Saga of Sonja
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This past experience write-up does involve tickling, although coming back to the start having just written it, this very much turned into me writing up my first few serious sexual experiences with some linked tickling thrown in. So sorry in advance that it’s not super tickling heavy (I wish that it were, but…). If this needs a clear warning, it gets pretty explicit.
I’d kind of already decided I’d lose my virginity during Freshers week well in advance. Young, 18, my sexual experiences until that point had been limited to providing a few handjobs, and receiving some fairly lacklustre fingering in return. That, and endless amounts of masturbation from weird places I ended up on the internet (partly where my tickling kink arose from). I’d had fantasies around rather taboo areas before starting uni- one in particular of either seducing or benign secluded by an older lecturer archetype, someone refined, a salt and pepper beard (I’m less so inclined these days, but as a late teen I had A LOT of fantasy about older men).
It was no surprise looking back then that my first serious sexual experience occurred with Tom. A 26 year old postgrad student who was just finishing his MSC, he and a couple of his friends were being paid during freshers week to… I’m not exactly sure what, but something about ensuring new students felt welcomed (lol). We met at the SU, when he and his two friends (one was called Pete, the other I can’t for the life of me recall) sat with myself, Jenna (mentioned in a prior story), and a girl called Pip. Bribing us with free drinks, the three sat amongst us, and I was soon chatting with Tom, taken in with his easy good, maturer looks, dark hair, and refined beard. Not super tall, but taller than me (for what that’s worth). I learned he and Pete would soon be leaving the UK for Australia, with their MSCs in something linked to mining/engineering giving them salaries that were/are likely more than I’d ever make.
Alcohol flowed readily, with the boys seemingly having been given a budget to provide free drinks to freshers (I’m not certain entirely how true this was, but either way we got free drinks, which took the form of some spirits and coke, as well my first jager bomb that I mostly spilled down my top). As Tom and I talked, I found us getting closer. I can’t remember exactly what he said, but it was very much something along the lines of me being ambiguous ethnic or racially exotic, which prompted me to playfully kick him in the shins. He pretended it hurt more than it did, and threatened to throw my shoes over the balcony if I did it again (it’s a bit hard to explain, but the SU had an upper bar area which we were at, which overlooked this floorspace which was a bar/dancefloor/hall on different occasions, and which was mostly being unused that evening).
Now, being very drunk, I couldn’t resist kicking him again (I can’t recall if this was immediately after), and to my slight surprise, Tom wasn’t joking, and in a very fluid movement reached down, scooped my legs up by my ankles with one arm, and pried one of my sneakers off with his free hand with some minor resistance from me.
“Wait, don't actually!†I half-warned and half-laughed, as he held my shoe over the balcony. He dropped it, and I heard it thud below. I began trying to kick him with my other foot, and he wrestled that shoe off of me, although just dropped that one on the floor in front of us.
“Aren’t you going to get it back,†he teased. Now, as much as I cared about my old sneaker, my drunk, flirting brain knew I was in a good position to provoke this hot older guy into tickling my feet, which rested on his lap. I had socks on, thin black ankle socks if I recall, with his fingers very close to my soles.
“Nah, not when you can easily give me a foot massage now,†I said. “Just don’t throw my socks over too.†(I’ve always been quite self-conscious of my feet for no particular reason, so it was balancing this with wanting him to tickle me). He laughed, made some snarky comment, and did begin rubbing his thumb on the spot beneath my toes. It felt good, not especially tickly, but I wanted to put that idea in his head, so I squirmed my feet a little and looked like I was trying to hold back a smile.
It worked. “You’re not ticklish are you,†he grinned, placing his arm to hold my ankles in place.
“No,†I said, wiggling my legs enough to give the impression the question was trying to make me pull away, without actually doing so.
“Let’s see,†he said, his gorgeous smile sending a twinging pang through my loins and heart. He began lightly using two fingers to tickle the arches of my feet, and this time my reactions were entirely genuine as I dissolved into a fit of giggles within seconds. “Yeah, you are ticklish,†he laughed, as his fingers sent shockwaves of laughter out of me, and I leaned into the faux-leather seating further as I inadvertently tried pulling away and kicking him.
“Shut up,†I laughed, lightly clawing the fabric of the seat, a small part of me worried I’d fall off.
Tom then rolled up one of my socks slightly, and drew circles on my heel.
“That doesn’t really tickle,†I said. My heels have never been as remotely sensitive as the rest of my feet.
“What about here,†he said, in such a seductive way that if he’d followed it up by asking me to follow him to the bathroom and screw me over a toilet seat I wouldn't have said no.He rolled up my sock further, and scratched the center of my arch, sending me into a fresh wave of laughter.
