Naughty Tawni lifted her bare foot and let her toes creep over my cheek. Taking hold of her ankle and pushing her foot firmly down onto the couch cushion, I warned her, “If you don’t stop, you know what I’ll do.”

And Tawni did know — or at least she should have by then. We’d been dating for the better part of a year by that point. She knew exactly what teasing me with her feet would get her. But she also knew that, despite my gruff manner, I was getting as much of a thrill out of her behavior as she was. I was anything but angry.

Tawni and I met on the beach last summer. I had taken an apartment not far from the shore, while working on an advertising campaign for a failing department store. I had gone out for a stroll to refresh my mind. The day was absolutely gorgeous with flawlessly blue skies, and I saw — and heard — something that immediately chased all thoughts of work from my mind.

On the beach was a gorgeous blonde with long hair and sun-kissed skin. She was kneeling before a mound of white sand heaped atop another girl, who had tousled red hair and a cute snub nose. The only other parts of the redhead I could see were her bare feet, which protruded from the sandy mound. The blonde was tickling them with both sets of wriggling fingers, and the air was filled with helpless shrieks of gabbling laughter. The other beach-goers were largely ignoring the scene. One raven-haired beauty scoffed audibly and inserted her ear buds, likely in an attempt to block out the redhead’s shrill giggles.

Given my tickling fetish, I slowed my steps and just stood there, watching the girls in horny amazement. The blonde must have felt my eyes on her, because — without letting up on her tickle torment — she turned and gave me an appraising look. Her pretty face was lightly dusted with freckles that enhanced her beauty. 

“Your friend looks like she’s in a ticklish situation,” I remarked. My heart rate had seriously escalated, and I felt the beginnings of a pretty formidable erection swelling in my shorts. The blonde’s demeanor seemed to turn defensive, but her captive friend coquettishly smiled with the tip of her tongue held between her teeth.

“Wanna help?” the giggly ginger asked.

Her invitation earned her a fresh round of tickles from her friend, which in turn prompted a new round of squeals. But the ice was broken and my presence became welcomed.

And that was it. Tawni and I had dinner that evening — after she was finally freed from her sandy prison — and before long, we were an item. I don’t think I could have found a more perfect girlfriend if I’d tried — and believe me, I’d been trying for some time.

Soon my apartment rang with Tawni’s breathless laughter as I introduced her to bondage games and various tickle toys. When I moved up north, Tawni came with me. She worked in retail, so finding a new job was fairly easy for her, and city life suited her far better than dealing with the beachy resort town during the sleepy off-season.

And that takes us back to where I began, with me on the couch trying to read while Tawni’s tootsies explored my face. I was getting excited as I wondered if another round of merciless tickle-play was in our future. It seemed inevitable.

“So whatcha gonna do?” Tawni teased, catching my earlobe between her toes and tugging it playfully. “Whatcha gonna do to me, tough guy?” she asked, goading me.

The obvious answer — “I’m going to tickle your feet” — was a little too obvious. Instead of saying anything, I let my book fall to the floor and snatched my girlfriend up in my arms. I carried her, kicking and squealing, to our bedroom, where I dumped her on the mattress.

“Oh God, are you going to tie me up?” she asked breathlessly. “Please tie me up!”

I’d never met a girl who loved bondage quite as much as my Tawni, and I couldn’t deny her.

“Get undressed first,” I ordered. “You know very well I can’t properly tickle you through your clothes.”

Giggling, Tawni began tearing off her shorts and top. Her body was breathtaking, her boobs round and perfectly formed, her belly flat but ridged with muscles. She was already blissfully barefoot, of course, her toes and soles tender from a pedicure she’d had earlier that day. Meanwhile, I got our collection of ropes and cuffs from our dresser, and in just a few minutes she was securely bound spread-eagled to the bed.

But I added one more item to the mix: a silk blindfold. I fastened it around her head, so she could see nothing.

“Ooh,” she whispered. “What are you gonna do to me first?” I could see a smile threatening to form on her lips as she spoke. Her voice was a little throaty — a sure sign she was as turned on as I was.

“Be patient, bad girl. You’ll soon find out,” I told her, selecting a feather from our pile of playthings. It was a nice one, long and white with a fine edge. I settled myself beside Tawni’s luscious and oh-so-ticklish body.

“Where do you want it first, gorgeous?” I asked.

“On my tummy,” Tawni said, her body trembling.

She wasn’t fooling me. Given a choice, she always chose her belly as the spot to be tickled. Don’t think she isn’t ticklish there. Her workout regime made her abs rock solid, which made her think she could better resist the fiendish ministrations of my tickle tools.

“All right,” I said, sliding the feather very gently over the pink pegs of her stiffened nipples. She gasped and arched her back, pushing her delightful mounds upward.

