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The Ex-Girlfriend II

ticklebrowse26

TMF Expert
Joined
Jan 12, 2006
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Again, thank you for the kind words with regards to my prior post:

http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=117964

I'm glad others are able to enjoy my experiences.

I'm happy that PiedPiper liked my post -- I've been a big, big fan of your posts about "Peggy" and her ravenous appetite.

Likewise, Nontlk, I loved reading posts about your former ladyfriend who worked intermittently as an escort.

Peachp, I don't think I ever considered myself a writer of women's erotica, and I appreciate your very encouraging, graphically detailed words.

Now, let's get back to Samantha.
------------------------------------------

It is difficult to summarize Samantha without going on about her idiosyncrasies. At the age of twenty three, this girl had accomplished herself professionally in very different spheres of her life: catering and graduate school.

As she once explained to me during our time together, Samantha was successful because she refused to accept that anyone could tell her that she couldn't do what she wanted. Standing at five feet and five inches with shoulder length brown hair and fair skin, it was striking to see such a cute and otherwise prissy girl bite her lower lip out of stubborness. One second she was getting her biweekly pedicure, the next she was on the phone berating someone for buying the wrong lettuce.

The other facet of Samantha that made her so successful in her professional life was her ability to quickly learn what was necessary to carry out a task above and beyond the expected standard. During one of her catering jobs at a black tie affair, this girl learned ahead of time which was the eclectic host's favorite salad dressing and mail-ordered it express.

It was these same two qualities of stubborness and adaptability that allowed Samantha to devastate me well after we had broken up, after I had started dating another girl.

I had met Kerry in a running club. My intentions were never dishonorable. I truly had joined the running club to learn more trails around the city. Kerry was new to the Southeast and had joined for the same reason. She was blonde, petite at about five feet and two inches and was somewhat younger than myself at twenty two years.

I liked Kerry. Kerry was a good girl. Crazy about Elvis. Loved horses. And America too. She was the sort of girl that never stopped smiling. She carried granola bars in her pockets to give to the homeless. Everything about this girl screamed wholesome.

And she was very attractive. She sported a small, pert chest with toned legs.

I asked her out to dinner the second time we went running. I made her my famous spaghetti and meatballs. She made apple pie.

And she was very ticklish. Not to beat the "foot tickling" horse to death, but she was excrutiatingly ticklish on her feet. About as much as Samantha's feet, maybe. Or maybe more. I really hated comparing because that meant I was thinking about Samantha, which was never a good thing for my sanity.

How to compare? Sitting on Kerry calves on my bed a few dates later while doing mean things to her upturned soles, her laugh was higher in pitch and punctuated by her playfully jabbing my side. I would stop because I felt bad for Kerry when her voice would take on a pleading quality.

Samantha's laugh, on the other hand, had been more of a desperate, uncontrolled cackle interrupted by cursing. I never stopped with Samantha, especially if I felt I was pushing her over her own edge. Maybe it was because I felt that she deserved it more.

Kerry's feet were a dainty, narrow size seven with every toenail painted red or pink by herself, once a month. Samantha's were a more voluptuous size nine, always lotioned, always pedicured with not a callus to see for miles around.

Though this is not a foot board, my seduction away from Kerry by Samantha necessitates those descriptions.

It took a lot of gentle persuasion for Kerry to allow herself to be tied down. Looking at me with the most adorable green eyes I had ever seen, Kerry asked me one night over a bottle of red wine, sincerely, if I would ever physically hurt her while she was tied down. I reassured her that I wouldn't, and that I wouldn't do anything that would make her uncomfortable.

And I didn't. I wanted Kerry to trust me and like me and allow me to tease her ticklish tummy, feet and sides. So to put her at ease about her first bondage experience I tied her down using her own sheets instead of my velcro cuffs, and when I tickled her I did it slowly and as gently as I could.

Dragging her my fingernails over her sides and tight tummy with her arms tied to separate parts of the bed frame (no posts), this blonde princess shuddered with pleasure between giggles. I continued doing this for ten minutes or so before sliding down between her unbound legs and allowing my tongue to work its magic on her pink rose. I never let up on my gentle tickling of her sides and I brought her to a sweaty climax. I didn't go near her feet lest I scare her away with her own ticklishness.

She liked it, I think. Kerry -- who owned a labrador retriever, who didn't wear make-up and who had pictures of her brothers all around her apartment -- hugged me, whispered "Thank you," and cuddled next to me in sleep. She was happy. I was content. Being with Kerry made me feel good about myself.

I stopped calling Samantha soon after Kerry and I became more intimate in our relationship. It wasn't that I didn't think about Samantha but rather that I felt I had a good future with Kerry.

