Note: This story is about me opening up to a female friend of mine. The tickling isn't exactly gratuitous, considering we hardly knew each other at this point. And the tickling bits are all feet. Also, those of you who can't bear a longer, slower, more descriptive story should probably give this one a miss.
Having said that... For the rest of you, this is my story.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Friend" is the key word. I wasn't dating this girl, at least not yet. As of then, she was just someone I hung out with at the university. But she was hot enough to melt the skin off the devil, and I sure as hell wanted her.
Her name was Oxana. Russian. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin. Only an inch or two shorter than me. She spoke with this thick Slovak accent, but she used English perfectly. Something about those Eastern European accents really turns me on. But I digress.
We were in the same class at Columbia, and we only knew each other through mutual friends. Whenever we hung out, it was in the company of five or more people. We hadn't spoken once until she found out that I'm Danish. God knows why that appealed to her, but it did. But who cares? She liked me, and I wasn't complaining.
There was one night when Oxana and I were sitting around in her dorm room. We weren't alone at first, but as the night wore on, the rest of our friends gradually funneled out the door until it was just her and I left watching a movie. Apocalypse Now, it might have been. Oxana's never been a big fan of war movies, and I could clearly tell she was bored. But she kept it on for me. She must have assumed I would be leaving soon. She couldn't have been further from the truth.
In her boredom, Oxana slumped down against the armrest of the couch. I was sitting on the other side, trying not to be tempted by her body. But the more bored she got, the more she seemed to spread out on the couch. It wasn't long before she was wholly lying down with her feet curled up by my thigh. She was wearing those classic white ankle socks, a tiny bit of dirt staining the bottoms. I'm a big foot fetishist myself, and I can't stand when girls wear these kinds of socks. They're just so endearing, the way they show off every curve and contour of a beautiful foot, but without spoiling the mystery of what it looks like underneath. I'm normally not very forthcoming with my fetishes, but Oxana was so beautiful, and her feet were so close to me, that I simply couldn't resist.
"Still awake?" I asked her. She groaned in response. I think she was getting ready to fall asleep. Now, I'm a timid guy, and I've never been one to jump right to the point. If I was going to do anything to Oxana, I wanted to make sure it seemed as normal as possible.
"We can shut it off it you want, Oxana. I'll let you go to sleep."
She groaned again. She must have been saying something, but her face was buried in a pillow. In any case, she didn't move.
"No?" I asked. "Well, I'm going to stick around to finish this movie, then. Think you can give me some room?"
"No," she said, pulling her face from the pillow. She turned to look at the TV again. Her hair was messy from the pillow, with loose, golden strands hanging down all over her face. She was so humble. It was beautiful. Focus, I told myself. You can have her face any time you want. But this may be your only chance to have her feet.
"No?" I asked.
"No," she repeated. "I'm comfortable."
"Oxana, your feet are on me."
"On you?" she said, her voice carrying a flirtatious undertone. "They are not on you. This is on you." Suddenly, her feet were rested on my shoulder. When I turned to look at her, I got a faceful of her socks. I coughed to hide a groan of pleasure.
"Oxana!" I said to her. "This is a little obtrusive."
"You'll just have to deal with it, darling," she said to me, her thick Russian accent making me burn with lust. "I'm quite comfortable." Her feet rubbed together by my cheek.
That was the last straw. I couldn't stand it any longer. I reached up and stroked her foot with my index finger. She immediately retracted her feet. "Oh? Is someone getting a little temperamental?"
I laughed. "Is someone getting a little ticklish?"
Oxana smirked at me. She didn't seem quite so tired anymore. "Come now, Frit. Be a gentleman. I wish to stretch my legs." This time, her feet appeared on my lap. Her shapely ankles were just over my manhood, and it took everything I had to restrain myself. How fortunate that I was wearing sturdy pants.
"Oxana, I'm trying to enjoy the movie."
"You told me you've seen it before, Fritjof."
"Well, I want to watch it again."
"Then watch."
"Your feet, Oxana."
"What about my feet?" They were still in my lap at this point.
"They're distracting."
"Oh?" Oxana asked, her face peaked with curiosity. She wiggled her toes in my lap. "Distracting how?"
I didn't want to tell her about my fetish just yet. This was, after all, the first time Oxana and I had hung out alone. But I'd come this far, and I wasn't ready to pass up such a golden opportunity. I ignored her question and quickly tickled one of her feet. She retracted them. "You and the tickling! What has gotten into you?"
