My new girlfriend at school’s name is Sarah and she’s a petite, five-foot tall brunette with a fair complexion. She wears her hair long, so that the ends just fall over the mounds in her clothing that indicate where her small breasts are hidden. I love it when she smiles because she’s one of those girls whose upper lip spreads really wide and goes up so that all her white front teeth and part of her upper gums show, especially when she laughs. She always wears this really dark red lipstick, too, which contrasts her fair white skin.
Actually, she’s kind of a Goth girl, but I get the feeling that she’s pretty new at it. She wears mostly black and a lot of dresses, skirts, and stockings. Best of all, though, is that she’s really kind and loves to make out with me. We’ve only been going out for a week and a half, but she already lets me touch her everywhere, even under her clothes.
Last weekend I found out something new about her, though. After a party Friday night, Sarah, four of our friends, and I piled into a car to drive to my house. Jeff was driving and Rob was riding shotgun. I sat in the middle in the back, with Sarah on my lap and Jessica and Matt on either side of us. We were packed in like a bunch of sardines.
It’s pretty cold this time of year, so we were all wearing our winter jackets. Sarah’s still sticking to the look, so she had on a long thick velvety skirt with black stockings underneath. (They were only knee-highs I had found out earlier.) It was about a thirty-minute drive, so after the car warmed up, Sarah slipped off her shoes and stuck her stocking feet on top of the armrests in the front seat.
When my hands had warmed up, with Sarah sitting on my lap, I started to let my hands roam again. I slowly moved my hands under her coat and found the separation between her blouse and skirt. With the bulk of all the jackets, it was not obvious to anyone else in the car. Under her loose fitting blouse, my hands found the bare skin of her slim torso.
It was a thrill to be able to touch her soft skin beneath all that heavy clothing, so reveling in the delicate feeling, I lightly brushed the tips of my fingers across her tummy and over her belly-button. It was almost like the muscles in her trim midsection involuntarily contracted, suddenly sucking the skin of her tummy away from my fingers. I also heard Sarah quickly intake a breath and hold it.
Her tummy was ticklish, but she was trying not to let me know it, for some reason. I decided to play with her and started lightly tickling her there, scribbling all my digits repetitively over the sensitive skin of her tummy.
“QUIT IT!” she exclaimed, pushing down on her bulky winter coat. She pressed my hands hard into her abdomen, trying to stop the light tickles since she was unable to grab at them through all her clothing.
“Awwe, are you ticklish Sarah?” I teased her.
“No!” she said with a tone that I think was intended to make me feel stupid for asking. “It’s just annoying.”
“Oh, yeah?” I retorted and moving my hands to either side of her waist under her coat, I spread my fingers wide and began giving her thin rib cage a very determined tickle massage.
Sarah instinctively clamped her arms over my squeezing digits, which unfortunately brought her no relief this time. I had her bare torso clamped in a tickle grip that would have ended any tickle fight. The petite brunette squealed and started laughing hysterically. And I don’t mean that as a cliché exaggeration, either. I mean, I’ve heard girls laugh really hard when tickled, but when I started rib-tickling Sarah underneath all her clothes, she got like frantic, or something. I guess she’s really, REALLY, ticklish. She was laughing incredibly hard in response to my ticklish squeezes, but on top of that, it was like she had started laughing just because I had revealed her complete weakness to being tickled.
She went berserk, flashing that big toothy smile of hers as she laughed and squealed. She straitened her stocking covered legs and then ended up kicking both Jeff and Rob in the front seat as she tried to cope with my tickling hands under her coat and blouse.
“What the hell are you doing back there?” Rob shot back at us. I stopped tickling Sarah.
“Sarah says she’s not ticklish, but I think she’s lying.” I told him. Sarah was still laughing and trying to grab my arms to pull my hands out from under her clothes.
“You’re not ticklish, Sarah?” he asked her.
She tried to regain her composure. Unable to completely hide that wide smile of hers, she puffed up her chest, stuck her nose in the air and said, “No, I’m not!” I don’t think she was used to admitting it publicly, and had decided to continue with the lie. The giggles that followed her false statement, however, showed that she was well aware that no one would believe her.
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I did this?” Rob said back to her. And he grasped one of her thin black stocking covered ankles and scribbled the fingertips of his other hand right in the peak of her arch.
I guess her feet are really ticklish because she went crazy when she couldn’t pull her foot away. In all fairness, though, the guy was seriously tickling her foot. He wasn’t messing around. He had like a death grip on her ankle and I could see that he was purposefully tickling her arch through her nylon. A couple of times, he even dug his fingers through the fabric into the trench under her little toes and tickle her there. It was definitely more than she cared for, because I could feel the intensity of her struggle to pull her foot away. She was flailing her arms as she tried to break Rob’s grip with her other stocking foot and she kept hitting and elbowing Jessica and Matt sitting next to us. That’s when the whole thing took a turn for the intense.
