MY FUNNY VALENTINE
I was only dating Tom for a few weeks before Valentines Day. We were friends first, but when we discovered we had a mutual love of tickling (him a lee, me the ler), we started dating. Tom was a tickle “virgin” so we were just having a blast experimenting with light bondage, safe words, etc. At that point nothing “sexual” was involved. It was all innocent and fun, as it was just the beginning of our relationship.
Coming home from work, I received a call from Tom asking if I would “stop by” his apartment around 8:00. I found it odd that he gave me instructions to use the spare key that was taped under his flowerpot to let myself in. So, at 8:00 I arrived at Tom’s house and let myself in.
I had a hunch where this was heading when I saw a sign taped to the light at the hallway that said “Follow the Feathers” Sure enough, on the floor there was a trail of crafts feathers leading to the bedroom. I opened the bedroom door and there was my Tom bound spread eagle to the bed. His feet were secured to the large bedposts and his arms were handcuffed together and flung over the post on the headboard. For the life of me, I can’t figure out how he managed to do that himself. He was wearing only a set of boxer shorts that I bought him that had a small green feather embroidered on one of his legs. Not to mention his grin was a mile long.
I’m sure my tongue was hanging out of my mouth.
I straddled his torso very gingerly and asked him what he wanted his safe word to be tonight.
“You finish when you‘re done.” he responded.
I looked at him in surprise. This was a huge step in his trust level with me. See, I’m not a ler that holds any non-consensual tickling fantasies. If it appears that a lee is not enjoying the experience, neither do I. I have told Tom this, but until that point he always used the safe word.. Which meant, for him to throw away his use of a safe word meant that he put his ultimate trust in me that I would not push him too far.
I gave him that evil tickler smirk, and started lightly tickling his neck with my right hand, “Are you suuuuuuuure?” He crunched his neck and giggled like a little girl. “You Sure you wanna do that, huh?” He started squealing as I hastened my pace and brought the other hand into play. “Cause you can’t change your mind later….” I said slowly bringing my wiggling fingers down south until they grazed the tips of his armpit hair.
“EEEEEEEEEEK NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” He bucked practically throwing me on the floor. I crawled off him and slowly walked around the bed. He was squirming now, unsure of where I was going to go. God damn….he looked so sexy.
“Without a safe word, I don’t know how you’re going to handle it when I tickle you here” I said as I dragged my nail along the inner side of his heel. He obviously was not expecting me to do that because his eyes grew about 3 sizes bigger, he arched his back and desperately let out a deep throated “HAHAHAHAHA”. On a scale of 1 to 10 ticklishness, his feet are about a 45. But we’ll save those for later.
I came back to his torso and dragged a ticklish finger all the way up his left side. He responded in one long squeal that seemed to grow exponentially as I went up to his armpits. It was then that I grabbed his shaving brush that was laying on the side of the bed and poised it at the point his left tricep and elbow met. I started swiping the brush in a slow descent down his tricep and his whimpers started to turn into panicky squeals. Right before I got to his armpits, I stopped. I loved teasing him so. On his other arm I started the same path, this time with some slow circles with my index fingers. He started to squirm a bit as his giggles grew in intensity. Again, I stopped in the same place without moving my fingers from the spot. I picked up the shaving brush in the other hand and gave him an evil “You’re going to get it” grin. I vigorously brushed the shaving brush into his armpit hollow which he answered with hysterical obscenities along the lines of “HEEEHEEEHEEFUCK!!1HAHAHAHAHAHA”. His pelvis got into the action when my fingers started quick spider tickles under the other arm.
“PLEASE!!!!!HAHAHAHAHAHASTOP!!!!!NOOOOOOOO!!!!!”
I then started to rapidly switch the hands in each armpit, so he never knew what armpit was going to be tickled with what. I then threw the brush to the side and started tickling furiously up and down his sides up to his armpits with both of my fingers. Light tickles drive him absolutely crazy and within seconds he was starting to get breathless. I cured that easily by finding a spot on his waist that brought about a large howl from him.
“NO….NOT THERE!” He pleaded. Yeah, right. Both of my hands worked that spot until he lapsed into a long bout of silent laughter. He started coughing a little bit, so I slowed my intensity. I brought back the shaving brush and slowly started to outline his ribs. He started a barrage of rapid fire giggles which slowly moved into squeaks when I brought my hand into the action. I really don’t know why he was laughing so much. I was simply trying to find the missing rib that God made Eve out of.
