KITTLETOWN TWO
by Max Speer
CHAPTER SEVEN
Miss Sherman
The pretty teachers giggled as they drank their coffee, ate their bagged snacks, and talked about students, husbands, boyfriends, and just about anything they could cram into the span of a 15 minute recess.
"Hey, Cindy," yelled a young brunette to a pretty, petite teacher with lovely blonde hair and fair complexion. "They getting to you, today?"
"No," smiled the woman, "So far, so good."
The kids referred to this petite princess of a woman as 'Miss Sherman'. Since she arrived at Kittletown, a little over a year ago, she had been the recipient of multiple tickle-attacks by her young students. One reason was that she was the new teacher. The other reason, and probably the best, is that she is simply adorable; with the sweetest disposition. She is also wickedly ticklish, and simply cannot fight back once tickled.
One day, Buddy gave in to a tremendous urge to tickle Cindy Sherman. He was called up to the blackboard, but as she wrote, Buddy, from his lower prospective, glanced up at the soft, delicacy of his teacher's bare underarm. It was too much to take, since he had had fantasies about her the entire day and night before.
Buddy reached up and tickled his sensitive teacher's extremely ticklish underarm. The students went into a frenzy and rushed the poor woman, sending her into tickling hysterics down to the carpet. The other teachers had to pry little fingers off the hysterical Cindy Sherman.
The brunette teacher went back to her friends. "I swear, that Cindy gets tickled more than all of us put together."
"That's because she has no control of her kids," interjected one teacher.
"No," retorted the brunette, whose name was Sara, "that's because she has no control. Period!"
"Isn't there a parent/teacher meeting tonight?" asked Cindy.
"Yeah," said Bill. "Gonna be a real pisser."
"What do you mean?" asked Cindy, quietly.
Bill had noticed, standing next to her, that Cindy was drinking her tea with her right hand. Her left arm was propped on a high window sill affording him a clear view of her outstretched underarm. Her sleeveless dress, the official 'uniform' of all Kittletown teachers, and all females for that matter, bared her soft arms to their fullest.
"Because, my little Cindy..." Bill began as he strummed a single finger up her upper, inner arm, and into her soft armpit. The result of which caused Cindy to jerk her arm down, giggle, and spill a little of her tea, all in one motion. Bill continued.
"Because, it always ends up being a total tickle orgy."
Bill's reference to the parent/teacher meeting as a 'tickle orgy' proved hysterical to Sara and the others. They laughed without reserve, only serving to confuse Cindy further.
"Don't listen to him," Sara said, rising and putting down her empty cup, "Bill's nothing but a flirt."
"Oh," said Cindy, looking down, embarrassed.
"You do have the softest, most ticklish underarms I have ever experienced."
Cindy didn't know what to say to that. "Thank you," was all she could think of.
"Are you ticklish everywhere?'
Cindy looked over at the other teachers who smiled and looked away, rolling their eyes.
"Yes, I guess so, "was her soft answer.
"Tell me," he insisted softly.
Bill moved closer to her and ran that same finger up and down the length of her bare arm. It was now down at it's side so he settled for the soft, outer arm. Cindy was deliciously cute and devilishly ticklish; the perfect combo in his mind. He was feeling is pants pulling tightly in the crotch. Cindy's fair complexion and soft, fair hair gave her an angelic look.
"Well, let's see, "she said softly. "Under my arms, and my ribs, my tummy, oh and my feet are very ticklish."
"Oh yeah?" Bill took her teacup. She released it from her thin, delicate fingers. He pulled her hair off of her face with a gentle sweep of the back of his hand. Cindy looked up at him demurely, and her crystal, blue eyes sparkled for a second.
Then, deliberately but gently, Bill moved her backward against the wall. He took both of her wrists and raised her arms out to the sides, letting her hands rest on the high window sill.
Cindy was an absolute beauty! Her hands sat daintily on the window sill revealing two of the softest, most ticklish underarms he had ever seen.
It was almost too good to tickle. Bill could've just watched her, posed like that for hours. But he didn't. There was only another minute or so until he had to get back to class.
