SUPERBOWL SUNDAY, 1994
(A True Tale of Tickling)
This story involves my wife's feet and is 100% true. As a note of warning, this event is in the same vein as my previous stories (e.g., _My Sister's Slumber Party_), so if tickling feet, especially those of a woman who is helplessly sleeping, isn't your cup of tea, hit 'n' now; otherwise... :)
This year's Superbowl 'Party' was kind of quiet for my wife & I. She is currently pregnant with twins, and has been generally fatigued for the past few months, as the weight and sheer volume the twins take up has made
sleeping very difficult for her (and me).
She and I ordered a pizza, and had ourselves a little party for two to watch the Dallas-Buffalo (re-)match. As you all may know, the exciting part of the game was the first half. I was stretched out on the couch; my wife was reclined in the lay-zee-boy. She has found that this is the most comfortable piece of furniture in the house while she is in her condition.
As I said, the first half was the exciting part of the game. At half-time, when the Judds came on for the halftime show, the mute button got pushed (neither one of us are C+W fans :) ). I was reading the Sunday paper, and I kind of lost track of time (it WAS a boring Superbowl IMHO).
After a while I looked up, and noticed two ( make that three ) things:
The game was back on, Dallas was winning (again), and my wife was sound asleep, gently snoring. An evil thought came to me, and I smiled slyly.
My wife's obstetrician (sp.) pulled me aside in November to tell me that because my wife was carrying twins, and because of some other very minor complications, she was deeming our pregnancy to be medium-risk. "What does this mean?", I asked, already guessing the answer. "No sex until after the twins are born", she replied. Knowing that there was a good chance of a C-section being required, I figured this would work out to about six weeks after their birth until we could have sex again (June'94)! What a predicament!
My very understanding wife, knowing my predilection towards her beautiful feet, joked with me that I would get to know her feet pretty well before this pregnancy was over. And boy, has she been right! ;)
Anyway, getting back to the situation being described here: My wife was gently snoring on the lay-zee-boy, her slippered feet dangling off the part of the chair that supports one's legs, right at eye-level, if one was laying on the floor in front of them ;). I decided that the game was a blow-out (it was the 3rd quarter by this time), and that I would take her up on her standing offer to let me play with her toes. Besides, maybe I could provide her with an interesting dream or two!
I got up, grabbed an afghan, and gently covered my napping bride, naturally leaving her feet exposed ;). I got a pillow from the couch, and lay on my stomach at the foot of the chair, looking right at eye-level at her bunny-slippered feet, the tips of her sock-covered feet just peeking out of the toes of the slippers. I could also see up to her beautiful, peaceful, resting face. Luckily, the pregancy has not caused her face (or her feet) to swell up, as is common with pregnant women. I saw that she was breathing slowly and regularly; I had shut off the lights in the family room, and just the light of the muted TV and the warm fire in the fireplace was enough to give a basking glow to the scene.
I gently pulled off the bunny slippers from her feet. She is quite a sound sleeper, and her general lack of sleep lately had allowed her to go deep into dreamland right there in the chair. I was able to slowly, gently, peel off her socks (those thick kind women (and men) wear around the house when they're 'slumming' around w/o other footwear), without causing so much as a hitch in her breathing.
I lay there and looked for a moment at my wife's lovely feet, the only sounds being the crackle of the fire in the fireplace, and her soft breathing.
As I've stated in an earlier post, my wife, who is quite slender when she's not carrying twins :), has beautiful long legs, slim ankles, ending in peds which have fairly long, straight toes, with the 2nd toes slightly longer than the big toes; a sexy little mole on the side of her 3rd toe on the left foot; nails well taken care of, with pearly pink nail polish. And quite ticklish, I might add. I wanted her to be able to get her much-needed rest, but I also knew (from previous experience ;) ) that if I was careful, she could sleep and I could still tickle her feet, causing them to wiggle and flex, even getting on occasion a little giggle or moan out of her, and with luck I wouldn't rouse
her from her deep sleep. I promised myself (for her) that if it looked like sh was waking up, I would stop and let her sleep.
I started by kissing the tips of her toes on both feet, my moustache brushing the tops of her toes, tickling them just enough to get the tiniest wiggle from her toes. I then began to lightly stroke the sole of one of her feet with my fingers, more caressing than tickling. The sweet aroma of her toes filled my nostrils. As my caresses turned into tickling, the big toe of her foot began to periodically flex up, sometimes coming down on top of her longer second toe, pushing it down like she does sometimes when she stretches her toes right after kicking off her shoes.
I started tickling the other foot (wouldn't want to show preferential treatment to one or the other :) ), causing the toes on that foot to flex and wiggle. The feet themselves only twitched slightly during this tickling; most of the action came from the toes themselves.
Tickling the soft part of her toes, under the curl of the toes, caused her to bunch her toes, momentarily gripping my tickling fingers. Her toes would then relax, and my fingers would be freed, going on to do more tickling.
Gently tickling the soles of both feet simultaneously caused both feet to twitch, and my wife then momentarily pinched her knees together, as if trying to move her legs (and her feet), out of the way. Her legs then relaxed, and my wife shifted her head to the side. I waited for a moment, not wanting to wake her up.
I decided to switch from using my fingers to using my tongue and moustache to tickle her feet. I began to lick the tips and undersides of her toes, savoring the slightly salty taste of her feet, feeling her toes wiggle against my tongue, vainly trying to get away. Or, maybe they were wiggling and flexing in pleasure, as from my angle at the foot of the chair, I could see a smile form on my wife's face, and she made a slight sighing sound that almost sounded like a giggle. I began to lick other parts of one foot, caressing and tickling the other. Every 10 seconds or so, a moan/sigh/giggle would escape my wifes lips, her head shifting every so often, smiles playing across her face even though she was asleep.
I became so engrossed in licking and tickling my wife's feet, that I didn't realize until I looked up when I heard my wife clear her throat that she had woken up! The feeling of guilt that immediately flooded me passed when my sweet wife giggled and said, "Don't stop now! You've been giving me some *very* nasty dreams...and it seems like you're playing out one of yours right now!". I would *never* dream of letting down my wife by not following a suggestion like that from my wife, so I continued to kiss, lick, tickle and generally worship her feet for quite a while after that.
We never did see the end of the Superbowl, but who cares?!?!?