Aunt Trish
Published early as a preview here in our chat forum on Tuesday, September 7, 2021.
Official publication date for the main page of our site: Wednesday, September 8, 2021.

This story was submitted anonymously by Skipididoda.

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To read this author's 1st story go to "My Aunt Beryl's Ticklish Nylon Feet".

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Aunt Trish was the older of the three sisters. She was also the odd one out in terms of dresswear, general mannerisms, and life style. But to me, nevertheless the aunt who, for me, was the one who made me understand what was going on inside, and guided me into a position to accept that my feelings would never change.

Back in those days, before the dawn of the internet, there was no information on this topic. So for us more mature guys out there, I certainly believed that I was the only one in the world who felt this thing, and I was totally isolated until this experience with aunt Trish.   

I was thirteen, and I remember, as I had been seeing my second girlfriend from school. She was a shade younger than I, gorgeous looking back then, and as we all did back in our teenage years, we thought we were madly in love. My feelings for bare nylon covered feet to tickle, and a ticklish lady overrode the feelings I had for her as a girl, but I nevertheless found the experience and exploration of her very exciting. So I felt comfortable with my sexual orientation, but I'd never tell her the whole truth in the fear she would think of me as some sort of freak, and give me the elbow.

Let me tell you about Aunt Trish. Physically smaller, plumper, and way so different. She married a farmer, and they lived in a cottage in the middle of nowhere. For whatever reason, he was working all god's hours, and I think aunt Trish got bored. She spread her wings, things turned sour, and she was on her own. But she stayed in the cottage in Dorset.

She was a bit of a hippy type, all crystals and feathers. She dressed in long flowing dresses, or just jeans, and she was a bit of a biker chick as well. She never had a drivers license. She had lots of male friends, and not too many girlfriends. In fact, she didn’t really see eye to eye with her other sisters. I overheard things that were discussed, but I never took much notice, as I really liked her for her open mindedness. She also drunk pints of beer, and smoked like a chimney.

Mum had met a new fella, and they were seeing one another. I didn’t have a great deal to do with him, and I remember one weekend they wanted to go away. She asked me if I would stay with my grandparents, but I asked if I could stay with Aunt Trish, as I loved knocking around the farm.

A phone call, and a car trip, and I was at aunt Trish’s. I remember it being very cold. There was snow laying around. I was still friendly with Brian, my aunt’s ex, and he set up jobs around the farm, which I loved doing. My aunt went off to the shops with her friend. The day flew past, and I went back to my aunt’s cottage for supper.

After we ate, we sat down in the front room in front of the open fire.

“My god! It was so cold today,” my aunt said.

She was wearing a long dress. I remember it being very colourful. I sat on the floor with my aunt next to me. The fire was throwing out some heat, and it was very snug.

“My toes got so cold today. They will not thaw out.”

Then my aunt stretched out her leg, and to my complete surprise, there was her foot in a black nylon. It was in reach, and whatever went through my mind, I can’t remember, I lightly pinched her toes with my thumb, and two fingers.

“They feel like blocks of ice, aunty!”

Just to touch her toes was hugely exciting.

“They are freezing, love.”

I rubbed her toes again, and there was no reaction. “Let’s get them warm,” I said.

I was now feeling rather warm in and out myself.  I massaged her toes, and it felt wonderful for the next five minutes.

“That feels good,” said aunty.

“They're warming up.”

Then she lifted her other leg, and offered her other foot.

“You can do those as well.”

I switched to her other foot, just rubbing her toes. I so wanted to feel the rest of her foot, but I was afraid if she was as sensitive as my Mum, and other aunt, then I might just blow the situation. But then I thought, if she was that sensitive, she wouldn’t let me massage her toes like this. I could feel an erection, and was enjoying every second.  Then with my other hand I started to rub her sole keeping just enough pressure as so not to tickle.

“Oh, that feels so good,” said aunty. “You're a very good masseur,” she joked.

“So, you haven’t got ticklish feet aunt, have you?”

I just had to find out.

“I am ticklish, love, but you’re not tickling are you?”

And that was perfect, as I have never had this amount of time with a pair of nylon clad feet, ever. 

For the next half hour or so, I alternated between each foot. She had slightly smaller feet, about size four, I would have said. Her toes were quite dumpy, but had a lovely deep arch. I knew that that evening I had found luck, as I very rarely saw aunt Trish in nylons. In fact, I think only once before.

“You look a bit hot,” said aunty.

I was in heaven.

“You enjoy touching my feet, don’t you?”

That was the prompt to look very embarrassed. I didn’t know what to say. Does she know my feelings? I didn’t know where to put my very red face.

“Don’t worry, love. It's okay. Don’t feel embarrassed. It's fine, honestly.”

Now my mind went into panic mode. Would she tell my Mum? Would she tell anyone else? I got up.

“I'm tired now, aunty I'll get off to bed.”

“Okay. Goodnight, love.”

I retired to bed, but my mind was racing, I couldn’t get the picture of my aunt's feet out of my mind. The feel of the nylon was exciting me in bed, but I was also concerned about what my aunt would think.