Bill moved closer to her and whispered in her ear.
"I know why the kids love to tickle you. Oh, Cindy, you are a fabulous woman." Cindy swooned inwardly, but stood still. "I'm going to tickle you now."
"Please, don't tickle me."
"Why?"
"Because I'm too ticklish. It's torture!"
Bill ran his fingers up her thin sides, barely touching the soft fabric of her dress. Cindy felt a chill rise up in her and she hunched her shoulders up slightly. He let his fingers lightly play 'piano' up her ribs, she giggled slightly, and then he let them rest on the armholes of her sleeveless dress. This was the point of no return.
He always felt that thrill of feeling the rough, fabric of the armholes, only to dip onto the softness of the armpits. The contrast was enough to make him shoot through the roof.
Bill played with the stitching of her armholes. Cindy felt a brush of his knuckle on her smooth skin and winced. The electrifying sensations of tickling shot through her.
Finally, unable to stand the tension anymore, Bill slid his finger down into the soft, sensitivity of her outstretched armpits. He gently played his fingers in those soft hollows.
Cindy lost it completely. She shrieked a shriek that rose in pitch until it exploded in laughter. Immediately her arms came down, closing his dreaded fingers inside.
Bill loved the softness, and the reaction he got from this lovely teacher. He continued to wriggle and Cindy screamed in high pitched giggles.
Bill was now against her and began to feel an orgasm rising. He closed his eyes and let the feeling of his fingers tickling her warm underarms, along with the feminine giggling take him to that place where nothing matters but sensation.
He backed up and pulled his fingers out of her armpits. She didn't give in easily since the fear of opening her arms was greater.
Once released, Cindy still giggled and rubbed her newly tickled underarms. Bill had a glaze to his eyes that Cindy had seen many times before.
Embarrassed, she picked up some papers she had put down earlier, and walked out.
Bill watched her go; her hips swayed gently in her light cotton dress. He saw the sexy, ticklish spots behind her knees and dreamed of a time that he could tie her down and tickle those two magnificent feet of hers.
by Max Speer
CHAPTER SEVEN
Miss Sherman
The pretty teachers giggled as they drank their coffee, ate their bagged snacks, and talked about students, husbands, boyfriends, and just about anything they could cram into the span of a 15 minute recess.
"Hey, Cindy," yelled a young brunette to a pretty, petite teacher with lovely blonde hair and fair complexion. "They getting to you, today?"
"No," smiled the woman, "So far, so good."
The kids referred to this petite princess of a woman as 'Miss Sherman'. Since she arrived at Kittletown, a little over a year ago, she had been the recipient of multiple tickle-attacks by her young students. One reason was that she was the new teacher. The other reason, and probably the best, is that she is simply adorable; with the sweetest disposition. She is also wickedly ticklish, and simply cannot fight back once tickled.
One day, Buddy gave in to a tremendous urge to tickle Cindy Sherman. He was called up to the blackboard, but as she wrote, Buddy, from his lower prospective, glanced up at the soft, delicacy of his teacher's bare underarm. It was too much to take, since he had had fantasies about her the entire day and night before.
Buddy reached up and tickled his sensitive teacher's extremely ticklish underarm. The students went into a frenzy and rushed the poor woman, sending her into tickling hysterics down to the carpet. The other teachers had to pry little fingers off the hysterical Cindy Sherman.
The brunette teacher went back to her friends. "I swear, that Cindy gets tickled more than all of us put together."
"That's because she has no control of her kids," interjected one teacher.
"No," retorted the brunette, whose name was Sara, "that's because she has no control. Period!"
"Isn't there a parent/teacher meeting tonight?" asked Cindy.
"Yeah," said Bill. "Gonna be a real pisser."
"What do you mean?" asked Cindy, quietly.
Bill had noticed, standing next to her, that Cindy was drinking her tea with her right hand. Her left arm was propped on a high window sill affording him a clear view of her outstretched underarm. Her sleeveless dress, the official 'uniform' of all Kittletown teachers, and all females for that matter, bared her soft arms to their fullest.
