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“If I had known my son was this ticklish still," (F/M)

OnlyForNow2015

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Nov 27, 2014
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SEQUEL/pt.2 to http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?257609-quot-Your-mom-liked-me-best-of-all-your-girlfriends-quot-%28FF%28F%29-M%29-%2818-%29-%28controversial%29&p=3873413#post3873413


I knocked on the front door. My legs were shaking and I didn’t know what I’d do when she answered, but I had about fifteen seconds to come up with something. Katrina stood beside me, a devilish grin on her face that I did not yet share. Not yet.

Jay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry because I didn’t want to make it this extreme, I just wanted to take back my love of tickling. I didn’t want you being coochie coo’d by some other girl you look dreamily at, all because I went and showed you the ecstasy of your full body. A bit unorthodox of a fetish it may be, but the idea that I’d made your entire body a sex organ to you, and that it wasn’t mine, but someone else’s. My friend Katrina. Girls in the future I’ll never know and never be sure that they’re doing right by you.

And I got my wish. Without even realizing it, I got it. I was afraid of being your first tickler and then never again, when now I realize that I was never your first tickler all along. And I’ll never be your last tickler because I’ve finally found a happy way to arrange it.

Your first tickler can be your last tickler. And me, I’ll be the one who was in the middle.

We had climbed out of your window after five minutes of hearing you thrash, scream, cry, beg. It was when the begging was at the top of your lungs that I realized the danger I’d put you in. With a quiet exit we climbed out the screenless window and snuck around the front of the house. What were we going to do? I don’t know, but now I’m knocking on the front door and hoping more than anything that the unthinkable didn’t just happen.

I was going to kill her if she tickled our spot.

And now I’m knocking on the front door. One, two, three, I counted and I trembled and it was on number fifteen that Julie opened the door. A smile so wide that I’d almost forgotten, Jay’s mom is absolutely infatuated with me. Not in a sexual way, but she knew I was right for her babyboy. How could I not be? I dual enrolled and maintained a GPA over 3.7 since starting college, I’d baked with her a few times during the holidays Jay and I were together, and according to her I dressed the way she did when she was younger. Dresses and stockings and all that girly shit, where nowadays she’s dressed as a corporate-looking mom. A white Claire Huxtable.

She looks over at Katrina and seems less than happy. Almost afraid. I realized pretty quickly that she was familiar with Katrina as a girl that her son was boing-ing, and since I was the ex-girlfriend (who Julie probably missed more than anything) and standing beside this new girl, I bet Julie was wondering if I knew. Oh I knew. If only you knew.

“Well if you girls didn’t come at just the funniest time,” Julie said in a way that make my toes shiver. I don’t know how to describe it, but Julie turns me on. The fact that she was referring to what was going on in the other room made me realize that this was going to be harder than I thought. Then, with each step taken into the house and eventually towards Julie’s bedroom, I started to see the silver lining.

I smiled and hugged her. “Oh?” I reply innocently. “Is this bad timing? I’m sorry Mrs. J-”
“NO no, it’s perfect timing!” Julie’s face lit up as she reeled back and put her hands on my shoulders. “It’s… oh, well come see.” She starts walking towards the bedroom, still looking at me, and I walk after her slowly. Oh my god, I, what, what’s about to happen

= = =

No, Jay thought. No please, please please please this can’t be happening please. His ex was such a crazy bitch. This was too far, this was the worst thing that could ever happen to Jay as far as he knew. Mom tickling me? Mom hasn’t tickled me since I was fucking 7 years old. I… no, I don’t want to feel that. Not from her.

But then he thought, no. There’s no way. That’s not his sister’s handwriting and Mom would know it. Mom wouldn’t believe it and even if she did, he would talk his way out of it as soon as she took his gag off. There’s no way Mom is leaving the gag on me, Jay thought. There’s no way.