“Okay, okay,†I laughed, the semi-public tickling drawing me into a sudden state of embarrassment, “you win.â€
He slowed the tickling down, his finger drawing a figure of eight on my skin. “Oh, what do I win,â€
“The chance to buy me more drinks,†I said though continued giggles.
The alcohol was provided. At some point when he was at the bar I did walk to the downstairs area in my socks, to retrieve the lost shoe. Tom was back at the table when I’d returned, and threatened to throw the one already there down. “Would you rather lose the shoe here or on my bedroom floor?†he said. My heart froze then somersaulted in that second I took to process that.
One thing did indeed lead to another, and at what was probably around midnight I found myself in the bedroom of his flat. It wasn't quite my salt and pepper beard uni lecturer, but damn, I felt so adult, alone with this really hot guy, who had his own flat rather than uni accommodation. It was on his bed that I lost my virginity- I recall him standing over me, his erect penis swaying slightly with what felt at the time like the length and girth of a baseball bat. I’ll never forget that nervous buzz of anticipation I felt, lying naked on my back, wondering how that could possibly get inside me, despite how wet I was by that point. He managed, of course, and my first memories of sex was this amazing sensation of being pushed open from within, of being filled, and made whole in a sort of pressure-inducing way. Of stretching pains, and escalating pleasure, as each thrust made my insides feel fuller and warmer, like an external fire that had been lit and burned with both sizzling sparks and stung me but hit me with warmth. Of a heavy presence of top of me, in the semi darkness, making me feel oddly safe, between flesh and bed. I’d like to say I came, that fireworks were set off, but the edge to the experience and perhaps my nervousness held that back, although the sensation of each thrust, and especially knowing that he’d ejaculated- that my naked body had driven him to that- felt amazing. We lay side by side after, and almost childishly I lightly played with his now semi-flacid cock, batting it side to side as he stroked my hair.
I slept little that night, partly due to my own unfilled arousal keeping me hot and heavy, and partly from us spooning, me enjoying the sensation of his cock pressed against my ass cheeks. Morning came, and once he awoke his hands were soon at my breasts, turning me on further, before his hand went south, and two of his fingers entered me, not exactly driving me to orgasm but getting me horny as hell. I threatened to stay in his bed all day, and he told me “he’d see about that,†and his hands quickly moved to my sides, kneading the horribly ticklish areas between my ribs and hips that sent me into a cackling fit of laughter that made me squirm up against him even more.
“I hadn’t forgotten you were ticklish,†he laughed with me, and I imagine I was soon cackling horribly as his fingers found my absolute worst spot just north of my hip bone that catapulted me into wild spasms.
“Mercy,†I cried out before long, and he stopped. I could tell he was fully erect at this point.
“You know, I think you’re a rather submissive girl, aren’t you,†he whispered teasingly in my ear. I was so fucking aroused I didn’t deny it. He told me to kneel on the floor, and without much thought I did, naked, and he stood in front of me, the same. I’d never given a blowjob before, and didn’t really know how to, but I felt like I couldn’t say no, and wanted to be the one to make him climax again. If you’ve never given one, it’s hard to state how big a penis can look when you’re staring up at it, especially in your own nakedness. I must have done an okay job, as within a couple of minutes of me gagging, having my throat tickled, and trying to remember to breathe, I felt him shudder and an oddly satisfying salty taste fill my mouth.
We parted ways for the day there after showering individually and dressing. He didn’t return the oral favor, and I was disappointed there, but was far too shy with my whole sexual awakening just realized that I didn’t ask. We saw each other several more times across the week, fucking at least twice more, with me hitting a small orgasm on the third time and me ruining the moment a bit by bleeding on him (which he didn’t mind, but I did). He didn’t tickle my feet again, but did go for my sides several times when I was being sassy, tickling me into an apology for something I said at one point, and knowing he could make me laugh and squeal with minimal effort. Having this older guy semi-frequently reduce me to a laughing squirming mess just drove me wild. Now, he definitely wasn’t the best or actually nicest person overall, and to be honest, as a few people pointed out, it was a little sus him and his other mid/late 20s friends hitting up 18 year olds, but I didn’t care there, and did take a while to get over him when he left within the next week or so for his new life.
