There is rarely a day where I don't think about it, even after almost 26 years. The summer of 1987 followed my senior year in high school, with college awaiting in the fall. My best friend Tom, who was a year younger than me, had been dating a girl from his high school. Like me, she had graduated in June and was set to go away to college. I remember the first time I met her. My first thought, in all honesty, was that Tom had seriously over-achieved in dating Lyndsay. She was a beautiful girl, about 5'6", with medium length brown hair, gorgeous green eyes and a perfect smile. She was out of Tom's league all right, and out of mine too, for that matter.
The three of us hung out a lot that summer, and I'll admit I developed kind of a crush on her. We got to be pretty good friends. I enjoyed just being around her, and I sensed she liked my off-beat sense of humor, plus the fact that I was always nice to her, while Tom, a pretty sarcastic guy, kind of took her for granted.
OK, I'm on this forum, so it's no secret that as time went by, I began to wonder if this beautiful girl might be ticklish. One night as the three of us were out in Tom's car, Lyndsay and I started a teasing argument about which radio station to listen to. She would push the button, then I would select another station, back and forth. Finally, I teasingly warned her not to touch the dial again. When she ignored me and turned the station, I grabbed her thigh, just above the knee. She instantly screamed, grabbed for my hand and yelled, "don't tickle me!" It was the genuine ticklish reaction I had been hoping to get. Over the course of the next week or so, I stepped up my tickle attacks, usually just a squeeze of the ribs, and never for more than a second or two, but the reaction was always the same.....Lyndsay was very ticklish.
I began to think about little else than getting an opportunity to really tickle her. My chance came a few days later. Tom and Lyndsay had stopped by my house to pick me up and they both came in for a few minutes. We were trying to decide what to do that night, but Lyndsay was not interested in any of our suggestions. We went through a list of movies we could go see, but every suggestion was met with indifference or worse. After several minutes of "attitude" from her, I looked at Tom and said, "I think your girlfriend could use an "attitude adjustment." I grabbed her off the couch and pinned her to the carpet and told Tom to hold her arms above her head.
I straddled her waist and began to tickle her ribs, as she screamed and struggled. As my hands went further up her ribcage, I noticed how her struggles to escape intensified, and when I reached her underarms, she went totally crazy. I attacked her armpits for maybe 30-45 seconds, and the paused, asking her, "are you ready to behave?" She was still trying to catch her breath, but wouldn't answer me. Instead, she gave me a look that I interpreted as "is that all you got?" "Apparently not," I said and resumed tickling her armpits for another minute or so. I had tickled a lot of people in my life, but never had seen anyone as uncontrollably and wildly ticklish as Lyndsay. Finally, Tom said he thought she had had enough, so we let her up. It took her a few minutes to compose herself, and I was hoping nobody had noticed how aroused I had become.
The night went by with no more tickling, or mention of tickling. But her reaction to my tickling her was something I could just not forget, even if I would never get another chance. But it turned out that I would.
Tom was a heck of a soccer player, and he played on a travel team during the summer. The next week, he was scheduled to play in a regional tournament in a neighboring state for the entire weekend. To my surprise, Lyndsay called me and asked if I wanted to hang out with her that Friday night while Tom was out of town. Naturally, I was more than happy to do so, and we agreed I would stop by her house and pick her up about 7 pm. When I got to her house, she let me in and I asked where Bob and Laura (her parents) were. She told me they had left around lunchtime to go to Cincinnati for a wedding, which meant her parents were going to be about six hours away for the entire weekend. Hmmmm....
She asked if I wanted something to drink, and while she went to the kitchen to get my coke, I turned on the TV to watch the baseball game. When she came back with my coke, she said, "oh no, I hate baseball....we're not watching this." "But I'm your guest," I said. "Yeah, but it's my house!" With that, she grabbed the remote and changed the channel, whereupon I took the remote and went back to the ball game.
