“Tickling?….. that’s his fetish? I can work with that!” Part 1

Well, I guess it’s true. You really do reap what you sow and I planted this seed a long time ago. It started out innocent enough but I took it too far As long as I was in charge of the rules, I had lots of fun. I can’t believe it has come to this.

Steve, my neighbor’s son was just a young teenager when I noticed he was consistently peeking out of his 2^nd floor bedroom window as I left for work each morning. I suppose most women would lie and complain about how creepy this was, but Steve was harmless and we all enjoy the attention. I even told him one day to wave the next time he saw me. And so it began. I stopped wearing running shoes (carrying my heels in a bag) to work, in the morning. Instead, I strutted out to the car in ever higher heels, shoulders back, making sure my breasts jiggled as I waved to Steve. Warm weather was an invitation to open up my top alittle and have Steve look down on the cleavage. He would wave with one hand and I knew what the other was doing.

Selling real estate is very stressful. I can be a real bitch at times. Teenage boys are naturally horny and I relentlessly added fuel to Steve’s fire. Steve is a big fan of tight blouses, high heels, colored hose, short skirts and, of course, me. He knows he can’t touch, but he loves to look.

Linda (Steve’s mom) is a good friend but a real air head. After years of my teasing Steve, she is still oblivious to the fact that I can make her son rock hard in less than 30 seconds and if I really wanted, could have him shoot in his pants in about a minute. I am invited to dinner regularly and dress to keep Steve on edge. Linda doesn’t know that one extra button open on my blouse helps convince Steve to mow my lawn, two buttons and my car will be as clean as new. The unwritten promise of a tight hug for a good job ensures satisfaction all around. I am in his head and stroking him endlessly. I could probably play the same game with his father, but he is never home.

Things got even more interesting on a Saturday afternoon last year. Linda’s house was empty except for Steve who would have been alone for 5-6 hours, except I decided to visit. I noticed Steve had drawn the curtains to the living room. Curiosity got the best of me and using the key Linda gave me, I quietly unlocked the door, took my shoes off, and silently walked into the living room. There was Steve, watching a tickling fetish DVD, with his pants wide open. Two women were in bondage, begging for their tickling torture to stop. I thought “tickling?….. that’s his fetish? I can work with that!”. And so I did.

To be continued next week !

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