Knox The Hatter
2nd Level Indigo Feather
- Joined
- Feb 11, 2003
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LAUGHTER BY THE LAKE
Copyright 2003 Christopher Khoury. All Rights Reserved.
*
They were big girls, that was for sure.
For starters, there was Mindy. Mindy had a bob of blonde hair that topped out her six foot one frame, a frame that was one of mass and strength, it seemed, and it just looked more massive in the faint light. Her voice was dark, and to Michael, very sexy. Mindy was older than the other counselors were; she was already divorced, and looking for a change in the course of her life. Her shy countenance was broken, like the ice on top of a frozen lake, by the four or five wine coolers she had just consumed.
The other girl, Iona, was ordinarily the more outgoing of the two. She was five-seven, a bit stocky, and had long, curly amber hair. She hadn’t had as many wine coolers as Mindy, but she was clearly taken with the spirit of the evening. Her voice was higher, more cheery than Mindy’s as well. “You know,” she said, wiping her lips, “you never know what could come up from the water and try to eat us.”
“Eat us?” Mindy replied.
“Yeah, eat us. Some kind of sea monster.”
It wasn’t a sea, of any kind; rather, it was the camp lake. No monsters either, just trout, trout purchased and paid for by the camp, released into the habitat in the early spring. The three sat lakeside, by the light of a three-quarter moon, on an old army blanket. It was approximately three thirty on a Sunday morning.
“There are no sea monsters in this lake,” said Michael, a junior at the University of Pennsylvania, substantially smaller than the two females parked on either side of him. “I know I’ve never seen one.”
“How do you know you’ve never seen one?”
“Because, Mindy, I believe my eyes.”
“And, because you’re a prisoner of Reason and all that it dictates…”
“How’d ya guess?”
“I like Michael,” Iona said, rubbing her hands on his own head of thick, curly hair. “He’s always so serious!”
“Yeah, he is,” muttered Mindy, opening up a sixth cooler. “Too fucking serious, if you ask me.”
“Of course, there’s a remedy for seriousness, and if Michael keeps being too serious, we’re gonna have to resort to that remedy.”
Michael turned to Iona, returning the hair rub that he had just received, and replied, “remedy? What remedy? What are you jabbering about now?”
“Didn’t you know? There are remedies for all ills that ail us.”
Michael smelled the alcohol on both girls. It was getting late; he was getting bored, and he had to have his bunk of seven year olds up at eight o’clock for breakfast and church. “Remedies,” uttered Michael, with a sigh.
“Well,” Mindy added, “someone said there were water moccasins around here, but I don’t know if I believe that or not.”
“Michael should go and check for us.”
“Um, I don’t think so. Too dark and I don’t have any lights and I don’t think there are any around here.”
“Lights or water mocs?”
“Either, Fiona. Iona. Whatever your name is.”
Mindy laughed uproariously at this. Iona sharply pinched Michael’s arm.
“Hey!”
Iona laughed as well, but an idea in her head stopped the laughter short.
“What are you thinking about?” Mindy asked.
“Remedies, remedies…”
“What’s this with remedies,” Michael asked in exasperation.
With that, Iona reached over, and gently shoved a wiggling index finger in Michael’s underarm, making him jump vertically, giggling, “don’t, stop.”
“Don’t stop, he says!” Iona was exuberant.
“Michael’s ticklish, huh?”
“I meant, stop, don’t-“
“No, you meant don’t stop, Michael.” Iona embraced Michael with both arms, and dug her fingers into his sides. “This is what you really meant!”
Michael tried to say something in reply, but the gales of high pitched, projectile laughter escaping his throat prevented him from doing so. With force, he escaped Iona’s grasp, and gasped for air.
“I think we’ve found our remedy for Michael’s seriousness, Min.”
Michael looked at the two girls flanking him in the faint moonlight, and figured that this would be a good enough time to leave. He tried to get up on his feet, but a very agile Mindy brought him down to earth again with her very strong arms.
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, pal,” she exclaimed drunkenly.
“Please,” Michael begged, “don’t tickle me…”
“See, Min! Now he’s not so serious anymore.”
Mindy reached in, and tickled Michael’s quivering abdomen with her long, nimble fingers. His loud laugh prompted Iona to close Michael’s mouth with the palm of her hand.
