i am an insanely ticklish female of small stature so i am easily overpowrered.
How to describe that first instant when i am tickled...the electric current that flashes through me from the point of the tickle, running instantly throughout my body, making my tummy vibrate, my heart race, my breathing quicken, my face flush red, and my whole body instinctively trying to pull away.
If it is a deep tickle my entire focus is on that spot being tickled and trying any movement that will escape the tickling fingers or whatever implement of tickle toment is being used on my so very ticklish skin. A deep tickle is one that makes me shriek and instinctively and immediately try to pull away.
i can't think of anything but trying to curl into a little ball to avoid the tickling sensations bombarding me, making me frantic, causing me to lose control, to laugh, to squeal and shriek. i say anything to my tickler, between the giggling and laughing, to convince him to stop, even for an instant.
Rarely does the tickling stop and if i am tied or restrained and helplessly vulnerable, my ticklishness increases (if that is possible!) and only later, long after the tickling is done, do i discover the soft bruises on my wrists where i pulled with all my strength against my restraints, doing little more than writhing and twisting within the limits of my bonds and trying to rise off the tickle bed (or table or floor) while my tickler drives me insane.
If it is a light tickle, i giggle like a little girl and make little whines and bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut and wiggle. A light tickle is one i can almost handle and is more tingly pleasing than madness making. my skin breaks out in goosebumps and i have composure enough to think of all the ticklish spots that are exposed and how helpless i am to stop the tickler from attacking them. Running like headlines through my mind are silent pleas that my tickler not attack my most ticklish spots.
"Notmyfeet, notmyfeet, notmyfeet," runs through my head or "pleasenottheribs, pleasenotheribs, please..." until the tickler, as if reading my mind runs a finger along my bare helpless sole or over my exposed ribcage and i explode in laughter and shrieks.
Yet when there are breaks in the tickling (as any experienced tickler knows there must be) between catching my breath, i tease my tickler, sticking my tongue out, asking, "is that all?" as i smile sweetly, even as i know i will pay for my brattiness with renewed attacks in the hollows of my underarms, behind my knees, across my tummy, along my thighs, on the curve of my neck, between my toes, along my sides and anywhere that gives my tickler a reaction.
How can i explain what it feels like to be tickled? How my entire body increases in ticklishness. How my heart feels like it will explode in anticipation. How i fight to get enough air into my lungs. How literally out of control i become. How every nerve ending is alive. How each tickle is maddening yet also some deep part of me feels giggly and happy and free... and, depending on who my tickler is and how skillful the tickling, midst all the laughter and pleading and struggling, at some point a warmth and a tingling comes from deep inside, my nipples become erect and hard and i discover, even as i writhe and wiggle, that i am intensely aroused.
How to describe that first instant when i am tickled...the electric current that flashes through me from the point of the tickle, running instantly throughout my body, making my tummy vibrate, my heart race, my breathing quicken, my face flush red, and my whole body instinctively trying to pull away.
If it is a deep tickle my entire focus is on that spot being tickled and trying any movement that will escape the tickling fingers or whatever implement of tickle toment is being used on my so very ticklish skin. A deep tickle is one that makes me shriek and instinctively and immediately try to pull away.
i can't think of anything but trying to curl into a little ball to avoid the tickling sensations bombarding me, making me frantic, causing me to lose control, to laugh, to squeal and shriek. i say anything to my tickler, between the giggling and laughing, to convince him to stop, even for an instant.
Rarely does the tickling stop and if i am tied or restrained and helplessly vulnerable, my ticklishness increases (if that is possible!) and only later, long after the tickling is done, do i discover the soft bruises on my wrists where i pulled with all my strength against my restraints, doing little more than writhing and twisting within the limits of my bonds and trying to rise off the tickle bed (or table or floor) while my tickler drives me insane.
If it is a light tickle, i giggle like a little girl and make little whines and bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut and wiggle. A light tickle is one i can almost handle and is more tingly pleasing than madness making. my skin breaks out in goosebumps and i have composure enough to think of all the ticklish spots that are exposed and how helpless i am to stop the tickler from attacking them. Running like headlines through my mind are silent pleas that my tickler not attack my most ticklish spots.
"Notmyfeet, notmyfeet, notmyfeet," runs through my head or "pleasenottheribs, pleasenotheribs, please..." until the tickler, as if reading my mind runs a finger along my bare helpless sole or over my exposed ribcage and i explode in laughter and shrieks.
Yet when there are breaks in the tickling (as any experienced tickler knows there must be) between catching my breath, i tease my tickler, sticking my tongue out, asking, "is that all?" as i smile sweetly, even as i know i will pay for my brattiness with renewed attacks in the hollows of my underarms, behind my knees, across my tummy, along my thighs, on the curve of my neck, between my toes, along my sides and anywhere that gives my tickler a reaction.
How can i explain what it feels like to be tickled? How my entire body increases in ticklishness. How my heart feels like it will explode in anticipation. How i fight to get enough air into my lungs. How literally out of control i become. How every nerve ending is alive. How each tickle is maddening yet also some deep part of me feels giggly and happy and free... and, depending on who my tickler is and how skillful the tickling, midst all the laughter and pleading and struggling, at some point a warmth and a tingling comes from deep inside, my nipples become erect and hard and i discover, even as i writhe and wiggle, that i am intensely aroused.
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remind me that I really MUST tickle the **** out of you! lol
*prays to God* PLEASE let this Jan chick b my age (21) .......and very pretty.......and in my area (MD)! 
_
