PeterVincentTGVK
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2007
- Messages
- 1,065
- Points
- 38
Hello, readers! At the request of a couple longtime fans, I am officially starting what will be called the JTCU (or the Jenni The Clown Universe). The idea came from 2 fans on TMF and I love it. Most of my stories run together in one way or another and this is a good way to distinguish commission and spinoff stories from tales that actually carry continuity. This story is a bit different from the normal Jenni tales that I post. It is written especially for YOU! You are the lee in this new adventure. The ending is split up into two options depending on your gender. I know Jenni wouldn't want anyone to feel left out. So get ready. Because Jenni has set her sights on you. Enjoy!
I remember that day. Do you? Columbia, Missouri? 2011? Ring a bell? Well, I remember it. I remember you.
The day was going nicely. I was visiting a friend who was in college there. Her Spring Break was going to start in two days. I wanted to surprise her, so I drove up a couple of days early. While I don't recall the name of the Motel I stopped at, I still remember the pool area.
It was an indoor pool enclosed in a separate building. I walked over the fake cobblestone to the door in my tight pink one piece and entered the room. The pool was huge considering the Motel wasn't exactly grade-A. But I was more interested in the hot tub in the corner of the room. The steam from the tub was fogging up the window a couple of feet away. I was tempted to buy a soda from one of the two vending machines nearby but couldn't wait any longer to get in the hot tub. I remember the initial burn as I slipped in. I got used to it after a minute or so and I felt my body relax. It felt so good, I could have fallen asleep in there.
That's when you walked in.
“Hey, can I join?” You asked so casually.
“Of course.” I smiled up at you.
For the next 30 minutes, it was just us in there. The windows were cloudy so nobody could see in. The only sound was the water in the tub and the pool swishing calmly swishing about. We made small talk. You told me that you were in town for a friend's wedding that weekend. I told you why I was there as well. No personal details. Just the kind of unique conversation that two people are allowed to have when they don't think they will ever see each other again. I was still a senior in high school. Only 17. I couldn't tell if you were slightly older than me or slightly younger but I didn't care. I couldn't stop looking at you. Maybe it was the warm water or the scintillating scenario, but I wanted you. I wanted to touch you. I wanted my hands all over you.
I remember when I offered to turn the bubbles on. I noticed how you jumped due to the water jet near your ribs. You told me you were ticklish and my nipples stiffened. I had to have you. I had to feel your skin under my fingers.
But then you had to leave. It was so abrupt. A missed opportunity. I would most likely never see you again. I would never admit it to you face to face, but it dampened my mood for the next few days, even when I was with my friend. I still think about that time to this day. And I never imagined our paths would cross again.
Then I see you at the bar tonight! Six years later and you still look exactly the same. I hope I do as well. I hope I am as beautiful as you remember. I see you before you see me. You are all alone. I approach you from behind and stroke the back of your neck. You tense up and turn to see my smile.
“Jenni!”
“Hey, Hon!” I put my arms around you, hugging you so tight that I am worried I might hurt you, but I don't. You buy me a drink, a Tequila and lime, and we start catching up. I tell you about my work as a psychologist. I tell you about Lily and some other people that I have met. I tell you about my clown gigs.
“Are you still ticklish?” I ask at one point, offering a gentle poke in the ribs. The smirk comes and goes from your face and I have my answer. I find myself wanting you again, just like I did those years ago.
After a few drinks, once you have a decent buzz going, I ask if you want to come home with me...
We stumble into the house together. I am not as tipsy as you are, but I am overcome with tickle lust. I must have you. I missed my chance back in the day. I won't miss it again. I ask you if you want to play. You barely give me time to finish asking you before you respond enthusiastically. I think it's time to take you downstairs. I take you down the hall to the back of the house and down into the basement. By the time you walk into my playroom, it's too late. You're mine.
“What is this?” You ponder out loud.
“It's where I play. It's where I tickle.” I tell you, almost purring. I watch you shiver. You know what I mean to do to you. The most astonishing look appears on your face. I can't tell if you are scared or excited. But either way, I'm gonna get you. I tell you to strip. You don't argue. Soon you are completely bare. Nude as a newborn. Open and all for the world to see. But I am the only one who needs to. I eye you like a leopard, ready to pounce. I size you up, guessing tickle spots as my eyes drink in every inch.
