MarriedTickling
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Intro...
Hi everyone, this is my first venture into the world of tickle story writing but I hope that there will be many more!
A very quick bit of back ground on us, I've been into tickling for as long as I can remember (as most of you have been!). I've been slowly bringing my wife round to the idea of liking being tickled over the past few years and I'm happy to say that she's slowly getting there! This is a joint profile, which I mainly use but she does come on every now and again.
Please feel free to leave comments on what you think of the story or send either me or my wife a message (please put in the title who it is meant for).
Story...
So the day has finally come, the day that you have been waiting in eager anticipation for months now, the day that you get to tickle my wife...
We’ve had our drinks in the hotel bar, and we are all feeling more relaxed and at ease with each other. You have hardly been able to keep your eyes off of my wife all evening, thoughts racing through your head, how you are going to tickle her, what her reactions will be, where are her special little spots that tickle her the most. But as I leave the room and head back down to the bar and you hear the door close behind you, as you stand there at the foot of the bed with your eyes running up and down my wife’s stretched out body, her wrists tied to the head board high above her head, her nylon clad ankles tied to each corner of the foot of the bed, you take a moment, just one last second to collect yourself before the fun can really begin...
My wife looks up at you, her white work blouse is pulled tight against her body showing her feminine figure, her tight black pencil skirt has ridden up a little showing off the silky black nylons that cover her perfectly rounded thighs. She breaths a little faster than usual, her nerves building a little as I leave the room, leaving her completely at your mercy... “Now you will play nicely with me wont you...?” she asks, with a little quiver in her soft, sweet voice.
You stay quiet, only giving her a playful wink as you climb onto the bed and crawl up between her thighs, lifting your legs over you straddle her hips and look down into her beautiful brown eyes. She lets out a little nervous giggle, trying to keep her composure as her eyes are fixed on yours.
Reaching forwards you hold your fingertips just millimetres away from her elbows, watching for a reaction you start to wriggle them slowly in the air, her body already starting to squirm under you. A moment passes, for my wife it seems and eternity, but just as she stops squirming your fingertip touches the soft cotton of her blouse, gliding playfully up and down just above both of her elbows. Letting out a little giggle she tries to pull her arms down but quickly realises she can’t. Listening to the sound of her soft giggles your fingertips follow the undersides of her arms down towards those sensitive armpits. You tease her again and again by tickling down, right to the edge of her armpits before running your fingers back up to her elbows, only to start all over again. My wife’s eyes are still fixed on you as she giggles softly, her arms twitching every time your tickling fingers threaten her helpless armpits.
You can’t help yourself any longer, teasing her one last time your fingertips stop on the very edge of her armpits, but instead of returning to her elbows they stay, gently wriggling against the soft cotton of her blouse before they dip down, wriggling into both of her armpits together.
“EEEEeheheheheheheheeeee!!” My wife lets out a ticklish squeal as she tries to pull her arms down once again. Your fingers start to speed up and fly across her sensitive armpits, back and forth, back and forth. All my wife can do is giggle and wriggle as you tickle her, trying to buck you off as her hips jump back and forth. Her head roles back and she squeels “o god noo!! Pleeheheheeheeeease!!!”. Her pleas fall on deaf ears as you continue to tickle her. For minute after minute you ride her hips, the sound of her giggles and squeals music to your ears as you scribble up and down, round and round over her sensitive armpits and watch her desperately pulling at her bonds, which work perfectly to hold her tight in her place.
A few minutes pass as she wriggles and squeals helplessly under you before you reach down with your left hand and give her ribs a little squeeze. Instantly her eyes open wide as she lets out shreek “AAAAAA!!Hahahehehehee!!” and nearly bucks you off of her. Putting both hands down on the bed to catch your balance you look down at her with an evil grin. “O god no... I’m sorry! No!! Please don’t tickle me!!” my wife begs you as she tries to catch her breath. Straitening up you continue to straddle her hips, sliding down her body slightly so the bottom of her blouse is exposed. With her eyes closed tight she feels your fingertips slowly side their way up under her top. You feel her soft sensitive skin for the first time as you run your hands up over her taught, stretched out stomach and rest them on her exposed ribs. Lifting your hands you leave just your fingers touching her ribs, feeling her chest rising and falling faster as she can tell exactly what is coming. With no hesitation you begin your assault and start to move up and down her ribs, wriggling all ten fingers over and between them, tweaking and pinching you don’t let up. Squeeling and screaming with ticklish laughter my wife tries to buck and wriggle her way to safety, but her bonds keep her arms high above her head and her ticklish ribs at your mercy. Again and again your fingers dig into her ribs, wriggling as quickly as they can, searching for every last ticklish nerve as they follow her twisting body. She tries to role one way and then the next, closing her eyes tight as hair flies across her face. Begging you to stop, over and over “PLEEHEHEHEEEASEEE NOOOO!!! STOPPP!!!! EEEHEHEHEHEHEEEE!!!” but you don’t listen as your ticking fingers explore her ribs for minute after torturous minute.
