Feather Touch

When Marshall arrived home with an enormous bouquet in his arms I thought Roses! I love roses and Marshall knows that perfectly well. After seven blissful years of marriage, he has memorized nearly all of my favorite things. He knows that I like to stay up late on Friday nights, and love to luxuriate in lazy Saturday mornings. He knows that I take my coffee black, as strong and rich as I can possibly get it. He knows that my favorite pie is homemade apple and that my favorite flavor of ice cream is French Vanilla, and while those might be fairly predictable choices, he also knows that my sexual tastes are anything but run of the mill.

You see, the most important thing that Marshall knows about me is that my biggest erotic turn on is tickling. I love every single part of being tickled. I even adore the time period before being tickled, because anticipation is major foreplay for me. When Marshall says that he s going to tickle me, I get as turned on as when he says he wants to make love. I imagine every second of it beforehand, every wicked vibration flooding through me as his fingertips trip up and down my naked skin, making those dangerous, devious motions that send me into body shaking spasms of laughter. The mere thought of what it feels like is enough to make me wet. But the actual x rated act is even better: the feel of his knowing hands slipping under my arms to tickle that most sensitive region, or working along the bottoms of my feet in slow motion circles, or running up and down the backs of my thighs. Each action has the luscious potential to send me over the edge.

When Marshall starts tickling me, he is in total control, and I am completely at his will. I relish being at his mercy, giving myself and my pleasure over to him. It makes me feel more connected to my sweet husband than any other bedroom activity we engage in.

That night, I watched him walk into the living room with a big pink crinkly tissue bouquet in his arms. There were vibrant red blooms visible within the pastel tissue wrapping. But where was that familiar floral scent?

Happy anniversary, Marshall said as he came closer to me. His green eyes gleamed impishly at me, and his ginger hued eyebrows rose in a rakish manner. When he took another step forward, he was suddenly close enough for me to see that the bouquet in his arms was made not of flowers but of feathers lush and lovely crimson feathers, all wrapped up together to simulate an armful of roses. The vision made me instantly cross my legs and rock my body. I know I sighed in fact, I nearly swooned.

Happy anniversary, I whispered back to him, my large brown eyes still focused on the array of feathers in his arms. I couldn t have torn myself away if he d said the house was on fire. All I could do was gaze at the feathery bouquet and wonder about his lascivious intent. I didn t make a move or ask a question of him. I simply remained silent and poised, because I knew from years of experience that Marshall would undoubtedly have a passionate plan and I was sure that it would be one of the sexiest scenarios I d ever experienced.

Do you like them? he asked, turning to look from the feathers to my face. I nodded, then licked my lips. There was total silence for a moment the room was so quiet, I was aware of the very pounding of my heart as well as the pulsing of my pussy. When he moved, I actually thought I could almost hear the soft rustling of the feathers against each other. When I looked back at Marshall, he simply cocked his head. Clearly, he was waiting for me to respond. I shot him a sexy look back.

Should I get a vase? I asked coyly. I was teasing, and Marshall gave me a little half smile.

Not a vase, baby, he said, these little beauties don t need water for us to enjoy them.

What then? I asked, my body trembling as Marshall ran one of his hands over the pretty faux blooms. It was as if I could feel the kiss of the feathers against my palm while I watched him gently tickle his skin and he teased me.

You can t smell these, he said, and although they re lovely, they aren t meant for simply admiring. What you need to do for me, Jen, is take off all of your clothes right now.

I could already imagine what the first tantalizing touch of those velvety feathers would feel like how sweetly they would brush over my skin, how alluring their soft touch would be. I knew from past experience precisely how I would laugh and squirm as Marshall danced the stunning feather tips over my body and I couldn t wait another second. I gave a light moan and was in motion practically before he finished speaking.

Because it was a hot day, I d only been wearing my white cut off shorts and a little slinky silver tank top. I hurriedly discarded my outerwear and then, as Marshall watched me appreciatively, slid my sopping wet panties down my tanned thighs until they reached the floor.

