All names and identities changed, if you don't like f/m tickling move on, blah, blah, blah....you know the drill.
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F/M Halloween Tickle
I went to huge Halloween party last year at a friend’s house. A massive event, well over 200 people in this huge house/mansion. I went dressed as Wonder Woman (if you knew me, you’d know how funny that concept is). There were two main rooms for the party….this large ballroom for the DJ and music, and this smaller room where a TV was set up and playing horror movies. So there was about 30 people or so in the TV room watching Halloween 2 and talking. I was standing in the back talking to my friend Paul who I haven’t seen in a while. He was dressed like the Hulk….who had on a padded green torso (to look like muscles) and padded green legs…his feet were bare with green body paint on the tops. (Yowzas).
The movie ended and everyone in the room left to return to the dance room, because Halloween 3 was coming on and no one should be subjected to that. =)
“You want to go dance?”
He sits on this couch/daybed contraption and starts rubbing his feet.
“Naw, I’m going to sit down for a while. I’ve got foot problems, and I’m not supposed to be standing or walking barefoot for a long time. But, how stupid would the Hulk look in a pair of orthopedic sneakers?” I think he has planter fascitis, or something. I don’t know…my mind was on other things. =)
“Lie down….I’ve been trained in massage.” (which is true…not part of an evil ploy. Fine, it was…but it was at least a truthful part of an evil ploy.)
He lies down on his stomach on the bed, “Don’t need to tell me twice.”
So I move to the end of the daybed/couch contraption and sit on his calves. His feet were hanging off the bed, so not to get any green paint on the furniture. When I touched his left sole he flinched a bit, but I started a very deep massage rubbing on both feet.
“Oh God….that feels good.” He said.
I continued that technique for a while and then very slightly lightened up my touch. He was still very relaxed, but when I applied the lighter touch on several “hot spots” his feet flexed, or he shifted slightly underneath me, but no protests to it. I lightened up my touch again, and he suddenly got very jumpy, and eventually let out a muffled giggle.
I stopped and laughingly said, “Maybe I should try a different technique.”
I grabbed hold of the top of his left foot and started dragging my five long nails up and down his soles.
“EEEEEEEE! EEEEEEHEEEHEEHEEEHEEEHEEEHEEHEE!” He squealed, twisting and turning underneath me.
“Ah-ha! Just what I thought! Hulk is ticklish!”
I moved my fingernails up down, and all around his very soft soles, as he squealed a twisted.
HEEEE! HEEEEE!HEEHEEEHEEEHEE! PLEEEEEEEASE! HEEHEEEHEE!”
“How powerful Wonder Woman would be if Hulk’s foes knew he’s ticklish.”
“HEEE! HEE! NO HE’S NOT!”
“Oh really?” I said, as I locked his feet together with my legs (the costume he was wearing was quite bulky and gave him no hope of twisting himself loose). I brought my other hand into the action as I started scraping both his soles. His squeals become higher pitched and his back arched.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEEE! PLEEEEASE! PLEEASSE! HEEEEEEE! HEEEHEEEHEEEEHEEHEE! STOP!”
.”I thought you said you weren’t ticklish.”
“HEEEHEEEHEEE! PLEASE! HEEEHEEEHEE!”
“Well, The Hulk says he isn’t ticklish, so I see no reason to stop.”
“He is! He is!”
I stopped and he continued giggling under me. He didn’t move, didn’t try to pull his feet away…just laid there, giggling in anticipation almost as if he was expecting (maybe wanting?) me to start again.
“You are really ticklish.” I commented (I’m good at stating the obvious)
“Heeheehee…I know.”
“Unfortunately, Wonder Woman loves a ticklish foe.”
I had no worries someone was going to burst in on us, because (thankfully) whoever left the room last closed the door assuming we actually wanted to watch Halloween 3, and the music was blaring so loud from the other room, that I doubt anyone would hear him anyway.
I bent forward a bit, clutching my thighs together, keeping his ankles in a leg lock, and used my forearm to bend his toes back. Which meant I wasn’t going to be able to get his toes (even though I knew they were horribly ticklish from my exploratory tickle), but that will be another day….
“No..hohohohohoho!” he protested before I even touched him.
Down to one hand, I alternated spider tickles on his heels, which immediately sent him into giggles.
“Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeeheeheeheehee!” He giggled, trying to twist, but having no luck wearing a bulky costume.
I continued this for a while, and his giggles got more desperate, possibly because he knew he was about to get it much worse.
I then crept down his outer edge of the foot, leaving the narrow part of his sole and arch (his most ticklish spots) for the end, and started a creeping spider tickle on the balls of the foot which caused him to burst out in desperate laughter.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! STOP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
I continued on the balls for a while and then lightly scraped the bottom of his toes with my finger nails. He reacted with stunned silent laughter,
“Oooh! This is the good spot!” I said, continuing to scrape that delicate area, as he started jumping up and down desperately while pleading.
