My thoughts raced to figure out what exactly Samantha meant by her comments. Did the tickling feel good? How good? Good, in what way? But I couldn’t bring myself to ask her any of these questions. So I just stood behind her… fingers stalled in the middle of her back… mouth slightly open in bamboozlement…
“Are we still playing?”
Sweet Christmas! I was so grateful that the question broke my trance that I nearly didn’t process its full meaning. Samantha was asking expectantly. Her tone betrayed her excitement. I responded, “Is there somewhere else I should try?”
“Umm… The ribs. But maybe don’t stay there as long. I do like breathing.”
Asked, and answered. Without another word, I slid my hands around her torso to her stomach. My fingertips flicked across the bare skin above the waistline of her pajama pants and made their way back to the tops of her hips. Samantha’s attempt to mute her giggles resulted in a long, breathy coo. For a few seconds, I shifted my focus to her obliques, catching the fabric of her tank top and using its texture to tickle up to her bottom ribs. Then, I began to thoroughly explore the base of her ribcage. As my fingers attacked with varying pressure and speed, Samantha’s laughter became less restrained. She quickly abandoned all efforts to subdue her reactions.
When it looked as if she was getting a little winded, I lessened the intensity of the tickling. I still wanted her to enjoy this game. Samantha would catch her breath after a moment, and I would resume probing her weak spots. Eventually, my hands climbed up the entirety of her ribcage around the outsides of her breasts, until I had again crossed from the fabric of her tank top onto the bare skin below her armpits. Once there, with just my index fingers, I gently traced the outlines of her underarms down to the exposed outer edges of her tits. Her laughter gradually subsided, and her breathing returned to normal. Samantha grinned from ear to ear when she turned her head to speak. I expected that she was itching for her turn to tickle me, so what she said surprised me. “Can you think of anywhere else you’d like to tickle?”
I figured having to maneuver around Samantha’s boobs while tickling her ribs and then feeling her bare skin again must have sparked a certain physical reaction in me. But it wasn’t until she volunteered for yet another round of tickling that I became very aware of a growing excitement in my gym shorts. Given that this was my cousin, who hopefully couldn’t see said reaction happening behind her, I played at being indecisive while thinking my way down. Baseball, Abbott & Costello, Nolan Ryan’s top pitching speed, the Goldfish snack jingle! …And I was once again at ease. I had to admit that I was having fun and that another round was tempting. It seemed like Samantha was really enjoying herself, too. But could I risk the recurrence of that reaction ruining our game?
As I now genuinely struggled for an answer to her question, Samantha offered her own suggestion. “I think my stomach needs some more attention.” And a new question fell out of my mouth… “Why should I tickle your stomach instead of getting your armpits again?” Samantha told me that the gentle, smooth strokes on her belly were very pleasant but not ticklish. She said that faster strokes with slightly more pressure were really ticklish. She said, “I want to see if we can find a mixture of the two feelings. Like, the way to make it ticklish and soothing.” The idea intrigued me. Boners be damned, I was curious enough to try it.
To be continued…
“Are we still playing?”
Sweet Christmas! I was so grateful that the question broke my trance that I nearly didn’t process its full meaning. Samantha was asking expectantly. Her tone betrayed her excitement. I responded, “Is there somewhere else I should try?”
“Umm… The ribs. But maybe don’t stay there as long. I do like breathing.”
Asked, and answered. Without another word, I slid my hands around her torso to her stomach. My fingertips flicked across the bare skin above the waistline of her pajama pants and made their way back to the tops of her hips. Samantha’s attempt to mute her giggles resulted in a long, breathy coo. For a few seconds, I shifted my focus to her obliques, catching the fabric of her tank top and using its texture to tickle up to her bottom ribs. Then, I began to thoroughly explore the base of her ribcage. As my fingers attacked with varying pressure and speed, Samantha’s laughter became less restrained. She quickly abandoned all efforts to subdue her reactions.
When it looked as if she was getting a little winded, I lessened the intensity of the tickling. I still wanted her to enjoy this game. Samantha would catch her breath after a moment, and I would resume probing her weak spots. Eventually, my hands climbed up the entirety of her ribcage around the outsides of her breasts, until I had again crossed from the fabric of her tank top onto the bare skin below her armpits. Once there, with just my index fingers, I gently traced the outlines of her underarms down to the exposed outer edges of her tits. Her laughter gradually subsided, and her breathing returned to normal. Samantha grinned from ear to ear when she turned her head to speak. I expected that she was itching for her turn to tickle me, so what she said surprised me. “Can you think of anywhere else you’d like to tickle?”
I figured having to maneuver around Samantha’s boobs while tickling her ribs and then feeling her bare skin again must have sparked a certain physical reaction in me. But it wasn’t until she volunteered for yet another round of tickling that I became very aware of a growing excitement in my gym shorts. Given that this was my cousin, who hopefully couldn’t see said reaction happening behind her, I played at being indecisive while thinking my way down. Baseball, Abbott & Costello, Nolan Ryan’s top pitching speed, the Goldfish snack jingle! …And I was once again at ease. I had to admit that I was having fun and that another round was tempting. It seemed like Samantha was really enjoying herself, too. But could I risk the recurrence of that reaction ruining our game?
As I now genuinely struggled for an answer to her question, Samantha offered her own suggestion. “I think my stomach needs some more attention.” And a new question fell out of my mouth… “Why should I tickle your stomach instead of getting your armpits again?” Samantha told me that the gentle, smooth strokes on her belly were very pleasant but not ticklish. She said that faster strokes with slightly more pressure were really ticklish. She said, “I want to see if we can find a mixture of the two feelings. Like, the way to make it ticklish and soothing.” The idea intrigued me. Boners be damned, I was curious enough to try it.
To be continued…
