Toesheldback
TMF Master
- Joined
- Sep 24, 2014
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This story is fiction and kind of non-consensual. Not really, but kinda. Might not be for everyone, but it's a scenario I've always enjoyed. I hope you do too.
She was a dead ringer for Reese Witherspoon.
I first met Lindsey at a club called The Bank at the Bellagio in Vegas, where we both live. Although we have mutual friends, I had never met her before. In Vegas, especially at some of the nicer clubs, it’s not unusual at all to see celebs partying, but they are typically in the VIP sections. So when I saw who I thought was Reese Witherspoon (I have such a crush on her) partying with the rest of us regular people, I had to meet her.
I’m not a great-looking guy, but I’m persistent. I got her number that night, sent her a text a few days later. We met over the next few weeks out at clubs, but it was pretty clear she wasn’t interested in me romantically. Then, early in the evening on a unseasonably chilly Saturday night at Tryst, we had an interesting conversation over vodka & Red Bulls.
A guy who was with us came up behind Lindsey and poked her in the ribs. Lindsey didn’t even turn around or acknowledge him. He tickled her ribs, and she rolled her eyes and turned around to tell him that she wasn’t ticklish. He gave up. I did not.
“You’re not ticklish?” I said, my mouth becoming dry.
“Nope”, Lindsey said. “It’s a sign of weakness”.
My mind raced. “Whatever. Everyone’s ticklish somewhere”. I had no idea where this was going.
“Not this girl”, Lindsey said. “People have tried before”.
“I bet you are”
“How much do you want to bet?”, my adorable Reese Witherspoon doppleganger said.
“Let me think about that…” I croaked, a lump rising in my throat.
I changed the subject, but my mind was racing. It was only 9pm, and I knew Lindsey would be partying till at least 2am. I snuck out of the club, and spent the next two hours setting up what I hoped would be the evening of my life.
Around 11pm the club was starting to get nuts. I found Lindsey, and when we here alone, I said, “Oh! Hey! Look!”. I grabbed the five $100 bills from my front pocket and fanned them in front of her.
“What’s that for?”, Lindsey said suspiciously.
“That’s yours if don’t laugh”, I hazarded.
Lindsey’s gorgeous face was puzzled. Then the realization hit her. “Tickling?”, she said, and then started laughing. “You’re stupid. But sure, I’ll take your money”.
I had picked up a room at the Wynn and as we left the club for what I’m sure she felt would be a 15-minute ordeal for $500, we discussed the rules.
No sex nor nudity. She had five minutes of tickling coming, regardless of whether she laughed or not. She agreed to be tied down. I barely remembered the room number. I was on a cloud.
I never promised, nor even mentioned that I would be the one doing the tickling.
Lovely, petite Lindsey was soon bound to the bed by a bunch of neckties I had hurriedly grabbed from my house earlier. Her wrists were tied together over her head, her smooth armpits bare and her ribcage easily visible through her white tank. He belly was accessible as her tank rode up from her jeans, which she wore low on her hips. Her feet were tied together at the ankles and were spectacularly bare. Some girls have feet that just look more “bare” than others, if that makes sense. The tanned tops of her feet with perfect red toes contrasted with her white, slightly rosy soles. Her feet were so sun-kissed that you could even see the untanned skin between her toes.
“Gag?” I asked, holding up a necktie. “What if you laugh so hard the hotel calls the cops?”
“Have I told you how stupid you are?”, my little Reese Witherspoon twin scolded. I took this as assent and gagged her. This chick was up for anything.
I set my phone timer for 5 minutes. “Are you ready?”
Lindsey winked at me. She is so cocky.
I got up, and opened the door, and let in the two “hired hands” I had paid earlier.
“I never said *I* would be the one to tickle you”. I winked back. Lindsey’s eyes grew wide. She mumbled something through her gag.
The two gals were working the bar earlier when I approached them. Both had lovely long fingernails that I had rented for five minutes. Why didn’t I personally want to get my hands on Lindsey’s hot little bod?