I thought it was about time to kick up the intensity a bit, so I moved down to his stomach.
As soon as my fingers grazed his abs he arched his back as high as he could and yelled “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHNOOOOOOOOOO!” He has easily one of the most fun stomach’s a ler could play with because it is like a mine field. All along the whole ticklish terrain, there are these little spots scattered all over the area that are hyper ticklish. And they are VERY sensitive to soft brushes, much like the shaving brush. As soon as I started to reach for it he stated pleading. I told him that if he preferred, I’ll just go back top his armpits (as I scrambled my fingers into the sensitive hollows).
“EEEEEEKKKKKKKK….NOOOOOO!”
Geez, these uncooperative ticklees who don’t want to be tickled anywhere.
I started my shaving brush’s exploration of his stomach right under the rib cage. He responded by shaking his head back and forth and squeaking. Just to add some variety, I also incorporated my other hand to add some spider tickles to that nice sensitive part on the side right under the ribs. This brought about some more profanity and deep throated laughter. The brush continued along the mine field and Tom squeaked, screamed, and squealed through the whole ordeal. Then I started to slowly move the brush to his sensitive navel, and he became downright panicky.
“NOOOOO! JENN! PLEASE! NOT THERE!”
The poor thing couldn’t even take me outlining the edge of the belly button. He immediately turned into silent laughter and started thromping his pelvis to get away with the situation. The when I started to tickle inside the belly button with the brush he practically lifted me off the ground.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
I continue to tickle him there until it was apparent he couldn’t take anymore. I gave him a little break. He was breathing heavy and still gigging. I waited until his breathing stabilized a bit because I knew he’d need it for the next part.
He knew what was coming as I dragged my index finer right inside the waist band of his boxer shorts
“HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA Jenn….please….no….I can’t take it”. He tried to convince me. Too bad his million dollar grin was giving him away
I yanked his boxer shorts down the bottom of his belly revealing his ultra ticklish lower abs and the excruciatingly sensitive horse shoe shaped outline and the bottom of the stomach. I wasted no time and started in on a frantic spider tickling with both hands “below the belt”.
He let out a scream that could be heard somewhere in north China. The scream turned into loud bellowing, panicky belly laughs accompanied by frequent begging and pleading. I stopped abruptly and he knew exactly where I was going.
His beautiful eyes turned wide “No…..please……..don’t”
I got out the shaving brush again and just touched the top of the horse shoe curve. It was like a volt of electricity accompanied by a large scream. Not to mention the begging was getting quite a bit more desperate.
“I CAN’T TAKE IT THERE…PLEASE….ANYWHERE…..EVEN MY FEET….I CAN’T” That was actually some pretty serious begging, considering how ticklish his feet was.
So, I did what any good tickler would do and started to vigorously sweep the brush back and forth along his curve. At that point the was airborne and only dogs could hear him. I let down the brush again and brought both hands back into it in a vicious spider tickle pattern. Every part of his body was thrashing and he was calling out for everyone from God to his mother. I kept it up for a couple more minutes and then stopped. He collapsed on the bed in a sweaty exhausted heap.
I gave him a longer break and a glass of water. I asked him if he wanted to continue. He flashed me his million dollar smile again and said, “You stop when you’re done.” That’s how I knew he was good to go.
I decided to take it a little bit easier (so I thought) on him by exploring his lower back a bit. The way he was bound with his feet on the top of the bedposts gave him a pelvic tilt and some access to his lower back. So I sat next to the bed and started to scrape the shaving brush up and down his side again. He squealed and giggled a bit, so I started to move to his lower back. His squeals got a little more pronounced (especially around the spinal cord) and he seemed a little frustrated that he couldn’t get away from my tickling fingers without arching his back, which just allowed me to tickle him more. His boxer shorts were riding down a bit exposing the top of his cute butt. So I moved the shaving brush along his butt cheeks which caused him to squeak and squeal delightfully. However when I accidentally (I swear) touched the top of his ass crack with the brush, he screamed the loudest I have ever heard him scream and practically did a back bend. We both looked at each other surprised, and he started shaking his head vigorously at me “DON’T YOU DARE……” Well I didn’t…….not yet.
I was in the mood with a good dose of hearty panicky laughter, squealing, and pleading for the world to end, so I decided to move down to his feet. He saw where I was going and already the pleading started.
