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True Tickling story#5: Lynda

J-dark

TMF Poster
Joined
Nov 25, 2001
Messages
114
Points
16
TK True Tickling story: Lynda

(Names changed to protect the shy and ticklish...)

Like most of my tickling friends, Lynda and I met online, in a chat room.
Heh. A little lesson to you other ticklophiles out there who want to find
a tickling buddy of your own--- get mIRC, ICQ, or some kind of real time
chat program! Ahem. Now then... on to the story.

Lynda is a very sweet and very dear friend. She holds a special place in
my heart, and always will. We met in the same medieval role play chat room
in which I met Aeris and Ruthi, mentioned in previous stories. Lynda and I
hit it off almost immediately. She was a lovely, charming, and quick witted
woman, always with a smile, and quick to laugh, even at my somewhat lame
jokes. One thing always leads to another, and with her perchant for
laughing, the subject of tickling came up. (Lesson two, ticklophiles: there
is always a way to steer the conversation, with subtlety, to tickling, if
you pay attention.) When I broached the subject with her, Lynda admitted,
unabashedly, that she was horribly ticklish, but that it had been quite a
while since anyone had tickled her. Naturally, I replied, "Well that's a
shame! Anyone as jolly and playful as you should be tickled on a regular
basis!"

To which she replied, "Oh, and who would be tickling me, darlin'? You?"

You can see where this was going. I, being the suave, debonaire, quick-
witted fellow that I am, replied, "I wouldn't mind it, if you wouldn't."

"Oh. So... you're INTO tickling, then? That's your 'THING'?"

Embarrasment. Warning! Warning! Danger Will Robinson! Luckily for me, at
that moment the network 'hiccupped', splitting the chat room, and giving
us a few minutes of precious lag time for me to think up a reply. Once the
network was stable again, and I had recovered, I came back with, "Well, I,
er, I wouldn't call it a THING, exactly. I mean, its not like I have a...
a FETISH or anything!" Yep, even used the 'F' word. I was flailing wildly,
trying to find a life preserver, folks. Then, she totally capsized me again
with her next reply.

"Oh... well, that's too bad."

Excuse me! Was she disappointed that I DIDN'T have a thing for tickling?!?
I was way off balance now, not knowing if she was teasing me, which she
often did and was very good at, or seriously feeling me out, as a kindred
spirit. Knowing I had nothing to lose, unable to become any MORE embarrassed
than I already was, I forged ahead.

"Okay. Okay, ya got me. I do... kinda... sorta... have a 'thing' for
tickling."

"Really? Are you sure this time?" she asked playfully.

"Uh uh. Really. I just, uhm, don't like to spread it around, yanno." Oh
yeah, that's me. Mr. Cool.

That little admission led to a very intense conversation between us, the
first of many. Okay. First of all, Lynda didn't have a tickling fetish, per
sae, but some of her former acquaintances had, and the idea intrigued her.
She was curious. Since she wasn't readily repulsed by the idea, I figured
I might as well explain the concept, get her used to the idea, and slowly
but surely indocturnate her into the fold. (insert evil laugh here) I was
out of college at this time, age twenty-seven, still proudly a virgin
(though more from lack of prospects than from abstinance) and she was an
attractive, sexy, older woman in her mid-thirties, easily ten-twelve years
my senior. Through our conversations, she taught me much more about the
wonderful world of sex, and I taught her about tickling, and the sexual
lines between the two kinda blurred.

We were online, of course, as she lived all the way in Texas, and I lived
on the eastern coast. Taking a two hour trip to visit Aeris now and again
was one thing, but going to Texas was a bit far for a tickling session.
Still, from her growing love and desire to experience more, and my own
hot horny little desires, we came up with the idea of phone calls. (grins)
So, from online chatting, to online tickle/erotic play, to phone sex, we
both descended, enjoying every moment of it. My phone bill grew outrageous
despite using 1-800-CALL-ATT. Still, it was more than worth it. Lynda was
very good at following directions, and I was very inventive, for setting
the mood, giving her the imagery in her mind, the idea even the sensation
of being tickled, stroked, and caressed all over her naked body.