In moments, I was entirely naked, my body warm from sitting in the sun filled room, and my pussy so wet that I felt the liquid of my arousal already working to coat my shaved nether lips. I wondered if Marshall could see how turned on I was from where he stood. Then I wondered if he could smell the scent of my impending pleasure. He was right. We didn t need roses at all. My own heady fragrance had begun to perfume the air.

Now, what? I asked once I d obeyed his first command. I was completely bare, and from the way Marshall stared at me, I knew that he liked what he saw. He took a moment to admire my naked form by licking his full lips, before continuing with his instructions.

Lie down on the rug, put your hands over your head and hold them together. I don t want you to move, Jen. Not at all.

Because I had an idea of what was in store for me, I knew this would be far more difficult than it sounded. In fact, it would be impossible. When Marshall tickles me, there s absolutely no hope of me staying still. The feeling of being tickled makes me kick and wriggle it makes me laugh so hard that I ache deliciously inside. My whole body gives itself over to that most decadent experience of being completely powerless to behave. But that didn t mean I wouldn t try to do what he requested. Trying to obey him is half the fun being tickled is the other half.

While Marshall watched, I lay down on our plush lilac rug and locked my hands together over my head. My awareness was piqued. I was intensely focused on every subtle sensation: the way the soft carpet felt under my naked ass and the way my sensuous wetness continued to spread from my pussy. I wanted to take one hand and dip my fingers between my nether lips. I wanted to lick away my own sweetness while Marshall watched but that would be disobedient of me, and I couldn t fail him so soon. Shifting my hips, I found the most comfortable position possible, and then stared up at him to let him know that I was ready. Although my heart was pounding fast, I was more excited than anything.

With a wink, Marshall unwrapped the feathers slowly. They were truly stunning, dyed a dark scarlet, with long wavering plumes that seemed to shimmer when Marshall moved them. I trembled all over at the sight and bit down on my lip. I already knew what those beautiful feathers would feel like as they traced naughty designs all over my body, but I still couldn t wait for their very first touch against my soft skin.

Ready? Marshall asked me softly.

No, I whispered jokingly, and Marshall laughed at me, the deep baritone laugh that I love. Although I craved his ticklish touch, I m never actually entirely ready but I always want it more than anything. Another shudder of pleasure worked through me as Marshall stared at my naked body. I felt as if I were being tickled by the look of those feathers alone! Tickled, somehow, by osmosis. If the mere sight of the feathers was making me twitch in excitement, what would I do when Marshall actually touched me with them?

Marshall must have been thinking the same thing, because he gave another low chuckle, and then brought one feather forward. I felt the muscles in my thighs and my pussy clench tight in anticipation, and the giggles were already starting to overpower me.

This is how it always is for me. Yes, I love being tickled I fantasize about the act all the time but the actual act of being tickled is so incredibly intense.

As Marshall brought the feathers closer, I shut my eyes tight and told myself to hold still. My husband began running that one solitary feather up the outer length of my thigh, to the split between my legs, then traced it down the other side. Oh, did that feel otherworldly! The feather s fronds were like thousands of tiny fingers massaging me. My body reacted automatically. My nipples hardened into ripe, round jewels, and my breath sped up as if I d just run up a steep flight of stairs. I arched my back, offering myself over to Marshall, and I groaned out loud.

Without a word, Marshall continued, trailing two stalks of feathers along my ribs and circling my heaving stomach.

Oh, God! I groaned. Oh, God. Oh, Marshall! My body felt electrified, and I shook from the center of my core. My hands unclasped, and I reached down, not to protect myself, but out of instinct.

No, baby. It doesn t work that way, Marshall told me. You keep your hands together, or I m going to have to tie them together.

This wasn t much of a threat. I like it when Marshall ties me up. Marshall likes it, too, which explained the mischievous smile I caught on his face when I opened my eyes again. He wanted me to fail so that he could bind me up the way he had pictured in his mind truss me and tie me so that I couldn t possibly move, and then tease me however he wanted to with those long, lovely feathers. The image was so erotic that I almost intentionally misbehaved for him.

Steeling myself, I tried again to obey, sighing as I clasped my hands once more over my head, giving Marshall a nod when I was ready. A tremulous shiver worked through my entire body, and I held my breath. Marshall stared at me, a feather poised in each hand.