As she tried to get the remote from me, I teasingly reminded her that last week, I had found out about a "certain weakness" she had, and that I was not above taking advantage of it. That didn't stop her, and as we were wrestling for control of the remote, I pinned her down on the couch and was able to grab both her hands with my left hand, which left my right hand totally free to revisit those ticklish underarms. Once again, she put up a tremendous struggle, but with both her hands occupied, I was able to continue to torture her ribs and especially her armpits. Finally, I had mercy on her and let her up. Her hair was messed up, she was totally out of breath and she was still giggling, when she looked at me and said, "you really like ticking me, don't you?" "Is it that obvious?" I said. "You're the most ticklish girl I've ever met....it's just so much fun to tickle someone like you."
Then she said, "What about you.....are you ticklish?" "Not really," I stammered. She said ,"What kind of answer is that...not really....you either are or you aren't." With that, she suddenly grabbed me around the waist and began to tickle me. Instinctively, I pulled away and grabbed at her hands. "Just as I thought," she said, "you can dish it out but you can't take it!"
I tried to make excuses, saying she startled me. "OK," she said, "lay down on the carpet with your hands above your head." Knowing full well I was in trouble, I did what she asked. She knelt down on the floor, with her fingers teasing me just a few inches from me, when she slowly started to tickle my armpits. I managed to endure it for a few seconds, but it was futile. I broke out laughing, grabbing her hands and admitting that, yes, I was ticklish too.
She then told me how she was always the one that got tickled, by her parents, by her older sister, by girlfriends at a slumber party, by a boyfriend or two. I asked if Tom tickled her, but she said no, he was not a tickler. She said she wanted to ask me something. I said sure. She then looked at me with those gorgeous green eyes and asked if she could tickle me, really tickle me.
I was stunned, I didn't know what to say, finally saying, "yes, but you could never hold me down...I would have to try to get away." "Not if I tied you down," she answered. She said she wanted to tie me to her bed so that I couldn't escape and then experience what it was like to be the tickler, rather than the one being tickled. I asked if she had handcuffs or rope. No, she said, but she had some old panty hose that she was pretty sure would work. I was still having trouble believing this was happening. A beautiful girl, one that I was clearly attracted to, wanted to fulfill a fantasy with me, a fantasy which involved tickling, which was my fetish to begin with! Is this why she invited me here in the first place tonight?
With my mouth full of cotton, and my legs wobbly, I agreed to be her "tickle toy" and followed her into her bedroom. She suggested I use the bathroom. Good idea, I said to myself. I was wearing long basketball shorts and a t-shirt, as I laid down on her bed. The bed didn't have bedposts, but Lyndsay said she could tie my arms and legs to the underside of the bed, using the panty hose. "Are you sure your parents are in Ohio?" I asked. "Don't worry about them," she said.
She wanted me spread eagle on my back, and she began by tying my hands to the bed. In my mind, I was pretty sure she would not be able to tie my so securely that I couldn't get away, if I really wanted to...at least I tried to tell myself that. When she finished with my arms, she used another pair of panty hose to tie my legs down. When she was done, she asked me if I could move. Surprisingly, she had done a very good job on tying me down, and now I wasn't feeling so sure about my ability to escape it I wanted to.
When she was finished tying, she asked if I was ready to start. I don't remember if I answered, but no, I was not ready for this!