“No fair!” she said with a giggle, then she moaned as I oh-so-gently flicked my tongue over her nips. “Oh my God, stop! Oh! Oh, that’s the wor-her-herst!” she bellyached.

Yes, of all Tawni’s “spots,” her nipples were certainly prime pieces of tickle real estate. I teasingly lapped at them for a solid minute or more, delighting in her gasps and increasingly wild laughter.

“You’re not suppose to tickle me there! On my tummy, I said!”

“My mistake,” I said with amusement. “I must have lost my way. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll tickle your tummy.”

I let my lips graze the toned field of her stomach. Tawni tittered, then gasped and squirmed, whispering that it felt nice — that I’d found where she liked to be tickled.

Then I touched my tongue to her protruding navel for some extra fun.

“Ooh, not so much on my belly button!”

I licked her navel again for good measure and said, “Not so much on your belly button, huh? Where, then?”

I gently flicked my tongue against the top of her slit, delighting in her sudden helpless laughter. I exhaled, and the warm fluttering of my breath on that tender spot drove her half out of her mind.

“I’m gonna get you!” she whined, squirming in her bonds.

“Promises, promises,” I teased. I burrowed my mouth and nose against her pussy, just enough to get her even more aroused. Soon she was begging me to fuck her.

“I thought you wanted me to tickle your tum-tum,” I said.

“Nuhhh-no! No, f-fuck me instead! Oh God, you’re driving me crazee-hee-hee!”

Instead, I kept moving downward, using the feather to tickle her long, lean legs. When I reached her knees, I teased their soft undersides with devilishly gentle fingers. That really made her crazy. She’d once confessed to me, right after we’d started dating, that an old boyfriend used to tickle her behind her knees. She’d told me how incredibly sensitive she was there.

“Isn’t this your belly right here?” I teased. “I thought this was your belly. Or this…or this!”

“Ahhh! What are you trying to do to me!”

As ticklish as her knees were, there were other places on her body that outdid every other one. And she knew that’s where I was headed.

“Ah, here we go! This is your belly, right?”

I had reached ground zero in the catalogue of Tawni’s tickle-spots: her exquisitely sensitive soles.

Tawni has truly beautiful feet. She said she’d once been approached by a woman claiming to be a scout for an agency specializing in hand and foot models, but Tawni declined her offer. My girl’s toes are long and chiseled, her soles soft and wrinkled, her ankles narrow. I absolutely love them. Sometimes I feel as if I’d be perfectly happy just sucking and nibbling on them, forsaking all other contact. But that wasn’t going to be the case that night.

I’d been getting steadily hornier since she’d started teasing me with her toes. Tying her up and tickling her had given me such a hard-on I could barely stand it. Now, facing those lovely, helpless feet, I reached a kind of pinnacle of pleasure. I flicked my tongue against the ball of one foot, and Tawni broke down into a kind of fit that was half weeping, half laughter.

“Not my feet, anything but my tootsies. Please!” she wailed.

Please understand Tawni’s protests were all part of the game. As much as she complained, she truly never wanted me to stop. Deep down, she enjoyed being my captive — and my devilish games.

“You shouldn’t have teased me,” I whispered. “You shouldn’t have been a naughty girl with those toes. They’re gonna get tickled now, and you can’t do anything about it.”

Before just diving in, I breathed on her piggies, watching her beautiful, blindfolded face. I knew she knew what I was waiting for. As I rose, I could smell the salty perfume of her wet pussy in the air. I could all but feel her body readying itself for the good hard fuck that would come after I tormented her feet. By that point, I wouldn’t be able to do anything else. But first there was something I wanted to hear from Tawni’s lips.

“Do it,” she gasped finally. “Do it. Tickle them really hard!”

“Tickle what?”

“My feet! Tickle my feet! Oh God!”

So I did. Using the feather, I sketched lazy circles on her soles and the fleshy undersides of her long toes. I teased her ankles and pricked her round heels with the feather’s sharp end. Then I sucked her toes, taking my time to really do a number on each one. All the while, poor Tawni was shrieking and wailing.

I was ready to fuck her, to tear off my shorts and plunge my cock into her wetness. To make her scream for real.

But first, her feet needed more attention. After all, I hadn’t yet shown Tawni what my fingers could do.

I teasingly stroked her soles, alternating my fingertips with the cruelly perfect feather. She laughed and cried, her chest heaving as tears streamed down her face. Once I was convinced she’d been properly punished — and her pussy was dripping wet — I did indeed tear off my clothes and pump my cock in and out of her snatch until we both exploded with bliss.

My naughty Tawni. I adore her and love keeping her on her toes.