“What if someone hears us,” she pointed out.
Mindy cleared her throat. Putting a wet finger in the air, she felt a stiff breeze blowing away from the camp. “Not too likely, everyone’s asleep. No one could hear him laughing back there with the wind blowing this way.”
Iona wasn’t too sure of this scientific explanation, but then… “who the hell cares anyway?”
Iona pinned down Michael’s torso, while Mindy pinned his legs, and lifted his shirt up to his underarms. Deftly, Mindy danced all ten of her slender fingers up and down Michael’s flanks, causing him to buck and jerk wildly, and laugh in his inimitable high pitched whinny uncontrollably.
“I’m telling you, this boy is ticklish!” Mindy barked with surprise.
“I always knew he was,” Iona said. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time!”
With gusto, Iona reached behind Michael’s legs, and tickled in a wide sweep behind his thighs. His wearing shorts made this an easy task. “Watch him,” Mindy warned, “he’s gonna kick!”
Iona held him down, and dug all of her fingers into the deep flesh behind the thighs. Michael’s laughter became labored, and fierce, and his body bucked and jerked violently. The girls couldn’t see it very well, but tears were falling down his face.
“Give him a break, Eye.”
“Should I?”
“Yeah, he’s gotta take a breath.”
They continued to hold Michael, while he hyperventilated. “I’ve been remedied enough,” he said, but not unhappily. “Please, not the thighs, don’t go there, I can’t take the thighs…”
“Don’t you understand, Michael?” Iona reached her finger into those nether regions again. “That’s why we have to go there again…”
“No!” This time, her fingers were far more gentle…gentle scrapes and flourishes that made his laughter rich and throaty and the sensations that more enthralling. Mindy took advantage of this situation to get her fingers back into the place where it all began, the underarms. By this time, Michael was pinned down on his stomach, helplessly prostrate before the onslaught of twenty roaming fingers, all exploring the places where he was excruciatingly sensitive.
“Hey, is this fun or what?” Iona asked.
“Yep!”
“I’ve been waiting to tickle Michael forever, since day one, I just knew he would be this ticklish.”
“You like tickling people?”
“I love tickling boys, I’ve loved it all my life. Wait, wait! The feet, the feet, we have to get his feet.”
“God, no,” Mindy said, “I hate touching people’s feet.”
“No!” Michael screamed.
“Here, you pin down his torso, these legs are mine.” Iona pinned Michael’s legs, and with some effort, removed Michael’s sneakers. “Right now, Michael will lose every last ounce of seriousness in his body!”
“Not my feet,” Michael grunted. “Go back to my thighs!”
“Sorry, Michael,” said Iona, with a gleeful smile. “I’ve been waiting to get you, and now you’re mine!”
She then took all ten of her fingers, and dug them softly and slowly into the skin between his toes. With no effort at all, the laughter escaped his throat with great power. “I think I’ve hit a good spot here.”
“Sure looks that way,” giggled Mindy.
“Actually, it’s my favorite spot.”
“Why feet?” Mindy asked, through the side-splitting laughter.
“I don’t know, I just get a kick out of making the toes wriggle, I guess.” The fingers danced up and down Michael’s soles. He tried getting out of the physical press upon his body, but was having no success.
The laugh emanating from Michael’s throat was a continuous high-pitched whinny, punctuated by shouts and cry of “no” and “stop”. “Heeeeeeeeeeeeehehehhehhehehehheheheheehhehehehhee” he cried, his laughter piercing the bracing night breeze.
“Look, it’s getting late, Eye. Gotta get the kids up at eight.”
“I guess we all do. I just don’t feel like going back yet.”
Mindy made her goodbyes, and started heading back towards the bunks. Michael, by now, was a quivering mass of jello, with no strength to resist anymore. After a few more finger dances on his feet, Iona turned around to stare dreamily into Michael’s eyes. However, her eyes never made it there. It settled on something else, something that was clearly visible in the moonlight. It was the excitement Michael felt, made readily apparent for all to witness.
With a smile, Iona softly reached down, and massaged the suddenly swollen area, thus producing a slight gasp and a look of embarrassment on Michael’s face.
“Shhhh”, she whispered, her index finger backed against her smiling lips, as she gently pulled down Michael’s zipper.