"As far as I can tell, it's the only way to keep your feet away from me. It's working pretty well, isn't it?"
"I wouldn't say that," Oxana replied cheekily before putting her feet in my lap a second time. I tickled them gently, but she didn't move. I tickled them a little more seriously. She gasped and wiggled her feet a little, but she still didn't retract them. I looked at her, and she smirked at me. "Who is so smart now?"
"Getting brave, are we?" I said tauntingly. I tickled her around the rims of both of her soles, moving occasionally to the space just beneath her toes. She giggled and jerked her ankles quite a bit, but she didn't budge an inch from my lap. I had to give her credit. She was clearly ticklish, but she was holding her ground. Russians are tough like bull.
"Give up, Frit. You can't make me move my feet."
"Don't you tempt me, Oxana. I can do far worse than this."
"Oh?" she said in an openly flirtatious tone. "Show me."
Just the response I was hoping for. I held up her feet by the heels and carefully slipped off her socks. As the cotton peeled away, I was treated to a view of two of the most beautiful feet I had ever seen. They were no whiter than the rest of her skin, possibly even a little bit darker. That was good. It meant that she went barefoot often. Her feet were of a good size; not huge, but not so petite that it seemed unnatural. She had some of the smoothest skin I've ever seen. Her feet were totally free of wrinkles, even on the bottoms. I looked over her toes, perfectly aligned, and found myself overcome by the urge to put them in my mouth.
Oxana giggled, wiggling her toes at their newfound freedom. "What now, Mr. Tough Man?" She was provoking me. I wonder if she knew what she was in for.
I dragged my finger along the top of her bare foot. She squealed loudly with a sound like "Eeee!"
"Jeez!" I said to her. "You sure you can handle this?"
"The question is, Frit: Are you sure you can handle this?" She cheekily stroked her heel along my lap. She caught me off guard, and I let out a quick, involuntary groan. I looked at her, and she was smiling devilishly. She knew.
"Oxana, I..."
"You have a foot fetish, don't you, Frit?"
"Erm..."
She rubbed both of her feet along my crotch. "Yes, you do," she said. "Do not take me for a fool, Fritjof. I know arousal when I see it."
"Oxana, stop."
"Or what?" she said, her feet still massaging my groin.
My mind was clouding up with arousal. "Or this," I said, and at that moment, my id took control. I grabbed her by the feet and tickled her relentlessly along her defenseless soles. She squealed at first, but it quickly grew into a full-fledged scream, choked by the occasional fit of laughter. I was sure the entire building could hear us, but I didn't care. Her feet were my possessions. I dragged my fingers along her sweet, bare skin as she wiggled and bucked her feet, until I was sure that she wasn't able to breathe. I let her rest for a moment, but she wouldn't stop laughing. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her feet were still moving hectically. When she finally calmed down, I asked her, "Too much?"
"Haha... No... I don't think so," she uttered between gasps.
"Are you sure? It looks like you--" I was interrupted by her foot, which threw itself into my mouth. I let it stay. I knelt down over her legs, brought her feet in close to my face, and took my time giving them a good licking. She laid back, seemingly relaxed, giggling every time my tongue found its way between her toes.
As I was sucking at her ankles, she began to tell me her feelings on the matter. "I have been with a foot man before," she told me. "It seems that the only thing he cared about was feet. I would let him have my feet, and afterwards, he would want nothing else. The sex was awful. When I could convince him to do it with something other than my feet, it was fast and lazy. And he was forever creeping up on me, catching me off guard, trying to tickle me. I could be with my friends, or even sleeping, and he would still tickle me. I couldn't stand it. He did it all the time, with no breaks. You see how I am when I am tickled. It was ridiculous."
By this point, I had stopped suckling her feet. I left them dripping with saliva in my lap, not paying them any attention. Instead, I listened to her story with intense feelings of guilt. Her feet were, after all, my primary interest in her. I felt like she was comparing me to her other boyfriend.
"He never did anything to please me," she continued. "It was always feet, feet, feet. I don't have a problem with a man's sexual impulses, but I don't like when a man is dominated by them and nothing else." She gave me a stare. I melted with guilt.
"I'm sorry," I said to her. I could have said so much more, but my tongue was tied.
I was considering leaving when Oxana rose from the couch. "Let this be your first test, Fritjof. I've pleased you." She made for a room near the back of the dorm, which I could only assume was the bedroom. "Now you come and please me."
