and bowed her head slightly. I waited, and finally she spoke...
--- "Well, there IS just one more thing," she began,... "and since you kissed my feet, I can tell you." I was baffled. Her feet still rested on my chest, soles just inches from my face, and I slurped at them contentedly. Yvonne picked up her purse from the floorboard of the truck and rumaged inside. I held my breath. She produced two short lengths of rope.
--- "The part I liked best was being tied up," she said quietly. "That was MY fetish." I stared at the rope,.. nuzzled my face against her moist soles,..
--- "Would you like to tie me up?" she asked meekly,..then grinned. "It might be safer when you tickle my feet."
---Well, suffice it to say that I DID tie Yvonne's wrists and ankles, and we had what must have been the incredible foot fetish-tickling-bondage experience we had both longed for as kids,... She told me afterwards that she had never been tied up since our childhood games, but that it was a powerful and constant "interest" for her. And when she saw me in the hospital,.. having already dedeuced the foot fetish origins of my old tickling preoccupation,... she figured she would give it a shot.
--- She also told me that she had just enlisted in the Army, and would be leaving before long. And I had to return to school. Our evening ended with just a kiss on the cheek, though with some radiant smiles and shared, secretive giggles,... Catching up on old times, indeed.
---- I didn't see Yvonne after that night for another 27 years,.... she was a major in the army,... and married to another major. But we had a nice visit.
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Thank you for sharing that remarkable story. 