Copyright 2003 Christopher Khoury. All Rights Reserved.
*
They were big girls, that was for sure.
For starters, there was Mindy. Mindy had a bob of blonde hair that topped out her six foot one frame, a frame that was one of mass and strength, it seemed, and it just looked more massive in the faint light. Her voice was dark, and to Michael, very sexy. Mindy was older than the other counselors were; she was already divorced, and looking for a change in the course of her life. Her shy countenance was broken, like the ice on top of a frozen lake, by the four or five wine coolers she had just consumed.
The other girl, Iona, was ordinarily the more outgoing of the two. She was five-seven, a bit stocky, and had long, curly amber hair. She hadn’t had as many wine coolers as Mindy, but she was clearly taken with the spirit of the evening. Her voice was higher, more cheery than Mindy’s as well. “You know,” she said, wiping her lips, “you never know what could come up from the water and try to eat us.”
“Eat us?” Mindy replied.
“Yeah, eat us. Some kind of sea monster.”
It wasn’t a sea, of any kind; rather, it was the camp lake. No monsters either, just trout, trout purchased and paid for by the camp, released into the habitat in the early spring. The three sat lakeside, by the light of a three-quarter moon, on an old army blanket. It was approximately three thirty on a Sunday morning.
“There are no sea monsters in this lake,” said Michael, a junior at the University of Pennsylvania, substantially smaller than the two females parked on either side of him. “I know I’ve never seen one.”
“How do you know you’ve never seen one?”
“Because, Mindy, I believe my eyes.”
“And, because you’re a prisoner of Reason and all that it dictates…”
“How’d ya guess?”
“I like Michael,” Iona said, rubbing her hands on his own head of thick, curly hair. “He’s always so serious!”
“Yeah, he is,” muttered Mindy, opening up a sixth cooler. “Too fucking serious, if you ask me.”
“Of course, there’s a remedy for seriousness, and if Michael keeps being too serious, we’re gonna have to resort to that remedy.”
Michael turned to Iona, returning the hair rub that he had just received, and replied, “remedy? What remedy? What are you jabbering about now?”
“Didn’t you know? There are remedies for all ills that ail us.”
Michael smelled the alcohol on both girls. It was getting late; he was getting bored, and he had to have his bunk of seven year olds up at eight o’clock for breakfast and church. “Remedies,” uttered Michael, with a sigh.
“Well,” Mindy added, “someone said there were water moccasins around here, but I don’t know if I believe that or not.”
“Michael should go and check for us.”
“Um, I don’t think so. Too dark and I don’t have any lights and I don’t think there are any around here.”
“Lights or water mocs?”
“Either, Fiona. Iona. Whatever your name is.”
Mindy laughed uproariously at this. Iona sharply pinched Michael’s arm.
“Hey!”
Iona laughed as well, but an idea in her head stopped the laughter short.
“What are you thinking about?” Mindy asked.
“Remedies, remedies…”
“What’s this with remedies,” Michael asked in exasperation.
With that, Iona reached over, and gently shoved a wiggling index finger in Michael’s underarm, making him jump vertically, giggling, “don’t, stop.”
“Don’t stop, he says!” Iona was exuberant.
“Michael’s ticklish, huh?”
“I meant, stop, don’t-“
“No, you meant don’t stop, Michael.” Iona embraced Michael with both arms, and dug her fingers into his sides. “This is what you really meant!”
Michael tried to say something in reply, but the gales of high pitched, projectile laughter escaping his throat prevented him from doing so. With force, he escaped Iona’s grasp, and gasped for air.
“I think we’ve found our remedy for Michael’s seriousness, Min.”
Michael looked at the two girls flanking him in the faint moonlight, and figured that this would be a good enough time to leave. He tried to get up on his feet, but a very agile Mindy brought him down to earth again with her very strong arms.
“You ain’t goin’ nowhere, pal,” she exclaimed drunkenly.
“Please,” Michael begged, “don’t tickle me…”
“See, Min! Now he’s not so serious anymore.”
Mindy reached in, and tickled Michael’s quivering abdomen with her long, nimble fingers. His loud laugh prompted Iona to close Michael’s mouth with the palm of her hand.
“What if someone hears us,” she pointed out.
