what does my defeat sleeps top-to-toe with her success

^^^ Keen stories guys! Imperial, you should have commented almost her feet and see if you got the same treatment in return!!

This is my next story nigh friend's mothers, and is about a woman called Irene. Irene was the complete opposite of Tina - brusk, squat, frumpy, slightly
pug-faced...not a looker, by whatsoever means! However, a childhood lust for feet, and my confidence having been bolstered past my experiences with Tina, made me want
to play with Irene's feet equally well.

Now, as I've said, she wasn't much of a looker, merely was ever quite easy (somewhen!) to dupe into taking her shoes off. She'd unremarkably clothing
American tan tights, sometimes white tights, and on the odd occassion, sometimes sheer blackness tights. I'd been visiting this friend since I was well-nigh xiii,
and it took almost two or three years to see her feet every bit she was always in shoes or slippers. One day, she came in from working a belatedly shift, and I was at her
front room tabular array doing an essay. My friend was two years older than me, and had helped me out a bit. He was in his chamber on his computer, and and so I was alone
in the front room with Irene. She walked in and said hello, and I explained why I was at that place. She was fine with this, and flopped downwards onto the setee. I
wondered if I'd become to come across her anxiety, and kept looking from the corner of my eye to see any action. She was in open toe sandals and tan tights, and I
eventually saw her slowly brainstorm to loosen the strap on her shoes. Maybe she saw me looking, just she stopped halfway, and just had her feet resting outside her
shoes, role in and out. I was desperate for her to get them off, which after virtually x minutes, she did. After my success with Tina, I realised I had the
chance to do the aforementioned thing with Irene, and fix about thinking of ways to do so.

At the time, I was just coming off a successful spree of asking teachers at school to remove their heels and 'measure' them for a 'science
experiment' (yeah right!). I planned on doing the same thing with Irene, then if my friend wasn't around I'd ask her how alpine she was, and get
her to have her shoes off to evidence me. She'd e'er oblige, no questions asked! One time her slippers came off, I'd curve down and pretend to be measuring
her, accidentally touching the tops or outline of her stocking feet! Other times I'd insist she put her feet upward, as she was always doing housework of some
sort and never relaxed. I'd become her to sit down, pull her feet upward onto the sofa and so take off her slippers to go her comfy.

I eventually mustered up the backbone to become from looking at her anxiety to playing with her feet. The feet up and slippers off had become a fleck of a regular affair
if my friend wasn't in that location (he'd be having driving lessons, maybe), just on this particular occassion he was in the room too. He knew I'd go her to
sit downward and relax, only maybe non well-nigh the shoe removal (I don't know if she told him or not, just he never mentioned it). Anyway, I had her saturday down, and
plonked her feet upwardly on the coffee table, pulling both slippers from her feet simultaneously.

Out of nowhere, boosted by teenage hormones and curiosity, I asked her if she wanted her feet massaged. I regretted saying it slightly, as it was an odd thing
to ask out the bluish, and wondered what her response would be. She looked a bit bemused, laughed a scrap, and said 'Yes, if y'all like', merely didn't
seem bothered one fashion or the other. I asked my mate if information technology was alright, he was fine with it and then off I went, trying to remain as at-home and natural voiced as
possible. I pulled a chair upwardly to sit down contrary her, pulled her feet onto my lap and began gently massaging her tan stocking soles, tweaking her toes caressing
her insteps, request her how information technology felt. I didn't see a modify in her mood i.e. more relaxed, merely she seemed quite taken past it, and went a bit quiet equally I
continued. I just did it for well-nigh 10 minutes or so, and stopped before I pushed my luck too far. Fifty-fifty though she wasn't a looker, my 15 year old heart
was beating away, every bit to be massaging the anxiety of a friend's mother seemed so....exciting, somehow wrong, but that was what fabricated information technology so cool. I was lost in
the moment, and idea about information technology all the way home. I wondered if I'd go another take chances, and thankfully I did a few months later.