Every single movement I made now felt like I was being tickled even the delicate carpet under my rear was tickling me. My body was alive and aroused like never before. I took a deep breath, and he brought the feathers to my body, brushing the tips along the bottoms of my feet. For about a second, I was able to keep my composure. Didn t I look stoic, spread out on the floor with my husband tickling the soles of my dainty feet? I was a statue. I was cut from stone.

That attitude lasted all of a millisecond before I had to shriek with laughter and pound my heels on the rug.

Oh, you like that, Marshall noted correctly, continuing to trail those sweet feathers up my legs, teasing the insides of my thighs as he moved them higher and higher.

He was right. I did like it. If he had brought his fingertips to my sex, he would have been able to see just how much I liked it. His fingertips would have been drenched from just one touch. In fact, he could have known without even a touch. The scent was intoxicating.

My pussy positively glistened with sexual wetness. But for all of my squirming and thrashing about, this time I managed to keep my hands together as instructed. Some part of me wanted to do what Marshall had asked, even as I felt the sexy juices continue to pool within my pussy lips and felt the carpet grow wetter beneath my bare ass. If he kept up with tickling my toes, I would leave a luscious little lake of my natural juices beneath me.

Using those two naughty feathers, Marshall moved back once again to tickle the soles of my feet. My hips pounded out a steady tempo on the floor, but I did not release my hands. I would do my best, I told myself. I would make him proud.

Marshall seemed to appreciate how hard I was working to please him. He continued to tickle me with the two feathers, one in each hand, moving the stalks slowly up my body once more, smiling at how hard I was laughing and how much my body was moving. I struggled to keep my arms overhead for him, giggling helplessly as the feathers traveled up to my ankles, then ran along the insides of my thighs. Although the ache was building within me, I found it in myself to stay totally still, even as I longed for him to touch my pussy but I had no such luck.

Without even the tiniest look at the urgency written on my face, he skirted over that most desperate part of me, refusing to give me what I had craved since I d gotten the very first glimpse of those decadent feathers.

But then he surprised me. Suddenly those feathers were running over my pussy, as soft and sweet as anything I d ever felt before. First one, and then the other. I couldn t think I couldn t speak. Marshall repeatedly stroked my wet pussy lips as I beat my hips on the rug, crying out as those feathers took me higher and higher. I realized I was going to come just a second before it happened. The ache in my body shifted, from feeling like I would faint from laughing so much, to feeling like I would die if I didn t climax immediately. Marshall pressed the feathers harder against me, and I knew these would be destroyed by my orgasm the stalks bent, the feathers wet and matted. But I didn t care. I shuddered ferociously and came, feeling as if I d been swept away on a sea of laughter, with the feathers continuing to tickle me even after my orgasm had subsided.

Happy seventh, Marshall grinned at me, smiling as he watched me try to pull myself back together.

Marshall gave me a moment to relax and catch my breath. My heart was pounding, and my whole body trembled from the power of my climax. Then he started up again, running one fresh feather along my erect nipples, while using another on my flat belly. I failed him once more, both of my hands coming free, unable to keep myself in check any longer.

He stopped tickling me immediately. He undid his tie and quickly brought it to my wrists. You need a little help, he said softly, in order to behave. I stayed still as he bound my wrists, waiting for the tickling to begin again, but this time Marshall lifted me in his arms, moving me over to the sofa. He bent me over the back and opened his slacks, then let me feel his warm, hard cock pressing against my naked ass.

I loved feeling how aroused he was. He d gotten that excited from tickling me alone or maybe he d been turned on all afternoon, fantasizing about what we would be doing later in the evening. Suddenly, I wondered what he said when he d bought those feathers. Did he tell the shop girl that he was going to take them home and tickle his wife until she came? The idea made me smile, but then I had to stop thinking like that, as Marshall brought the soft feathers back to my body and positioned his hard cock at my anticipated opening.

He ran the feathers along my ribs as my body twisted and turned, collapsing against the sofa, fully overpowered by the sensations. At that exact moment, Marshall thrust inside me. The tickling made me contract on his hard cock more powerfully than he must have expected, because that time he was the one to groan. But he didn t stop using those feathers. Marshall has always had more self control than I do. He ran them up and down my body as he slammed his cock inside of me, driving me crazy with desire. My quivering pussy milked him as he fucked me, and my body shook and trembled underneath his weight.

