My boyfriend & I had been fooling around at my place when my parents were out of town on week, and I let him stay the night. We didn't actually have sex but clothes weren't involved, i'll say that much. Anyway, he doesn't have a class in the morning, but I do, so he had to wake me up to go to school. He tried to persuade me by promising to walk with me since it was so nice out, to buy me candy on the way there (best breakfast ever) and to do the laundry for the two of us while I was in class. When none of his attempts worked, he literally went into my closet.
"What're you doing?" I asked him.
"Dressing you." he informed me, stepping back out of the closet with a pair of my jeans that he loved and a tank top. He started rifling through my drawers to find underwear and smirked at me, asking if I could handle putting my own clothes on or if we were doing things the hard way. I just pouted and curled up under the blankets. He ripped off the covers and pull my panties on, then struggled with my bra for about five minutes before threatening me to sit still or he'd just put the shirt on without a bra and send me outside in public. After that he started putting on my socks. My feet aren't that ticklish, but I played it up anyway, giggling at even the slightest tickle - he apologized every time with a roll of his eyes. He got my pants up (somehow! - they're skinnies. I can hardly put them on myself without a struggle.) and I rolled up into a ball to resist him putting my shirt on.
"I'll tickle you." He threatened.
"No, you wont." I replied, knowing that just saying that made him resist the urge to.
"Then put the shirt on." He laughed. I just shook my head and rolled up into the fetal position. He tried tickling my sides but that just made me squeal and curl up even tighter. He slid his fingers around my waist and down my stomach and started squeezing my thighs - THAT had the reaction he was looking for, because I burst out laughing and kicked my legs out, fully stretched, to get away. He pulled the shirt on properly and did a little victory dance while I mumbled about how unfair it all was.
As we tried to leave I stretched my arms out and held my place firmly in the doorframe to stop from having to leave. He sighed in almost defeat, then reached up and tickled my ribs - and not the usual boyfriend-tickle-attack of a blunt set of wriggling fingers digging in, it was extremely gentle and extremely surprising. "Let goooooo" he was practically cooing, gently scratching his fingers over the material of my shirt. It was the best feeling ever. Giggles were bubbling up from my mouth and I was shaking my head from side to side, trying to keep my grip on the doorframe. The whole situation was probably a lot sexier in my mind than he had planned. After a moment or two he smirked. "Fine then." his hands shot upward and dug into my armpits, making me literally shriek and step forward through the door into the front yard, giggling like a maniac.
He walked me down to the campus and I spent the rest of my day full of classes daydreaming about that morning.
"What're you doing?" I asked him.
"Dressing you." he informed me, stepping back out of the closet with a pair of my jeans that he loved and a tank top. He started rifling through my drawers to find underwear and smirked at me, asking if I could handle putting my own clothes on or if we were doing things the hard way. I just pouted and curled up under the blankets. He ripped off the covers and pull my panties on, then struggled with my bra for about five minutes before threatening me to sit still or he'd just put the shirt on without a bra and send me outside in public. After that he started putting on my socks. My feet aren't that ticklish, but I played it up anyway, giggling at even the slightest tickle - he apologized every time with a roll of his eyes. He got my pants up (somehow! - they're skinnies. I can hardly put them on myself without a struggle.) and I rolled up into a ball to resist him putting my shirt on.
"I'll tickle you." He threatened.
"No, you wont." I replied, knowing that just saying that made him resist the urge to.
"Then put the shirt on." He laughed. I just shook my head and rolled up into the fetal position. He tried tickling my sides but that just made me squeal and curl up even tighter. He slid his fingers around my waist and down my stomach and started squeezing my thighs - THAT had the reaction he was looking for, because I burst out laughing and kicked my legs out, fully stretched, to get away. He pulled the shirt on properly and did a little victory dance while I mumbled about how unfair it all was.
As we tried to leave I stretched my arms out and held my place firmly in the doorframe to stop from having to leave. He sighed in almost defeat, then reached up and tickled my ribs - and not the usual boyfriend-tickle-attack of a blunt set of wriggling fingers digging in, it was extremely gentle and extremely surprising. "Let goooooo" he was practically cooing, gently scratching his fingers over the material of my shirt. It was the best feeling ever. Giggles were bubbling up from my mouth and I was shaking my head from side to side, trying to keep my grip on the doorframe. The whole situation was probably a lot sexier in my mind than he had planned. After a moment or two he smirked. "Fine then." his hands shot upward and dug into my armpits, making me literally shriek and step forward through the door into the front yard, giggling like a maniac.
He walked me down to the campus and I spent the rest of my day full of classes daydreaming about that morning.