Her room was fairly dark, but I could still see what she was doing. She first went down to the foot of the bed and removed my gym shoes. "Let's see how ticklish your feet are," she teased. This would prove to be a disappointment, because my feet were only slightly ticklish. If she was disappointed, she didn't let on. Instead, she moved back toward to head of the bed and positioned herself sitting on my stomach. Then she started with the verbal teasing....."isn't this how you had me pinned down last week at your house?" She lifted up the bottom of my shirt and ran her fingernails around my waist. Oh my God, what had I gotten myself into. Suddenly, she started tickling my ribs in earnest, as I burst into laughter. I instinctively tried to bring my arms down to protect myself, but the panty hose was holding tight. She alternated between slow teasing and fast tickling of my ribs and stomach, and both were very effective. Lyndsay was really enjoying this! She continued to tease me, telling me that "let's see, you really targeted my underarms when you were tickling me...is that because you know how horribly ticklish armpits are?" She had gotten off of my waist, and was now lying next to my, with both her hands under my shirt, moving them slowly up my sides, getting closer and closer to my armpits. I was now begging and laughing at the same time.... I could not move! After a minute of so of torturous teasing, both her hands were now in my armpits tickling in a way I had never been tickled before. I was screaming, hysterical, begging her to give me a rest. I was starting to worry her parents would hear me, even if they were in Cincinnati! Lyndsay was merciless, continuing to taunt me verbally. "Now I see why you enjoyed tickling me so much....this is really fun!"
She finally relented and let me catch my breath. "Enough, Lyndsay, please, I can't take it anymore!" The rest was shortlived, as she began again, this time at my wrists, and slowly working her way back to my armpits, and once again making me scream with uncontrollable laughter. She went back and forth between ribs, stomach and armpits for a good fifteen minutes. "OK, you've really been good about this," she said. "Now I know why tickling is so addictive....it's a power trip!"
I felt her moving down the bed, as she positioned herself near my knees. She began to run her fingertips up my thighs, inside my basketball shorts. There was something about having her hands between my short and my bare skin that tickled almost as bad as the armpit tickling. As she moved her hand further and further higher, I realized she was only inches from my erect penis.
This had not been part of the bargain, as I was getting dizzy from the heightened sexual tension as well as the incredible torture of having her hands tickling my butt and inner thighs. Suddenly, I felt her hand grabbing hold of my penis, as she whispered, "you've earned this." Within a few seconds, I had exploded with the most intense orgasm of my life. As I laid there shaking, I felt her cutting the panty hose off my arms and legs with a pair of scissors. A moment later, she returned with a hand towel, teasing me that I should probably clean myself up.
I was too exhausted to move, as Lyndsay laid down next to me and gave me a warm kiss. "Thank you, " she said. "That was more fun and more exciting than I thought possible. But I think it's more fun to be the tickler."
As far as I know, neither of us ever mentioned anything about that night to anyone. She and Tom broke up the next week, before she left for college. I never saw her again. Except in my dreams....
The three of us hung out a lot that summer, and I'll admit I developed kind of a crush on her. We got to be pretty good friends. I enjoyed just being around her, and I sensed she liked my off-beat sense of humor, plus the fact that I was always nice to her, while Tom, a pretty sarcastic guy, kind of took her for granted.
OK, I'm on this forum, so it's no secret that as time went by, I began to wonder if this beautiful girl might be ticklish. One night as the three of us were out in Tom's car, Lyndsay and I started a teasing argument about which radio station to listen to. She would push the button, then I would select another station, back and forth. Finally, I teasingly warned her not to touch the dial again. When she ignored me and turned the station, I grabbed her thigh, just above the knee. She instantly screamed, grabbed for my hand and yelled, "don't tickle me!" It was the genuine ticklish reaction I had been hoping to get. Over the course of the next week or so, I stepped up my tickle attacks, usually just a squeeze of the ribs, and never for more than a second or two, but the reaction was always the same.....Lyndsay was very ticklish.
I began to think about little else than getting an opportunity to really tickle her. My chance came a few days later. Tom and Lyndsay had stopped by my house to pick me up and they both came in for a few minutes. We were trying to decide what to do that night, but Lyndsay was not interested in any of our suggestions. We went through a list of movies we could go see, but every suggestion was met with indifference or worse. After several minutes of "attitude" from her, I looked at Tom and said, "I think your girlfriend could use an "attitude adjustment." I grabbed her off the couch and pinned her to the carpet and told Tom to hold her arms above her head.