I obeyed.
Having said that... For the rest of you, this is my story.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Friend" is the key word. I wasn't dating this girl, at least not yet. As of then, she was just someone I hung out with at the university. But she was hot enough to melt the skin off the devil, and I sure as hell wanted her.
Her name was Oxana. Russian. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin. Only an inch or two shorter than me. She spoke with this thick Slovak accent, but she used English perfectly. Something about those Eastern European accents really turns me on. But I digress.
We were in the same class at Columbia, and we only knew each other through mutual friends. Whenever we hung out, it was in the company of five or more people. We hadn't spoken once until she found out that I'm Danish. God knows why that appealed to her, but it did. But who cares? She liked me, and I wasn't complaining.
There was one night when Oxana and I were sitting around in her dorm room. We weren't alone at first, but as the night wore on, the rest of our friends gradually funneled out the door until it was just her and I left watching a movie. Apocalypse Now, it might have been. Oxana's never been a big fan of war movies, and I could clearly tell she was bored. But she kept it on for me. She must have assumed I would be leaving soon. She couldn't have been further from the truth.
In her boredom, Oxana slumped down against the armrest of the couch. I was sitting on the other side, trying not to be tempted by her body. But the more bored she got, the more she seemed to spread out on the couch. It wasn't long before she was wholly lying down with her feet curled up by my thigh. She was wearing those classic white ankle socks, a tiny bit of dirt staining the bottoms. I'm a big foot fetishist myself, and I can't stand when girls wear these kinds of socks. They're just so endearing, the way they show off every curve and contour of a beautiful foot, but without spoiling the mystery of what it looks like underneath. I'm normally not very forthcoming with my fetishes, but Oxana was so beautiful, and her feet were so close to me, that I simply couldn't resist.
"Still awake?" I asked her. She groaned in response. I think she was getting ready to fall asleep. Now, I'm a timid guy, and I've never been one to jump right to the point. If I was going to do anything to Oxana, I wanted to make sure it seemed as normal as possible.
"We can shut it off it you want, Oxana. I'll let you go to sleep."
She groaned again. She must have been saying something, but her face was buried in a pillow. In any case, she didn't move.
"No?" I asked. "Well, I'm going to stick around to finish this movie, then. Think you can give me some room?"
"No," she said, pulling her face from the pillow. She turned to look at the TV again. Her hair was messy from the pillow, with loose, golden strands hanging down all over her face. She was so humble. It was beautiful. Focus, I told myself. You can have her face any time you want. But this may be your only chance to have her feet.
"No?" I asked.
"No," she repeated. "I'm comfortable."
"Oxana, your feet are on me."
"On you?" she said, her voice carrying a flirtatious undertone. "They are not on you. This is on you." Suddenly, her feet were rested on my shoulder. When I turned to look at her, I got a faceful of her socks. I coughed to hide a groan of pleasure.
"Oxana!" I said to her. "This is a little obtrusive."
"You'll just have to deal with it, darling," she said to me, her thick Russian accent making me burn with lust. "I'm quite comfortable." Her feet rubbed together by my cheek.
That was the last straw. I couldn't stand it any longer. I reached up and stroked her foot with my index finger. She immediately retracted her feet. "Oh? Is someone getting a little temperamental?"
I laughed. "Is someone getting a little ticklish?"
Oxana smirked at me. She didn't seem quite so tired anymore. "Come now, Frit. Be a gentleman. I wish to stretch my legs." This time, her feet appeared on my lap. Her shapely ankles were just over my manhood, and it took everything I had to restrain myself. How fortunate that I was wearing sturdy pants.
"Oxana, I'm trying to enjoy the movie."
"You told me you've seen it before, Fritjof."
"Well, I want to watch it again."
"Then watch."
"Your feet, Oxana."
"What about my feet?" They were still in my lap at this point.
"They're distracting."
"Oh?" Oxana asked, her face peaked with curiosity. She wiggled her toes in my lap. "Distracting how?"
I didn't want to tell her about my fetish just yet. This was, after all, the first time Oxana and I had hung out alone. But I'd come this far, and I wasn't ready to pass up such a golden opportunity. I ignored her question and quickly tickled one of her feet. She retracted them. "You and the tickling! What has gotten into you?"
"As far as I can tell, it's the only way to keep your feet away from me. It's working pretty well, isn't it?"