I walk you to my tickle chair and strap you in. Your wrists go above your head. Your ankles are strapped 3 feet apart. There is enough padding for you to be comfy but I pull away the section that lies behind your butt, as well as the two small sections behind the backs of your knees. I want total access.
It doesn't take me long to slip into my favorite clown outfit. The one with the pink and blue stripes. I paint my face but I decide against the wig.
“Why are you dressing up?” I hear you ask.
“Because I want to make you laugh.” I respond. “And that's what clowns are for.” I slip on my special, white, velvet gloves and move towards you. I watch you squirm nervously.
“Now, Jen...” You test your bonds almost subconsciously as you speak. “Just... Just be careful... I...”
“Don't worry, Sweetheart. I'll be gentle.” I give you a smile that would be comforting to a child, but threatening to a ticklee.
“That's what I'm afraid of.”
“Well, you are right to be afraid.” I tell you. “You should be terrified. I have quite a reputation around these parts, ya know? At first, I tried to keep my fetish a secret, but over the years, ticklish men and women all over this town have learned to fear my touch.” I run my fingers along the insides of your elbows, toying with you, playing upon your nervousness. “I have tickled males and females. Both for fun and for erotic pleasure. I have tickled young and old. I have tickled people who broke right away and people who held on like they had a gun to their head. Everyone laughs. Everyone cums. It doesn't matter who you are. Once I have you, it will only end one way. That is a promise from me to you. So let's get started.”
I tease the length of your arms, stopping just before your pits. I want to watch the fear grow in you. I am the sweetest girl you will ever meet. But I am also a hunter. A predator. I want to feed off of your embarrassment and your panic. My fingers get so close to your underarms... but then I stop.
I watch you exhale sharply.
The tension is cut.
The relief on your face turns me on. Because I know something you don't know. You think I am having a change of heart. That I won't tickle you after all. Well, I have had a change of heart... about where I will strike!
My fingertips graze the soft flesh of your belly, just beneath your navel. Your tummy tightens.
Ticklish.
I allow my fingers to flutter there for the time being. I watch as your body responds to my touch with all the signs of ticklishness but you try not to give in.
“You know that there is no point in fighting it, right?” I taunt with a whisper. “You're ticklish. And I am going to tickle you whether you laugh or not. Why waste the energy? It's like trying to fight arousal. You can tell yourself whatever you want to but your body will give you away. Tickle tickle...”
I stroke a certain patch of skin and you try to pull away. I smile again. I know just what to do.
“How about a party favor?” I ask as I walk to the counter on your right and pull something out of a drawer. I walk back over and kneel down, facing that spot on your tummy. I show you the object: A party blower. A dollar at most stores. But an effective tool when used right. I am a clown after all. I put my red lips around the mouthpiece and blow.
FOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
The blower flicks out when I blow and the tip reaches that magic spot.
“Ungh!” The sudden and prickly touch on your tickle spot makes you jerk.
FOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
I blow again, but this time I keep blowing and tickle you with the end of the tool.
“Stop!”
“Fine.” I concede. “I won't blow on the whistle anymore, okay?”
“Thank you!”
“I'll blow on your tummy!” I press my face against your belly and blow.
PPPHHHFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBTTT!!!
That brings the first gasp from you before you break down into giggles. You think I'm stopping? Hell no. I blow a continuous raspberry for nearly 30 seconds.
“Im gonna get that tummeeehhh!”
PPPHHHFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBTTT!!!
I reach behind you and wiggle my fingertips behind your knees. Tickle tickle. Your laughter is addictive. I move my mouth to your bellybutton, snaking my tongue inside to lick the knot. There is a loud farting sound as I blow into it with all the air in my lungs.
The begging starts. I love when they beg. It tickles too much and they reach the point where they would sell their own mother to make the tickle stop. My fingers abandon your knees to tickle your sides while I blow on your tummy.
“Excuse you!” I laugh between raspberries. “No more Taco Bell for you!”
PPPHHHFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBTTT!!!