Arch your hips, he suddenly instructed.

I responded automatically, pushing back against him. Now Marshall had a little space beneath my body and the arm of the sofa. I sucked in my breath, guessing what he was going to do a second before he once again made my wish come true.

As Marshall fucked me, he brought the feather to my pussy. The fluff of it tickled my clit in the most delicious manner as his cock stroked in and out of me forcefully. The two different feelings warred within me: Gentle and strong sweet and throbbing.

I shuddered all over as my body tried to make sense of the sensations. And then when my mind could do no more processing, I simply came, and came hard, I might add. My entire body shivered with the intensity of this thrilling, raucous ride.

That s right, Marshall crooned. Come, darling. You come as hard as you can. And then the feather was gone, and his fingers took over, lightly scratching my inner thighs, tantalizingly tickling, then pressing hard against my clit.

Marshall understood that I needed a firmer touch to send me over the edge. My climax sparked his own, and soon I felt his body stiffen behind me. His cock pulsed, and then he groaned and shuddered as his dick exploded inside me. He lifted me in his embrace, pulling me up and off the ground as he filled me with his cream.

Happy anniversary, baby, he whispered as he cradled me in his arms.

Happy anniversary, I sighed back to him.

There is no traditional guideline that says that on your seventh marriage anniversary you give feathers. Or if there is, then Marshall must have created it himself. But thinking this, I couldn t help but wonder: What might he possibly have planned to celebrate our eighth?

Kinky Treasures

The evening began normally enough I know normal for most people might not involve a bout of hard bondage followed by an even harder fucking, but that s been normal for Samantha and me ever since we hooked up again. We d been lovers briefly in college, but lost touch after graduation. Then, several months ago we were reunited in an online chat room, of all places. I was delighted to learn that Sam and I had ended up in the same city and when we met for dinner I immediately noted a change in the rather shy girl I had once known. Maybe I should have expected it. The chat room we reconnected in was devoted to BDSM. While I had logged on mostly out of curiosity, I learned that Samantha was a fixture there. Apparently she d been introduced to bondage games by an older man she had been involved with a year before. The experience had turned her into a confident, sexy Amazon, and I was more than happy to reignite our relationship with an added dimension of kink.

On this particular night, Samantha had felt like playing the aggressor. This led to me being stripped naked, kissed and sucked for several long teasing minutes, then cuffed spread eagled to her big brass bed.

Samantha is six feet tall, with long legs and gorgeous big rosy nippled breasts. Her golden hair hangs in ringlets around her lovely face. Believe me, one look at this woman and you wouldn t want to be dominated by anyone else. That night, she was as horny as hell. If I couldn t tell by the look in her eyes, I knew as soon as she grabbed a condom from the bedside table and ripped the package open with her teeth.

I hope that big cock of yours is in a lady pleasing mood, she growled, sliding a red fingernail from my dick s root to its fat pink head. Cause this lady wants some pleasing and she wants it right now.

She tucked the rubber in her mouth and swooped down on me. I strained against my bonds in a delirium of pleasure as her wet tongue worked the condom over my aching dick. I shut my eyes, anticipating the sensation of my rigid latex sheathed cock piercing the tight wetness of Samantha s pussy. I was looking forward to a royal fucking, and I got it . . . but I had no idea that other indescribably torturous new pleasures were also awaiting me!

At first, it was business as usual as my dominant blonde lover impaled herself on my shaft. I jerked my hips upward, burying my hard length in her wetness, enjoying her passionate moans and growls. It was like being eaten by a beautiful, hungry lioness. The bondage definitely added something to the experience the soft padded leather wrapped snugly around my wrists, the strange feeling of being stretched out and utterly helpless, unable to move except for small pelvic thrusts to please my lady I found it all to be a huge turn on.

