I told this story once before, but it may have been on the (sadly) short-lived Nylon Tickling Forum.
* * * *
A few years back, during my first marriage, I had a neighbor named Pam. Pam lived alone, as she had divorced her husband, but kept her house. She was thirtysomething, as was I.
I was never especially attracted to her as she was built almost like me (6' 190), and she could have used a new hairstylist (short and curly should have been long). She did have long legs and, well, enourmous feet (wide and at least a women's 11).
I had taken a day off to work around the house. I saw Pam pull into her driveway around 3:30 PM (she was a teacher) and enter her house; she was wearing a dress, heels, and tan nylons (that always gets my attention 😉). Not long after, Pam was ringing my doorbell (wearing jeans and a sweatshirt). She wanted to borrow a saw. I asked for what, and she said she wanted to cut down some of her lower branches now that the leaves had fallen. I told her I would come over and cut them down for her. She said OK, but didn't like the way I had patronized her (that wouldn't be all she didn't like 🙂). As I followed her back to her house, I noticed that she still had her hose on underneath her sneakers and jeans.
As I did the work out in her back yard, she got very sarcastic.
"Ohh, thank God I have such a big, strong, man for a neighbor. I could never have cut that heavy heavy branch down myself!"...etc. etc....it was fun, and funny, and a little flirty. I gave it back to her, picking on the guys she'd been dating, the condition of her yard...back and forth. All the while, I was trying to figure out a way to get my hands on those big stockinged feet of hers (at this point I had no idea if she was ticklish or not).
I finished cutting down the branches and started to bundle them up. She started in again...
"Ohh, the big strong man not only cuts, he cleans too! How did I get so lucky???"
I picked up the biggest branch and started towards her. She started laughing and backing up as she grabbed it. He feet slid out from underneath her and she started to fall back, holding on as she slowly landed on the ground. She effectively pulled me down with her, both of us laughing. She twisted around to keep the branch from hurting her, settling almost face down in the leaves and grass, with me half on top of her.
I poked her in the butt and told her "see what happens when a woman tries to do even a little bit of a man's job!" Chaos!.
"Shut up and get off me!"
"You are not qualified to do any manual labor!" I rolled toward her feet, pinning her legs down, and hooked my arm around her foot. "Look at this! Who in the world wears pantyhose with sneakers?!?! To do yardwork! You're pathetic! I have to fix this situation!" I started to untie her sneaker.
"Hey! What are you doing! Get off me!"
I pulled her sneaker off and threw it near her head. I tightened my arm's grip around her ankle. "You're in no position to give orders, you and your silly pantyhose..." With that, I ran a finger down her huge pantyhosed foot. She about threw me off as she reacted with a buck and a small laughing scream (the kind of noise a very ticklish person would make when you surprise-tickle them 😉).
"Hey! No! Don't you darehahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH STAAHHHPPP!"
Oh my God, this was unbelievable. I had this huge stockinged foot inches from my face. Huge, TICKLISH stockinged foot. And, somehow, we had wedged into a position that left her leg immobile. All she could do was scrunch her toes and wiggle her big foot. I took my finger tips to her tan-nyloned arch...
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH STOPHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA" I stopped for a few seconds to let her breath, and teased her with "I guess I am a big strong man..." and then tickled her toes....she laughed harder.
NOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHH!!!!
I could have stayed there all day...but I heard a car pull in another driveway, and let her up. I can still see her walking quickly to her house (away from me) with one shoe off of that big stockinged foot.
The weird thing was...we stayed friends until I moved away, but we never mentioned this ordeal again. Too Bad.
* * * *
A few years back, during my first marriage, I had a neighbor named Pam. Pam lived alone, as she had divorced her husband, but kept her house. She was thirtysomething, as was I.
I was never especially attracted to her as she was built almost like me (6' 190), and she could have used a new hairstylist (short and curly should have been long). She did have long legs and, well, enourmous feet (wide and at least a women's 11).
I had taken a day off to work around the house. I saw Pam pull into her driveway around 3:30 PM (she was a teacher) and enter her house; she was wearing a dress, heels, and tan nylons (that always gets my attention 😉). Not long after, Pam was ringing my doorbell (wearing jeans and a sweatshirt). She wanted to borrow a saw. I asked for what, and she said she wanted to cut down some of her lower branches now that the leaves had fallen. I told her I would come over and cut them down for her. She said OK, but didn't like the way I had patronized her (that wouldn't be all she didn't like 🙂). As I followed her back to her house, I noticed that she still had her hose on underneath her sneakers and jeans.
As I did the work out in her back yard, she got very sarcastic.
"Ohh, thank God I have such a big, strong, man for a neighbor. I could never have cut that heavy heavy branch down myself!"...etc. etc....it was fun, and funny, and a little flirty. I gave it back to her, picking on the guys she'd been dating, the condition of her yard...back and forth. All the while, I was trying to figure out a way to get my hands on those big stockinged feet of hers (at this point I had no idea if she was ticklish or not).
I finished cutting down the branches and started to bundle them up. She started in again...
"Ohh, the big strong man not only cuts, he cleans too! How did I get so lucky???"
I picked up the biggest branch and started towards her. She started laughing and backing up as she grabbed it. He feet slid out from underneath her and she started to fall back, holding on as she slowly landed on the ground. She effectively pulled me down with her, both of us laughing. She twisted around to keep the branch from hurting her, settling almost face down in the leaves and grass, with me half on top of her.
I poked her in the butt and told her "see what happens when a woman tries to do even a little bit of a man's job!" Chaos!.
"Shut up and get off me!"
"You are not qualified to do any manual labor!" I rolled toward her feet, pinning her legs down, and hooked my arm around her foot. "Look at this! Who in the world wears pantyhose with sneakers?!?! To do yardwork! You're pathetic! I have to fix this situation!" I started to untie her sneaker.
"Hey! What are you doing! Get off me!"
I pulled her sneaker off and threw it near her head. I tightened my arm's grip around her ankle. "You're in no position to give orders, you and your silly pantyhose..." With that, I ran a finger down her huge pantyhosed foot. She about threw me off as she reacted with a buck and a small laughing scream (the kind of noise a very ticklish person would make when you surprise-tickle them 😉).
"Hey! No! Don't you darehahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH STAAHHHPPP!"
Oh my God, this was unbelievable. I had this huge stockinged foot inches from my face. Huge, TICKLISH stockinged foot. And, somehow, we had wedged into a position that left her leg immobile. All she could do was scrunch her toes and wiggle her big foot. I took my finger tips to her tan-nyloned arch...
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH STOPHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA" I stopped for a few seconds to let her breath, and teased her with "I guess I am a big strong man..." and then tickled her toes....she laughed harder.
NOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHH!!!!
I could have stayed there all day...but I heard a car pull in another driveway, and let her up. I can still see her walking quickly to her house (away from me) with one shoe off of that big stockinged foot.
The weird thing was...we stayed friends until I moved away, but we never mentioned this ordeal again. Too Bad.