"I wouldn't say that," Oxana replied cheekily before putting her feet in my lap a second time. I tickled them gently, but she didn't move. I tickled them a little more seriously. She gasped and wiggled her feet a little, but she still didn't retract them. I looked at her, and she smirked at me. "Who is so smart now?"
"Getting brave, are we?" I said tauntingly. I tickled her around the rims of both of her soles, moving occasionally to the space just beneath her toes. She giggled and jerked her ankles quite a bit, but she didn't budge an inch from my lap. I had to give her credit. She was clearly ticklish, but she was holding her ground. Russians are tough like bull.
"Give up, Frit. You can't make me move my feet."
"Don't you tempt me, Oxana. I can do far worse than this."
"Oh?" she said in an openly flirtatious tone. "Show me."
Just the response I was hoping for. I held up her feet by the heels and carefully slipped off her socks. As the cotton peeled away, I was treated to a view of two of the most beautiful feet I had ever seen. They were no whiter than the rest of her skin, possibly even a little bit darker. That was good. It meant that she went barefoot often. Her feet were of a good size; not huge, but not so petite that it seemed unnatural. She had some of the smoothest skin I've ever seen. Her feet were totally free of wrinkles, even on the bottoms. I looked over her toes, perfectly aligned, and found myself overcome by the urge to put them in my mouth.
Oxana giggled, wiggling her toes at their newfound freedom. "What now, Mr. Tough Man?" She was provoking me. I wonder if she knew what she was in for.
I dragged my finger along the top of her bare foot. She squealed loudly with a sound like "Eeee!"
"Jeez!" I said to her. "You sure you can handle this?"
"The question is, Frit: Are you sure you can handle this?" She cheekily stroked her heel along my lap. She caught me off guard, and I let out a quick, involuntary groan. I looked at her, and she was smiling devilishly. She knew.
"Oxana, I..."
"You have a foot fetish, don't you, Frit?"
"Erm..."
She rubbed both of her feet along my crotch. "Yes, you do," she said. "Do not take me for a fool, Fritjof. I know arousal when I see it."
"Oxana, stop."
"Or what?" she said, her feet still massaging my groin.
My mind was clouding up with arousal. "Or this," I said, and at that moment, my id took control. I grabbed her by the feet and tickled her relentlessly along her defenseless soles. She squealed at first, but it quickly grew into a full-fledged scream, choked by the occasional fit of laughter. I was sure the entire building could hear us, but I didn't care. Her feet were my possessions. I dragged my fingers along her sweet, bare skin as she wiggled and bucked her feet, until I was sure that she wasn't able to breathe. I let her rest for a moment, but she wouldn't stop laughing. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her feet were still moving hectically. When she finally calmed down, I asked her, "Too much?"
"Haha... No... I don't think so," she uttered between gasps.
"Are you sure? It looks like you--" I was interrupted by her foot, which threw itself into my mouth. I let it stay. I knelt down over her legs, brought her feet in close to my face, and took my time giving them a good licking. She laid back, seemingly relaxed, giggling every time my tongue found its way between her toes.
As I was sucking at her ankles, she began to tell me her feelings on the matter. "I have been with a foot man before," she told me. "It seems that the only thing he cared about was feet. I would let him have my feet, and afterwards, he would want nothing else. The sex was awful. When I could convince him to do it with something other than my feet, it was fast and lazy. And he was forever creeping up on me, catching me off guard, trying to tickle me. I could be with my friends, or even sleeping, and he would still tickle me. I couldn't stand it. He did it all the time, with no breaks. You see how I am when I am tickled. It was ridiculous."
By this point, I had stopped suckling her feet. I left them dripping with saliva in my lap, not paying them any attention. Instead, I listened to her story with intense feelings of guilt. Her feet were, after all, my primary interest in her. I felt like she was comparing me to her other boyfriend.
"He never did anything to please me," she continued. "It was always feet, feet, feet. I don't have a problem with a man's sexual impulses, but I don't like when a man is dominated by them and nothing else." She gave me a stare. I melted with guilt.
"I'm sorry," I said to her. I could have said so much more, but my tongue was tied.
I was considering leaving when Oxana rose from the couch. "Let this be your first test, Fritjof. I've pleased you." She made for a room near the back of the dorm, which I could only assume was the bedroom. "Now you come and please me."
I obeyed.
Last edited:
