blur_5
TMF Novice
- Joined
- Apr 14, 2006
- Messages
- 68
- Points
- 33
Ok, so I need to back up a little. Before Amanda (my wife), there was Elisa (her cousin). But I didn't meet her the way you'd think. This was the 90s. IRC days. I was on the DalNet network, specifically the #mexico channel. That's where I first "met" Elisa. She was cool. We hit it off. We'd talk online for hours.
At the time, I was dating someone else. So Elisa and I were just friends at first. We'd hang out in group settings, grab food, maybe catch a movie. I liked her. She was nice, not in a pushover way, just genuinely pleasant to be around. She was thin, but not skinny. Tall for a Mexican girl, but not too tall. A little grunge, but not so much that it felt like a costume.
She was also what we'd call a "whitexican" in Mexico. That's not an insult, it's just a way to describe someone with lighter skin, often from a family with more European ancestry. In a country that can be pretty classist, it meant she came from money. Nice neighborhood, private schools, etc. And I was just some dude from a middle-class family. You could say she was out of my league (it could sound like I'm bragging, but most of my gfs in theory were out of my league). But she never made me feel that way. She was just cool.
Then my girlfriend at the time broke up with me. She left me for some other guy. Taller than me. Better looking than me. Can't really blame her, honestly. And it was all my fault; I jokingly introduced her to a dating site called cupido.net. "Look at these idiots," and she found him there. When people asked me, I just shrugged, "I'm an idiot."
Anyway, Elisa was there. We started hanging out more. One thing led to another, and we started dating. It wasn't too serious because she knew about my ex (actually, she met her) and felt we started dating too soon.
Here's the thing: Elisa already knew I liked feet. I'd mentioned it at some point. Brought it up in that casual way you bring up things you're nervous about, like you're testing the waters. She listened. She didn't judge. But whenever I'd try to push the topic, she'd just shrug.
"My feet aren't ticklish," she'd say. "Sorry to disappoint." I didn't push. Not then. But one afternoon, we were at my place. I don't even know how the topic came up again. But this time, I asked directly. "Can I tickle your feet?"
She looked at me. Thought about it. Then smiled.
"Sure," she said. "But I'm telling you they're not ticklish."
I'd never seen her feet bare before. She always wore socks. Always. I don't know if it was a comfort thing or a modesty thing, but I was about to find out.
She removed her socks. And there they were. Her feet were incredibly soft. I mean, incredibly. Like she'd never walked on anything rough in her life. The skin was smooth, she had nice arches. Her toes were perfectly shaped. I could tell she took care of them.
"OK," she said, stretching out on the bed. "But I told you, don't expect much."
I started with her soles. Just my fingers, light. Tracing circles. She twitched. Just slightly. Her foot pulled back slightly. But then she stiffened. Her whole foot went rigid. She was holding it. Controlling the sensation. I tried again. Same thing. Her feet just... stopped reacting. Like she'd mentally walled them off.
"See?" she said, a little smug. "Told you."
Her feet were warm. Really warm. And they had this light smell. I buried my face in her arch without thinking. She laughed a little, not because it tickled but because of how ridiculous I was, but she didn't pull away.
"Alright," I said. "Your feet aren't ticklish."
She smiled. "I warned you."
But I wasn't done. I moved fast. Before she could react, I went for her sides.
"WAIT"
Too late. I dug my fingers into the soft spot below her ribs and she burst. Not a giggle. Not a laugh. A full, uncontrollable scream of laughter. Her whole body jumped. She tried to curl into a ball but I was already there.
"NO, WAIT"
She was trying to push my hands away but she was laughing too hard to coordinate. Her arms were flailing. She was absolutely losing it.
I tried to go back to her feet, really, just to see, but nope. Her feet were still dead zones. Complete silence from her soles. But her sides? Her sides were alive. And then I found something she didn't even know about herself. Her knees.
I moved my hands down, just tracing along her inner thigh toward her knee, and she tensed. Then I barely squished her knee and she squealed.
"NO, NOT THERE"
She didn't even know. This girl who claimed her feet weren't ticklish had knees that were absolutely devastating. Every time I squished that spot, her whole body jerked. She was begging. Laughing so hard she couldn't breathe.
I kept going. Five minutes, I think. Her knees, her sides, switching between the two. She was a mess, hair everywhere, face red, tears in her eyes from laughing.
"OK, OK" she finally gasped. "That's enough."
I stopped. Sat back. She lay there, completely wrecked. Shirt twisted. Socks long forgotten. Feet still soft and warm, now twitching involuntarily.
"So," I said. "Your feet aren't ticklish."
She laughed. "Shut up."
"But your knees..."