Becoming unintentionally involved, Jessica and Matt both grabbed one of Sarah’s flailing arms and started to pull them up and out away from her body. With my hands still under her coat and blouse (though I had relented from tickling her, enjoying instead the show of her having her foot tickled), and her arms now under control and being pulled out, when Sarah heard Jennifer tell me to tickle her underarms, the little fair skin brunette started fighting the four of us like her life depended on it.
There was no way she could break Rob’s determined grip on her ankle as he tickled away in the front seat, but she was initially able to pull her elbows back down to her sides for a moment, trapping my hands. Matt and Jessica did not give up so easily, however, and took the challenge. Weak from tickling induced laughter, Sarah was unable to overpower both of them for long and first one arm and then the other was slowly pulled outward and upward. I could tell Sarah knew she’d lost the struggle because she started laughing harder and harder the higher they were able to raise her elbows.
“Tickle her underarms!” Jennifer ordered me again.
“NOOOO!!!!” she protested through her laughter.
I couldn’t resist her vulnerability. Even though it seemed like a torturous thing to do, I started saying, “Tickle, tickle, tickle…” in a kind of baby voice to tease her as I started scampering my fingers lightly over the skin on her sides again, beginning an upward motion towards her underarms. Sarah’s face tensed up like she was preparing to receive a shot at the doctor’s office. Her brows furrowed and she squeezed her eyes shut, but a broad smile remained sprawled from one cheek to the other as she tried to contain her laughter now that she knew she couldn’t escape. But as I tickled up next to the sides of her little breasts and approached the perimeter of her armpits, she could barely hold it in anymore and started to laugh through the nose on her clenched face.
I didn’t spare her any longer and went for her pits. First I started to spider tickle both of her bare underarms with gentle fingertip tickles. She keeps them shaven and they felt really soft and delicate.
“Oh my God! Stop, stop, stahahahahahahah…” She was really ticklish there.
I’d never tickled a girl’s underarms before when she couldn’t pull her arms down to protect herself, but I’d wondered before what it would be like. Poor Sarah acted like it was a nightmare come true. I grabbed both of her sides and started to stroke around the centers of her ticklish hollows with just my index fingers. I traced imaginary circles and poked lightly at her sensitive skin. She started laughing so hard that I could hear that she was loosing her breath.
“Are you ticklish?” I asked her again as I continued to tickle-touch her underarms and Rob kept dragging his fingers over the bottom of her foot.
“YES! YES! STOP! STAHAHAHAHAHA…,” She pleaded and we finally decided to spare the poor ticklish girl.
It’s fun, though. I like having a ticklish girlfriend. I always find excuses to punish her with tickles. And sometimes I don’t even need one
.
Disclaimer: this story not true.
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/soleshine/files/Video Clips/Recently Uploaded Clips/
Actually, she’s kind of a Goth girl, but I get the feeling that she’s pretty new at it. She wears mostly black and a lot of dresses, skirts, and stockings. Best of all, though, is that she’s really kind and loves to make out with me. We’ve only been going out for a week and a half, but she already lets me touch her everywhere, even under her clothes.
Last weekend I found out something new about her, though. After a party Friday night, Sarah, four of our friends, and I piled into a car to drive to my house. Jeff was driving and Rob was riding shotgun. I sat in the middle in the back, with Sarah on my lap and Jessica and Matt on either side of us. We were packed in like a bunch of sardines.
It’s pretty cold this time of year, so we were all wearing our winter jackets. Sarah’s still sticking to the look, so she had on a long thick velvety skirt with black stockings underneath. (They were only knee-highs I had found out earlier.) It was about a thirty-minute drive, so after the car warmed up, Sarah slipped off her shoes and stuck her stocking feet on top of the armrests in the front seat.
When my hands had warmed up, with Sarah sitting on my lap, I started to let my hands roam again. I slowly moved my hands under her coat and found the separation between her blouse and skirt. With the bulk of all the jackets, it was not obvious to anyone else in the car. Under her loose fitting blouse, my hands found the bare skin of her slim torso.
It was a thrill to be able to touch her soft skin beneath all that heavy clothing, so reveling in the delicate feeling, I lightly brushed the tips of my fingers across her tummy and over her belly-button. It was almost like the muscles in her trim midsection involuntarily contracted, suddenly sucking the skin of her tummy away from my fingers. I also heard Sarah quickly intake a breath and hold it.
Her tummy was ticklish, but she was trying not to let me know it, for some reason. I decided to play with her and started lightly tickling her there, scribbling all my digits repetitively over the sensitive skin of her tummy.
“QUIT IT!” she exclaimed, pushing down on her bulky winter coat. She pressed my hands hard into her abdomen, trying to stop the light tickles since she was unable to grab at them through all her clothing.
“Awwe, are you ticklish Sarah?” I teased her.
“No!” she said with a tone that I think was intended to make me feel stupid for asking. “It’s just annoying.”
“Oh, yeah?” I retorted and moving my hands to either side of her waist under her coat, I spread my fingers wide and began giving her thin rib cage a very determined tickle massage.