My friend recently passed his driving test, and invited me over one Sun. I went there, simply to observe that he really wanted me at that place to aid wash his new car,
which I was less and so impressed about. He lived in a pocket-sized block of flats, which meant we had to go along going upstairs to get refills of water. We took it in
turns, and while I was getting the bucket filled up I began talking to his mother, who was sitting on her bed reading a volume. Her bedchamber was downwards the hall,
but was directly opposite the front door. I went into talk to her while the saucepan filled upwardly, and noticed that for the first time since I'd known her she
was wearing black tights. Now, this was besides good an opportunity to resist. I began talking to her, and every bit we talked, I slowly began irresolute the topic to her
shoes, which were laid out neatly around her bedroom.

As we were talking, I said she had lots of shoes, but no trainers, and and so asked if she'd like to try on mine. She agreed, slipped off her slippers (they
almost just dropped off her anxiety) and put them on. Nosotros had a chip of a chat, I went to stop the bucket from overflowing and and so went to get my trainers back
from her. Irene placed her feet in my lap, and I slowly unlaced each trainer, and slid them off her feet, savouring the moment. As each foot became exposed I
gave each one a a piddling tickle from toe to heel, simply she didn't flinch, grin or laugh equally she wasn't ticklish. I expressed disappointment with this,
but wasn't to exist deterred.

'You're not ticklish?!?! Oh, that's not fair....! At least you don't listen having your anxiety massaged, eh? Shall I give you a human foot massage
instead, seeing as how you lot're non ticklish?'

She laughed, and happily placed her black stocking feet in my lap. I gently tickled and massaged her feet for about ten minutes, which Irene willingly let me
do. I'd play with her toes, move down to her heels and insteps, thumbs and fingers rubbing against the soft material of her tights. Irene made no effort to
stop me or get away, so I like to call up she was enjoying it, probably not as much as me, just enjoying it nonetheless! Every bit I massaged and caressed each pes, I
was asking her if it tickled, asking her if she was enjoying information technology, to which the answers were 'no' and 'yep'. I so switched from massaging to a
soft tickling, trying to get a reaction. In that location still wasn't so much every bit a squirm, and so to effort and tickle I started ticklng harder only to no avail. At that
point, I was interrupted by the telephone ringing.

Here comes the best part!

Irene swung her legs from my lap to the floor, and padded out to the hall in stocking feet to reply the phone. I had expected her to put her slippers back on,
and so this was a pleasant turn of events! She was on the phone for about five minutes or so, then hung up. I was expecting her to shoo me out the room, only
without saying anything else she came dorsum into the bedroom, saturday on the bed and placed her feet back on my lap! I didn't say anything, but returned to
work, fingers working over each spot of her foot, looking for reactions of ticklishness or relaxation in her face. I continued switching between massaging and
tickling her feet, sometimes massaging one and tickling the other! I somewhen (by accident) plant one little ticklish spot on her feet, just at the base of
the brawl and top of the instep! She flinched and laughed when I establish it, and pulled abroad, proverb it tickled!

'Are you okay, Irene?'

'Hehehe...yeah...information technology merely tickled a scrap...'

'I idea yous weren't ticklish! Permit'due south try again...'

'No...!! No, only rub them...'

This was fine with me, and so I promised not to do it again, and carried on massaging her feet. I and so took a chance and sniffed her pes from toes to heel,
and said that she had smelly feet, fifty-fifty though she didn't. She took offence to this, protesting that her feet didn't smell, that her tights were clean
on and that she'd just had a bath ect etc. She said this quite loudly equally well, so as to not draw whatsoever attention to things it seemed like a good indicate to
cease on. I apologised and allow her go, and realised that I must accept played with her feet for nearly 25 minutes.

Amazingly, throughout all this time, my friend stayed downstairs washing the car.....!

Hope you enjoyed, guys.

Thanks, everybody,

SmashTV

tabermispond.blogspot.com

Source: https://www.tapatalk.com/groups/themousepad/friend-39-s-mother-39-s-feet-t41550.html

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