Ten or so years ago at work I witnessed an interesting tickle. The perpetrator was an older (age 70) fellow named Neil, the victim an attractive young (20-something) blonde named Kathy.
Neil, Kathy and I were standing near Kathy's desk. She had her back to Neil and me. Neil tickled her from behind, getting her under-arms. Was Kathy ticklish? You bet!
Besides seeing this fetching lass get tickled, the other thing that amused me was her two-part reaction. Kathy hadn't seen who tickled her. At first she turned towards me, looking annoyed, as she thought I had tickled her. But seeing I was too far away to have reached her, Kathy realized it was Neil. Instantly, the resentment on her face vanished.
Kathy would have angered had I been the one who tickled her. But since it was Neil, it was okay. 😕
Tickling is as communicative a form of touch as any other, isn't it? Kathy felt comfortable with Neil tickling her but would have stared me down were it my tickling fingers upsetting her sensitive flesh.
Neil, Kathy and I were standing near Kathy's desk. She had her back to Neil and me. Neil tickled her from behind, getting her under-arms. Was Kathy ticklish? You bet!
Besides seeing this fetching lass get tickled, the other thing that amused me was her two-part reaction. Kathy hadn't seen who tickled her. At first she turned towards me, looking annoyed, as she thought I had tickled her. But seeing I was too far away to have reached her, Kathy realized it was Neil. Instantly, the resentment on her face vanished.
Kathy would have angered had I been the one who tickled her. But since it was Neil, it was okay. 😕
Tickling is as communicative a form of touch as any other, isn't it? Kathy felt comfortable with Neil tickling her but would have stared me down were it my tickling fingers upsetting her sensitive flesh.