“AH! NOT THERE! NOT THERE! PLEASE!”
“Not where? HERE?” I said, hastening my assault on the underside of the toes.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEE! PLEASE! NO! ANYWHERE BUT THERE!”
I lingered for a second, and then creeped back down the outer edge to the heels, where he returned to his machine-gun giggles. As I circled the right heel, my index and middle finger ticklishly walked up the center of the narrow part of his sole at which he bucked up and let out his most futile scream yet:
“HAAAAAAAA! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
“Ah-ha!” I said.
I stopped to give him a break, but he was laughing too much in anticipation. So I poised my index finger and wiggled all over every inch of this sensitive area, saying “kitchy kitchy koo! Kitchy kitchy koo!” over and over again. He went absolutely ape shit, as if he couldn’t believe something could tickle so much, as he pounded the bed with his fists, lapsed in complete silent laughter, with an occasional “No!” rasping out. I knew he couldn’t take much more, so I went for broke and did a five finger spider tickle alternating between the two arches, as he thumped his whole body against his bed and whispered a sincere, “Stop!”
I got off of him, and he lay there for a few minutes, returning to previous non-tickled condition. As he got up, another friend who was apparently looking for me, knocked on the door. We started talking, then someone came in to talk to Paul….and we parted. .
About an hour and a half later, I was hanging out in the kitchen, helping the host (a friend of mine) restock the beer coolers. Paul, who is now only wearing his green puffy pants, as he took the green torso off because it was too hot, comes up behind me and starts beating me with an inflatable club(which he borrowed from his friend who was dressed as a caveman.)
“You are mean! Mean! Mean! Mean!” he said, laughing as he beat me.
“Hey! OK! Ok! I’m sorry!” I said. Maybe he realized I was lying, because he continued to assault me.
He hit me hard over the head (didn’t hurt), “Evil bitch.” he grinned, “One of my worst spots too.”
I crept closer to him, “So there are other spots? I said, pinching his sides.
He squealed and jumped, “No! You evil thing get away from me!” he laughed, as I continued to pinch and prod him, as he tried to cover up his naked torso.
Paul’s older brother, who was outside the kitchen talking to someone, saw the action going on, and calmly entered the kitchen,
“Here. Let me help.” his brother said. He got behind Paul, and locked his arms behind him, giving me full access to Paul’s naked upper body.
“Get him good.” His brother prodded me.
I wiggled my fingers in front of Paul, “Koochee, koochee, koo!”
“No! No! Not fai-EEEEHEEEHEEEHEEEHEE!” Paul screamed as I started scraping my fingernails up and down his ribcage. Paul’s brother had a good lock on him, (his brother was a bodybuilder), and try as Paul might to just collapse on the floor, he couldn’t.
“See….if you minded your brother growing up, you wouldn’t be in this mess. Tickle tickle tickle!” I said spidertikling all over his upper belly, as Paul twisted with a fixed grin letting out squeals.
“Get his sides.” His brother suggested (don’t you just love older siblings?)
I pinched up and down his love handles, and Paul threw his head back and let out a guttural laugh, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STOP!”
“Stop what? This?” I said, as I started to spider tickle him on his sides, as Paul started jumping up and down, laughing his head off. I started to spider tickle all over the lower belly above his pant line, which proved to be just as ticklish as the narrow part of his soles and started a barrage of nonsense pleas, “PLEASE! DON’T! STOP!”
“All right, I won.t” I said, though somehow I think he meant something different.
His belly button was especially ticklish and he emitted a wolf like howl on every prod, pinch, and poke, which amused his brother and I a great deal. There was a lot of “Hey…watch this.” as I wiggled a finger into Paul’s bellybutton. “WHOOOOOOOO HOOHOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOO!” “Hey cool….do it again!” ) If his brother wasn’t there, and we weren’t in such an open place, I certainly would have reached down his pants and explored the lower belly, but as it was, his eyes were tearing from the forced laughter.
“You ticklish up north?” I said, and his eyes got huge, as he saw where I was going. With his brother holding him, I was only able to get an index finger wiggling into his naked armpits, but this caused him to lapse into silent laughter, trying all the more desperately to drop to the floor to get away. He was thrashing so much, his brother couldn’t hold onto him for much longer, so I finished with an all-out spider tickle assault on his sides, armpits, and bellybutton, until Paul’s brother let him go (or he broke free. Not sure which). .
Paul’s brother smiled at me, “That was payback for…I don’t know, something.”
Paul’s brother rustled Paul’s hair and Paul laughed good-natured and smacked him away. I playfully booted him in the ass, and with laughing eyes, he scowled at me, and give me the middle finger. I blew him a kiss, stuck out my tongue, and exited with the beer cooler.