"SHUT UP."
A few months later, Elisa introduced me to her cousin Amanda. Amanda was staying with Elisa for a while, she'd just gotten out of a rough relationship and needed a place to stay.
But that's a story for another time.
At the time, I was dating someone else. So Elisa and I were just friends at first. We'd hang out in group settings, grab food, maybe catch a movie. I liked her. She was nice, not in a pushover way, just genuinely pleasant to be around. She was thin, but not skinny. Tall for a Mexican girl, but not too tall. A little grunge, but not so much that it felt like a costume.
She was also what we'd call a "whitexican" in Mexico. That's not an insult, it's just a way to describe someone with lighter skin, often from a family with more European ancestry. In a country that can be pretty classist, it meant she came from money. Nice neighborhood, private schools, etc. And I was just some dude from a middle-class family. You could say she was out of my league (it could sound like I'm bragging, but most of my gfs in theory were out of my league). But she never made me feel that way. She was just cool.
Then my girlfriend at the time broke up with me. She left me for some other guy. Taller than me. Better looking than me. Can't really blame her, honestly. And it was all my fault; I jokingly introduced her to a dating site called cupido.net. "Look at these idiots," and she found him there. When people asked me, I just shrugged, "I'm an idiot."
Anyway, Elisa was there. We started hanging out more. One thing led to another, and we started dating. It wasn't too serious because she knew about my ex (actually, she met her) and felt we started dating too soon.
Here's the thing: Elisa already knew I liked feet. I'd mentioned it at some point. Brought it up in that casual way you bring up things you're nervous about, like you're testing the waters. She listened. She didn't judge. But whenever I'd try to push the topic, she'd just shrug.
"My feet aren't ticklish," she'd say. "Sorry to disappoint." I didn't push. Not then. But one afternoon, we were at my place. I don't even know how the topic came up again. But this time, I asked directly. "Can I tickle your feet?"
She looked at me. Thought about it. Then smiled.
"Sure," she said. "But I'm telling you they're not ticklish."
I'd never seen her feet bare before. She always wore socks. Always. I don't know if it was a comfort thing or a modesty thing, but I was about to find out.
She removed her socks. And there they were. Her feet were incredibly soft. I mean, incredibly. Like she'd never walked on anything rough in her life. The skin was smooth, she had nice arches. Her toes were perfectly shaped. I could tell she took care of them.
"OK," she said, stretching out on the bed. "But I told you, don't expect much."
I started with her soles. Just my fingers, light. Tracing circles. She twitched. Just slightly. Her foot pulled back slightly. But then she stiffened. Her whole foot went rigid. She was holding it. Controlling the sensation. I tried again. Same thing. Her feet just... stopped reacting. Like she'd mentally walled them off.
"See?" she said, a little smug. "Told you."
Her feet were warm. Really warm. And they had this light smell. I buried my face in her arch without thinking. She laughed a little, not because it tickled but because of how ridiculous I was, but she didn't pull away.
"Alright," I said. "Your feet aren't ticklish."
She smiled. "I warned you."
But I wasn't done. I moved fast. Before she could react, I went for her sides.
"WAIT"
Too late. I dug my fingers into the soft spot below her ribs and she burst. Not a giggle. Not a laugh. A full, uncontrollable scream of laughter. Her whole body jumped. She tried to curl into a ball but I was already there.
"NO, WAIT"
She was trying to push my hands away but she was laughing too hard to coordinate. Her arms were flailing. She was absolutely losing it.
I tried to go back to her feet, really, just to see, but nope. Her feet were still dead zones. Complete silence from her soles. But her sides? Her sides were alive. And then I found something she didn't even know about herself. Her knees.
I moved my hands down, just tracing along her inner thigh toward her knee, and she tensed. Then I barely squished her knee and she squealed.
"NO, NOT THERE"
She didn't even know. This girl who claimed her feet weren't ticklish had knees that were absolutely devastating. Every time I squished that spot, her whole body jerked. She was begging. Laughing so hard she couldn't breathe.
I kept going. Five minutes, I think. Her knees, her sides, switching between the two. She was a mess, hair everywhere, face red, tears in her eyes from laughing.
"OK, OK" she finally gasped. "That's enough."
I stopped. Sat back. She lay there, completely wrecked. Shirt twisted. Socks long forgotten. Feet still soft and warm, now twitching involuntarily.
"So," I said. "Your feet aren't ticklish."
She laughed. "Shut up."
"But your knees..."
"SHUT UP."
A few months later, Elisa introduced me to her cousin Amanda. Amanda was staying with Elisa for a while, she'd just gotten out of a rough relationship and needed a place to stay.
But that's a story for another time.
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