“Please….No….not there…” The pleading increased when I pulled back his right foot “OH GOD! NO! PLEASE! STOP!”
I took my index finger and traced it up and down his long soft sole. Already he was going ballistic in a laughter/squeal/squeak combination.
“HAHAHAHAHEEHEEHEEEEEEEKKKKKSTOPHAAHAHAHAHAA”
Faster and faster the index finger moved across his feet, up and down the arches, up across the top of the toes. And poor Tom couldn’t do anything to stop it but thrash his leg, shake his head, and plead. I introduced the shaving brush into my plan and the squeals became even more high pitched.
“UUUUUGUHHHAHAHAHAHAHPLEASESTOPSTOP!HAHAHAHAHAHAHAA”
The big scream came when I poked the shaving brush between his big and second toe.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!STOP! YOU KNOW I CAN’T TAKE THAT!”
That is true actually. Usually when start exploring between the toes, Tom yells the safe word. But, he will have to learn to take it tonight. I continued a slow and torturous decent between each of the toes. And I suddenly thanked God his bedroom was soundproof. The profanity amplified when I started to scribble all five fingers along his sole. He started to cough and I stopped. I’m not sure he noticed it at first, because he was still laughing. When the red drained from his face, I firmly announced,
“Now it’s time for the other foot!”
Hmmm, I didn’t know eyes could get that big.
Tom didn’t look any better after the other foot as he did after the first one. He actually went so far as to call me a “fucking bitch”. Which really did nothing but to make me scamper my fingers along both soles for a solid 5 minutes while he hooted and hollered and in general went insane.
Usually at this point, the session has been stopped. And I think Tom was expecting that when I stopped tickling his feet But I wasn’t going to today.
I sat next to him and ticklish ran a finger under his right knee. He started to squirm helplessly
“Tom, how ticklish are you on your inner thighs?”
At that point, we were only dating two weeks so we hadn’t explored this. In fact, we didn’t do anything remotely sexual. But I knew by his face that he was. I confirmed this through allowing the finger that was tickling behind his knee to venture into his inner thigh
“EEEEEEEKKK!” He yelled.
I looked at him. He was obviously nervous, but excited too. So, I took a risk.
“However, I can’t properly tickle you with these in the way”.
There’s a reason I bought those boxer shorts….and not just because of the feather. They were bought from a lingerie company and had Velcro on the sides….like the kind male strippers wear to just “rip it off”. This is exactly what I did.
Now I’m holding his boxer shorts, and he is in the bare buff. He was surprised, and maybe a little embarrassed. And he started squirming.
“No please……I can’t take it THERE….” he protested weakly. But, he knew my mind was made up. And from the look in his eyes, I knew he trusted me.
He wasn’t very ticklish on the top of his knees but the bottom of his knees were golden. We’re talking deep belly laughs in rapid fire, with no room to squeeze in a plead.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
I moved my hands a little further north on the back of his thighs. He was surprised how much it tickled by responding with a “AH----HAHAHAHAHA!” I tickled the back for a little bit and then moved to his inner thighs. It obviously tickled really bad because his upper body was thrashing like crazy and his legs were waggling as much as he could. I continued my slow decent in this fashion until I was approximately a good inch from his package. By now he was laughing and pleading so desperately, that I gave him a little break to catch his breath.
“Ready?” I said. Before he could even respond, I gave a full fledge double handed tickling from the bottom of his butt to the top of his inner thighs. He could barely take it. He screamed so hard, I’m surprised the people down the street didn’t call the police. His laughter was punctuated by an
“OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!!!:
To be extra evil, I grabbed the shaving brush and flicked it up and down his ass crack. Tears were shooting from his eyes and we heard a spring from the bed break. I then moved my vicious tickling the his sensitive horseshoe crack. By this time he resigned himself to his ticklish fate, stopped struggling and just emitted the loudest most desperate laugh with punctuated pleading. After 5 minutes, it was clear that he was done, and I stopped and let him up.
He lay there for a good 10 minutes quietly getting his laughter on control, trying to regain his muscle function. After 15 minutes, he sat up limply, his face covered with streaks. I sat behind him and gave him a deep muscle rub. He groaned in satisfaction. I wrapped my arms around him, gave him a kiss and thanked him for the best Valentine’s gift of all.
What happened next would be unladylike for me to elaborate.