I straddled her waist and began to tickle her ribs, as she screamed and struggled. As my hands went further up her ribcage, I noticed how her struggles to escape intensified, and when I reached her underarms, she went totally crazy. I attacked her armpits for maybe 30-45 seconds, and the paused, asking her, "are you ready to behave?" She was still trying to catch her breath, but wouldn't answer me. Instead, she gave me a look that I interpreted as "is that all you got?" "Apparently not," I said and resumed tickling her armpits for another minute or so. I had tickled a lot of people in my life, but never had seen anyone as uncontrollably and wildly ticklish as Lyndsay. Finally, Tom said he thought she had had enough, so we let her up. It took her a few minutes to compose herself, and I was hoping nobody had noticed how aroused I had become.
The night went by with no more tickling, or mention of tickling. But her reaction to my tickling her was something I could just not forget, even if I would never get another chance. But it turned out that I would.
Tom was a heck of a soccer player, and he played on a travel team during the summer. The next week, he was scheduled to play in a regional tournament in a neighboring state for the entire weekend. To my surprise, Lyndsay called me and asked if I wanted to hang out with her that Friday night while Tom was out of town. Naturally, I was more than happy to do so, and we agreed I would stop by her house and pick her up about 7 pm. When I got to her house, she let me in and I asked where Bob and Laura (her parents) were. She told me they had left around lunchtime to go to Cincinnati for a wedding, which meant her parents were going to be about six hours away for the entire weekend. Hmmmm....
She asked if I wanted something to drink, and while she went to the kitchen to get my coke, I turned on the TV to watch the baseball game. When she came back with my coke, she said, "oh no, I hate baseball....we're not watching this." "But I'm your guest," I said. "Yeah, but it's my house!" With that, she grabbed the remote and changed the channel, whereupon I took the remote and went back to the ball game.
As she tried to get the remote from me, I teasingly reminded her that last week, I had found out about a "certain weakness" she had, and that I was not above taking advantage of it. That didn't stop her, and as we were wrestling for control of the remote, I pinned her down on the couch and was able to grab both her hands with my left hand, which left my right hand totally free to revisit those ticklish underarms. Once again, she put up a tremendous struggle, but with both her hands occupied, I was able to continue to torture her ribs and especially her armpits. Finally, I had mercy on her and let her up. Her hair was messed up, she was totally out of breath and she was still giggling, when she looked at me and said, "you really like ticking me, don't you?" "Is it that obvious?" I said. "You're the most ticklish girl I've ever met....it's just so much fun to tickle someone like you."
Then she said, "What about you.....are you ticklish?" "Not really," I stammered. She said ,"What kind of answer is that...not really....you either are or you aren't." With that, she suddenly grabbed me around the waist and began to tickle me. Instinctively, I pulled away and grabbed at her hands. "Just as I thought," she said, "you can dish it out but you can't take it!"
I tried to make excuses, saying she startled me. "OK," she said, "lay down on the carpet with your hands above your head." Knowing full well I was in trouble, I did what she asked. She knelt down on the floor, with her fingers teasing me just a few inches from me, when she slowly started to tickle my armpits. I managed to endure it for a few seconds, but it was futile. I broke out laughing, grabbing her hands and admitting that, yes, I was ticklish too.
She then told me how she was always the one that got tickled, by her parents, by her older sister, by girlfriends at a slumber party, by a boyfriend or two. I asked if Tom tickled her, but she said no, he was not a tickler. She said she wanted to ask me something. I said sure. She then looked at me with those gorgeous green eyes and asked if she could tickle me, really tickle me.
I was stunned, I didn't know what to say, finally saying, "yes, but you could never hold me down...I would have to try to get away." "Not if I tied you down," she answered. She said she wanted to tie me to her bed so that I couldn't escape and then experience what it was like to be the tickler, rather than the one being tickled. I asked if she had handcuffs or rope. No, she said, but she had some old panty hose that she was pretty sure would work. I was still having trouble believing this was happening. A beautiful girl, one that I was clearly attracted to, wanted to fulfill a fantasy with me, a fantasy which involved tickling, which was my fetish to begin with! Is this why she invited me here in the first place tonight?
