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The Dream (*/m)

gth

Registered User
Joined
Oct 27, 2005
Messages
37
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As a child, I still remember my dreams after the day I would first feel the wonder of tickling. Though I never spoke of my fantasies, I knew I would forever stay connected to those strong desires. Years later, after I remarried, I knew I was free enough to investigate and talk about those feelings. Then, I found myself in a ticklish world that transformed my love for tickling in ways I could never imagine. I’ve had that dream over and over again. I can’t wait to go back.

The dream begins in the same way. I arrive home grateful for the end of a particularly exhausting day. I am ready for one thing and one thing alone: uninterrupted sleep. Restless from the stress of some fairly rigorous battles, I don’t even have the strength to take clothes off. I fall face forward into my pillows and willingly slip into the Land of Nod. My mattress feels particularly pleasant … so much so that I find myself sinking thru the top of the blanket and feel comfortably surrounded, curiously relaxed.

I soon come to know that my clothes are now off, but I disregard this fact as I choose to believe I’ve obviously disrobed earlier without really paying attention. After all, I’m really tired and don’t want to stay awake. I normally sleep on my stomach with my legs slightly spread apart. This time, in a slightly sleepy state, I find my legs positioned far apart exposing every inch of skin and leaving my manhood open to a small breeze. I begin to experience the flowing of lukewarm water soaking all over me. As the water courses around me, I find myself aware that I am floating yet still firmly held by someone or something tender yet unyielding. My arms are above my head and I am unable to move, though not stressed in any way. I am keenly aware that I have no control over my limbs, though still feeling everything around me.

I can’t help but snicker as I feel the sensation of being tickled all over me. At some point, I come to realize that the “water” running over me is actually a solution designed to accentuate my ticklishness. My heart races in exhilaration … aware that I can do nothing to shield myself from what my skin endures. Snickers turn to laughing while I struggle in vain to free myself. As the solution’s rate of flow increases, I give in to the notion that I cannot escape. It would be best for me to settle in for the ride. I hear my heart beat in my head as I feel it pulse in my chest.

Minutes move deliberately forward, as what begins as a slow drip is now an even flow like a shower. Accordingly, my laughter is loud and intense as every inch of my skin literally tickles from head to toe. I feel liquid rolling from the top of a butt cheek into crevices usually concealed as my legs are so stretched far apart. As I am more susceptible to light even touches rather than what has been referred to as “hard tickling”, the fluid’s even flow sends me to another level of sensitivity. The sound of my laughter is deep and intense while I silently beg for more. Every part of me craves the tickling sensations because I know where I want my body’s torture to lead. My shaft hardens and nerve endings excite with every drip that flows down. As aroused as I already am, my mind knows that I am all the more ticklish as I am continually tickled.

Eventually the flow of moisture slows to a stop, though I still feel residual wetness crawling over my astoundingly sensitive skin. I’m still laughing low, deep guffaws. I should be sweating profusely with all of the activity, but breezes blows across my skin drying it completely. I constantly powder after showering to dry quickly, but I find I am immediately covered to excess. The cradled sense of being invisibly held in mid-air couples with the sense of feather like tentacles wrapping every inch of my frame from my neck to in between each toe. My mind is not quite cognizant of what may happen as I’m still overwhelmed by what I have endured. Physically, the nerve endings in my chub are simply electrified … it wouldn’t take long for an explosion the likes that I haven’t felt to this date.

By this time, I am obviously fully awake and keenly aware of my surroundings. I begin to feel the feather covering slowly slide across a small section of my thigh and soft laughter arises again. Once again, I decide to resign to this exercise in endurance. I have already gone through what felt like hours of dripping tickle torture … what could be different about experiencing a dry version of the same type of attacks?

It’s not long before the feeling of feathers sliding over my entire body transports me. The lightness of the touch is electric as it is, if it weren’t for the fact that the same feathering surrounds my already highly hypersensitive manhood. I am, in fact, so ticklish now that I can’t moan or prepare for any discharge. The fact that I am unable to move, even though I feel restraint or urge to free myself, leaves me with one release at my ready: long, high-pitched screams of laughter.

This timeline feels as if minutes will soon turn to hours. Some areas of my body feel the sensation of tickling feathers switch to pointed tongues moving in slow pulsing circles. Other parts are still feathered just as intently as before … my mind can’t process the change, except to acknowledge the change around my pelvis. My shaft still feels the sliding feathers cover each skin cell and my head still aches as the sensations of feathers vibrate over my entire head.

My pelvis now is wet with the moisture of multiple tongues skating back and forth ever so lightly from hip to crack. My face hurts with the contorting exercises that come with laughing this hard, though there is no sound. I feel as if I should feel the explosion bursting through my skin, but I am again denied and the desire for more grows ever stronger. My mind races. My heart beats. I am unable to speak … to even form words because the need to laugh is simply overwhelming.

I begin to feel the sheath surrounding my penis moving up toward my electrified head and down toward my already sensitive testicles, as if I am deep inside my lover. I try to look for her but find myself attempting to process more sensation. My heels, fresh from a pedicure, are lightly bitten … my toes sucked and the top of my feet feel wiggling fingers. My pelvis now feels tentacles wiggle like fingers in circles. My armpits now have tongues sliding in circles around the hollows. Fingers dance across my kneecaps … all of this while the motion over my penis increases in intensity, though not faster.

It appears the time is soon coming for my release, though I have to wonder how much more I can endure before its arrival. Each rise in my arousal makes me all the more ticklish … to the point that I think about a part of my body and feel tickled there. The sheath around my penis begins to turn circles around my head and I know we have turned a corner. I have never felt this much pleasure ready to emanate, but my already hardened shaft can’t hold it in.

I ache with anticipation. My laughter knows no bounds. I am unable to move with every inch exposed, though still floating free in midair.

My physique is ticklish beyond imagination. There is no way for me to handle more stimulation. The moment my body waits for finally arrives as my manhood grows immense and harder from mounting pleasure and fluid waiting to release. The sheath’s motion hasn’t gotten any faster, but the intensity builds with every inch of my skin stroked by feathers or fingers or licked by tongues.

I feel my sphincter muscles expand and prepare to contract and push out my seed. The pleasure builds and I wait for the pulsing to begin. Every inch of me from head to toe feels my release. The joy flows from me long and free like a river ... without contracting.

As the release flows freely, my body's sensitivity increases three fold. The sheath that has covered my whole body now becomes a carousel of constant and random stimulation. Every piece of my skin feels the pulse of a moist tongue, feathers or fingers sliding across.

As I have now released all of my seed, my body is more ticklish than it has ever been. It appears I will never escaped the dream world. My eyes are closed with tears falling and laughter bellowing from me. That is when I hear the voice of my love. I see her eyes and I'm grateful for her smile because I come to realize that I am now moved away from the dream. That is, until I feel her on top of me. "Are you ready"?
 
Excellent read...

Sounds like a very nice place to be in to me. You certainly are very descript and have a handle on your fetish.

My hat's off to you sir...
 
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