Your begging becomes frantic. Your cheeks turn pink. You laugh. I tickle and tickle for almost 5 minutes before I give you a break.
“Are you happy yet? You certainly look like you are.” I poke the curling corners of your lips as you chuckle quietly. “Hmmm... where should I tickle next?” I wonder as I stroke your underarms casually. You giggle. “I guess that answers my question.” I laugh, treating you to a full barrage of gentle touches in those tender hollows.
You erupt in childish giggles.
“That's right. Laugh for the clown.” I start tickling by drawing spirals inward in each pit. It's important to switch up your patterns and techniques when tickling someone. It's one of the best ways to keep the laughter flowing. Another great way is to joke with your victim. They are laughing. They feel silly. So be silly with them. If you can't, then you're not much of a ler, or a clown. Tickle talk works like a charm in this area.
“Whose a tickly tickly baby? A-gitchy gitchy goo! Tickle tickle tickle!”
Tears are starting to form in your eyes. But I haven't even started yet. Your pits are very sensitive to my touch, but I want more.
“Coochie coochie coo! What a cute grin you have! Are the tickle bugs after ya? Huh? Huh?” My fingers move at the speed of light. At least it feels that way. You laugh and laugh until I grow bored with the pits.
“How about those tootsies?” I sit Indian style in front of your feet. “Do the piggies wanna come out to play? I love playing with piggies!” I gently scratch at the pads of your toes. They wiggle and wiggle as I tickle. I know that ticklish toes, like many other body parts, seem oh so much more ticklish when you tease the lee. More tickle talk.
“I'm coming for the piggies! This little piggy went to market... this little piggy stayed home... Stop trying to kick, you'll hurt your ankles. This little piggy ate roast beef... Mmm that sounds good. I'm hungry now!” I start to nibble at your toes as I get an idea.
“Oh! I bet that would tickle like crazy!” I blurt out as the notion hits me.
“What? What would?” You inquire frantically. I rush back to the counter and pull out a set of chattering teeth that I normally use in my clown shows. I wind it up and move back to your feet, not failing to notice your expression as I let the teeth chatter against your soles.
Mmmm... the delicious laughter...
“Such a response! I will have to use this more often. God, I love my toys! Tickle tickle!”
The begging starts again. My pussy is soaked by now. My nipples are little more than pebbles, hard as concrete as I tickle your naked feet. I can't wait anymore. I need to get you where it hurts. Or... in this case... where it tickles.
THIS SECTION IS FOR FEMALE READERS. MALE READERS, PLEASE SCROLL DOWN.
“Have you ever had your breasts tickled?” I ask. You look as if you don't know what to say. Odds are that you have had those wonderful mounds fondled and massaged. But guys never seem to think about tickling them, do they? Men are silly. But I am a woman. I know how ticklish a pair of full breasts can be. Yours are a wonder to behold. Mine are bigger, but it's not a contest. Breast size doesn't matter to me.
Breast sensitivity does.
I am so happy that I had my nails done yesterday. Nice and sharp. All the better to tickle with. I remove my gloves with a saucy grin. You gasp when they start tapping daintily at the gloriously receptive area where the breasts and ribs meet.
“My my... that doesn't tickle, does it?” I tease, delicately scratching at the area where your bra strap usually rests, playing upon that oh so tender skin. Your nerves are calling out to me, begging me to tickle them. They betray you, because your spirit is strong, but your flesh is weak.
The giggles start as I begin to explore the mammaries like a child realizing what a magnifying glass can do on a sunny day. I press here. I rub there. I stroke around and around. I love boobs. I think almost everyone does. They are the perfect toy. Especially when they are ticklish.
“Do you like to flaunt your boobs around? I do. Hehehe. I love the feeling of men staring. Drooling. They are things of beauty. Especially yours.” It's important to compliment certain spots on your lee from time to time. Make sure that their state of mind is focused on the places where you are tickling them. Makes it harder for them to block it out.
“Look at these nipples!”
I tweak and stroke, wishing I had some baby oil. Oh well, saliva will do, I bend down and lick your nipples, coating them in slick, slippery, natural lube. Then I skate my fingertips over and around the bumps with loving precision. You are so cute when you blush, especially when you can't stop smiling. Tickle tickle.