Anyway, that’s my (fucking long) write up of something that didn’t involve too much tickling, but as I said, I’m trying to get back into the flow of my own external creative writing more, so this long-winded account of my tickle-linked loss of virginity is a way of helping. Hope that didn’t come across as too disappointing with the tickling, or tooooo personal, haha. Let me know what you think, as I have somewhat similiar-ish experiences with others to maybe write up some time
I’d kind of already decided I’d lose my virginity during Freshers week well in advance. Young, 18, my sexual experiences until that point had been limited to providing a few handjobs, and receiving some fairly lacklustre fingering in return. That, and endless amounts of masturbation from weird places I ended up on the internet (partly where my tickling kink arose from). I’d had fantasies around rather taboo areas before starting uni- one in particular of either seducing or benign secluded by an older lecturer archetype, someone refined, a salt and pepper beard (I’m less so inclined these days, but as a late teen I had A LOT of fantasy about older men).
It was no surprise looking back then that my first serious sexual experience occurred with Tom. A 26 year old postgrad student who was just finishing his MSC, he and a couple of his friends were being paid during freshers week to… I’m not exactly sure what, but something about ensuring new students felt welcomed (lol). We met at the SU, when he and his two friends (one was called Pete, the other I can’t for the life of me recall) sat with myself, Jenna (mentioned in a prior story), and a girl called Pip. Bribing us with free drinks, the three sat amongst us, and I was soon chatting with Tom, taken in with his easy good, maturer looks, dark hair, and refined beard. Not super tall, but taller than me (for what that’s worth). I learned he and Pete would soon be leaving the UK for Australia, with their MSCs in something linked to mining/engineering giving them salaries that were/are likely more than I’d ever make.
Alcohol flowed readily, with the boys seemingly having been given a budget to provide free drinks to freshers (I’m not certain entirely how true this was, but either way we got free drinks, which took the form of some spirits and coke, as well my first jager bomb that I mostly spilled down my top). As Tom and I talked, I found us getting closer. I can’t remember exactly what he said, but it was very much something along the lines of me being ambiguous ethnic or racially exotic, which prompted me to playfully kick him in the shins. He pretended it hurt more than it did, and threatened to throw my shoes over the balcony if I did it again (it’s a bit hard to explain, but the SU had an upper bar area which we were at, which overlooked this floorspace which was a bar/dancefloor/hall on different occasions, and which was mostly being unused that evening).
Now, being very drunk, I couldn’t resist kicking him again (I can’t recall if this was immediately after), and to my slight surprise, Tom wasn’t joking, and in a very fluid movement reached down, scooped my legs up by my ankles with one arm, and pried one of my sneakers off with his free hand with some minor resistance from me.
“Wait, don't actually!†I half-warned and half-laughed, as he held my shoe over the balcony. He dropped it, and I heard it thud below. I began trying to kick him with my other foot, and he wrestled that shoe off of me, although just dropped that one on the floor in front of us.
“Aren’t you going to get it back,†he teased. Now, as much as I cared about my old sneaker, my drunk, flirting brain knew I was in a good position to provoke this hot older guy into tickling my feet, which rested on his lap. I had socks on, thin black ankle socks if I recall, with his fingers very close to my soles.
“Nah, not when you can easily give me a foot massage now,†I said. “Just don’t throw my socks over too.†(I’ve always been quite self-conscious of my feet for no particular reason, so it was balancing this with wanting him to tickle me). He laughed, made some snarky comment, and did begin rubbing his thumb on the spot beneath my toes. It felt good, not especially tickly, but I wanted to put that idea in his head, so I squirmed my feet a little and looked like I was trying to hold back a smile.
It worked. “You’re not ticklish are you,†he grinned, placing his arm to hold my ankles in place.
“No,†I said, wiggling my legs enough to give the impression the question was trying to make me pull away, without actually doing so.
“Let’s see,†he said, his gorgeous smile sending a twinging pang through my loins and heart. He began lightly using two fingers to tickle the arches of my feet, and this time my reactions were entirely genuine as I dissolved into a fit of giggles within seconds. “Yeah, you are ticklish,†he laughed, as his fingers sent shockwaves of laughter out of me, and I leaned into the faux-leather seating further as I inadvertently tried pulling away and kicking him.
“Shut up,†I laughed, lightly clawing the fabric of the seat, a small part of me worried I’d fall off.
Tom then rolled up one of my socks slightly, and drew circles on my heel.
“That doesn’t really tickle,†I said. My heels have never been as remotely sensitive as the rest of my feet.
“What about here,†he said, in such a seductive way that if he’d followed it up by asking me to follow him to the bathroom and screw me over a toilet seat I wouldn't have said no.He rolled up my sock further, and scratched the center of my arch, sending me into a fresh wave of laughter.