With my mouth full of cotton, and my legs wobbly, I agreed to be her "tickle toy" and followed her into her bedroom. She suggested I use the bathroom. Good idea, I said to myself. I was wearing long basketball shorts and a t-shirt, as I laid down on her bed. The bed didn't have bedposts, but Lyndsay said she could tie my arms and legs to the underside of the bed, using the panty hose. "Are you sure your parents are in Ohio?" I asked. "Don't worry about them," she said.
She wanted me spread eagle on my back, and she began by tying my hands to the bed. In my mind, I was pretty sure she would not be able to tie my so securely that I couldn't get away, if I really wanted to...at least I tried to tell myself that. When she finished with my arms, she used another pair of panty hose to tie my legs down. When she was done, she asked me if I could move. Surprisingly, she had done a very good job on tying me down, and now I wasn't feeling so sure about my ability to escape it I wanted to.
When she was finished tying, she asked if I was ready to start. I don't remember if I answered, but no, I was not ready for this!
Her room was fairly dark, but I could still see what she was doing. She first went down to the foot of the bed and removed my gym shoes. "Let's see how ticklish your feet are," she teased. This would prove to be a disappointment, because my feet were only slightly ticklish. If she was disappointed, she didn't let on. Instead, she moved back toward to head of the bed and positioned herself sitting on my stomach. Then she started with the verbal teasing....."isn't this how you had me pinned down last week at your house?" She lifted up the bottom of my shirt and ran her fingernails around my waist. Oh my God, what had I gotten myself into. Suddenly, she started tickling my ribs in earnest, as I burst into laughter. I instinctively tried to bring my arms down to protect myself, but the panty hose was holding tight. She alternated between slow teasing and fast tickling of my ribs and stomach, and both were very effective. Lyndsay was really enjoying this! She continued to tease me, telling me that "let's see, you really targeted my underarms when you were tickling me...is that because you know how horribly ticklish armpits are?" She had gotten off of my waist, and was now lying next to my, with both her hands under my shirt, moving them slowly up my sides, getting closer and closer to my armpits. I was now begging and laughing at the same time.... I could not move! After a minute of so of torturous teasing, both her hands were now in my armpits tickling in a way I had never been tickled before. I was screaming, hysterical, begging her to give me a rest. I was starting to worry her parents would hear me, even if they were in Cincinnati! Lyndsay was merciless, continuing to taunt me verbally. "Now I see why you enjoyed tickling me so much....this is really fun!"
She finally relented and let me catch my breath. "Enough, Lyndsay, please, I can't take it anymore!" The rest was shortlived, as she began again, this time at my wrists, and slowly working her way back to my armpits, and once again making me scream with uncontrollable laughter. She went back and forth between ribs, stomach and armpits for a good fifteen minutes. "OK, you've really been good about this," she said. "Now I know why tickling is so addictive....it's a power trip!"
I felt her moving down the bed, as she positioned herself near my knees. She began to run her fingertips up my thighs, inside my basketball shorts. There was something about having her hands between my short and my bare skin that tickled almost as bad as the armpit tickling. As she moved her hand further and further higher, I realized she was only inches from my erect penis.
This had not been part of the bargain, as I was getting dizzy from the heightened sexual tension as well as the incredible torture of having her hands tickling my butt and inner thighs. Suddenly, I felt her hand grabbing hold of my penis, as she whispered, "you've earned this." Within a few seconds, I had exploded with the most intense orgasm of my life. As I laid there shaking, I felt her cutting the panty hose off my arms and legs with a pair of scissors. A moment later, she returned with a hand towel, teasing me that I should probably clean myself up.
I was too exhausted to move, as Lyndsay laid down next to me and gave me a warm kiss. "Thank you, " she said. "That was more fun and more exciting than I thought possible. But I think it's more fun to be the tickler."
As far as I know, neither of us ever mentioned anything about that night to anyone. She and Tom broke up the next week, before she left for college. I never saw her again. Except in my dreams....