You finally relent as you see my wife’s face start to turn a little red and tears start to role down her cheeks. You run your hands gently over her stomach and sides, letting her catch her breath you brush some of the hair from her face. Giggles still escape her lips as her breathing starts to return to normal. “So much for playing nicely!!” she giggles. All you do in response is give her sides a little tickle, watching with delight as she wriggles under you once more before swinging a your leg over and climbing off of the bed.
Her eyes remain fixed on you once more as you look up and down her outstretched body. Her clothes looking a little less smart than before your ticklish fingers started to play with her helpless sensitive skin. Her blouse has been pulled up a little, the bottom button popped open showing off her soft taught stomach. All the wriggling has caused her skirt to rise further up her nylon covered thighs.
You take one last look before heading to the foot of the bed. “No... wait... stop... please not my feet...” my wife starts to beg “anywhere but my feet...!” Sitting at the end of the bed you take no notice, rubbing both of her small, UK size 3 feet. So sensitive and so ticklish they already start to wriggle and twitch as your hands slide over them, trying to massage them but all she can feel is tickling touches. Lifting your hands away you spin round, kneeling on the floor, facing her right foot you cup it with your right hand, holding it still as she tries to pull it away. Her toes flex and curl before your fingertips even touch her helpless nyloned foot.
Starting at her heal you trace a single fingertip from the bottom of her foot, up over the sensitive arch to the base of her toes and back down again. Watching for every little ticklish twitch and giggle you explore her foot, back and forth your fingertip traces as she giggles softly, shaking her head from side to side as her foot twitches and wriggles against your hand. Still only using a single finger you apply a little more pressure, starting to target one part of her foot at a time. First her heal, tracing little ticklish circles around it then up and over it. Before moving onto her arch, as soon as your fingertip scratches across it she squeels, trying to pull her foot away yet again but you hold it steady. Flicking up and down her high, sensitive arch you increase the pace bit by bit, gliding your finger faster and faster. Her giggles and squeels get louder and louder, reaching a climax as you let your other four fingers join the fun. My wife screams with laughter as she feels all five of your fingertips scratch up and down the silky nylon of her right arch “AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!AHHEHEHEHEHEEHEHEEEEEEEE!!!”. Your fingers don’t let up, ignoring her screams you tickle her arch for a minute more before switching to the sides of her feet then up to the base of her toes. Holding them back with your left hand you scribble your fingertips with glee into that most ticklish of spots. She screams and begs for mercy, again and again she tries to pull away, thrashing from one side to the other, but she is tied tight. Helpless at your mercy.
A minute or two passes as you torture her ticklish toes before stopping abruptly. Looking up the bed you can see my wife still giggling and trying to catch her breath. But without hesitation you reach over to her left foot, raking all five fingers down it making her squeal with laughter once again. “EEEHEHEHEHEHEEEEE!! Nooo!! Pleeheheheeasseeee stoooppp!! Not my feeheheheheeettt!!” she begs but her ticklish pleas do nothing but spur you on. Leaving one hand to tickle and explore her left foot your other hand starts to do the same to her right. Feeling both her sensitive feet tickled at once my wife almost loses control. Bucking up and down, wriggling left and right, fighting against her restraints to no avail. Your fingers scribble mercilessly across every last inch of her sensitive feet, over and over as you listen to her squeal and scream for mercy. Over her silky arches, under her slender toes, across her sensitive heal, your fingers tickle her right to the edge of ticklish hell and back.
Finally, after a few long minutes you relent. Taking your hands away from her feet you give her a break. Sitting back on the bed next to her you watch as her chest rises and falls, trying to catch her breath and regain some form of composure at the hands of her new tickle master.