“You know what else girls are good at, sweetie?”. They just had to put that line about woman’s work in there, to make it harder to talk his way out of this and to push Julie’s feminist buttons. And what an insult on Jay, what an insult to a mind that’s as un-sexist and respectful to women. Rap tap tap tap. Oh no. Oh no, not… not that noise. Jay knew the sound of his mom’s nails, but he’d never heard them tapping quite like that. Quite, to a rhythm. Jay suddenly remembered the way Theresa had been tickling his nipples. Sweet relief, thought he, because there’s no way Mom is touching him there. The context would never come up, and therefore, their plan to make him pop a boner as soon as tickling occurred was foiled.

Right?

“You know what else girls are good at, sweetie?” And then nothing in the world could have prepared him for the sensation of his mom’s hands on his bare tummy for the first time in 10 years.

Jay went ballistic. BUT I’M WEARING A SHIRT was all Jay would think internally for the first five seconds, her hands having no ease in slipping up and inside of it. Jay’s bare tummy, Mom’s bare hands, and what might be the most embarrassing way Julie had ever laughed at her son. The softness of her skin as it grazed across his abdomen, both hands, but with all the tenderness of a woman that doesn’t want to hurt or humiliate or seek revenge. Just… the softest feeling a boy could ever feel on his unprotected belly. Up Jay buckled with force against this rubbing, and it was after ten seconds that Jay realized the horror. Oh my god, she’s… she’s…. She’s RUBBING my tummy to tickle me. And she was. No finger wingling, no nails, no sharp little prods, but all the very opposite. Here was Jay completely stretched and wearing a Hawaiian shirt, the buttons were buttoned thank GOD, but now here’s Mom gliding her hands underneath it. She pet the length of his tummy a good twenty times with both of her hands, and she laughed as much as he did.

This was the first minute of Jay’s tickletime with his Mom. One down, nine to go. He didn’t know that, of course, but the thing we’re counting down to wasn’t exactly in Jay’s favor anyway. Jay had a problem, though. The problem was this: he felt really good. Too good. Mom was making him feel ticklish but she wasn’t really tickling him, just affectionately making him buckle and jump by caressing an area that happened to be ticklish. She had rubbed lotion on his bare belly before when he was sick, why should this be any different? It is different, though, he thought, those hands are making you feel good and they know it. She’s not trying to hurt you, she’s laughing. She’s loving how ticklish you are.

And that’s when Jay felt it began to stir. NO. His penis had been precariously placed under the linens of his buttonless boxers’ hole. You couldn’t see his Jay Jr. through the hole because it was covered, but if he were to rise, there’d be absolutely nothing in the way of stopping it from pushing up and out of the cloth. Once this happened, the fullness of Jay’s erect penis would poke out freely for the erection, and even more embarrassingly, just the teeny little head would be left poking out if he should lose that erection. Jay didn’t know which thought scared him more: Mom seeing him rock hard, or Mom seeing him flaccid and poking on out.

It was stirring. There were no words for how grateful he was when she stopped rubbing his tummy. Her hands came back out of the shirt and off of his body, and the pleasure down below subsided. Relief, he thought, until he found out where her hands had gone. Snap. Snap. Oh no, Mom, not th-

“Let’s just get this out of the way!” she said cheerily. She was unbuttoning his shirt. It took all of twelve seconds for the vulnerability and accessibility to return to his abdomen, and into the second minute the rubbing resumed. Oh how it was worse now. Jay mmmphed harder through his gag than he’d ever in all his years of being gagged by girlfriends.

Rub rub rub rub.
“MMMPH NO,” Jay begged. He couldn’t see a thing but he felt like she was looking at him. He wasn’t stirring, he couldn’t have been, but Mom must have figured out something was keeping him from fully laughing. What was it? Of course, it was that if Jay fully succumbed to this sensation, he would give away how he really feels about it. Unfortunately for him, she mistook it for not tickling enough.
Julie had an idea or two about how to change that. Tickle talk time.