Mmm... I love the smell of a wet pussy. Am I getting my ticklish girl all hot and bothered? I see you slowly swaying your hips. You wish you could push it up against me, don't you? That you could grind away at my satin costume until you cum.
It won't be that easy.
I reach down behind you and tickle your butt with my nails. Do you feel them trailing and stroking about? I love how ticklish a person's butt can be. Mostly because it's not a place that you would think was ticklish to begin with. I remember one time when I had a girl tied down on her belly on my bed. She wasn't ticklish anywhere else but when I touched her bottom, she screamed so extravagantly that I nearly came right then and there. Your ass is so soft and yet so firm. I play there for a while before showing you a nice, short, stiff... feather.
“Are you ready for Mr. Feather?” I tease, glancing down at your pussy. Your eyes go wide. That's all the answer that I need. I lower the feather and tickle just above the opening, gently passing the tip of the feather across your mound. I adore the “Tee hee hee's” and “heh heh heh's” that follow. You don't mean to giggle, but you can't help it, can you?
I spread your labia with a sure and gentle hand, finding your clitoris. I promised you that you would cum. And I always keep my promises. The feather kisses you. It dances upon the tiny button with all of the vigor of a trained ballerina. Your whole body trembles as you giggle. What's that? You need more tickle talk?
“Coochie coo? Who's a good little girl? Is the little girl gonna shiver for Mr. Feather? Tickle tickle tickle... He's coming for you...”
I plant a single kiss on your taint and you squeal. I feel your body jerk wildly as the orgasm washes over you. I keep tickling. I have waited 6 years for this. I will drag it out as long as I can.
Thatta girl.
I watch as you come back down to Earth, chuckling happily as you still feel phantom tickles in your groin. I smile and hug you, holding you as you recover.
I bet this won't be the last time that we meet.
Will it?
THIS SECTION IS FOR MALE READERS.
You poor boy. You have no idea what I am going to do to you. Do me a favor: Think about your penis. Just for a minute. Do you remember when you had your first orgasm? Was it in front of a magazine picture or a computer screen? How fast did it get hard back then? I bet it didn't take much. I bet you had to regularly hide your boners from classmates and family alike. Do you remember the first one? The first time it got hard because of a girl? Were you scared? Are you scared now?
Cause I am coming for him.
I draw a finger down the flaccid penis, along the upper side of it. It twitches, much to my amusement. I unbutton the first three buttons over my chest to allow for some of my bountiful cleavage to show. I look up at you. You look down at my boobs. Was it a pair of breasts that caused your first erection? Because they are causing this one. I watch your penis rise and thicken. I lick my lips. I rub my chest. I let you watch. Soon it's aimed right at my nose.
Men are so easy.
I lightly tickle the sides of your penis. Certain spots cause it to twitch and jump. Tickle tickle. It wouldn't be so ticklish if it wasn't hard, ya know. In a way, the sight of my womanly figure made you ticklish. I love it.
“Gitchy goo...” I whisper as I tickle near the base of the penis. Can't hold in the giggles anymore, can ya, Mister? Tickle tickle.
I wish I had a camera to take a picture of your face right now. You look like a boy in church who just remembered a funny joke but can't laugh or his mom will get angry. It's the most adorable face that a guy can make, and one I have caused many times before.
You feel the tip of my tongue gently lick the underside of your balls.
Wow! That was a pretty girlish sound coming from a grown man. What if I tickle them? Will you be able to take it?
A finger wiggles between your butt cheeks to tickle your anus. Your penis bobs and spasms as a result.
Cute.
“Tickle tickle...” I sing innocently as my pinky traces the seam of your scrotum. Your face could pass for a fire hydrant right now. Don't worry, little boy. This will stay between us. Like a loving mother, I will keep your secrets safe.
But until then...
Tickletickletickletickletickletickle!” My fingertips make short work or your balls. Each soft caress brings unbearable tickles. Oooo! Right here on the sides works magic! Your penis bobs about until I catch it... in my mouth.
Tickle tickle, balls.
Tickle tickle, Booty hole.
Come to Jenni. Let me taste you.