I was back home, but was urging to see aunt Trish again as soon as I could. I asked if I could go to the farm, which was a smoke screen, to see my aunt, and I was able to convince all that I would stay over.

That Saturday evening, my aunt went to the village pub, and left me to watch TV. She returned still quite early, but very merry. She was such a good laugh, and she swore, and was risqué.

I was sitting on the couch. My aunt sat next to me, and put her pint of beer onto the coffee table. She then lifted her legs up, and put her feet in my lap. She had socks on!

“Come on love, massage.” She instructed.

This is exactly why I organised another visit, to have her bare feet, but in nylons. It was rather disappointing. I massaged her feet, but obviously not the same as my last visit.

“What’s up love? It doesn’t feel like last time. I thought you liked to touch my feet?”

“I do aunty, I do.”

“So what is different then?”

“Take off my socks if you like?”

“It’s not the socks that is different”

“Oh, I remember. I was wearing tights, wasn’t I?”

“Yes you were aunty.”

“You're lucky. I just bought some this week.”

She got up, went upstairs, and returned a few minutes later with her dressing gown on, and black tights.

“Here you go.”

She put her feet back into my lap. I was feeling very awkward about what she thought about me, but she seemed totally okay. Then the questions I was fearing were asked, as I once again kneaded her feet with both hands.

“So you like my feet, and you like my feet in nylons then, love?”

Sheepishly, I answered, “Yes I do.”

“So do you like other ladies’ feet? Do you touch your girlfriend's feet?”

I was feeling uncomfortable, but also quite relieved that I was talking about it.

“I do like other ladies’ feet, but I could never tell my girlfriend.”

“Okay. I understand,” my aunty said.

I was wearing tight jeans, and my erection was showing, but my aunt couldn’t see until she asked me to get her another drink when I stood up.

To my horror on my return, she asked, “My feet turn you on, don’t they?”

She giggled. I could have been swallowed up in embarrassment. She knew she had put me right on the spot.

“Honestly. Don’t worry, love. Your secret is safe with me, and it's completely normal. I don’t mind. It's only my feet, isn’t it?”

She made me feel a shade easier.  

“So, is it just the sight or feel of my feet?” she quizzed.

“Well, there is something else, aunty.”

“What is it? Please tell me?” She had a big smile.

“Well, I like to tickle feet, and to make someone laugh and giggle.”

“Oh, okay,” she giggled again. “You got a fetish, my lad.”

I didn’t have a clue what she meant.

“What?”

I looked bemused.

“A fetish,” she said again. “It’s a sexual desire for a part of a body or thing.”

She was guiding me through, and answering questions I had questioned myself.

“You have a fetish to tickle nylon feet,” she noted.

“I suppose you're right, aunty,” I replied.

“Well, I think it’s fascinating. I'm going for a smoke, and when I get back, you can tickle my feet.”

She got up, and left the room. I sat there in amazement. She is really going to let me tickle her feet. She said she was ticklish, but I thought, she just can’t be as sensitive as my mum, or Beryl. She returned and offered her right foot to me.

“Have a tickle,” she invited.

I took hold of her foot, and began to gently use two of my fingers to slide over her nylon. I looked at my aunt's face. She was smiling. I used my finger more quickly over her arch this time. There was some reaction.

With a giggle, she let out a shout, “That tickles!”

All of my fingers came into play, and now they were gliding all over the sole of her foot. Her giggle changed into a belly laugh. I kept it up. I had her foot trapped under my arm pit. I tickled more, and more. She bumped off of the couch onto the floor.

“HAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOHAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

She was totally out of control; I had her exactly where I wanted her. She writhed around, and tuned on to her front. I lost her right foot in the battle, but was able to trap her left foot so that her sole was facing up.

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAPLEASEHAAAAAAAPLEASENOOOOOOO!”

I went to town on her left foot. My fingers slid over the soft nylon from her toes to her heel. She was in hysterics. The sound of her harsh laughter excited the hell out of me. I stopped to let her get her breath.

“Oh my god! That tickled. I had no idea I was so ticklish. Nobody has ever done that before.”

She was still puffing. “I bet you liked that love, didn’t you?” She asked as she returned to a sitting position.

She got back onto the couch, and I my erection was bursting. I grabbed her right foot again. I was going to take full advantage of the situation, and her permission to tickle her feet.

“HAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOHAAAAAASCREAMMMMMMM!”

I used my fingernails on her arch. She bucked wildly on the sofa. Her head went back, and pulled me up where she was now in a laying position. I tickled and tickled, and then I had to leave the room to run upstairs.

When I returned, her hair was all over the place, and I could see she had been crying.

“How did that feel then,” my aunt asked.

“Absolutely wonderful,” I said as my whole body was still in a spasm.

“You're funny,” aunty said.

“Aunty, please don’t tell anyone,” I begged.

“Of course I won’t. What happen here tonight will stay in these four walls.”

“Thank you, aunty.”

I would never forget that night at Aunt Trish’s. I would have the opportunity to tickle her once more before she passed away three years ago. I dreamt for weeks after that.