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It was true that the Dean had been seeming quite proud
But it wasn't a thought that I'd mention aloud
As I tried to convince him to join with the crowd
To give in to the tickling and laugh really loud;
So I diddled his soles as I secretly thought
Of the means to gain all of the laughter I sought,
And the lessons the Dean needed so to be taught
To abandon decorum and live as he ought;
As I swept both his arches the thought grew complete
Up to then, I had acted a bit too discreet,
For to rouse him from silence it surely was meet
He should know what I felt for his prime naked feet;

So I said to the Dean, "I could go on for days
Without giving your glorious tootsies due praise,
Now they GOTTA be ticklish, they're sending out rays"
And I fixed his big dawgs with my most ardent gaze;
As I studied his face I decided to seize
What momentum I could, so I said, "if you please,
Dude, the sight of your toes makes my heart almost freeze
I ain't never seen nothing so perfect as these;
If these kickers ain't ticklish, it WOULD be a crime
With your arches so fine and your soles so sublime,
D* they oughta get tickled each day all the time
And your toes sure need suckin with reason and rhyme!"

Then I eagerly licked all the toes of the Dean
As my tongue deftly tickled each space in between,
It so clearly conveyed just what made me so keen
And it gave him a hint what foot-tickling could mean;
For if ever an instinct were righteous and just
I was sure I could fill him with ticklefoot lust,
Once he deemed all that passion a thing he could trust
Then his h*-on would leave his resolve in the dust;
Though his face and his feet remained perfectly still
I could feel the Dean's toes were at one with my will,
They were longing to wiggle and jiggle to thrill
And the urge would grow stronger and harder to kill;