Another note. I discovered, among other things, that I had a talent for
hypnosis, which was another budding fetish of mine. Perhaps my intense
visual imagery given to her over the phone was a bit more of a hypnotic
induction and less of my great auditory skills? Who knows.

Anyway, after a few months, our online and phone play progressed further
and became more intense. One session in particular, the first of its kind,
springs very vividly to mind. We were both in our bedrooms talking, and
very deeply relaxed, I was going over my whole spiel, my eyes closed,
deeply imagining myself there, tickling her soft tender flesh all over,
running feathers lightly all over her nakedness, tickling and teasing
her nipples, then her underarms, with one hand. The other hand, I would
run repeatedly from her ticklish heaving tummy, to her thighs, and her
pussy, then back to her tummy again, stroking, caressing, tickling. I could
see it all in my mind's eye, and I described it in glorious technicolor,
and all the while she is giggling softly, imagining it, starting to feel
it herself from my words... and then she begins to start breathing really
hard, and deep, and rapid... and then all of the sudden she starts
grunting and gasping, and chanting 'Oh, God, oh God, oh God." You fill in
the blanks.

Needless to say, we made plans to meet soon after. Working full time at
the textile plant now, I gathered up my vacation time, bought a plane
ticket, and flew out to Texas. She picked me up from the airport, looking
even cuter in person than her picture, dressed in a floral sundress of
some kind (as much fashion as necessity, Texas was having a record heat
wave that year, up to 106 degrees!) She also wore a pair of white strappy
sandals. We hugged and kissed, and the electricty sparked between us.

We'd talked beforehand, and I'd decided to give her the gift I'd held onto
for all those 27 years, something I trusted to her. She was a dear close
friend, one I was intimate with already, in a way, and one who was older
and experienced. She was also a hottie, which didn't hurt. (grins)

On the trip back to her place, we held hands. She was feeling playful,
and kept feeling me up... particularly the steadily growing bulge in my
pants. Her attire and sexy body, not to mention her teasing, had ME
feeling playful as well, and I would reach over and goose her ribs, or
tickle her under her arms, now and again, making her squeal or laugh.
Unfortunately, she was driving, and after the third time nearly going off
the interstate, we agreed that I would let her play with me, and wait till
we arrived home to play with HER.

It was the damn longest hour drive in HISTORY!!

We stopped at a resteraunt to get something to eat before heading all the
way home. It had been a long flight, and I was hungry. Sitting at the
table, she again felt playful, and slipping her foot out of her sandal,
plopped it into my lap, teasing my only slightly-deflated manhood back to
attention once more. This time, I didn't plan on backing down. I clenched
my legs together, trapping her foot, and began a devious tickle assault
just as the waitress arrived to take our orders.

She giggled for a moment, but then, to my frustration, regained her
composure. She promptly ordered, then asked what I wanted, bringing her
OTHER bare foot up into my lap, stroking my bulge with her free foot. I
ordered, trying not to squirm, and capturing both feet, began tickling
again. She still managed to remain composed, not giggling or even cracking
a smile. It was as if she had turned her ticklishness completely off.

"I can take it longer than you can, darlin," she teased, rubbing constantly
against me.

I tried everything to make her crack. I tickled her arches, her instep,
under and between her toes. Her foot shook, it flexed now and again, but
she flatly refused to laugh or even smile. The waitress came back, and
I gave up, letting her feet go, but she wasn't finished with HER game
yet. She teased me to the very brink, then, deciding she had accomplished
what she wanted withdrew, to my disappointment.

"Sorry, J, darlin', but I don't want to waste it," she purred at me. "Wait
till we get home."

The little minx. Of course, I saw when we got up to go back to the car
that my foot tickling had been more effective than I'd thought, only
not in the way I'd thought. Perhaps I should explain before I continue.

Lynda seems to be one of those weird kind of people that is VERY VERY
ticklish, all over, but especially on her feet... only it doesn't make her
burst into laughter. The more I tickled her, the more sexually excited
she got, that was her reaction. Except at the very beginning, when you
caught her off guard, you could never make her LAUGH... just giggle once
in a while... then sigh... then moan, and groan... and then, well you
know what comes after that. When she stood up from the table, I could see
the wetness at her crotch, and I could smell her arousal when she stood
close. It was a... different reaction from what I had been expecting, but
far be it for me to EVER look a gift horse in the mouth.