I was only dating Tom for a few weeks before Valentines Day. We were friends first, but when we discovered we had a mutual love of tickling (him a lee, me the ler), we started dating. Tom was a tickle “virgin” so we were just having a blast experimenting with light bondage, safe words, etc. At that point nothing “sexual” was involved. It was all innocent and fun, as it was just the beginning of our relationship.
Coming home from work, I received a call from Tom asking if I would “stop by” his apartment around 8:00. I found it odd that he gave me instructions to use the spare key that was taped under his flowerpot to let myself in. So, at 8:00 I arrived at Tom’s house and let myself in.
I had a hunch where this was heading when I saw a sign taped to the light at the hallway that said “Follow the Feathers” Sure enough, on the floor there was a trail of crafts feathers leading to the bedroom. I opened the bedroom door and there was my Tom bound spread eagle to the bed. His feet were secured to the large bedposts and his arms were handcuffed together and flung over the post on the headboard. For the life of me, I can’t figure out how he managed to do that himself. He was wearing only a set of boxer shorts that I bought him that had a small green feather embroidered on one of his legs. Not to mention his grin was a mile long.
I’m sure my tongue was hanging out of my mouth.
I straddled his torso very gingerly and asked him what he wanted his safe word to be tonight.
“You finish when you‘re done.” he responded.
I looked at him in surprise. This was a huge step in his trust level with me. See, I’m not a ler that holds any non-consensual tickling fantasies. If it appears that a lee is not enjoying the experience, neither do I. I have told Tom this, but until that point he always used the safe word.. Which meant, for him to throw away his use of a safe word meant that he put his ultimate trust in me that I would not push him too far.
I gave him that evil tickler smirk, and started lightly tickling his neck with my right hand, “Are you suuuuuuuure?” He crunched his neck and giggled like a little girl. “You Sure you wanna do that, huh?” He started squealing as I hastened my pace and brought the other hand into play. “Cause you can’t change your mind later….” I said slowly bringing my wiggling fingers down south until they grazed the tips of his armpit hair.
“EEEEEEEEEEK NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” He bucked practically throwing me on the floor. I crawled off him and slowly walked around the bed. He was squirming now, unsure of where I was going to go. God damn….he looked so sexy.
“Without a safe word, I don’t know how you’re going to handle it when I tickle you here” I said as I dragged my nail along the inner side of his heel. He obviously was not expecting me to do that because his eyes grew about 3 sizes bigger, he arched his back and desperately let out a deep throated “HAHAHAHAHA”. On a scale of 1 to 10 ticklishness, his feet are about a 45. But we’ll save those for later.
I came back to his torso and dragged a ticklish finger all the way up his left side. He responded in one long squeal that seemed to grow exponentially as I went up to his armpits. It was then that I grabbed his shaving brush that was laying on the side of the bed and poised it at the point his left tricep and elbow met. I started swiping the brush in a slow descent down his tricep and his whimpers started to turn into panicky squeals. Right before I got to his armpits, I stopped. I loved teasing him so. On his other arm I started the same path, this time with some slow circles with my index fingers. He started to squirm a bit as his giggles grew in intensity. Again, I stopped in the same place without moving my fingers from the spot. I picked up the shaving brush in the other hand and gave him an evil “You’re going to get it” grin. I vigorously brushed the shaving brush into his armpit hollow which he answered with hysterical obscenities along the lines of “HEEEHEEEHEEFUCK!!1HAHAHAHAHAHA”. His pelvis got into the action when my fingers started quick spider tickles under the other arm.
“PLEASE!!!!!HAHAHAHAHAHASTOP!!!!!NOOOOOOOO!!!!!”
I then started to rapidly switch the hands in each armpit, so he never knew what armpit was going to be tickled with what. I then threw the brush to the side and started tickling furiously up and down his sides up to his armpits with both of my fingers. Light tickles drive him absolutely crazy and within seconds he was starting to get breathless. I cured that easily by finding a spot on his waist that brought about a large howl from him.
“NO….NOT THERE!” He pleaded. Yeah, right. Both of my hands worked that spot until he lapsed into a long bout of silent laughter. He started coughing a little bit, so I slowed my intensity. I brought back the shaving brush and slowly started to outline his ribs. He started a barrage of rapid fire giggles which slowly moved into squeaks when I brought my hand into the action. I really don’t know why he was laughing so much. I was simply trying to find the missing rib that God made Eve out of.