“Hehehe's” turn to loud moans and trembling as I gobble up your cum. I have waited 6 years for this. I will drag it out as long as I can.
Thatta boy.
I watch as you come back down to Earth, chuckling happily as you still feel phantom tickles in your groin. I smile and hug you, holding you as you recover.
I bet this won't be the last time that we meet.
Will it?
I remember that day. Do you? Columbia, Missouri? 2011? Ring a bell? Well, I remember it. I remember you.
The day was going nicely. I was visiting a friend who was in college there. Her Spring Break was going to start in two days. I wanted to surprise her, so I drove up a couple of days early. While I don't recall the name of the Motel I stopped at, I still remember the pool area.
It was an indoor pool enclosed in a separate building. I walked over the fake cobblestone to the door in my tight pink one piece and entered the room. The pool was huge considering the Motel wasn't exactly grade-A. But I was more interested in the hot tub in the corner of the room. The steam from the tub was fogging up the window a couple of feet away. I was tempted to buy a soda from one of the two vending machines nearby but couldn't wait any longer to get in the hot tub. I remember the initial burn as I slipped in. I got used to it after a minute or so and I felt my body relax. It felt so good, I could have fallen asleep in there.
That's when you walked in.
“Hey, can I join?” You asked so casually.
“Of course.” I smiled up at you.
For the next 30 minutes, it was just us in there. The windows were cloudy so nobody could see in. The only sound was the water in the tub and the pool swishing calmly swishing about. We made small talk. You told me that you were in town for a friend's wedding that weekend. I told you why I was there as well. No personal details. Just the kind of unique conversation that two people are allowed to have when they don't think they will ever see each other again. I was still a senior in high school. Only 17. I couldn't tell if you were slightly older than me or slightly younger but I didn't care. I couldn't stop looking at you. Maybe it was the warm water or the scintillating scenario, but I wanted you. I wanted to touch you. I wanted my hands all over you.
I remember when I offered to turn the bubbles on. I noticed how you jumped due to the water jet near your ribs. You told me you were ticklish and my nipples stiffened. I had to have you. I had to feel your skin under my fingers.
But then you had to leave. It was so abrupt. A missed opportunity. I would most likely never see you again. I would never admit it to you face to face, but it dampened my mood for the next few days, even when I was with my friend. I still think about that time to this day. And I never imagined our paths would cross again.
Then I see you at the bar tonight! Six years later and you still look exactly the same. I hope I do as well. I hope I am as beautiful as you remember. I see you before you see me. You are all alone. I approach you from behind and stroke the back of your neck. You tense up and turn to see my smile.
“Jenni!”
“Hey, Hon!” I put my arms around you, hugging you so tight that I am worried I might hurt you, but I don't. You buy me a drink, a Tequila and lime, and we start catching up. I tell you about my work as a psychologist. I tell you about Lily and some other people that I have met. I tell you about my clown gigs.
“Are you still ticklish?” I ask at one point, offering a gentle poke in the ribs. The smirk comes and goes from your face and I have my answer. I find myself wanting you again, just like I did those years ago.
After a few drinks, once you have a decent buzz going, I ask if you want to come home with me...
We stumble into the house together. I am not as tipsy as you are, but I am overcome with tickle lust. I must have you. I missed my chance back in the day. I won't miss it again. I ask you if you want to play. You barely give me time to finish asking you before you respond enthusiastically. I think it's time to take you downstairs. I take you down the hall to the back of the house and down into the basement. By the time you walk into my playroom, it's too late. You're mine.
“What is this?” You ponder out loud.
“It's where I play. It's where I tickle.” I tell you, almost purring. I watch you shiver. You know what I mean to do to you. The most astonishing look appears on your face. I can't tell if you are scared or excited. But either way, I'm gonna get you. I tell you to strip. You don't argue. Soon you are completely bare. Nude as a newborn. Open and all for the world to see. But I am the only one who needs to. I eye you like a leopard, ready to pounce. I size you up, guessing tickle spots as my eyes drink in every inch.
I walk you to my tickle chair and strap you in. Your wrists go above your head. Your ankles are strapped 3 feet apart. There is enough padding for you to be comfy but I pull away the section that lies behind your butt, as well as the two small sections behind the backs of your knees. I want total access.