Hi everyone, this is my first venture into the world of tickle story writing but I hope that there will be many more!
A very quick bit of back ground on us, I've been into tickling for as long as I can remember (as most of you have been!). I've been slowly bringing my wife round to the idea of liking being tickled over the past few years and I'm happy to say that she's slowly getting there! This is a joint profile, which I mainly use but she does come on every now and again.
Please feel free to leave comments on what you think of the story or send either me or my wife a message (please put in the title who it is meant for).
Story...
So the day has finally come, the day that you have been waiting in eager anticipation for months now, the day that you get to tickle my wife...
We’ve had our drinks in the hotel bar, and we are all feeling more relaxed and at ease with each other. You have hardly been able to keep your eyes off of my wife all evening, thoughts racing through your head, how you are going to tickle her, what her reactions will be, where are her special little spots that tickle her the most. But as I leave the room and head back down to the bar and you hear the door close behind you, as you stand there at the foot of the bed with your eyes running up and down my wife’s stretched out body, her wrists tied to the head board high above her head, her nylon clad ankles tied to each corner of the foot of the bed, you take a moment, just one last second to collect yourself before the fun can really begin...
My wife looks up at you, her white work blouse is pulled tight against her body showing her feminine figure, her tight black pencil skirt has ridden up a little showing off the silky black nylons that cover her perfectly rounded thighs. She breaths a little faster than usual, her nerves building a little as I leave the room, leaving her completely at your mercy... “Now you will play nicely with me wont you...?” she asks, with a little quiver in her soft, sweet voice.
You stay quiet, only giving her a playful wink as you climb onto the bed and crawl up between her thighs, lifting your legs over you straddle her hips and look down into her beautiful brown eyes. She lets out a little nervous giggle, trying to keep her composure as her eyes are fixed on yours.
Reaching forwards you hold your fingertips just millimetres away from her elbows, watching for a reaction you start to wriggle them slowly in the air, her body already starting to squirm under you. A moment passes, for my wife it seems and eternity, but just as she stops squirming your fingertip touches the soft cotton of her blouse, gliding playfully up and down just above both of her elbows. Letting out a little giggle she tries to pull her arms down but quickly realises she can’t. Listening to the sound of her soft giggles your fingertips follow the undersides of her arms down towards those sensitive armpits. You tease her again and again by tickling down, right to the edge of her armpits before running your fingers back up to her elbows, only to start all over again. My wife’s eyes are still fixed on you as she giggles softly, her arms twitching every time your tickling fingers threaten her helpless armpits.
You can’t help yourself any longer, teasing her one last time your fingertips stop on the very edge of her armpits, but instead of returning to her elbows they stay, gently wriggling against the soft cotton of her blouse before they dip down, wriggling into both of her armpits together.
“EEEEeheheheheheheheeeee!!” My wife lets out a ticklish squeal as she tries to pull her arms down once again. Your fingers start to speed up and fly across her sensitive armpits, back and forth, back and forth. All my wife can do is giggle and wriggle as you tickle her, trying to buck you off as her hips jump back and forth. Her head roles back and she squeels “o god noo!! Pleeheheheeheeeease!!!”. Her pleas fall on deaf ears as you continue to tickle her. For minute after minute you ride her hips, the sound of her giggles and squeals music to your ears as you scribble up and down, round and round over her sensitive armpits and watch her desperately pulling at her bonds, which work perfectly to hold her tight in her place.
A few minutes pass as she wriggles and squeals helplessly under you before you reach down with your left hand and give her ribs a little squeeze. Instantly her eyes open wide as she lets out shreek “AAAAAA!!Hahahehehehee!!” and nearly bucks you off of her. Putting both hands down on the bed to catch your balance you look down at her with an evil grin. “O god no... I’m sorry! No!! Please don’t tickle me!!” my wife begs you as she tries to catch her breath. Straitening up you continue to straddle her hips, sliding down her body slightly so the bottom of her blouse is exposed. With her eyes closed tight she feels your fingertips slowly side their way up under her top. You feel her soft sensitive skin for the first time as you run your hands up over her taught, stretched out stomach and rest them on her exposed ribs. Lifting your hands you leave just your fingers touching her ribs, feeling her chest rising and falling faster as she can tell exactly what is coming. With no hesitation you begin your assault and start to move up and down her ribs, wriggling all ten fingers over and between them, tweaking and pinching you don’t let up. Squeeling and screaming with ticklish laughter my wife tries to buck and wriggle her way to safety, but her bonds keep her arms high above her head and her ticklish ribs at your mercy. Again and again your fingers dig into her ribs, wriggling as quickly as they can, searching for every last ticklish nerve as they follow her twisting body. She tries to role one way and then the next, closing her eyes tight as hair flies across her face. Begging you to stop, over and over “PLEEHEHEHEEEASEEE NOOOO!!! STOPPP!!!! EEEHEHEHEHEHEEEE!!!” but you don’t listen as your ticking fingers explore her ribs for minute after torturous minute.