Slowly my tickling of Kerry became more intense and on one night I spent a solid ten minutes kneading her sides and tummy as well as her titillating the soles of her feet while she was tied down. Her inner thighs were not ticklish but I made up for it with the rest of her body. The high pitched laughter became a delicious music to my ears.

I didn't ever tell Kerry, overtly, that I had a tickle fetish. It was a playful but well-included activity between us. And if Kerry did not embrace the raw sexuality of my tickling fetish as Samantha had done, Kerry did not stop me from tickle torturing her into conniptions.

A month and a half into my relationship with Kerry, it was Samantha's birthday. And I was invited to her celebration.

I didn't discuss it with Kerry. I was of the opinion that my friends were my friends regardless of my relationship status and that I could go a friend's birthday party without having to explain it to a girlfriend.

So I went.

It was at Samantha's house. As was her style, plenty of tasty hors d'oeuvres. Plenty of hard liquor. Plenty of beer. Plenty of wine. Samantha always lived it up.

She was dressed in a little black dress with black heels. Lipstick. Make-up. Smooth, silky very visible legs ending in feet encased in aforementioned black heels. Her hair was around her shoulders, shiny like she was out of a revlon commercial. Samantha was very cute to begin with, but on her birthday, she looked smoking hot.

When she saw me she yelled out my name in glee, smiling.

The she skipped over, carrying a precariously balanced goblet of red wine with her right hand. She wrapped her left arm around me and said hello, punctuating her greeting with a finger in my underarm, one of my more ticklish spots. No one else around us could tell that her finger was lodged in my armpit.

And I pretended not to feel her drunken finger wander about my armpit as I exchanged pleasantries with Samantha.

"How have you BEEN??? It's been ages since I've seen you. What the hell is wrong with you anyway, not returning my calls...??!!" She didn't sound hurt but I could tell that she had noticed my absence. Which felt good.

"I've been fine. Just working hard right now. I'm sorry I haven't had the chance to respo..." it was tough finishing my sentence when she was clearly trying to elicit some sort of a reaction from my underarm. But I was steadfast and held strong to my neutral facial expression. She glared at me playfully.

I could smell the same old perfume on her that I smelled so many other times, which now functioned as a small reminder of what I had had before. Although, in this party with a football game blaring on the tv and half of georgia's male population of reproductive age present, her perfume also reminded me of what OTHERS had had before too.

"Second half is starting," yelled out one of the meatheads from the densely populated sofa. Samantha's red-nailed finger gave one last wiggle as she smiled and ran back to watch the game. I helped myself to a beer and watched the proceedings in the living room.

Samantha had been a flirt all throughout our relationship, and tonight was no different. Sardined between several large ogre-like men watching the football game, Samantha deposited her drink on the coffee table in front of her. She continued to maintain eye contact with me.

She then slid her bare feet out of her heels and placed them on the coffee table in front of her and her adjacent centurions. Still with the eye contact. Still smiling at me.

My cell phone vibrated at that moment. Kerry's number popped up on the screen and I remember pressing the silence button, quickly.

I'd be a liar if I said I watched the football game. I tried to make it seem like I was following the scoreline.

And I was able to follow the scoreline because of Samantha, my brunette fair-skinned brown hair brown eyed ex-girlfriend.

Samantha clearly was cheering for the other side. This was not subtle by any stretch of the imagination. When the home team threw for an incomplete, Samantha raised her arms high in the air and turned to the mammoth next to her, yelling "In YOUR face."

To my knowledge Samantha never watched football or was even remotely interested in the visiting team.

But tonight she goaded the home fans in her living room on her birthday.

Verbally as well as physically. Reaching out with her hands after a play, she poked the bearded man on her left, clearly intending to tickle.

"Not so hot, your team, huh? How about switching over?" She taunted.

He was not ticklish. He brushed her hand off and shook her head with a smile forming. His beer never left his right hand. Amazing how some guys could hold onto a beer while in exploding cars or earthquakes.

Anyhow, the large, tall guy on her right, however, WAS ticklish. And when Samantha wearing her little black dress and now barefoot repeated her theatrics just seconds later on him, he reacted with a gasp of air.

And Samantha paid for it.

I saw a blur of hands wrap themselves around her waist as she protested playfully, this time breaking her eye contact with me.

I knew exactly what was coming.

My decision to leave the living room and walk into the dining room was instantaneous. Almost visceral.

As I turned to leave the living room I could hear her familiar involuntary laughter beginning, her voice breaking through to tease her tormentors about their hapless home team. Walking out of the living room I could tell that other guys were taking an interest in her laughter and adjusting their positions on the couch to watch.

I don't know where they got her, exactly. I suspect her sides, at the very least. If there were any fetishists in the group they would have been more thorough, but I just couldn't stay to watch.

