Tickled Until I Had A Squirting Climax! at greatfeet.com - A Great Feet Foot Fetish Story Publication

Tickled Until I Had A Squirting Climax!
Published early as a preview here in our chat forum on Monday, September 25, 2017.
Official publication date for the main page of our site: Thursday, September 28, 2017.

This story was submitted anonymously.

To post your comments about this story, click/tap this post in our chat forum.

Note: It's easier, and more comprehensive to participate in our chat forum as a member so that you can delete/edit your own posts as you desire.

Membership is free. You can actually maintain an anonymous identity. You can also keep your email address hidden from the public as that's the default setting.

To register for free in our chat forum, click/tap this link, and have fun!

Being a married woman who is otherwise faithful to my husband, I did something I thought I'd never do, which is very naughtily illustrated in the video featured in my story.

I should mention that my husband doesn't have a foot fetish, nor is he into tickling. I don't have a foot fetish either, but I've had a fascination for foot tickling ever since a friend of my brother's started playfully wrestling me to the ground to tickle my feet. I was 7 or 8 at the time, and he was 9 or 10 the same as my brother.

"Get off of her you pervert," my brother would say while intervening to pull him off.

"Oh come on," he'd protest. "She likes having her feet tickled."

"No I don't!" I'd protest.

"See?" My brother would say.

I actually did like having my feet tickled. It gave me an euphoric thrill even though I had no idea at that young age why I felt the way I did about it. I certainly had no clue that it was sexual in nature.

In retrospect, my brother's friend probably had no idea, either. He just knew that he liked it, too. Surely he felt the same euphoric thrill that I did about it, and in retrospect he either had a tickling fetish, or a foot fetish, or both.

Many years later a next door neighbor's young son would tickle my feet every chance he got, and she was always mortified whenever her son would suddenly grab onto my feet to tickle them. She would very quickly apologize to me for it, and then send him away after giving him a good scolding. He was only about 8 or 9 as I recall, and I could see from the little boner he got that it really turned him on to tickle my feet.

"I don't know what's wrong with him," his mom would say with embarrassment, "but he's always had a thing for tickling feet. He used to try tickling my feet, but I put a stop to that right away."

"He probably just has a foot fetish," I told her. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"Well, whatever he has," she replied, "I wish he would get over it."

I never really knew firsthand about about guys who had foot fetishes, but that first experience with my brother's friend likely introduced me to it without knowing it because I had been so young.

In retrospect as I think about it now, I seem to remember he would develop a wet spot right where his cock was hidden in his jeans after tickling my feet. I didn't understand it then, and I also didn't understand why I also developed a wet spot in my panties every time he tickled my feet, especially when I struggled to resist him.

The combination of tickling, struggling to resist, and doing something that was decicidely perverted in society's eyes had basically turned my fascination for having my feet tickled into a fetish for it since I was obviously sexually aroused by it. That's why I realized in restrospect that my neighbor's son likely had a foot fetish, or a tickling fetish, or both, which would stay with him for life.

That fascination for having my feet tickled lead me to search the Internet, which lead me to this greatfeet.com site. That in turn provided me with a lot of insight to guys with foot fetishes, especially the ones who also got off on tickling feet.

As for my neighbor's young son, he grew up, went away to school, and established himself in another city. She talked about him from time to time, but I didn't really give him another thought. After all, the stuff that happened with him was in the past. Or so I thought.

As it turned out, he ended up losing his job, which prompted him to move back home to what he hoped would be a temporary living arrangement with his mom.

One time when I was just finishing the watering of the grass in my front yard, he came over to talk. I was in my bare feet, and I could immediately see that he still had a thing for feet. Of course he did, so I had a little fun reminding him about it.

"Do you still have a foot fetish?" I knowingly asked.

"You know about my foot fetish?" He asked with embarrassment.

"Of course I do," I told him. "How could I not know? You loved tackling me onto the ground to tickle my feet. Don't you remember?"

"I sure do!" He exclaimed. Then he admitted, "In fact, I often think about tickling your feet."

By then he had followed me into my house after I let him know he could come inside.

"Come on," I told him. "If you want to finish the conversation, you might as well come inside."

"Thanks," he replied.

"But I can't let that stop me from finishing my chores," I told him as if he was still a child.

"By all means," he waved me on as he followed me into my bedroom.

"So what goes on in your head when you think of tickling my feet?" I asked with a real curiosity.

"I'm not so sure I should tell you," he said in a low voice I almost couldn't hear.

"You might as well come out with it," I told him as I pulled out a full laundry basket from the closet.

"If I tell you," he tried to explain, "you'll throw me out of your house."

I don't know if I instinctively knew what he wanted to do or if I was hoping it's what he wanted to do, but I thought I might as well take advantage of whatever it was that was going on.

"I'll tell you what," I told him with a smile as he followed me to the laundry room, which was only a few short feet away, "if I guess what you're thinking, will you admit to it?"

"I guess so," he answered, feeling a bit overwhelmed at my enthusiasm.

"When you think of tickling my feet," I told him, "I have a feeling you want to tie me up so that you can tickle my feet as hard as you want."

"How did you know that?!" He exclaimed.

"I didn't know," I admitted. "But I do remember how hard you held my ankles together when you tickled the soles of my feet, and it made me think that you might grow up to be the kind of guy who's into bondage."

He didn't say a word as I finished putting my first load of laundry into the washer, and started it up.

"Cat got your tongue?" I asked.

"Sorry," he stammered. "I guess it did."

"No worries," I told him. "That's a pretty heavy thing to admit."

