bookworm289
Registered User
- Joined
- Aug 7, 2009
- Messages
- 32
- Points
- 0
It was my first session with a Ben, a cunning ticklephile. When arriving at his apartment last Friday he requested to take a shower. I sat on the couch reading magazines to help pass the time until he dried off, threw on some comfortable clothing and sat next to me.
He immediately began to poke and scamper his fingers over my tummy and sides. I could barely focus on the pictures or writing in the magazine I was reading. I kept squirming, hoping he'd stop but I knew he wouldn't. Despite not ever having a session with him, I sensed Ben would be a pretty merciless tickler.
After tormenting my upper body for some time, I tried to find a comfortable way to sit on the couch. This led to the inevitable foot tickling. Ben grabbed hold of my ankles, put my soles in his lap and began to massage and tickle them. Trying to escape his grasp was difficult. After some time, we made a short trip over to his bed where he tickled me senseless.
From underarms to ribs, sides and tummy. From my thighs to knees, calves to ankles and feet, he found almost every ticklish spot I have. He used baby oil wherever he desired, teasing me with his fingers, digging in to my sensitive underarms. He took my helpless feet in his arms and mercilessly tortured the tops, sides and especially toes. My toes are probably the most ticklish spot on my feet. He made sure to get them good.
He later used arm restraints so I really can't escape his tickle happy fingers. All I could do was giggle, squirm and plead for him to stop. I began to feel as though I was losing it. My body sensitive and sore, wondering when he'll stop but part of me secretly not wanting to.
Once he found my thighs there was no going back. Squeezing my upper thighs caused me to buck and arch my back in the attempt to stop him. Ben was not having that. He wanted to watch me laugh, fully enjoying teasing my sensitive skin.
Throughout the session I called out "blue" four times. There was just so much I could take and he knew that. He'd often verbally tease me, asking me to recite the alphabet backwards or say, "tickle, tickle tickle" which only made it all harder to stand. I could barely remember my name at some points.
By the end I was a sweaty, tired mess. It was tickle torture at it's finest!
He immediately began to poke and scamper his fingers over my tummy and sides. I could barely focus on the pictures or writing in the magazine I was reading. I kept squirming, hoping he'd stop but I knew he wouldn't. Despite not ever having a session with him, I sensed Ben would be a pretty merciless tickler.
After tormenting my upper body for some time, I tried to find a comfortable way to sit on the couch. This led to the inevitable foot tickling. Ben grabbed hold of my ankles, put my soles in his lap and began to massage and tickle them. Trying to escape his grasp was difficult. After some time, we made a short trip over to his bed where he tickled me senseless.
From underarms to ribs, sides and tummy. From my thighs to knees, calves to ankles and feet, he found almost every ticklish spot I have. He used baby oil wherever he desired, teasing me with his fingers, digging in to my sensitive underarms. He took my helpless feet in his arms and mercilessly tortured the tops, sides and especially toes. My toes are probably the most ticklish spot on my feet. He made sure to get them good.
He later used arm restraints so I really can't escape his tickle happy fingers. All I could do was giggle, squirm and plead for him to stop. I began to feel as though I was losing it. My body sensitive and sore, wondering when he'll stop but part of me secretly not wanting to.
Once he found my thighs there was no going back. Squeezing my upper thighs caused me to buck and arch my back in the attempt to stop him. Ben was not having that. He wanted to watch me laugh, fully enjoying teasing my sensitive skin.
Throughout the session I called out "blue" four times. There was just so much I could take and he knew that. He'd often verbally tease me, asking me to recite the alphabet backwards or say, "tickle, tickle tickle" which only made it all harder to stand. I could barely remember my name at some points.
By the end I was a sweaty, tired mess. It was tickle torture at it's finest!
Thanks for sharing the story here. 