I thought it was about time to kick up the intensity a bit, so I moved down to his stomach.
As soon as my fingers grazed his abs he arched his back as high as he could and yelled “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHNOOOOOOOOOO!” He has easily one of the most fun stomach’s a ler could play with because it is like a mine field. All along the whole ticklish terrain, there are these little spots scattered all over the area that are hyper ticklish. And they are VERY sensitive to soft brushes, much like the shaving brush. As soon as I started to reach for it he stated pleading. I told him that if he preferred, I’ll just go back top his armpits (as I scrambled my fingers into the sensitive hollows).
“EEEEEEKKKKKKKK….NOOOOOO!”
Geez, these uncooperative ticklees who don’t want to be tickled anywhere.
I started my shaving brush’s exploration of his stomach right under the rib cage. He responded by shaking his head back and forth and squeaking. Just to add some variety, I also incorporated my other hand to add some spider tickles to that nice sensitive part on the side right under the ribs. This brought about some more profanity and deep throated laughter. The brush continued along the mine field and Tom squeaked, screamed, and squealed through the whole ordeal. Then I started to slowly move the brush to his sensitive navel, and he became downright panicky.
“NOOOOO! JENN! PLEASE! NOT THERE!”
The poor thing couldn’t even take me outlining the edge of the belly button. He immediately turned into silent laughter and started thromping his pelvis to get away with the situation. The when I started to tickle inside the belly button with the brush he practically lifted me off the ground.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
I continue to tickle him there until it was apparent he couldn’t take anymore. I gave him a little break. He was breathing heavy and still gigging. I waited until his breathing stabilized a bit because I knew he’d need it for the next part.
He knew what was coming as I dragged my index finer right inside the waist band of his boxer shorts
“HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA Jenn….please….no….I can’t take it”. He tried to convince me. Too bad his million dollar grin was giving him away
I yanked his boxer shorts down the bottom of his belly revealing his ultra ticklish lower abs and the excruciatingly sensitive horse shoe shaped outline and the bottom of the stomach. I wasted no time and started in on a frantic spider tickling with both hands “below the belt”.
He let out a scream that could be heard somewhere in north China. The scream turned into loud bellowing, panicky belly laughs accompanied by frequent begging and pleading. I stopped abruptly and he knew exactly where I was going.
His beautiful eyes turned wide “No…..please……..don’t”
I got out the shaving brush again and just touched the top of the horse shoe curve. It was like a volt of electricity accompanied by a large scream. Not to mention the begging was getting quite a bit more desperate.
“I CAN’T TAKE IT THERE…PLEASE….ANYWHERE…..EVEN MY FEET….I CAN’T” That was actually some pretty serious begging, considering how ticklish his feet was.
So, I did what any good tickler would do and started to vigorously sweep the brush back and forth along his curve. At that point the was airborne and only dogs could hear him. I let down the brush again and brought both hands back into it in a vicious spider tickle pattern. Every part of his body was thrashing and he was calling out for everyone from God to his mother. I kept it up for a couple more minutes and then stopped. He collapsed on the bed in a sweaty exhausted heap.
I gave him a longer break and a glass of water. I asked him if he wanted to continue. He flashed me his million dollar smile again and said, “You stop when you’re done.” That’s how I knew he was good to go.
I decided to take it a little bit easier (so I thought) on him by exploring his lower back a bit. The way he was bound with his feet on the top of the bedposts gave him a pelvic tilt and some access to his lower back. So I sat next to the bed and started to scrape the shaving brush up and down his side again. He squealed and giggled a bit, so I started to move to his lower back. His squeals got a little more pronounced (especially around the spinal cord) and he seemed a little frustrated that he couldn’t get away from my tickling fingers without arching his back, which just allowed me to tickle him more. His boxer shorts were riding down a bit exposing the top of his cute butt. So I moved the shaving brush along his butt cheeks which caused him to squeak and squeal delightfully. However when I accidentally (I swear) touched the top of his ass crack with the brush, he screamed the loudest I have ever heard him scream and practically did a back bend. We both looked at each other surprised, and he started shaking his head vigorously at me “DON’T YOU DARE……” Well I didn’t…….not yet.
I was in the mood with a good dose of hearty panicky laughter, squealing, and pleading for the world to end, so I decided to move down to his feet. He saw where I was going and already the pleading started.