"Because, my little Cindy..." Bill began as he strummed a single finger up her upper, inner arm, and into her soft armpit. The result of which caused Cindy to jerk her arm down, giggle, and spill a little of her tea, all in one motion. Bill continued.
"Because, it always ends up being a total tickle orgy."
Bill's reference to the parent/teacher meeting as a 'tickle orgy' proved hysterical to Sara and the others. They laughed without reserve, only serving to confuse Cindy further.
"Don't listen to him," Sara said, rising and putting down her empty cup, "Bill's nothing but a flirt."
"Oh," said Cindy, looking down, embarrassed.
"You do have the softest, most ticklish underarms I have ever experienced."
Cindy didn't know what to say to that. "Thank you," was all she could think of.
"Are you ticklish everywhere?'
Cindy looked over at the other teachers who smiled and looked away, rolling their eyes.
"Yes, I guess so, "was her soft answer.
"Tell me," he insisted softly.
Bill moved closer to her and ran that same finger up and down the length of her bare arm. It was now down at it's side so he settled for the soft, outer arm. Cindy was deliciously cute and devilishly ticklish; the perfect combo in his mind. He was feeling is pants pulling tightly in the crotch. Cindy's fair complexion and soft, fair hair gave her an angelic look.
"Well, let's see, "she said softly. "Under my arms, and my ribs, my tummy, oh and my feet are very ticklish."
"Oh yeah?" Bill took her teacup. She released it from her thin, delicate fingers. He pulled her hair off of her face with a gentle sweep of the back of his hand. Cindy looked up at him demurely, and her crystal, blue eyes sparkled for a second.
Then, deliberately but gently, Bill moved her backward against the wall. He took both of her wrists and raised her arms out to the sides, letting her hands rest on the high window sill.
Cindy was an absolute beauty! Her hands sat daintily on the window sill revealing two of the softest, most ticklish underarms he had ever seen.
It was almost too good to tickle. Bill could've just watched her, posed like that for hours. But he didn't. There was only another minute or so until he had to get back to class.
Bill moved closer to her and whispered in her ear.
"I know why the kids love to tickle you. Oh, Cindy, you are a fabulous woman." Cindy swooned inwardly, but stood still. "I'm going to tickle you now."
"Please, don't tickle me."
"Why?"
"Because I'm too ticklish. It's torture!"
Bill ran his fingers up her thin sides, barely touching the soft fabric of her dress. Cindy felt a chill rise up in her and she hunched her shoulders up slightly. He let his fingers lightly play 'piano' up her ribs, she giggled slightly, and then he let them rest on the armholes of her sleeveless dress. This was the point of no return.
He always felt that thrill of feeling the rough, fabric of the armholes, only to dip onto the softness of the armpits. The contrast was enough to make him shoot through the roof.
Bill played with the stitching of her armholes. Cindy felt a brush of his knuckle on her smooth skin and winced. The electrifying sensations of tickling shot through her.
Finally, unable to stand the tension anymore, Bill slid his finger down into the soft, sensitivity of her outstretched armpits. He gently played his fingers in those soft hollows.
Cindy lost it completely. She shrieked a shriek that rose in pitch until it exploded in laughter. Immediately her arms came down, closing his dreaded fingers inside.
Bill loved the softness, and the reaction he got from this lovely teacher. He continued to wriggle and Cindy screamed in high pitched giggles.
Bill was now against her and began to feel an orgasm rising. He closed his eyes and let the feeling of his fingers tickling her warm underarms, along with the feminine giggling take him to that place where nothing matters but sensation.
He backed up and pulled his fingers out of her armpits. She didn't give in easily since the fear of opening her arms was greater.
Once released, Cindy still giggled and rubbed her newly tickled underarms. Bill had a glaze to his eyes that Cindy had seen many times before.
Embarrassed, she picked up some papers she had put down earlier, and walked out.
Bill watched her go; her hips swayed gently in her light cotton dress. He saw the sexy, ticklish spots behind her knees and dreamed of a time that he could tie her down and tickle those two magnificent feet of hers.