Then everything changed. Samantha sighed and writhed away on my pole, stretching her delicate fingers toward my chest to begin toying with my nipples. In my state of heightened sensitivity, her initial touch felt like an electric shock. I moaned and bit my lip in response. The slow sliding of Samantha s soft fingertips across my nipples, followed by her nails scratching my stiffened nubs, made my flesh tingle. As she continued toying with those tender spots, the itch morphed into a tingling sensation that soon became an incredibly ticklish one.

I was both surprised and mysteriously turned on. I had never thought of myself as being particularly ticklish, especially on my nipples of all places, but my body apparently had other ideas, especially while I was completely immobilized. I let out a hoarse whoop that turned into an embarrassingly loud, high pitched fit of giggles. Had Samantha taken her fingers away a split second or two earlier, I might have been able to hold back my response, and the evening would have gone very differently, indeed.

As it was, Samantha s eyes widened with amusement, and a sexy sadistic smile formed on her red lips. Why, Jeffrey, she purred. I didn t realize you were so ticklish!

I nervously licked my lips, trying to smile back. I didn t realize it, either.

With an innocent look that didn t fool me for a second, Samantha s fingers crept into my armpits. Does this turn you on? she inquired as she stroked her fingers along my exposed flesh.

Hey! I laughed, writhing helplessly in a futile attempt to escape her exquisitely gentle caress. Please, Sam! Don t! Although I was pretending to protest, stopping was the last thing I wanted her to do and she knew it.

Oh, it turns you on all right, she gasped gleefully, beginning a fresh series of manic gyrations atop my throbbing dick. Every time I tickle you, I feel your cock jerk inside my pussy!

I knew she was right. As torturous as the tickling was, it was also driving me halfway out of my mind with lust. My cock felt harder than ever and my hips had begun a steady, rhythmic thrusting that Sam apparently found very pleasurable. However, I couldn t distract her from her tickling mission. She continued wiggling her fingertips against my sensitive spots and I couldn t stop bucking up into her hot cunt. Sam s pussy was even more dripping wet than usual, a sure sign that tickling me was turning her on as well. As I rapidly approached orgasm, I found myself gasping through my uncontrollable giggles.

Then, at the moment my balls began contracting, Samantha climbed off me.

What s wrong? I asked breathlessly. She took my confused face in both hands and lavished my mouth with a sloppy, wet kiss.

Want to try something new? she asked, grinning impishly.

I m game, I smiled. I was a bit nervous but very excited, because I knew how wonderfully wicked Samantha could be when it came to kinky pleasures. At this point, I was so aroused, I was ready for anything.

After another, even hotter kiss, Samantha removed the wet condom from my dick. She got something from the drawer of her dresser and came back to the bed with the object hidden behind her back. I was expecting a feather or another tickle toy, but I was surprised when she revealed a silver cockring.

I was saving this for your birthday, she said. But this is too good an occasion to pass up.

With gentle fingers, she slid the ring onto my shaft with my already raging cock, it was a tight fit, but not too tight that it was uncomfortable. There, she said, caressing my balls and watching my response with a pleased expression. That should keep you from squirting too quickly and spoiling my fun.

She put a fresh condom on my steel encircled dick and climbed on top of me again, enveloping my cock with her honeyed cunt. God, that feels good, she sighed. I m the luckiest lady in the world. And I m about to be the most thoroughly fucked woman on the planet.

With that, she smiled devilishly and wriggled her fingers in my face. Say when, she whispered.

After a moment s hesitation I shut my eyes and said, When.

And then very quickly, my laughter began anew.

Samantha started by slowly tracing circles around my erect nipples, then trailed her fingertips down my sides. She prodded each of my ribs in turn, as though I was some kind of human musical instrument. She scratched lightly at my belly and reached up to tickle my throat and behind my ears.

It was no exaggeration to say I nearly laughed my head off. As Sam s wiggling fingers attacked me, I howled and slammed my head repeatedly into the pillow. I wildly wriggled my fingers and toes. These were the only movements I could make. I couldn t escape her tickle torture, and I loved every minute of it.

Soon my laughter was competing with Sam s moans of pleasure as she energetically rode my rigid cock. Laugh for me, she gasped, sounding almost delirious. Laugh for me, baby. My boy s so ticklish, but he can t get away, can he? No, he can t. He just has to lie there and get tickled. Kitchy kitchy koo!