It doesn't take me long to slip into my favorite clown outfit. The one with the pink and blue stripes. I paint my face but I decide against the wig.
“Why are you dressing up?” I hear you ask.
“Because I want to make you laugh.” I respond. “And that's what clowns are for.” I slip on my special, white, velvet gloves and move towards you. I watch you squirm nervously.
“Now, Jen...” You test your bonds almost subconsciously as you speak. “Just... Just be careful... I...”
“Don't worry, Sweetheart. I'll be gentle.” I give you a smile that would be comforting to a child, but threatening to a ticklee.
“That's what I'm afraid of.”
“Well, you are right to be afraid.” I tell you. “You should be terrified. I have quite a reputation around these parts, ya know? At first, I tried to keep my fetish a secret, but over the years, ticklish men and women all over this town have learned to fear my touch.” I run my fingers along the insides of your elbows, toying with you, playing upon your nervousness. “I have tickled males and females. Both for fun and for erotic pleasure. I have tickled young and old. I have tickled people who broke right away and people who held on like they had a gun to their head. Everyone laughs. Everyone cums. It doesn't matter who you are. Once I have you, it will only end one way. That is a promise from me to you. So let's get started.”
I tease the length of your arms, stopping just before your pits. I want to watch the fear grow in you. I am the sweetest girl you will ever meet. But I am also a hunter. A predator. I want to feed off of your embarrassment and your panic. My fingers get so close to your underarms... but then I stop.
I watch you exhale sharply.
The tension is cut.
The relief on your face turns me on. Because I know something you don't know. You think I am having a change of heart. That I won't tickle you after all. Well, I have had a change of heart... about where I will strike!
My fingertips graze the soft flesh of your belly, just beneath your navel. Your tummy tightens.
Ticklish.
I allow my fingers to flutter there for the time being. I watch as your body responds to my touch with all the signs of ticklishness but you try not to give in.
“You know that there is no point in fighting it, right?” I taunt with a whisper. “You're ticklish. And I am going to tickle you whether you laugh or not. Why waste the energy? It's like trying to fight arousal. You can tell yourself whatever you want to but your body will give you away. Tickle tickle...”
I stroke a certain patch of skin and you try to pull away. I smile again. I know just what to do.
“How about a party favor?” I ask as I walk to the counter on your right and pull something out of a drawer. I walk back over and kneel down, facing that spot on your tummy. I show you the object: A party blower. A dollar at most stores. But an effective tool when used right. I am a clown after all. I put my red lips around the mouthpiece and blow.
FOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
The blower flicks out when I blow and the tip reaches that magic spot.
“Ungh!” The sudden and prickly touch on your tickle spot makes you jerk.
FOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
I blow again, but this time I keep blowing and tickle you with the end of the tool.
“Stop!”
“Fine.” I concede. “I won't blow on the whistle anymore, okay?”
“Thank you!”
“I'll blow on your tummy!” I press my face against your belly and blow.
PPPHHHFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBTTT!!!
That brings the first gasp from you before you break down into giggles. You think I'm stopping? Hell no. I blow a continuous raspberry for nearly 30 seconds.
“Im gonna get that tummeeehhh!”
PPPHHHFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBTTT!!!
I reach behind you and wiggle my fingertips behind your knees. Tickle tickle. Your laughter is addictive. I move my mouth to your bellybutton, snaking my tongue inside to lick the knot. There is a loud farting sound as I blow into it with all the air in my lungs.
The begging starts. I love when they beg. It tickles too much and they reach the point where they would sell their own mother to make the tickle stop. My fingers abandon your knees to tickle your sides while I blow on your tummy.
“Excuse you!” I laugh between raspberries. “No more Taco Bell for you!”
PPPHHHFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBBTTT!!!
Your begging becomes frantic. Your cheeks turn pink. You laugh. I tickle and tickle for almost 5 minutes before I give you a break.
“Are you happy yet? You certainly look like you are.” I poke the curling corners of your lips as you chuckle quietly. “Hmmm... where should I tickle next?” I wonder as I stroke your underarms casually. You giggle. “I guess that answers my question.” I laugh, treating you to a full barrage of gentle touches in those tender hollows.