I’ve gotten him multiple times since…so the story will continue soon.
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F/M Halloween Tickle
I went to huge Halloween party last year at a friend’s house. A massive event, well over 200 people in this huge house/mansion. I went dressed as Wonder Woman (if you knew me, you’d know how funny that concept is). There were two main rooms for the party….this large ballroom for the DJ and music, and this smaller room where a TV was set up and playing horror movies. So there was about 30 people or so in the TV room watching Halloween 2 and talking. I was standing in the back talking to my friend Paul who I haven’t seen in a while. He was dressed like the Hulk….who had on a padded green torso (to look like muscles) and padded green legs…his feet were bare with green body paint on the tops. (Yowzas).
The movie ended and everyone in the room left to return to the dance room, because Halloween 3 was coming on and no one should be subjected to that. =)
“You want to go dance?”
He sits on this couch/daybed contraption and starts rubbing his feet.
“Naw, I’m going to sit down for a while. I’ve got foot problems, and I’m not supposed to be standing or walking barefoot for a long time. But, how stupid would the Hulk look in a pair of orthopedic sneakers?” I think he has planter fascitis, or something. I don’t know…my mind was on other things. =)
“Lie down….I’ve been trained in massage.” (which is true…not part of an evil ploy. Fine, it was…but it was at least a truthful part of an evil ploy.)
He lies down on his stomach on the bed, “Don’t need to tell me twice.”
So I move to the end of the daybed/couch contraption and sit on his calves. His feet were hanging off the bed, so not to get any green paint on the furniture. When I touched his left sole he flinched a bit, but I started a very deep massage rubbing on both feet.
“Oh God….that feels good.” He said.
I continued that technique for a while and then very slightly lightened up my touch. He was still very relaxed, but when I applied the lighter touch on several “hot spots” his feet flexed, or he shifted slightly underneath me, but no protests to it. I lightened up my touch again, and he suddenly got very jumpy, and eventually let out a muffled giggle.
I stopped and laughingly said, “Maybe I should try a different technique.”
I grabbed hold of the top of his left foot and started dragging my five long nails up and down his soles.
“EEEEEEEE! EEEEEEHEEEHEEHEEEHEEEHEEEHEEHEE!” He squealed, twisting and turning underneath me.
“Ah-ha! Just what I thought! Hulk is ticklish!”
I moved my fingernails up down, and all around his very soft soles, as he squealed a twisted.
HEEEE! HEEEEE!HEEHEEEHEEEHEE! PLEEEEEEEASE! HEEHEEEHEE!”
“How powerful Wonder Woman would be if Hulk’s foes knew he’s ticklish.”
“HEEE! HEE! NO HE’S NOT!”
“Oh really?” I said, as I locked his feet together with my legs (the costume he was wearing was quite bulky and gave him no hope of twisting himself loose). I brought my other hand into the action as I started scraping both his soles. His squeals become higher pitched and his back arched.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEEE! PLEEEEASE! PLEEASSE! HEEEEEEE! HEEEHEEEHEEEEHEEHEE! STOP!”
.”I thought you said you weren’t ticklish.”
“HEEEHEEEHEEE! PLEASE! HEEEHEEEHEE!”
“Well, The Hulk says he isn’t ticklish, so I see no reason to stop.”
“He is! He is!”
I stopped and he continued giggling under me. He didn’t move, didn’t try to pull his feet away…just laid there, giggling in anticipation almost as if he was expecting (maybe wanting?) me to start again.
“You are really ticklish.” I commented (I’m good at stating the obvious)
“Heeheehee…I know.”
“Unfortunately, Wonder Woman loves a ticklish foe.”
I had no worries someone was going to burst in on us, because (thankfully) whoever left the room last closed the door assuming we actually wanted to watch Halloween 3, and the music was blaring so loud from the other room, that I doubt anyone would hear him anyway.
I bent forward a bit, clutching my thighs together, keeping his ankles in a leg lock, and used my forearm to bend his toes back. Which meant I wasn’t going to be able to get his toes (even though I knew they were horribly ticklish from my exploratory tickle), but that will be another day….
“No..hohohohohoho!” he protested before I even touched him.
Down to one hand, I alternated spider tickles on his heels, which immediately sent him into giggles.
“Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeeheeheeheehee!” He giggled, trying to twist, but having no luck wearing a bulky costume.
I continued this for a while, and his giggles got more desperate, possibly because he knew he was about to get it much worse.
I then crept down his outer edge of the foot, leaving the narrow part of his sole and arch (his most ticklish spots) for the end, and started a creeping spider tickle on the balls of the foot which caused him to burst out in desperate laughter.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA! STOP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
I continued on the balls for a while and then lightly scraped the bottom of his toes with my finger nails. He reacted with stunned silent laughter,
“Oooh! This is the good spot!” I said, continuing to scrape that delicate area, as he started jumping up and down desperately while pleading.