From the kitchen, nursing my beer, I could hear everything very clearly. Samantha had gotten herself into a little more monkey business than she could handle, I thought. Many hands and fingers on one begging ex-girlfriend.

But she had asked for it. Right?

From the desperate tone in her voice I suspected that someone had discovered her inner thighs. And if a particular friend of hers was around -- Matt -- then the soles of her feet would get a severe torture. I remember grappling with wanting to hear them give it her harder and wanting them to stop.

I could hear "Come on guys...", and "Let me up" being yelled from the living room.

They stopped eventually and the sounds of the game became audible. I decided to make my exit through the living room at this point, having heard enough of my ex-girlfriend being tickle tortured close to her breaking point.

As I passed by the living room I turned to look at Samantha, who again made eye contact with me but was not smiling. Her cheeks were flushed red. Her amazing body was face up, spread out across the laps of three guys, with her face turned towards the game. Her hair was tousled. One guy had a hand resting on her side. The second had his hand resting on her hip. The third had her bare feet on his lap but he had his arms crossed in front of him.

I returned home. Aroused but mostly shell-shocked at the revived memories of this girl.

The next day she called me in the early afternoon and I answered.

"Hey." I was in my house and trying to ready a project. Busy as I was, though, I still separated myself from the laptop and sat on the bed to talk to her.

"Hey you. How are you?"

"Fine. You?"

"I'm good.... are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine. Seriously." And I was. I clearly missed Samantha but had allowed Kerry into my heart. I was starting to fall for Kerry. Last night had been a hard fall into the past but I was back in one piece.

"You left so quickly." She sounded concerned.

"I know... I had to."

"Okaaay," she responded.

There was a pause.

Then she said three fatal words.

"I'm coming over." Click.

Fifteen minutes later there was a loud banging at my door.

I opened it and there stood the formidable Samantha, clad in a long blue coat with blue jeans, a red shirt and flip flops.

I averted my eyes from her toes and breasts and made as pure as eye contact as I could.

"How are you?" I asked.

"Great!" And with that lighthearted expression she smiled and walked in past the door and past myself and into the bedroom.

I followed her. This girl was behaving ridiculously, I said to myself.

On the bed, I sat next to her.

With confidence brimming, Samantha took up my own socked feet in her arms and placed them on her lap, massaging them.

It felt fantastic. No other girl had ever massaged my feet.

"I just had a weird feeling when you left the party that you didn't have a good time," she said as her red nailed fingers kneaded and massaged my own sensitive soles.

This was dangerous territory. Samantha knew how to tickle me better than anyone else on this planet, and she knew very well that my weak spot was my feet.

Trying to focus on something other than my feet and her hands in the middle of the afternoon while on my bed, I reminded myself that Kerry liked to drop in unannounced.

"I did have good time," I replied with a catch in my voice.

"I know you did," Samantha made eye contact. Her flip flops had long ago left her peds.

"So what's the trouble?" I asked, maybe a little flirtaceously.

"No trouble," she smiled again.

Then, as quickly as it took to write this sentence, she took off my right sock, leaving it hanging by my toes.

"Tell me something," she said, lazily dragging her index finger up my right foot.

"Which foot tickles more?" Her nails dragged evenly across both soles. Slowly.

I didn't answer.

"The one with the socks or the one without the socks?"

I shuddered. I was trying with every nerve ending in my body to not betray Kerry with my own ticklishness.

Under my breath I muttered, "The one without socks."

"Of course," she responded, as if I had just told her that Thanksgiving always fell on thursday, "the one without socks."

Her arms gripped my ankles tighter.

Then Samantha removed my second sock and went for the kill, while continuing to bare her own ticklish feet and ample cleavage.

"Does Kerry tickle you like I do?" She smiled arrogantly, almost as if she were genuinely curious.

I didn't reply.

Then I called Samantha a bitch.

Samantha calmly placed my ankles down on the bed. I thought she would leave. She shuffled away from me on the bed.

"Bitch? I'll show you 'Bitch'."

With a determined gaze on her preened eyes and eyebrows, she placed her beautifully pedicured soles on my face, rubbing the skin on my face and shoving one of her big toes in my mouth. I didn't try to fight her.

Then I felt her fingernails back on my own feet.

"This is what a bitch does," she continued.

If this seems too farcical to be true, then know that this is what she had done to me for a year and a half while dating me to get her own way. This girl had learned from me what to do, what to say, and when to say it. Doing this to me was like riding a bicycle for her -- once she learned how to manipulate my own fetishes to her own ends she would always know how.

"You have no idea how much they tickled me last night. On these feet. On my hips. On my underarms." Her feet continued to rub my face as she drew figure eights on my own sensitive soles.

She explained how the game had gone for the visitors and when she cheered at the end, the three ogres held her in place and carried out their just punishment.