You erupt in childish giggles.
“That's right. Laugh for the clown.” I start tickling by drawing spirals inward in each pit. It's important to switch up your patterns and techniques when tickling someone. It's one of the best ways to keep the laughter flowing. Another great way is to joke with your victim. They are laughing. They feel silly. So be silly with them. If you can't, then you're not much of a ler, or a clown. Tickle talk works like a charm in this area.
“Whose a tickly tickly baby? A-gitchy gitchy goo! Tickle tickle tickle!”
Tears are starting to form in your eyes. But I haven't even started yet. Your pits are very sensitive to my touch, but I want more.
“Coochie coochie coo! What a cute grin you have! Are the tickle bugs after ya? Huh? Huh?” My fingers move at the speed of light. At least it feels that way. You laugh and laugh until I grow bored with the pits.
“How about those tootsies?” I sit Indian style in front of your feet. “Do the piggies wanna come out to play? I love playing with piggies!” I gently scratch at the pads of your toes. They wiggle and wiggle as I tickle. I know that ticklish toes, like many other body parts, seem oh so much more ticklish when you tease the lee. More tickle talk.
“I'm coming for the piggies! This little piggy went to market... this little piggy stayed home... Stop trying to kick, you'll hurt your ankles. This little piggy ate roast beef... Mmm that sounds good. I'm hungry now!” I start to nibble at your toes as I get an idea.
“Oh! I bet that would tickle like crazy!” I blurt out as the notion hits me.
“What? What would?” You inquire frantically. I rush back to the counter and pull out a set of chattering teeth that I normally use in my clown shows. I wind it up and move back to your feet, not failing to notice your expression as I let the teeth chatter against your soles.
Mmmm... the delicious laughter...
“Such a response! I will have to use this more often. God, I love my toys! Tickle tickle!”
The begging starts again. My pussy is soaked by now. My nipples are little more than pebbles, hard as concrete as I tickle your naked feet. I can't wait anymore. I need to get you where it hurts. Or... in this case... where it tickles.
THIS SECTION IS FOR FEMALE READERS. MALE READERS, PLEASE SCROLL DOWN.
“Have you ever had your breasts tickled?” I ask. You look as if you don't know what to say. Odds are that you have had those wonderful mounds fondled and massaged. But guys never seem to think about tickling them, do they? Men are silly. But I am a woman. I know how ticklish a pair of full breasts can be. Yours are a wonder to behold. Mine are bigger, but it's not a contest. Breast size doesn't matter to me.
Breast sensitivity does.
I am so happy that I had my nails done yesterday. Nice and sharp. All the better to tickle with. I remove my gloves with a saucy grin. You gasp when they start tapping daintily at the gloriously receptive area where the breasts and ribs meet.
“My my... that doesn't tickle, does it?” I tease, delicately scratching at the area where your bra strap usually rests, playing upon that oh so tender skin. Your nerves are calling out to me, begging me to tickle them. They betray you, because your spirit is strong, but your flesh is weak.
The giggles start as I begin to explore the mammaries like a child realizing what a magnifying glass can do on a sunny day. I press here. I rub there. I stroke around and around. I love boobs. I think almost everyone does. They are the perfect toy. Especially when they are ticklish.
“Do you like to flaunt your boobs around? I do. Hehehe. I love the feeling of men staring. Drooling. They are things of beauty. Especially yours.” It's important to compliment certain spots on your lee from time to time. Make sure that their state of mind is focused on the places where you are tickling them. Makes it harder for them to block it out.
“Look at these nipples!”
I tweak and stroke, wishing I had some baby oil. Oh well, saliva will do, I bend down and lick your nipples, coating them in slick, slippery, natural lube. Then I skate my fingertips over and around the bumps with loving precision. You are so cute when you blush, especially when you can't stop smiling. Tickle tickle.
Mmm... I love the smell of a wet pussy. Am I getting my ticklish girl all hot and bothered? I see you slowly swaying your hips. You wish you could push it up against me, don't you? That you could grind away at my satin costume until you cum.
It won't be that easy.