Mindy cleared her throat. Putting a wet finger in the air, she felt a stiff breeze blowing away from the camp. “Not too likely, everyone’s asleep. No one could hear him laughing back there with the wind blowing this way.”
Iona wasn’t too sure of this scientific explanation, but then… “who the hell cares anyway?”
Iona pinned down Michael’s torso, while Mindy pinned his legs, and lifted his shirt up to his underarms. Deftly, Mindy danced all ten of her slender fingers up and down Michael’s flanks, causing him to buck and jerk wildly, and laugh in his inimitable high pitched whinny uncontrollably.
“I’m telling you, this boy is ticklish!” Mindy barked with surprise.
“I always knew he was,” Iona said. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time!”
With gusto, Iona reached behind Michael’s legs, and tickled in a wide sweep behind his thighs. His wearing shorts made this an easy task. “Watch him,” Mindy warned, “he’s gonna kick!”
Iona held him down, and dug all of her fingers into the deep flesh behind the thighs. Michael’s laughter became labored, and fierce, and his body bucked and jerked violently. The girls couldn’t see it very well, but tears were falling down his face.
“Give him a break, Eye.”
“Should I?”
“Yeah, he’s gotta take a breath.”
They continued to hold Michael, while he hyperventilated. “I’ve been remedied enough,” he said, but not unhappily. “Please, not the thighs, don’t go there, I can’t take the thighs…”
“Don’t you understand, Michael?” Iona reached her finger into those nether regions again. “That’s why we have to go there again…”
“No!” This time, her fingers were far more gentle…gentle scrapes and flourishes that made his laughter rich and throaty and the sensations that more enthralling. Mindy took advantage of this situation to get her fingers back into the place where it all began, the underarms. By this time, Michael was pinned down on his stomach, helplessly prostrate before the onslaught of twenty roaming fingers, all exploring the places where he was excruciatingly sensitive.
“Hey, is this fun or what?” Iona asked.
“Yep!”
“I’ve been waiting to tickle Michael forever, since day one, I just knew he would be this ticklish.”
“You like tickling people?”
“I love tickling boys, I’ve loved it all my life. Wait, wait! The feet, the feet, we have to get his feet.”
“God, no,” Mindy said, “I hate touching people’s feet.”
“No!” Michael screamed.
“Here, you pin down his torso, these legs are mine.” Iona pinned Michael’s legs, and with some effort, removed Michael’s sneakers. “Right now, Michael will lose every last ounce of seriousness in his body!”
“Not my feet,” Michael grunted. “Go back to my thighs!”
“Sorry, Michael,” said Iona, with a gleeful smile. “I’ve been waiting to get you, and now you’re mine!”
She then took all ten of her fingers, and dug them softly and slowly into the skin between his toes. With no effort at all, the laughter escaped his throat with great power. “I think I’ve hit a good spot here.”
“Sure looks that way,” giggled Mindy.
“Actually, it’s my favorite spot.”
“Why feet?” Mindy asked, through the side-splitting laughter.
“I don’t know, I just get a kick out of making the toes wriggle, I guess.” The fingers danced up and down Michael’s soles. He tried getting out of the physical press upon his body, but was having no success.
The laugh emanating from Michael’s throat was a continuous high-pitched whinny, punctuated by shouts and cry of “no” and “stop”. “Heeeeeeeeeeeeehehehhehhehehehheheheheehhehehehhee” he cried, his laughter piercing the bracing night breeze.
“Look, it’s getting late, Eye. Gotta get the kids up at eight.”
“I guess we all do. I just don’t feel like going back yet.”
Mindy made her goodbyes, and started heading back towards the bunks. Michael, by now, was a quivering mass of jello, with no strength to resist anymore. After a few more finger dances on his feet, Iona turned around to stare dreamily into Michael’s eyes. However, her eyes never made it there. It settled on something else, something that was clearly visible in the moonlight. It was the excitement Michael felt, made readily apparent for all to witness.
With a smile, Iona softly reached down, and massaged the suddenly swollen area, thus producing a slight gasp and a look of embarrassment on Michael’s face.
“Shhhh”, she whispered, her index finger backed against her smiling lips, as she gently pulled down Michael’s zipper.
Thanks for posting it.