I wanted her face.
I wanted to see my lovely Reese’s face in laughing agony. So as I instructed my two gals to get started on Lindsey’s feet and ribs simultaneously, I crawled onto the bed and cradled her head in my hands, and looked deeply into her blue eyes. I started the timer.
I could actually hear one of my girls’ nails dancing across the bottoms of Lindsey’s feet in the silence. My rib tickler was doing a fantastic job on her ribs I was sure, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Lindsey’s face. I longed to see her expression crack when the tickling finally made her break. I thought I could do my part though, too. I leaned down and put my lips gently to Lindsey’s ear.
“Does that tickle, Lindsey?” I whispered. “Kitchy Kitchy coo? Oh, your feet are SO ticklish. And your ribs – she is driving you insane inside, I can tell..”
I whispered taunts into my poor little Lindsey’s ear as the girls worked her over. Within the first 30 seconds, Lindsey jerked her head back and forth, and screamed into her gag. This I had to see!
I held her face gently in my hands and just said, smiling, “tickle tickle tickle.. tickle tickle tickle..” in the most gently way imaginable.
That killed her.
Lindsey shut her gorgeous eyes and screamed with laughter. I immediately had an orgasm in my jeans I was dimly aware. For the next two minutes Lindsey’s beautiful, triangular face was in ticklish agony as she laughed into my necktie. I couldn’t take it any more. I loosened her gag and slid it down so I could hear her laughter.
Lindsey’s laughter was adorable. High, staccato laughter tapering off as she ran out of breath, and then gasped to laugh again. My girls were tirelessly tickling her soles and upper body. I kissed her.
I held her face gently and licked her lips, kissed her ear as I strained to listen to the music. As tears of laughter leaked from the corner of her eyes, I eagerly kissed them away, knowing I would remember the sweet salty taste for the rest of my life. I passionately kissed her open mouth until my phone indicated it was time for our fun to end.
I’m not a good looking guy, but I’m persistent. Lindsey and I got married last summer. At the chapel in the Wynn.
She was a dead ringer for Reese Witherspoon.
I first met Lindsey at a club called The Bank at the Bellagio in Vegas, where we both live. Although we have mutual friends, I had never met her before. In Vegas, especially at some of the nicer clubs, it’s not unusual at all to see celebs partying, but they are typically in the VIP sections. So when I saw who I thought was Reese Witherspoon (I have such a crush on her) partying with the rest of us regular people, I had to meet her.
I’m not a great-looking guy, but I’m persistent. I got her number that night, sent her a text a few days later. We met over the next few weeks out at clubs, but it was pretty clear she wasn’t interested in me romantically. Then, early in the evening on a unseasonably chilly Saturday night at Tryst, we had an interesting conversation over vodka & Red Bulls.
A guy who was with us came up behind Lindsey and poked her in the ribs. Lindsey didn’t even turn around or acknowledge him. He tickled her ribs, and she rolled her eyes and turned around to tell him that she wasn’t ticklish. He gave up. I did not.
“You’re not ticklish?” I said, my mouth becoming dry.
“Nope”, Lindsey said. “It’s a sign of weakness”.
My mind raced. “Whatever. Everyone’s ticklish somewhere”. I had no idea where this was going.
“Not this girl”, Lindsey said. “People have tried before”.
“I bet you are”
“How much do you want to bet?”, my adorable Reese Witherspoon doppleganger said.
“Let me think about that…” I croaked, a lump rising in my throat.
I changed the subject, but my mind was racing. It was only 9pm, and I knew Lindsey would be partying till at least 2am. I snuck out of the club, and spent the next two hours setting up what I hoped would be the evening of my life.
Around 11pm the club was starting to get nuts. I found Lindsey, and when we here alone, I said, “Oh! Hey! Look!”. I grabbed the five $100 bills from my front pocket and fanned them in front of her.