“Okay, okay,†I laughed, the semi-public tickling drawing me into a sudden state of embarrassment, “you win.â€
He slowed the tickling down, his finger drawing a figure of eight on my skin. “Oh, what do I win,â€
“The chance to buy me more drinks,†I said though continued giggles.
The alcohol was provided. At some point when he was at the bar I did walk to the downstairs area in my socks, to retrieve the lost shoe. Tom was back at the table when I’d returned, and threatened to throw the one already there down. “Would you rather lose the shoe here or on my bedroom floor?†he said. My heart froze then somersaulted in that second I took to process that.
One thing did indeed lead to another, and at what was probably around midnight I found myself in the bedroom of his flat. It wasn't quite my salt and pepper beard uni lecturer, but damn, I felt so adult, alone with this really hot guy, who had his own flat rather than uni accommodation. It was on his bed that I lost my virginity- I recall him standing over me, his erect penis swaying slightly with what felt at the time like the length and girth of a baseball bat. I’ll never forget that nervous buzz of anticipation I felt, lying naked on my back, wondering how that could possibly get inside me, despite how wet I was by that point. He managed, of course, and my first memories of sex was this amazing sensation of being pushed open from within, of being filled, and made whole in a sort of pressure-inducing way. Of stretching pains, and escalating pleasure, as each thrust made my insides feel fuller and warmer, like an external fire that had been lit and burned with both sizzling sparks and stung me but hit me with warmth. Of a heavy presence of top of me, in the semi darkness, making me feel oddly safe, between flesh and bed. I’d like to say I came, that fireworks were set off, but the edge to the experience and perhaps my nervousness held that back, although the sensation of each thrust, and especially knowing that he’d ejaculated- that my naked body had driven him to that- felt amazing. We lay side by side after, and almost childishly I lightly played with his now semi-flacid cock, batting it side to side as he stroked my hair.
I slept little that night, partly due to my own unfilled arousal keeping me hot and heavy, and partly from us spooning, me enjoying the sensation of his cock pressed against my ass cheeks. Morning came, and once he awoke his hands were soon at my breasts, turning me on further, before his hand went south, and two of his fingers entered me, not exactly driving me to orgasm but getting me horny as hell. I threatened to stay in his bed all day, and he told me “he’d see about that,†and his hands quickly moved to my sides, kneading the horribly ticklish areas between my ribs and hips that sent me into a cackling fit of laughter that made me squirm up against him even more.
“I hadn’t forgotten you were ticklish,†he laughed with me, and I imagine I was soon cackling horribly as his fingers found my absolute worst spot just north of my hip bone that catapulted me into wild spasms.
“Mercy,†I cried out before long, and he stopped. I could tell he was fully erect at this point.
“You know, I think you’re a rather submissive girl, aren’t you,†he whispered teasingly in my ear. I was so fucking aroused I didn’t deny it. He told me to kneel on the floor, and without much thought I did, naked, and he stood in front of me, the same. I’d never given a blowjob before, and didn’t really know how to, but I felt like I couldn’t say no, and wanted to be the one to make him climax again. If you’ve never given one, it’s hard to state how big a penis can look when you’re staring up at it, especially in your own nakedness. I must have done an okay job, as within a couple of minutes of me gagging, having my throat tickled, and trying to remember to breathe, I felt him shudder and an oddly satisfying salty taste fill my mouth.
We parted ways for the day there after showering individually and dressing. He didn’t return the oral favor, and I was disappointed there, but was far too shy with my whole sexual awakening just realized that I didn’t ask. We saw each other several more times across the week, fucking at least twice more, with me hitting a small orgasm on the third time and me ruining the moment a bit by bleeding on him (which he didn’t mind, but I did). He didn’t tickle my feet again, but did go for my sides several times when I was being sassy, tickling me into an apology for something I said at one point, and knowing he could make me laugh and squeal with minimal effort. Having this older guy semi-frequently reduce me to a laughing squirming mess just drove me wild. Now, he definitely wasn’t the best or actually nicest person overall, and to be honest, as a few people pointed out, it was a little sus him and his other mid/late 20s friends hitting up 18 year olds, but I didn’t care there, and did take a while to get over him when he left within the next week or so for his new life.
Anyway, that’s my (fucking long) write up of something that didn’t involve too much tickling, but as I said, I’m trying to get back into the flow of my own external creative writing more, so this long-winded account of my tickle-linked loss of virginity is a way of helping. Hope that didn’t come across as too disappointing with the tickling, or tooooo personal, haha. Let me know what you think, as I have somewhat similiar-ish experiences with others to maybe write up some time
