A
Simple Plan
by Casper
D
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I was like a kid the night before Christmas!
You see, my former foster brother Darnel had a friend named Henry
who was addicted to narcotics. I won't say if it was crack, because
I couldn't honestly say for sure ... but I believe that it was.
I mean, he wasn't a hype or anything. Anyway, Henry was always dropping
by and asking Darnel for five dollars or so. And Darnel, disgusted
by what his friend had become through the years, would always turn
him away.
Around the neighborhood Henry had been known as "Spooky".
And, for fairly obvious reasons, the people in the hood nicknamed
me "Casper". Casper and Spooky. How many people are aware
that Casper the Friendly Ghost had a cousin named Spooky? Anyway,
I don't know why, but I always felt a kind of odd connection with
that poor guy. So much of a connection that I decided to secretly
lend Spooky the money he wanted. But I would lend him the money
only if he did me a favor. And that favor was to transport me to
his place one afternoon and, of course, tickle my feet.
A simple plan. And because it was so simple, it worked.
On a sunny Saturday afternoon, I found myself in Henry "Spooky"
Davis' apartment. I was half terrified, half pleasurably excited
as I untied and removed my sneakers.
What followed is still burned into the cells of my brain to this
day …
Henry himself slid off my somewhat sweaty and smelly white cotton
socks and exposed my bare pink soles. As he stared at my feet, he
got a look on his rather beige face that seemed to say "Damn,
even your friggin' feet are soft and pampered-looking!"
Still, I'm probably wrong about whatever thoughts were running through
what was left of Henry's mind at this time--as I've said, I have
an active imagination.
Anyway, he tried tickling my exposed soles, but I kept kicking free
... and came very close to accidentally kicking HIM. My feet are
VERY ticklish, you understand. So ticklish that nothing short of
medieval stocks could keep me from kicking my feet as they're being
tickled. At first Henry was frustrated, I mean he didn't necessarily
relish the idea of having to tickle some guy’s smelly, sweaty
bare feet just to glean a paltry five dollars. (and my feet really
were kinda smelly then, for I managed to get in several games of
basketball before he arrived at the park to transport me to his
place) But eventually "Spooky" really got into the spirit
of the task that I was asking of him. He solved the problem of my
kicking legs by grabbing my feet in a headlock, if you can imagine--it's
kinda like I was in a headlock, except my feet were where my head
would have been, you know?
His fingers scraped up and down my excessively sensitive bare soles,
then he used a toothbrush to attack the undersides of my toes. I
desperately wriggled my toes and tried to flex my feet, but Henry
was holding them vice-like within the crook of his arm. He'd alternate
between using his fingers and using that toothbrush ... the toothbrush
whose pleasure-giving powers I still dream about to this day! He
inserted the bristles of that brush between my bare toes. One at
a time that brush grazed all over each toe. My screams had to have
been deafening, and yet Henry was totally unconcerned about anyone
hearing.
It wasn't long before my face, chest, pits and crotch were damp
and heady with sweat. My cock was so engorged and throbbing that
it hurt ... but it was a GOOD hurt. Henry put the toothbrush aside
and attacked my feet with his fingers again. He moved his fingers
up and down my soles, then from left to right, again and again.
I screamed my head off. And my cock throbbed and pulsated. There
was electricity in my genitals, and this electricity grew stronger
in intensity with each stroke of the toothbrush and each scrape
of Henry's fingers. it was incredible!
Henry seemed to be surprised at how much he was enjoying himself.
He retrieved the toothbrush again and began to broom it between
my toes, then all over my feet. From my heels, up my soles, down
through the arches and across the ball. Then he began the whole
process all over again. I shot my load at the very moment Henry
used the bristles of the toothbrush to trace an intense, electrified,
ticklish path from the sole to my heel on my right foot. I must
have spurted four times! The orgasmic experience didn't cause me
to faint, but the second my last drop of jizz had been released,
I almost immediately dropped off into an exhausted, but pleasurable
sleep.
When I awoke I found that Henry had placed my shoes and socks (though
haphazardly) back onto my still-tingling feet. He ruffled my hair
as if I was a little kid before he sent me on my way.
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