I felt my face burning as Samantha teased me with her sexy baby talk. I was her giggling fuck toy, her ticklish human dildo and I loved it! My balls boiled, but the cockring held back my load, keeping me hard for my lady.

I have no idea how long Samantha fucked and tickled me that night. I only know that eventually I felt her cool, gentle hands undoing the cuffs and removing the condom and cockring. I was too tired from laughing so hard to move much. I just lay there, with my dick free, letting my beautiful lover take care of me.

You are so sweet, she murmured in my ear. You are the absolute best in the world, do you know that? A kiss followed, and then I felt Sam fasten her mouth onto my cock.

Her tongue slid along my shaft, her lips wrapping around the base. I came in seconds, a gushing flood of come that Samantha promptly swallowed, wiping her mouth afterward with a proud smile.

Delicious, she purred in a sexy voice before drifting off to sleep.

As you might imagine, the next couple of weeks brought more wonderful ticklish situations, each one with me on the receiving end. However, as our tickle games developed, my thoughts and fantasies were soon consumed by erotic images of tickle torture sessions that had Samantha on the receiving end of my devious torments.

I finally had my chance one rainy Saturday. Sam was obviously in a submissive mood, and I wondered out loud whether she was as ticklish as I am. It might be fun to find out, I reasoned.

Want to tie me up and see? she asked with a demure smile.

You read my mind, I replied, and in a matter of moments she was seated in a straight backed wooden chair, her arms tied tightly behind her, her long legs spread wide. I used the same rope she had tied me with the night before, a stout coil we had bought at a hardware store and washed with fabric softener to make it smooth and supple.

So, I smiled, all but rubbing my hands together in anticipation, where are you most ticklish?

My clit, she giggled. It just drives me crazy when someone tickles my clit and pussy.

Nice try, I laughed. I ll tell you what I think. I think these gorgeous feet of yours could use a little tickling.

Oh, no! No, Jeff, please! Her words were frantic, but her excitement was unmistakable. She was already barefoot, wearing nothing more than a halter top and a pair of cutoffs. I reached down and claimed one of her pretty feet, gently pulling it up onto my lap. Samantha, apparently hoping to distract me, rubbed her toes against my bulging crotch.

Please, sir, she crooned. Please let me jerk you off with my toes instead of you tickling them. I really can t stand having my poor little feet tickled.

I smiled at her act and immediately began tickling her sweet foot bottoms. Samantha went nuts, screaming and trilling with uncontrollable laughter. What a turn on that was! My gorgeous dominant girl now delivered into my hands, limp and giggling with glee. I ve always had something of a foot fetish, and now I indulged it to the hilt, gently scratching at Samantha s soles, raking my nails over her sensitive arches and pulling on her perfect toes as she howled with helpless laughter. I even leaned my head down to swipe my tongue across her toes, which I learned were super ticklish. To further torture her, I would let go of her feet for just a few seconds, offering her a momentary reprieve, only to tickle her again with renewed fervor, making her cry out loud with each stroke of my fingers.

I loved teasing and tickling her tootsies, and I could tell it was turning her on, too. Her nipples were pressing urgently against the thin fabric of her top, and as she thrashed her head from side to side, hair flying in all directions, I even caught a whiff of her aroused pussy.

Please, Jeff! Have mercy! Sam pleaded, but her careful avoidance of our safeword let me know that she wanted to continue, despite her pleas.

Mercy, eh? No, I don t think so. Not yet, anyway. You might as well know I plan on putting your claims of your clit s ticklishness to the test in a few minutes. But before then . . .

I knelt on the floor and began sucking on Sam s toes, one by one. She screamed. She cursed. Most of all, she laughed, especially as I slowly slid her toes into my mouth and pulled them out again, letting my teeth graze them on the way out. I could tell she was overcome with pleasure when her loud screams were reduced to heavy sighs. After I had twice given each of her ten lovely digits my special loving treatment, I gave her soles another ten minutes worth of slow, deliberate tickling, just for good measure. By then I knew she probably couldn t take much more. And that was fine, because now I was getting ready to fuck her the way we both needed it.