Once we got home, however, it was all bets off. Practically as soon as we
were in the front door, we started kissing like crazy. Our tongues started
dancing, and our clothes began flying. My hands were in heaven exploring
every inch of her wonderful body, caressing, tenderly stroking, feeling
her every suppled curve. Tickling was at the forefront of my mind, but my
own sexual needs pushed it to the back. We stumbled/walked/crawled/fell into
the bathroom. We were both sweaty from the long hot highway trip, and I was
grimy from the seven hour plane ride. We ended up in the shower, the hot
steamy water flowing over us only adding to the experience. My dominant
nature emerged, and I pushed her up against the shower wall and began to
finger her. I commanded her to hold on to the towel bar, and I ran the gamut
on her. After she came, I was curious, so I knelt down and tried my hand at
cunngilus, which got her all hot and bothered again. Clean now, but still
horny, we made our way back to the bedroom, and this time, actually went to
the bed.

Since this is a TICKLING story, I won't bore you with the intricate details
of my first time, let me just say that it was wonderful and magical, that
Lynda was every bit as gentle yet sexually insatiable, kind and considerate,
yetdamanding, as I could have ever wanted.

After recovering, we went at it again, at a bit more leisurely pace. We were
happy that the preliminaries were over with. NOW it was time for the fun,
the experimental stuff we'd chatted and fantasized about. Round Two, laides
and gentlemen, let's get ready to TIIICCKKKKLLLLLEEEEE!!!

Lynda's body was a wealth of soft curves ane ticklsh sensitive skin. In
particular I found that I enjoyed playing with her achingly sweet breasts,
which were, to put it delicately, HUGE! As I licked and tickled her nipples
with my tongue, making her shiver and shudder in pleasure, I decided to add
TITTY fetish to my growing list of deviant sexual vices. My fingers explored
her sides and I took delight at the way she wriggled and bucked as I counted
every single rib several times. She still didn't laugh, but the gyrations of
her hips against my own increased proportionally to the tickling. After
another explosive release, we lay back to rest a bit. I lay there, beside
her, wathcing her pant sexily, her face red, her breasts heaving, her eyes
slightly glazed. I knew as well as anyone that a person is extremely
sensitive all over after they cum... and spying her lovely size six foot
lying within reach, I began a two-pronged assault on her person.

A sweet precious giggle burst from her lips, before being replaced by her
usual moans again. I tickled her soft pink sole with my fingers, and sucked
and licked her tiny pudgy little toes with my tongue, gliding it in and out,
in between, and under the curl. My other hand I returned to her moving
gyrating hips, and began tickling and teasing the soft downy fine hairs
covering her mound. I tickled and tickled and tickled, bringing her to the
very edge... then in a fit of lust and inspiration, I moved away from her
pussy, slid her tickled foot to my crotch and began grinding it against my
cock, while my fingers continued to tickle and tease her other ticklish
foot.

The sensation was too much for her. Her toes curled, her back arched, and
she cried out passionately as she came and came and came, harder than she
had before with my cock buried in her. She came so passionately that I
soon followed suit, soaking her soft tender little foot. Afterwards, we
lay together, holding one another in deep, blissful, sleepy pleasure.

That was perhaps the best day of the week-long visit. I have a terrible
track record with luck, such that for every ONE good day, I have FIVE
bad days to go with it. That day had been wonderful, exquisite, perfect,
so naturally, my darling Lynda got her period the next day. (sigh) Still,
she was very accomdating, I got to tickle her all week, and I learned
yet another fetish, ANAL sex, (hey, if one side is closed off, the
other is still accessible... you do what ya gotta do) which she not only
didn't mind but actually suggested! I tell ya, what a woman. (*smiles*)

I should also mention that during that week, I met up with some more of
my online friends who lived in Texas, and came to stay with me and Lynda for
a few days since I was in town. I got to tickle THEM as well... but that is
another story!

After the week was up, I returned home> We spoke several times online
after that, but I never returned to visit her in Texas. I believe she has
found someone else special, and I have someone else in my life as well. But
I'll never forget my ticklish little Lynda.
 
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