"Sometimes it's all I can think about when I fantasize about tickling your feet," he confessed.

"Well," I told him, "it sure wasn't appropriate back when you were a child."

"But I'm an adult now," he happily reminded me.

"Right," I acknowledged. "So how old are you now?" I asked.

"I just turned 26," he answered back.

"And you want to tickle the feet of an older woman?" I laughed. I was just joking about being an older woman since I had recently only turned 40, so I was only 14 years older than he was at 26.

"You're hardly an old woman," he laughed in return. Knowing me well enough to give the correct answer, he reminded me that I was the same age as his mother who had turned 40 that past Fall.

"I remember you're a Pisces, too, and the feet are the part of the body associated with that sign," he told me.

"I'm impressed you remembered my birthday, and that you know feet are associated with Pisces," I replied with some amusement.

"Right," he went on to say, "and I remember that your birthday is February 29th."

"You remember my birthday is Febraury 29th?" I asked with amazement. "How would you remember that?"

"Well, that's a very unique date as you know because it only occurs every four years," he said.

"Right you are," I agreed.

"So back to the subject of your feet," he said with an air of confidence since he obviously felt as if he had the upper hand in our conversation.

"What about my feet?" I asked already knowing the answer.

"I want to tickle them again," he straight out told me.

"But you want to tie me down to do it, right?" Asking the question instantly got me wet, and I hoped the thin sweat pants I was wearing wouldn't reveal how obviously aroused I had gotten.

"I'd love to tie you down," he admitted as he gasped with the excitement of that possibility.

"How good are you at doing laundry?" I suddenly asked.

"What?" He asked, his concentration broken by such a mundane question.

"How good are you at doing laundry?" I asked again.

"I'm pretty good at it," he answered back. "I do mine all the time. In fact, I'm doing my mom's laundry to give her a break, and for helping me out by letting me stay at home for a while."

"That's nice of you to do," I told him. "The reason I ask is because if I let you tie me up to tickle my feet, the rest of my laundry isn't going to do itself."

Obviously glad to to do it, he almost didn't let me finish my sentence. "Consider it done!" He exclaimed.

"Good," I told him. Then I laid out some ground rules.

"You know that I'm married, right?" I asked.

He nodded his head to confirm he knew.

"Then there's to be no sex between us," I told him, "and you can't tell my husband or anybody else because he won't understand, and he'd probably get hurt if he ever found out."

He nodded his head in confirmation.

"And if I let you tie me up," I continued, "you have to leave my clothes on."

"Clothes on!" He confirmed. "No worries."

A married friend of mine had handed me down some used bondage gear when she and her husband replaced theirs. She had hoped the bondage gear she gave me would inspire my husband to get into some bondage sex with me, and with them as a foursome. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon since I hadn't told my husband about it because he's just too damned vanilla about sex,.

"Okay," I told him. "Now that we have that out of the way, you should be able to find out what you need in the shoebox up there."

I pointed to a shoe box on the top shelf of our closet.

"This one?" He asked while grabbing onto it.

"That's the one," I answered back.

Even though you can't really see in the video that the woman tied down has her wrists tied together above her to the headboard just as it seems, he did the same to me. In a very similar fashion, I was tied down the same way you see in the video.

Video:

I could tell right from the start that this young 26 year old had a lot of experience with bondage, and he was hard the entire time he expertly tied me down. Even though there was a blindfold in the shoebox, he didn't use it, and I didn't ask to be blindfolded even though I wouldn't have objected. As it turned out, I rather enjoyed being able to see a mirror image of what he was doing to me thanks to the wall length mirror in oue bedroom.

Not only were my wrists tied together tightly and well, and secured to the headboard so that there would be no chance of me breaking free, be he also tied my elbows, knees, and ankles together tightly and well. Somewhat to my surprise because of how tightly and well I was tied, I was nonetheless quite comfortable with no restriction of blood flow.

But I most defintely had a restriction of body movement since he had pulled my body taut before expertly securing my bound ankles to the bed's lower frame. I was effectively immobilized, which I could tell aroused him greatly. It aroused me to the point that when I started climaxng from the friction felt along my pussy and clit through those thin sweat pants of mine while struggling to stop the tickling he was giving me so ferociously at times, the multiple orgasms that he induced from me were ucontrolled, and intensely pleasurable.

He must have known ahead of time that this might happen because, unlike the video, he had placed a couple of thick towels underneath my hips to sop up all of the fluids that squirted, and poured out of me so uncontrollably. The following snapshots pics don't show the towels because the woman you see isn't actually me.

Snapshots:

...

At one point when all I really did was to mockingly protest, he reached in past the top of my sweat pants to stick his fingers into and around my pussy to soak them with my juices as he proudly exclaimed when pulling out his hand to show me, "Wow! Look at how much I made you squirt?!"

"I can't believe you made me squirt so hard, and so many times," I told him in amazement. "And the tickling was so intense at times that I could hardly take it," I added.

"I know," he agreed. "Wasn't it great?"

As you might imagine, it wasn't the only time I let him tie me down to tickle my feet.

One of the benefits of letting him do this to me from time to time was that sex with my husband suddenly became very regular much to his delight.

This story was submitted anonymously.

To post your comments about this story, click/tap this post in our chat forum.

Note: It's easier, and more comprehensive to participate in our chat forum as a member so that you can delete/edit your own posts as you desire.

Membership is free. You can actually maintain an anonymous identity. You can also keep your email address hidden from the public as that's the default setting.

To register for free in our chat forum, click/tap this link, and have fun!

Back to the Story Gallery

Great Feet Foot Fetish Menu

- END -