Summer's Over, BUT ...
(Published on Sunday, October 3, 2004)
This story was submitted anonymously.
To read previous stories written by this author, start with Bar-B-Q Tickle.
The other night I had the opportunity to do something I had waited for around 2 years. The youngest of the barmaids at my favorite watering hole, Mandy, now plays on our Table Bowling Team, (Amusement game that looks like a bowling alley and you knock down the pins with a puck).
Mandy isn’t the prettiest girl around and has a bit too much “drama” in her young life (she’s about 24), for my taste, but she is a very sweet young lady and has another quality that I like.
For the past couple of years I have been able to take
advantage of the fact that she is ticklish in her
upper body. I’ve poked her, squeezed her and managed to tickle her around the ribs and hips numerous times. Of course being a foot guy, I’ve always wanted to hit her feet, but since she always has to wear shoes to work there, that wasn’t going to happen.
During last nights game the team Captain called me over and wanted to talk to me. I squatted at the end of the table, facing her, but to my right was Mandy. For the first time since I’ve known her was wearing something other than sneakers. She had on Flip-flops.
To make a long story short, when the Captain got up to bowl, I turned to Mandy and said, “Sending a mixed message are we?” And while I spoke, I pulled at her sweatshirt. That was with my left hand. My right was already moving towards her right foot, which was under her left leg, hanging off the end of her chair. Her flip-flop was hanging just enough off her foot to allow my fingers to reach in-between her shoe and the sole of her foot. I said, “Cold up here and too warm down here?” I started to wiggle my fingers across the sole of her foot.
She let out a huge “YIKES!” and had trouble getting her foot out from under her leg as I tickled her foot. She let out a few laughs and finally managed to get away after about 6 or 7 seconds of being tickled. She firmly planted her feet on the floor and said, “Stop that. You know I’m ticklish.”
For the remainder of the evening she always made sure her feet where on the floor as I passed by, even if I saw she was sitting with her foot in the same position, which she continued to do through the rest of the evening. And for the record, I think her feet are her most ticklish spot, as she takes the rib tickling with good humor.
I also had a minor score with another team member, Donna.
She always comes to practice and to games wearing sneakers (for the
first 3 weeks at least). That same night she shows up in sandals. I
watched all night for the chance to “drop” something to get at her
feet, but it never happened, and she
never put her feet in a position that I could get at them without being obvious about it.
But before the last game she was worried about doing well and I tried to relax her by talking to her and telling her it’s mostly about having fun. She folded her arms on the table, and put her head on her crossed arms. She muttered something I couldn't really hear.
I was standing behind her, reached down, and squeezed
and massaged her shoulders a bit, and told her
again to just relax and have fun. She asked me not to stop. So I continued to rub her shoulders for a while, and then started to move further down the center of her back. I knew where this was going to go, so I kept it up.
A couple of times she made comments about how good it felt, so I kept going until I got done with the middle of her back. I started to work on the outsides towards her ribs, just squeezing and rubbing until I got about half way down. Then I made sure that my fingers where securely in between a few of her ribs, and then I squeezed, knowing that I was trying to tickle her ribs (had to do something, since I couldn’t get to her feet).
She yelled, sprung back up off the table and slammed her arms down around my hands.
I said, “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She said, “I’m just kind of sensitive around my ribs, but you didn’t hurt me.”
“Oh shit,” I said. “I hit a spot that
hurt you, and you’re just being nice about it.” She still had my
hands trapped up against her ribs and wasn’t letting go (I put on my best 'hurt feelings face').
“NO!” She said. “Damn! Promise not
to tell anyone, but I’m really ticklish.” I wiggled my fingers
against her ribs. She squirmed, started to giggle a bit, and said, “Knock it off. PLEASE!”
She grabbed my hands and removed them from her ribs. She told me, “It’s not that I mind being tickled. I just hate it being done in public.”
I wonder where this will end up?
This story was submitted anonymously.
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