“What’s that for?”, Lindsey said suspiciously.
“That’s yours if don’t laugh”, I hazarded.
Lindsey’s gorgeous face was puzzled. Then the realization hit her. “Tickling?”, she said, and then started laughing. “You’re stupid. But sure, I’ll take your money”.
I had picked up a room at the Wynn and as we left the club for what I’m sure she felt would be a 15-minute ordeal for $500, we discussed the rules.
No sex nor nudity. She had five minutes of tickling coming, regardless of whether she laughed or not. She agreed to be tied down. I barely remembered the room number. I was on a cloud.
I never promised, nor even mentioned that I would be the one doing the tickling.
Lovely, petite Lindsey was soon bound to the bed by a bunch of neckties I had hurriedly grabbed from my house earlier. Her wrists were tied together over her head, her smooth armpits bare and her ribcage easily visible through her white tank. He belly was accessible as her tank rode up from her jeans, which she wore low on her hips. Her feet were tied together at the ankles and were spectacularly bare. Some girls have feet that just look more “bare” than others, if that makes sense. The tanned tops of her feet with perfect red toes contrasted with her white, slightly rosy soles. Her feet were so sun-kissed that you could even see the untanned skin between her toes.
“Gag?” I asked, holding up a necktie. “What if you laugh so hard the hotel calls the cops?”
“Have I told you how stupid you are?”, my little Reese Witherspoon twin scolded. I took this as assent and gagged her. This chick was up for anything.
I set my phone timer for 5 minutes. “Are you ready?”
Lindsey winked at me. She is so cocky.
I got up, and opened the door, and let in the two “hired hands” I had paid earlier.
“I never said *I* would be the one to tickle you”. I winked back. Lindsey’s eyes grew wide. She mumbled something through her gag.
The two gals were working the bar earlier when I approached them. Both had lovely long fingernails that I had rented for five minutes. Why didn’t I personally want to get my hands on Lindsey’s hot little bod?
I wanted her face.
I wanted to see my lovely Reese’s face in laughing agony. So as I instructed my two gals to get started on Lindsey’s feet and ribs simultaneously, I crawled onto the bed and cradled her head in my hands, and looked deeply into her blue eyes. I started the timer.
I could actually hear one of my girls’ nails dancing across the bottoms of Lindsey’s feet in the silence. My rib tickler was doing a fantastic job on her ribs I was sure, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Lindsey’s face. I longed to see her expression crack when the tickling finally made her break. I thought I could do my part though, too. I leaned down and put my lips gently to Lindsey’s ear.
“Does that tickle, Lindsey?” I whispered. “Kitchy Kitchy coo? Oh, your feet are SO ticklish. And your ribs – she is driving you insane inside, I can tell..”
I whispered taunts into my poor little Lindsey’s ear as the girls worked her over. Within the first 30 seconds, Lindsey jerked her head back and forth, and screamed into her gag. This I had to see!
I held her face gently in my hands and just said, smiling, “tickle tickle tickle.. tickle tickle tickle..” in the most gently way imaginable.
That killed her.
Lindsey shut her gorgeous eyes and screamed with laughter. I immediately had an orgasm in my jeans I was dimly aware. For the next two minutes Lindsey’s beautiful, triangular face was in ticklish agony as she laughed into my necktie. I couldn’t take it any more. I loosened her gag and slid it down so I could hear her laughter.
Lindsey’s laughter was adorable. High, staccato laughter tapering off as she ran out of breath, and then gasped to laugh again. My girls were tirelessly tickling her soles and upper body. I kissed her.
I held her face gently and licked her lips, kissed her ear as I strained to listen to the music. As tears of laughter leaked from the corner of her eyes, I eagerly kissed them away, knowing I would remember the sweet salty taste for the rest of my life. I passionately kissed her open mouth until my phone indicated it was time for our fun to end.
I’m not a good looking guy, but I’m persistent. Lindsey and I got married last summer. At the chapel in the Wynn.