You finally relent as you see my wife’s face start to turn a little red and tears start to role down her cheeks. You run your hands gently over her stomach and sides, letting her catch her breath you brush some of the hair from her face. Giggles still escape her lips as her breathing starts to return to normal. “So much for playing nicely!!” she giggles. All you do in response is give her sides a little tickle, watching with delight as she wriggles under you once more before swinging a your leg over and climbing off of the bed.
Her eyes remain fixed on you once more as you look up and down her outstretched body. Her clothes looking a little less smart than before your ticklish fingers started to play with her helpless sensitive skin. Her blouse has been pulled up a little, the bottom button popped open showing off her soft taught stomach. All the wriggling has caused her skirt to rise further up her nylon covered thighs.
You take one last look before heading to the foot of the bed. “No... wait... stop... please not my feet...” my wife starts to beg “anywhere but my feet...!” Sitting at the end of the bed you take no notice, rubbing both of her small, UK size 3 feet. So sensitive and so ticklish they already start to wriggle and twitch as your hands slide over them, trying to massage them but all she can feel is tickling touches. Lifting your hands away you spin round, kneeling on the floor, facing her right foot you cup it with your right hand, holding it still as she tries to pull it away. Her toes flex and curl before your fingertips even touch her helpless nyloned foot.
Starting at her heal you trace a single fingertip from the bottom of her foot, up over the sensitive arch to the base of her toes and back down again. Watching for every little ticklish twitch and giggle you explore her foot, back and forth your fingertip traces as she giggles softly, shaking her head from side to side as her foot twitches and wriggles against your hand. Still only using a single finger you apply a little more pressure, starting to target one part of her foot at a time. First her heal, tracing little ticklish circles around it then up and over it. Before moving onto her arch, as soon as your fingertip scratches across it she squeels, trying to pull her foot away yet again but you hold it steady. Flicking up and down her high, sensitive arch you increase the pace bit by bit, gliding your finger faster and faster. Her giggles and squeels get louder and louder, reaching a climax as you let your other four fingers join the fun. My wife screams with laughter as she feels all five of your fingertips scratch up and down the silky nylon of her right arch “AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!AHHEHEHEHEHEEHEHEEEEEEEE!!!”. Your fingers don’t let up, ignoring her screams you tickle her arch for a minute more before switching to the sides of her feet then up to the base of her toes. Holding them back with your left hand you scribble your fingertips with glee into that most ticklish of spots. She screams and begs for mercy, again and again she tries to pull away, thrashing from one side to the other, but she is tied tight. Helpless at your mercy.
A minute or two passes as you torture her ticklish toes before stopping abruptly. Looking up the bed you can see my wife still giggling and trying to catch her breath. But without hesitation you reach over to her left foot, raking all five fingers down it making her squeal with laughter once again. “EEEHEHEHEHEHEEEEE!! Nooo!! Pleeheheheeasseeee stoooppp!! Not my feeheheheheeettt!!” she begs but her ticklish pleas do nothing but spur you on. Leaving one hand to tickle and explore her left foot your other hand starts to do the same to her right. Feeling both her sensitive feet tickled at once my wife almost loses control. Bucking up and down, wriggling left and right, fighting against her restraints to no avail. Your fingers scribble mercilessly across every last inch of her sensitive feet, over and over as you listen to her squeal and scream for mercy. Over her silky arches, under her slender toes, across her sensitive heal, your fingers tickle her right to the edge of ticklish hell and back.
Finally, after a few long minutes you relent. Taking your hands away from her feet you give her a break. Sitting back on the bed next to her you watch as her chest rises and falls, trying to catch her breath and regain some form of composure at the hands of her new tickle master.