"They were so mean. The one on my sides tickled harder than you ever tickled me. The one on my hips was an asshole and kept trying to touch my privates while torturing my hips... but I let him touch. The one on my feet made me wish I never got pedicures." I imagined their meaty fingers tickling my cocktease ex-girlfriend beyond what she had calculated as her limit. I imagined them getting horny with this little tart laughing on their lap, touching her breasts and butt as she tried in all vain to get out of the very predicament she had made for herself. Whatever they did to her, she deserved it.

"And it won't be the last time I get tickled by other men. That's what makes me a bitch."

Samantha came over the next day and the day after that and the day after that. She had a lot to tell me about what ticklings she had endured at the hands of other men. I stopped seeing Kerry. Samantha and I got back together for another year or so.

So she seduced me away from a perfectly nice girl. I wish that some of this were false and that I had been a bigger person and resisted Samantha. I wish, on some level, that Samantha wouldn't have been so adept at breaking down my defenses.

But alas, such is the power of the ticklish ex-girlfriend.

[email protected]
 
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I hear ya!

Bro, don't worry about it. I was reading this story and hoping that you got back with Samantha. I would have done the same thing. This fetish that we have is so powerful that when you have a connection with someone like that with the fetish, it is absolutely irresistable. I, myself, at this very moment am thinking about getting back with my ex because of the same damn thing. Great stories man. Please keep em coming. Just curious, did Samantha ever describe to you what those guys had done to her that day when you were in the kitchen? Would love to hear that. Thanks so much for sharing
 
I'm sorry...

If anyof my ex's had tried that with me, I wouldn't have been able to be around them. I would have to stay away, or start plotting their demise. Seriously. For some people, that sort of behavior from someone they cared so deeply for is a betrayal of a personal confidence.

Disclaimer:
No ex-girlfriends were harmed in the making of this reply.

"Joe"
 
Awesome story!

What about writing a book,:) ??
The story is nice and so is the way you describe and tell it,absolutely great!!

You really should think about it;-)
 
I would say that she was a bitch.

Great story, thanks for sharing it. :D
 
When I broke up with my ex-boyfriend who I loved so much, I would have gone back to him if he asked or if he started flirting like that.

The only difference is when he broke up with me I became really depressed and ended up moving and avoiding him and removing all traces of him from my life. So there was no chance.

How did the other girl take it? Did she know you ended up with her again? How long were you with Samantha the second time?

You don't need to answer if you don't want.

Katje.
 
Again, thank you for the kind words with regards to my prior post:

http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=117964

I'm glad others are able to enjoy my experiences.

I'm happy that PiedPiper liked my post -- I've been a big, big fan of your posts about "Peggy" and her ravenous appetite.
---------------------------
--Another outstanding tale and outstanding story-telling effort tb,..... You're a breath of fresh air in the True Stories forum,...... I hope you have lots of stories to tell. And you've given me an idea, too. That's the best artistic trade-off of all.....
 
TB-26, that was one outstanding post. :smilestar:smilestar:smilestar:smilestar

Excellent descriptions. Remarkably well written. I felt myself turned on, then jealous, then turned on yet again... only to be severely disappointed in how it all worked out. (Not disappointed in the story, but in how you got f*cked over in the end.) :bat:

I look forward to reading more of your posts in the near future.
 
Amazing, man, wow. What a tease. She DESERVES to get tickled, bro.
 
...

Thanks for your encouraging responses.

I realize that to some the ending or Samantha's behavior was not pleasing, but if I had changed it in my telling then it would not have been accurate.

To Eagle44d, Samantha did elaborate at a later time with respect to what happened to her in the living room. I will include this in my next installment, which won't be for a little while since work seems to be taking off. Even by her own criteria the tickling got way out of hand.

To Katje, I told Kerry right away that I couldn't be in a relationship with her because of my feelings for Samantha. Kerry was remarkably nice about it and wished me well, reminding me that she wanted me to be happy whether it was with her or with someone else. Again, Kerry was always a sweetheart. To answer your other question I dated Samantha for another year more after we got back together. Then it fell apart for good. Sorry to hear about your own post-breakup blues.

I know this story and the previous one painted Samantha as an absolute manipulator of men. And while this was true, I do have to give the girl credit for being a very loving girlfriend in other moments.

To everyone else, I appreciate your comments!
 
The Living Room

Hey brother, hope you get a chance to get into detail about what those guys did to Samantha in the living room that day after you left the party. Once again, great posts. Looking forward to reading your next one.
 
ticklebrowse

Being a writer consists of having a way with words,..... and you have it. I am all admiration.
 
Samantha sounds like she would be amazing fun to be with so not surprising you got back with her. Do you have any pictures of here bare feet by any chance? I would love to see the feet that you luckily got to play with
 
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