“Please….No….not there…” The pleading increased when I pulled back his right foot “OH GOD! NO! PLEASE! STOP!”
I took my index finger and traced it up and down his long soft sole. Already he was going ballistic in a laughter/squeal/squeak combination.
“HAHAHAHAHEEHEEHEEEEEEEKKKKKSTOPHAAHAHAHAHAA”
Faster and faster the index finger moved across his feet, up and down the arches, up across the top of the toes. And poor Tom couldn’t do anything to stop it but thrash his leg, shake his head, and plead. I introduced the shaving brush into my plan and the squeals became even more high pitched.
“UUUUUGUHHHAHAHAHAHAHPLEASESTOPSTOP!HAHAHAHAHAHAHAA”
The big scream came when I poked the shaving brush between his big and second toe.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!STOP! YOU KNOW I CAN’T TAKE THAT!”
That is true actually. Usually when start exploring between the toes, Tom yells the safe word. But, he will have to learn to take it tonight. I continued a slow and torturous decent between each of the toes. And I suddenly thanked God his bedroom was soundproof. The profanity amplified when I started to scribble all five fingers along his sole. He started to cough and I stopped. I’m not sure he noticed it at first, because he was still laughing. When the red drained from his face, I firmly announced,
“Now it’s time for the other foot!”
Hmmm, I didn’t know eyes could get that big.
Tom didn’t look any better after the other foot as he did after the first one. He actually went so far as to call me a “fucking bitch”. Which really did nothing but to make me scamper my fingers along both soles for a solid 5 minutes while he hooted and hollered and in general went insane.
Usually at this point, the session has been stopped. And I think Tom was expecting that when I stopped tickling his feet But I wasn’t going to today.
I sat next to him and ticklish ran a finger under his right knee. He started to squirm helplessly
“Tom, how ticklish are you on your inner thighs?”
At that point, we were only dating two weeks so we hadn’t explored this. In fact, we didn’t do anything remotely sexual. But I knew by his face that he was. I confirmed this through allowing the finger that was tickling behind his knee to venture into his inner thigh
“EEEEEEEKKK!” He yelled.
I looked at him. He was obviously nervous, but excited too. So, I took a risk.
“However, I can’t properly tickle you with these in the way”.
There’s a reason I bought those boxer shorts….and not just because of the feather. They were bought from a lingerie company and had Velcro on the sides….like the kind male strippers wear to just “rip it off”. This is exactly what I did.
Now I’m holding his boxer shorts, and he is in the bare buff. He was surprised, and maybe a little embarrassed. And he started squirming.
“No please……I can’t take it THERE….” he protested weakly. But, he knew my mind was made up. And from the look in his eyes, I knew he trusted me.
He wasn’t very ticklish on the top of his knees but the bottom of his knees were golden. We’re talking deep belly laughs in rapid fire, with no room to squeeze in a plead.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”
I moved my hands a little further north on the back of his thighs. He was surprised how much it tickled by responding with a “AH----HAHAHAHAHA!” I tickled the back for a little bit and then moved to his inner thighs. It obviously tickled really bad because his upper body was thrashing like crazy and his legs were waggling as much as he could. I continued my slow decent in this fashion until I was approximately a good inch from his package. By now he was laughing and pleading so desperately, that I gave him a little break to catch his breath.
“Ready?” I said. Before he could even respond, I gave a full fledge double handed tickling from the bottom of his butt to the top of his inner thighs. He could barely take it. He screamed so hard, I’m surprised the people down the street didn’t call the police. His laughter was punctuated by an
“OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!!!:
To be extra evil, I grabbed the shaving brush and flicked it up and down his ass crack. Tears were shooting from his eyes and we heard a spring from the bed break. I then moved my vicious tickling the his sensitive horseshoe crack. By this time he resigned himself to his ticklish fate, stopped struggling and just emitted the loudest most desperate laugh with punctuated pleading. After 5 minutes, it was clear that he was done, and I stopped and let him up.
He lay there for a good 10 minutes quietly getting his laughter on control, trying to regain his muscle function. After 15 minutes, he sat up limply, his face covered with streaks. I sat behind him and gave him a deep muscle rub. He groaned in satisfaction. I wrapped my arms around him, gave him a kiss and thanked him for the best Valentine’s gift of all.
What happened next would be unladylike for me to elaborate.