“AH! NOT THERE! NOT THERE! PLEASE!”
“Not where? HERE?” I said, hastening my assault on the underside of the toes.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEE! PLEASE! NO! ANYWHERE BUT THERE!”
I lingered for a second, and then creeped back down the outer edge to the heels, where he returned to his machine-gun giggles. As I circled the right heel, my index and middle finger ticklishly walked up the center of the narrow part of his sole at which he bucked up and let out his most futile scream yet:
“HAAAAAAAA! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
“Ah-ha!” I said.
I stopped to give him a break, but he was laughing too much in anticipation. So I poised my index finger and wiggled all over every inch of this sensitive area, saying “kitchy kitchy koo! Kitchy kitchy koo!” over and over again. He went absolutely ape shit, as if he couldn’t believe something could tickle so much, as he pounded the bed with his fists, lapsed in complete silent laughter, with an occasional “No!” rasping out. I knew he couldn’t take much more, so I went for broke and did a five finger spider tickle alternating between the two arches, as he thumped his whole body against his bed and whispered a sincere, “Stop!”
I got off of him, and he lay there for a few minutes, returning to previous non-tickled condition. As he got up, another friend who was apparently looking for me, knocked on the door. We started talking, then someone came in to talk to Paul….and we parted. .
About an hour and a half later, I was hanging out in the kitchen, helping the host (a friend of mine) restock the beer coolers. Paul, who is now only wearing his green puffy pants, as he took the green torso off because it was too hot, comes up behind me and starts beating me with an inflatable club(which he borrowed from his friend who was dressed as a caveman.)
“You are mean! Mean! Mean! Mean!” he said, laughing as he beat me.
“Hey! OK! Ok! I’m sorry!” I said. Maybe he realized I was lying, because he continued to assault me.
He hit me hard over the head (didn’t hurt), “Evil bitch.” he grinned, “One of my worst spots too.”
I crept closer to him, “So there are other spots? I said, pinching his sides.
He squealed and jumped, “No! You evil thing get away from me!” he laughed, as I continued to pinch and prod him, as he tried to cover up his naked torso.
Paul’s older brother, who was outside the kitchen talking to someone, saw the action going on, and calmly entered the kitchen,
“Here. Let me help.” his brother said. He got behind Paul, and locked his arms behind him, giving me full access to Paul’s naked upper body.
“Get him good.” His brother prodded me.
I wiggled my fingers in front of Paul, “Koochee, koochee, koo!”
“No! No! Not fai-EEEEHEEEHEEEHEEEHEE!” Paul screamed as I started scraping my fingernails up and down his ribcage. Paul’s brother had a good lock on him, (his brother was a bodybuilder), and try as Paul might to just collapse on the floor, he couldn’t.
“See….if you minded your brother growing up, you wouldn’t be in this mess. Tickle tickle tickle!” I said spidertikling all over his upper belly, as Paul twisted with a fixed grin letting out squeals.
“Get his sides.” His brother suggested (don’t you just love older siblings?)
I pinched up and down his love handles, and Paul threw his head back and let out a guttural laugh, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STOP!”
“Stop what? This?” I said, as I started to spider tickle him on his sides, as Paul started jumping up and down, laughing his head off. I started to spider tickle all over the lower belly above his pant line, which proved to be just as ticklish as the narrow part of his soles and started a barrage of nonsense pleas, “PLEASE! DON’T! STOP!”
“All right, I won.t” I said, though somehow I think he meant something different.
His belly button was especially ticklish and he emitted a wolf like howl on every prod, pinch, and poke, which amused his brother and I a great deal. There was a lot of “Hey…watch this.” as I wiggled a finger into Paul’s bellybutton. “WHOOOOOOOO HOOHOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOO!” “Hey cool….do it again!” ) If his brother wasn’t there, and we weren’t in such an open place, I certainly would have reached down his pants and explored the lower belly, but as it was, his eyes were tearing from the forced laughter.
“You ticklish up north?” I said, and his eyes got huge, as he saw where I was going. With his brother holding him, I was only able to get an index finger wiggling into his naked armpits, but this caused him to lapse into silent laughter, trying all the more desperately to drop to the floor to get away. He was thrashing so much, his brother couldn’t hold onto him for much longer, so I finished with an all-out spider tickle assault on his sides, armpits, and bellybutton, until Paul’s brother let him go (or he broke free. Not sure which). .
Paul’s brother smiled at me, “That was payback for…I don’t know, something.”
Paul’s brother rustled Paul’s hair and Paul laughed good-natured and smacked him away. I playfully booted him in the ass, and with laughing eyes, he scowled at me, and give me the middle finger. I blew him a kiss, stuck out my tongue, and exited with the beer cooler.
I’ve gotten him multiple times since…so the story will continue soon.
