Can you remember the first time you realized tickling was more than child's play? I was tickled a lot as a boy, and in turn I tickled smaller kids. But during a bus ride back from my 8th grade class trip to a dude ranch, my tickling life stepped out of childhood and into young adulthood.
Seated in the aisle seat in front of me on the bus was a tall, attractive blonde classmate named Karen. She was wearing a midriff-type shirt, which exposed her midsection. Karen started stretching, arms straight up, revealing even more of her lovely fair skin. The bus had those bucket seats and I was in the window seat behind Karen. So I had a good angle to get her. Sure enough, as Karen stretched, I reached between the seats and tickled her bare side. To this day, I remember how Karen yelped, "Oh!," in ticklish reaction and pulled her arms to her sides!
At first Karen thought Jon, the kid next to me, had tickled her. Oddly, when he denied it, she did not confront me.
A little while later Karen stretched once more and sure enough my hand zipped between those seats again! "Oh!"
This kid Joe, a buddy of mine on the aisle seat across from Jon and me, saw what I was doing. He wanted in on the action. Joe whispered and motioned to me to keep our eyes peeled for the next chance to tickle Karen. Sure enough, a short while later Karen lifted her arms. Joe reached across the aisle and tickled her left side while I tickled her right side! "Oh!"
If at first Karen enjoyed the attention, by now she had enough. She sat with her arms folded around her waist for the rest of the bus ride! I was waiting for her to say something but she never did, even though we were in the same 8th grade class.
But Karen had served her purpose, stirring my newfound passion for tickling girls. I imagine she is married by now and I hope her husband does not let that ticklishness go to waste.
Later that summer I pinned down and tickled my cute 11-year old (remember, I was only 13) neighbor Elaine in my yard. I think the whole neighborhood heard her laughing, getting me to stop by saying, "If you don't stop it I'm going to wet my pants!"
So I stopped tickling Elaine who got up, red-faced, panting and tickle-dazed. "You like to tickle," she said.
Never would anyone have a more accurate description of me.
Seated in the aisle seat in front of me on the bus was a tall, attractive blonde classmate named Karen. She was wearing a midriff-type shirt, which exposed her midsection. Karen started stretching, arms straight up, revealing even more of her lovely fair skin. The bus had those bucket seats and I was in the window seat behind Karen. So I had a good angle to get her. Sure enough, as Karen stretched, I reached between the seats and tickled her bare side. To this day, I remember how Karen yelped, "Oh!," in ticklish reaction and pulled her arms to her sides!
At first Karen thought Jon, the kid next to me, had tickled her. Oddly, when he denied it, she did not confront me.
A little while later Karen stretched once more and sure enough my hand zipped between those seats again! "Oh!"
This kid Joe, a buddy of mine on the aisle seat across from Jon and me, saw what I was doing. He wanted in on the action. Joe whispered and motioned to me to keep our eyes peeled for the next chance to tickle Karen. Sure enough, a short while later Karen lifted her arms. Joe reached across the aisle and tickled her left side while I tickled her right side! "Oh!"
If at first Karen enjoyed the attention, by now she had enough. She sat with her arms folded around her waist for the rest of the bus ride! I was waiting for her to say something but she never did, even though we were in the same 8th grade class.
But Karen had served her purpose, stirring my newfound passion for tickling girls. I imagine she is married by now and I hope her husband does not let that ticklishness go to waste.
Later that summer I pinned down and tickled my cute 11-year old (remember, I was only 13) neighbor Elaine in my yard. I think the whole neighborhood heard her laughing, getting me to stop by saying, "If you don't stop it I'm going to wet my pants!"
So I stopped tickling Elaine who got up, red-faced, panting and tickle-dazed. "You like to tickle," she said.
Never would anyone have a more accurate description of me.
