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Here's one way to relieve exam stress

suikoden

4th Level Red Feather
Joined
May 20, 2001
Messages
1,771
Points
38
A not-so-long time ago, in a college far, far away…

Fair’s fair, my girlfriend is the one with the paper to study for so I guess I’ll be making dinner tonight. I get to my room with my groceries pondering which of my highly experimental pasta efforts I’ll concoct tonight. I open the door and I can see her lying on her stomach on my bed, propped up on her elbows.

She cranes her neck around and grins at me with a pencil between her teeth. Her long dark hair is pushed back behind her ears and I can see she has a textbook and notepad in front of her. She is wearing her usual jeans and T-shirt and she is lazily kicking her legs up so that her feet in their little white socks are pointing up in the air.

“How’s the studying going?”

“Don’t ask. I’ve been going over this for two hours and I don’t feel like I’ve taken anything in.” She sounds stressed.

I put down the grocery bag and go to sit down behind her on the bed.

“Well you need to take a break and chill out for a bit. You can’t keep going like this or you’ll just get more and more stressed out.”

“Easy for you to say,” she opens a lever arch folder and starts looking for some class notes. “You’ve done all your exams. I still have this one looming over me.”

“Look, put the books away and have a break for 10 minutes.” I start to stroke the back of her calf. “You can do another half an hour or so while I cook dinner and then I’ll test you on your notes later on. How does that sound.”

She sighs and her shoulders slump. “You’re right. I am getting stressed out.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.” I say soothingly as I rub her calves and ankles. “Trust me.”

Without warning I hug her calves against my chest and begin tickling her tender soles.

“Ahhhh!” She squeals. Study notes and stationery goes flying as she bucks in surprise.
“Get off you swine! I’m trying to study here!” she blurts. Her indignation gives way almost immediately to delightful girlish giggling. I figured it would.

I scratch my nails up and down her arches and trace circles over the half globes of her heels as she giggles and curses at me. As she is on her stomach she can’t get the leverage to escape and her toes are bunching and flexing like mad. She tries to reach behind her and slap my hands away but she is at a real disadvantage.

I sit up on the bed and lock her legs into my body; her feet are totally defenceless.

“There ya go, this’ll get rid of that stress like nobody’s business!” I tease. I pull off her socks and begin to tickle her delicate size sixes. I stroke the little wrinkles that appear on her soles as she flexes her tootsies and rub the joints of her toes with my fingertips. I prod my index finger hard against the line of her arch and run it slowly back and forth. My kingdom for a feather. Her wriggling toes are adorable and I flutter light ticklish kisses over them.

“Aha haa haa haha…Not the feeeeeet!” She screams. She buries her face in the bedclothes and her body shakes with muffled laughter. Her butt sticks up in the air as she tries again to dislodge my grasp.

“Fair enough.” I push her butt down and sit on the back of her thighs and begin squeezing her ribs. Her back arches up instantaneously.

“Yeeeeee hee hee hee…..St…stop it! Ha hahahaha… Cut it out!” She wails. Her soft slim body trembles delightfully as I knead her sides through her T-shirt.

“What?” I ask innocently. “You asked me to leave your feet alone so I did.” I know all her sweet spots and my fingers search them out ruthlessly.

Inevitably her T-shirt comes untucked from her jeans in the struggle and I slip my hands underneath to tickle silky bare flesh.

“Ha hahahaha ha haha! Ahhh, you’ve got cold hands!” She gasps. She hiccups with laughter as I massage her ribs. The taut flesh of her ribcage provides a fertile tickling ground for my fluttering fingers.

“Cold hands, warm heart.” I respond cheerfully. “Don’t worry, they’ll soon warm up”

The lower ribs just above her belly are particularly sensitive and I subject these to some enthusiastic rubbing before scooting my fingers down the plain of her tummy. My darting digits are too much and she tries to pull my hands away but I am “in the zone” now and not about to give up. Besides, this is supposed to be therapeutic for her. Honest!

She tries to push herself up to gain some leverage and I take advantage by reaching around to tickle her smooth flat tummy. She flops back down trapping my hands and I lobster claw her belly.

“Ok, Ok…haa hahahaha.. I’m not stressed anymore…. I promise. Pleeeease let me up!? Oh heee heee hee heee…”

She pushes up again and her butt is almost on my chest. She sits down and we topple backwards. I end up with her lying on top of me. I lock my legs around hers and continue to tease her tantalising tummy. I can feel her belly undulate against my hands as I tease it. I never realised exam stress could be this much fun.

Once again she tries to pull my hands away but her ordeal has sapped her strength and she can only grab ineffectively at my wrists.

“You still seem a little stressed to me.” I say with mock concern. I work my fingers under her belt and rub my fingertips over her smooth lower belly. I like to be thorough about these things.

She tries to twist away and ends up on her side with my hands still inside the waist of her jeans. Her legs are kicking out as I zero in on the sweet spots above her hips. She throws her head back with silent laughter as I tease these relentlessly.

I roll her onto her back and kneel over her thighs as I go to work, spidering my hands over her belly, sides and ribs. Her T-shirt has worked its way to just below her breasts now and some of her hair has fallen over her face. Her cheeks are rosy with giggling. She has both hands free and tries to fend me off but I manage to control her two hands with my one, pushing them back over her head. My free hand spiders and claws enthusiastically at her tummy and darts up and down into her armpits. I push my hands into the short sleeves of her T-shirt and flutter my fingers in her underarms.

Her head whips form side to side as I diddle with her underarms. She tries to turn away from me and almost gets onto her side. I watch her gleaming tummy go taut and then poke my index finger into the stretched oval of her bellybutton. She makes a sound that is half gurgle, half snort and then flops onto her back as her navel is invaded. Then the laughter starts again

“Oh, yes. Definitely much less stressed now.” I say. I settle over her and play with the exquisite dimple and trace intricate patterns over her belly. Her body shudders with laughter beneath my hand and tears roll down her cheeks. She tries to curl up into the foetal position but not before her navel gets a thorough teasing.

I use both hands to mercilessly tease her upper body. No matter which way she twists or turns, I can always find at least one sweet spot to tease.

Just when I thought she was exhausted she gets a second wind now and starts thrashing to get away. She is breathing heavily in between her peals of laughter. She braces her feet against the wall and pushes off. We tumble unceremoniously to the floor with me underneath. I wrap my arms around her as we fall but neither of us is hurt. We manage to take the bedclothes with us but now she is on top of me. She kneels on my thighs and pins my arms overhead, leaning into me with her bodyweight. I make no attempt to struggle.

“Okay Mister, you’ve had your fun!” She pants with mock anger.

Our hair and clothes are in disarray and the room looks like a tornado just passed through. “Feeling better?” I ask.

She sits up and brushes her hair back from her face. “We could have just had a cup of coffee and a stroll around the block.” She replies.

“Yeah but this is much more effective.”

She smiles and tucks her T-shirt back into her jeans. Then she leans forward with a grin and pokes me in the chest.

“Well just for that you can do the cooking AND the washing up!”

“The cooking AND the washing up?” I exclaim feigning indignation.

I watch for a minute or two as she gathers up her study materials and drops back into revision mode. She may not realise it but I have a strong feeling she might be in need of some stress relief in the near future. With that prospect on the horizon, cooking and washing up seems like a small price to pay.


(BTW – She aced the test! :cool: )
 
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