I reach down behind you and tickle your butt with my nails. Do you feel them trailing and stroking about? I love how ticklish a person's butt can be. Mostly because it's not a place that you would think was ticklish to begin with. I remember one time when I had a girl tied down on her belly on my bed. She wasn't ticklish anywhere else but when I touched her bottom, she screamed so extravagantly that I nearly came right then and there. Your ass is so soft and yet so firm. I play there for a while before showing you a nice, short, stiff... feather.
“Are you ready for Mr. Feather?” I tease, glancing down at your pussy. Your eyes go wide. That's all the answer that I need. I lower the feather and tickle just above the opening, gently passing the tip of the feather across your mound. I adore the “Tee hee hee's” and “heh heh heh's” that follow. You don't mean to giggle, but you can't help it, can you?
I spread your labia with a sure and gentle hand, finding your clitoris. I promised you that you would cum. And I always keep my promises. The feather kisses you. It dances upon the tiny button with all of the vigor of a trained ballerina. Your whole body trembles as you giggle. What's that? You need more tickle talk?
“Coochie coo? Who's a good little girl? Is the little girl gonna shiver for Mr. Feather? Tickle tickle tickle... He's coming for you...”
I plant a single kiss on your taint and you squeal. I feel your body jerk wildly as the orgasm washes over you. I keep tickling. I have waited 6 years for this. I will drag it out as long as I can.
Thatta girl.
I watch as you come back down to Earth, chuckling happily as you still feel phantom tickles in your groin. I smile and hug you, holding you as you recover.
I bet this won't be the last time that we meet.
Will it?
THIS SECTION IS FOR MALE READERS.
You poor boy. You have no idea what I am going to do to you. Do me a favor: Think about your penis. Just for a minute. Do you remember when you had your first orgasm? Was it in front of a magazine picture or a computer screen? How fast did it get hard back then? I bet it didn't take much. I bet you had to regularly hide your boners from classmates and family alike. Do you remember the first one? The first time it got hard because of a girl? Were you scared? Are you scared now?
Cause I am coming for him.
I draw a finger down the flaccid penis, along the upper side of it. It twitches, much to my amusement. I unbutton the first three buttons over my chest to allow for some of my bountiful cleavage to show. I look up at you. You look down at my boobs. Was it a pair of breasts that caused your first erection? Because they are causing this one. I watch your penis rise and thicken. I lick my lips. I rub my chest. I let you watch. Soon it's aimed right at my nose.
Men are so easy.
I lightly tickle the sides of your penis. Certain spots cause it to twitch and jump. Tickle tickle. It wouldn't be so ticklish if it wasn't hard, ya know. In a way, the sight of my womanly figure made you ticklish. I love it.
“Gitchy goo...” I whisper as I tickle near the base of the penis. Can't hold in the giggles anymore, can ya, Mister? Tickle tickle.
I wish I had a camera to take a picture of your face right now. You look like a boy in church who just remembered a funny joke but can't laugh or his mom will get angry. It's the most adorable face that a guy can make, and one I have caused many times before.
You feel the tip of my tongue gently lick the underside of your balls.
Wow! That was a pretty girlish sound coming from a grown man. What if I tickle them? Will you be able to take it?
A finger wiggles between your butt cheeks to tickle your anus. Your penis bobs and spasms as a result.
Cute.
“Tickle tickle...” I sing innocently as my pinky traces the seam of your scrotum. Your face could pass for a fire hydrant right now. Don't worry, little boy. This will stay between us. Like a loving mother, I will keep your secrets safe.
But until then...
Tickletickletickletickletickletickle!” My fingertips make short work or your balls. Each soft caress brings unbearable tickles. Oooo! Right here on the sides works magic! Your penis bobs about until I catch it... in my mouth.
Tickle tickle, balls.
Tickle tickle, Booty hole.
Come to Jenni. Let me taste you.
“Hehehe's” turn to loud moans and trembling as I gobble up your cum. I have waited 6 years for this. I will drag it out as long as I can.
Thatta boy.
I watch as you come back down to Earth, chuckling happily as you still feel phantom tickles in your groin. I smile and hug you, holding you as you recover.
I bet this won't be the last time that we meet.
Will it?
