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>>> F/M Story: Ticklers in Love

Paul Jones

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Nov 3, 2005
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After another session of driving Ginny out of her wits by skillful and prolonged tickling,
Paul had dozed off on her bed. When he awoke, she was naked. She had impishly
disrobed, knowing that Paul would be thrilled.

As always, his heart pounded when he beheld her lovely body. In particular, her
sumptuous breasts thrilled him to the core. And, as always, she was deeply
moved by his obvious enthrallment.

“Oh how wonderful it is to see you naked! You make that such a beautiful,
beautiful word. Naked! That is, nude, disrobed, unclothed, undressed, exposed,
bare—STRIPPED!”
He emphasized the last word, and she blushed deeply.

His lover playfully said to him, “You know, Paul, there’s a fellow who likes to torment me
by tickling me silly. Can you imagine that?”

“Oh, yes,” he replied with a wink.

“Well, how do you think I should deal with him?” she asked jestingly.

Paul’s heart sped up in joyous anticipation. For they had played this game before,
and he loved it.

He replied, “Oh, surely you can think of appropriate payback for some big lug
who tickles you—without mercy.” He knowingly emphasized the last phrase.

He continued, “Wouldn’t you like to make the worm squirm?”

She nodded in agreement. She loved the word squirm, and Paul knew it. Her eyes
sparkled with merriment, for she loved the game as much as Paul did.

“Just think now. This guy must have ticklish spots of his own. For instance,
his breasts and armpits, his ribs and tummy, and surely his feet.” He stressed
the last words. “Then there are his ears.” (Even greater stress.) She smiled
with understanding.

Paul was obviously very excited now, and so was Ginny. She took elfin delight in his
words, knowing exactly where this was leading.

“And I’m sure you’re aware of his most ticklish parts of all—the ones that
‘all hang out,’ you know.” She beamed with glee at the hint, and nodded again.

“Yes, I am aware. And now, I’m going to have the most delicious revenge,” she said,
the sternness in her voice belied by the heartfelt love in her beautiful eyes.

“I’m going to find every spot he wishes I wouldn’t, and give him the tickling that he
so richly deserves!”

“You must surely know that I also love to tickle,” she said, knowing that it pleased him.
“It’s such fun to make someone squirm,” she continued in the same vein.
Paul’s heart fluttered.

At a nod from Ginny, Paul sprawled out on her bed. She applied escapable restraints
to his wrists and ankles.

She said, “Don’t forget. You made this room into a tickling chamber.”
Paul tingled with excitement at her words.

“And remember: I know where all your ticklish spots are—all of them,” she teased.

She eyed his body with undisguised relish. It was obvious that she was delighting
in thoughts of tickling the daylights out of him, as usual.

She drew her nails across his stomach, making him shriek with laughter. “Look at
the worm squirm,” she teased, playfully quoting him. “And listen to him howl!”

Then she began a hardy foot-tickling assault. This bought forth screams of boisterous
laughter from her ticklish lover.

Next, she turned to his armpits and breasts. She tickled them with great pleasure,
making him squeal with laughter and squirm delightfully.

“Ticklish spots,” she commented, again quoting his words.

“Don’t you think that I’m a good tickler?” she teased.

“Oh, yes,” he exclaimed adoringly.

Then she began tickling his ribs vigorously. He shook the room with the vibrations
of his laughter.

Next, she resumed tickling his stomach, using her nails to cover it with short, rapid
tickling strokes. He again shrieked with laughter and squirmed uncontrollably.

He wiggled his torso as much as the bonds would allow, and howled with laughter as
the tickling sensations exploded in his brain.

“How delicious! The tickler himself gets tickled. How do you like it?” she asked
with mock disapproval.

“Oh, Paul, what delicious revenge this is! How you deserve to be tickled!” she teased.
“And how I love to make you squeal with laughter!”

“Are you sorry now for tickling me?” He shook his head, as usual.

Then she turned her attention to his “most ticklish parts of all.”

She stroked his scrotum with her nails, skillfully covering the sac with tickling strokes
that drove Paul wild.

“Do you like my fingernails?” she teased. “Oh, they’re sinful!” he wailed.

Then she began a devilish pumping of his vulnerable organ. She worked maddeningly
slowly.

"Up and down, up and down. Isn’t this fun?” she asked cheerily. By now, Paul was
desperate for an orgasm.

“I’m sot sure which I enjoy more: tickling your organs, or teasing them. You know,
Paul, if I tickle-tease them long enough, your poor brain will turn into mush.”


Now came the part of the game that they loved best. She brought her enchanting
breasts close to his mouth, but not so close that he could kiss them, which he
passionately wanted to do.

“The torture of Tantalus,” she reminded him. “Isn’t it maddening?” He gazed at her,
thrilled and excited. Her breasts were so scrumptious!

Paul feasted his eyes on them and begged, as he always did.

“Oh, please! Please! Bring them closer. Let me kiss them!”

“What? These old things?” she teased.

“Do you find my breasts pleasing?” she asked, as if she didn’t know his answer.

“They’re the loveliest breasts I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed truthfully. She beamed
with pleasure.

“Then the torture of Tantalus is the appropriate retribution for you,” she said.

She repeatedly brought her breasts close to his mouth, but she would not let him kiss
them. Now, it was Paul’s turn to be driven witless.

“Suffer, you rascal! I’ll teach you to tickle me!” she said, her eyes aflame with
pretended menace.

She swung her lovely, bare feet up to his lips, and asked, “Wouldn’t you like to kiss
my feet?” knowing full well that would.

“Oh, yes!” he answered, as usual. Then, thrilled with ardor, he covered her feet
with kisses. And, as usual, she was moved almost to tears.

She finally did bring her breasts to his lips, and let him kiss them fervently, particularly
her adorable nipples. As always, she was overjoyed by his frank adoration.

Then she asked pointedly, “What was it you were you saying about ears?” She
tickled his ears with her “sinful” nails, causing him to squeal with delight—and intense
desire.

Paul glowed with rapturous anticipation, for he knew that she was now about to plunge
him into a universe of indescribable ecstasy.

Sure enough, she began caressing his now hyper-sensitive genitals. Unutterable
pleasure electrified his now exceedingly sensitive body. She soon engulfed his eager,
quivering body in stupefying pleasure, bringing him to an intensely thrilling orgasm.

The climaxes she bestowed on him always seemed wonderfully long. This one was
no exception. As a lover, she was a true miracle worker!

Finally, after a delicious interval, he cried out loudly (and long) in pure ecstasy. As
generally happened when she pleasured him, his ecstasy was so exquisitely intense
that he lost consciousness.

When he awoke, he had been unfastened. They embraced lovingly for many minutes.

:lovestory:​
 
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