Sarah instinctively clamped her arms over my squeezing digits, which unfortunately brought her no relief this time. I had her bare torso clamped in a tickle grip that would have ended any tickle fight. The petite brunette squealed and started laughing hysterically. And I don’t mean that as a cliché exaggeration, either. I mean, I’ve heard girls laugh really hard when tickled, but when I started rib-tickling Sarah underneath all her clothes, she got like frantic, or something. I guess she’s really, REALLY, ticklish. She was laughing incredibly hard in response to my ticklish squeezes, but on top of that, it was like she had started laughing just because I had revealed her complete weakness to being tickled.
She went berserk, flashing that big toothy smile of hers as she laughed and squealed. She straitened her stocking covered legs and then ended up kicking both Jeff and Rob in the front seat as she tried to cope with my tickling hands under her coat and blouse.
“What the hell are you doing back there?” Rob shot back at us. I stopped tickling Sarah.
“Sarah says she’s not ticklish, but I think she’s lying.” I told him. Sarah was still laughing and trying to grab my arms to pull my hands out from under her clothes.
“You’re not ticklish, Sarah?” he asked her.
She tried to regain her composure. Unable to completely hide that wide smile of hers, she puffed up her chest, stuck her nose in the air and said, “No, I’m not!” I don’t think she was used to admitting it publicly, and had decided to continue with the lie. The giggles that followed her false statement, however, showed that she was well aware that no one would believe her.
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I did this?” Rob said back to her. And he grasped one of her thin black stocking covered ankles and scribbled the fingertips of his other hand right in the peak of her arch.
I guess her feet are really ticklish because she went crazy when she couldn’t pull her foot away. In all fairness, though, the guy was seriously tickling her foot. He wasn’t messing around. He had like a death grip on her ankle and I could see that he was purposefully tickling her arch through her nylon. A couple of times, he even dug his fingers through the fabric into the trench under her little toes and tickle her there. It was definitely more than she cared for, because I could feel the intensity of her struggle to pull her foot away. She was flailing her arms as she tried to break Rob’s grip with her other stocking foot and she kept hitting and elbowing Jessica and Matt sitting next to us. That’s when the whole thing took a turn for the intense.
Becoming unintentionally involved, Jessica and Matt both grabbed one of Sarah’s flailing arms and started to pull them up and out away from her body. With my hands still under her coat and blouse (though I had relented from tickling her, enjoying instead the show of her having her foot tickled), and her arms now under control and being pulled out, when Sarah heard Jennifer tell me to tickle her underarms, the little fair skin brunette started fighting the four of us like her life depended on it.
There was no way she could break Rob’s determined grip on her ankle as he tickled away in the front seat, but she was initially able to pull her elbows back down to her sides for a moment, trapping my hands. Matt and Jessica did not give up so easily, however, and took the challenge. Weak from tickling induced laughter, Sarah was unable to overpower both of them for long and first one arm and then the other was slowly pulled outward and upward. I could tell Sarah knew she’d lost the struggle because she started laughing harder and harder the higher they were able to raise her elbows.
“Tickle her underarms!” Jennifer ordered me again.
“NOOOO!!!!” she protested through her laughter.
I couldn’t resist her vulnerability. Even though it seemed like a torturous thing to do, I started saying, “Tickle, tickle, tickle…” in a kind of baby voice to tease her as I started scampering my fingers lightly over the skin on her sides again, beginning an upward motion towards her underarms. Sarah’s face tensed up like she was preparing to receive a shot at the doctor’s office. Her brows furrowed and she squeezed her eyes shut, but a broad smile remained sprawled from one cheek to the other as she tried to contain her laughter now that she knew she couldn’t escape. But as I tickled up next to the sides of her little breasts and approached the perimeter of her armpits, she could barely hold it in anymore and started to laugh through the nose on her clenched face.
I didn’t spare her any longer and went for her pits. First I started to spider tickle both of her bare underarms with gentle fingertip tickles. She keeps them shaven and they felt really soft and delicate.
“Oh my God! Stop, stop, stahahahahahahah…” She was really ticklish there.
I’d never tickled a girl’s underarms before when she couldn’t pull her arms down to protect herself, but I’d wondered before what it would be like. Poor Sarah acted like it was a nightmare come true. I grabbed both of her sides and started to stroke around the centers of her ticklish hollows with just my index fingers. I traced imaginary circles and poked lightly at her sensitive skin. She started laughing so hard that I could hear that she was loosing her breath.
“Are you ticklish?” I asked her again as I continued to tickle-touch her underarms and Rob kept dragging his fingers over the bottom of her foot.
“YES! YES! STOP! STAHAHAHAHAHA…,” She pleaded and we finally decided to spare the poor ticklish girl.
It’s fun, though. I like having a ticklish girlfriend. I always find excuses to punish her with tickles. And sometimes I don’t even need one
.Disclaimer: this story not true.
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/soleshine/files/Video Clips/Recently Uploaded Clips/
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I didn't expect to see this one again. It went a long time with no response. I guess it's not one of my better ones. Thanks very much DT!