“Wow,” Julie said coyly with her hands gliding up her son’s quivering belly, stopping and tracing the ribs, “I wish I’d known you were this ticklish still, honey.” She rubbed his ribs now and noticed him mmph’ing louder. Perfect. Julie had hoped to find a new spot to start using her words to help torture him further. The ribs would be a fun one.

“Wow. You’re still so sensitive! Tickle tickle tickle.” She rubbed extra soft and drove him ballistic. “If I had known my son was this ticklish still in the first place, I would have grounded him very differently,” she said, now rubbing her fingertips on the fleshy sensitive spot above his navel. He eep’d.

“Ahahaha aww sweetie,” she said. She poked him on this spot above the bellybutton again. Eep.

Oh no. She… she thinks it’s cute. She th-

Poke.
EEP.
Poke.
EEP. The only sound a gag can’t muffle apparently.
Poke poke.
EEPPHHGH.

“Oh baby,” Julie giggled at her helpless son, now resuming the rubs as before as a most agonizing minute three became minute four, “this is adorable.” Jay felt very unadorable, very confused, very… god, Theresa had found that spot once. She gave him a footjob while she tickled it and he came harder than he thought he ever had. Now Mom was prodding her fingers into the same little crevice.

But the rubs were back.

Rub rub rub. Up and down his tummy, hands so soft Jay felt such a shame in wishing he’d dated a girl with hands that felt like this. If only they weren’t Mom’s, he thought. Suddenly he realized, the blindfold was probably making this all the more worse. He knows that it’s Mom but she isn’t speaking and he can’t see her, so Jay figures that this sensation of quasi-pleasure is simply that: delusional.

Rub rub r-… poke.

Jay screamed.

Poke.

Oh no.

Rub rub rub rub rub poke poke rub poke ru- OH GOD NO, SHE ISN’T. She was. Julie was using both hands, her left to keep on rubbing his smooth abdomen down and her right to poke little electric tickles across her son’s ribs. Each one sent off a twinge that Jay felt in his lap, in his chest, a jolt that made his toes spasm wildly and his hips buckle upward. And she was speaking again. Oh my god, he thought. Mom STOP TALKING.

“Tickatickaticka,” she said in her unique mom variation that she always had tickled him with as a kid, “tickaickatickletickle.” The poking was exquisite torture of the highest caliber, Jay was so grateful that she was as far from his nipples as she was. This five minutes may have been humiliating, but, Jay thought, it hasn’t been so bad. She’s just tickling me a lot and she seems to find affection in it. I guess there’s no harm in this, thinks Jay. I guess there isn’t a-

Then Mom removed his blindfold.

“Oh Jay,” she said immediately. He was so stunned by this moment, he felt as if he knew the horror she would say before she even said it. She took out his gag.

“I’m sorry I got a little carried away,” she said. “I just haven’t had a chance to tickle you like that since you were little,” she said somewhat deflatedly. “I’d forgotten what it was like. And how cute you are when it happens.” She poked the right side of his ribcage sweetly. He howled, for the first time in a while now that the gag was out. Julie laughed again.

“Do you want me to stop?” she said. And Jay felt… wow, Jay felt like he didn’t have a bit of sense to speak for. What? Do I want you to stop, I… well, I thought I did, but now you’re asking me and I’m just staring back at you and I don’t seem to know what to say. I need to say ‘yes’. I need to say yes. I-

“-because I’m not going to.” Before he knew it the blindfold was being placed on him again.

Jay felt some movement on the bed now. Shifting. Repositioning. What… what’s happening? He was so relieved that the gag had not been replaced but the blindfold was an absolute nightmare.

Then he felt it.

“OH MY GOD MOM NO NOT TH-”

To be continued.
 
Ohhh man another cliffhanger. :(
more I want more :D
 
Thank you :) apologies that it was only half the length of the other. this was going to be longer but I cleaved it and added some of it to part 3.
 
Omg. I can't wait for the next part. This is so good.

Hey I love your signature image:

En99fo_H.jpg


I could not agree more with the message: "Tickle fights are the best".

You are a amazing.
 
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