I moved behind her to untie her bindings so that she could get up from the chair, then I refastened her hands in front of her, wanting to keep her my beautiful, helpless captive. Now, let s have a look at that clit you say is so ticklish.

Please, Samantha moaned. She couldn t say much beyond that. The intense tickling I d just given her feet had her gasping and tittering uncontrollably. I smiled as I unzipped her cutoffs and pulled them, along with her panties, off her long legs, then helped her down onto the floor.

Tickle tickle, I grinned, my fingertip effortlessly finding the tiny nub of flesh that gave my Samantha so much pleasure. She giggled loudly, her legs twitching as I diddled her.

Oh, my God, she cried.

Are you ticklish there or not? I frowned. You don t seem very ticklish. Seems to me more like this is just getting you more turned on, you dirty girl.

Oh, no! It tickles! she cried out. She was, in fact, laughing, tossing her head from side to side with wide eyes as I teased her adorable pearl with feather light touches. The spectacle she put on for me was incredibly exciting. Sam seemed to have lost all control she d become a howling, crying, giggling slave to her own senses.

So what should I do to you, then? I wondered, continuing to tickle her fleshy little pleasure button.

Fuck me! Please fuck me, I can t stand it anymore!

Fuck you, I mused. No, I don t think so. I think I should tickle your feet a bit more. Perhaps with feathers, or maybe spread some honey on your soles and then slowly lick it off?

Oh, I couldn t stand it! she cried out. The description alone, of the delicious torments I was fantasizing about, had worked my lovely blonde girlfriend into a wild frenzy.

Are you okay? I whispered quickly, and then laughed as Samantha raised her eyebrows in a humorous affirmation of the pleasure she was feeling.

Well, then. Perhaps I should tickle your belly button instead. Or suck on these ticklish nipples. Or maybe, just maybe, I should fuck you.

Indeed, my cock was ready to rip through my underwear. I had never wanted to fuck Sam as badly as I did at that moment.

Oh, yes, please!

She lay down and I spread her legs wider apart. I told her to wait like that while I got a condom. A moment later, after effortlessly sliding on the latex sheath with one hand, my cock was gliding into the pussy of my obedient lover. Her cunt had never been so wet. She was so hot and ready to receive my dick. That first thrust was like sinking into a warm bath. I plunged in and out of her, reveling in the pure, physical joy of fucking. Sam was in ecstasy, alternating whispering dirty words with passionate little moans when my cock hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her sopping tunnel.

I took my time, even though at any moment I could have finished myself off with one good thrust. I ran my nails down her shoulders in a ticklish, shudder inducing slide. I smoothed her hair and managed to lean forward far enough to plant a kiss on her gasping mouth.

Gonna tickle you one more time, I whispered.

Oh, no! she moaned, in a completely unconvincing voice.

Here it comes, I grinned. Her pussy muscles were contracting, gripping my cock like a hand as her excitement increased. This was the moment.

Kitchy kitchy koo! I crooned playfully while gently scratching at her sides with my fingernails, heading toward what I knew was her most ticklish spot: a tender patch of flesh right above her hipbone.

At just the right moment, I began tickling her there, and Sam s cunt muscles locked around my cock, pulling at it, effortlessly draining every drop of come from my balls. I let go and surrendered to the feeling of being fucked and given a blowjob at the same time. As soon as my come shot into her cunt, she groaned from deep in her throat, releasing an animalistic howl, the likes of which I d never heard before.

We lay there for a while, perfectly still. The only sounds in the room were our labored breathing. As soon as I could move, I kissed her. Eventually I untied her and she wrapped her arms around me, enveloping me in a warm embrace.

Oh, baby, she whispered. I love you so much.

I told her I loved her, too, kissed her and pulled her close to me. While Sam relished our blissful afterglow, I was already making some naughty plans for the following night. Plans that involved a feather and a large jar of honey.


Todd, my boyfriend, went out of town on business and when he returned, he had a familiar gleam in his eyes. I knew he was up to something, and I must confess, the thought made me squirm with sexual expectation. He only has that twinkle in his eye when he s dreamed up something new to try in bed.

I took a scented bubble bath and put on my sheerest teddy and waited for him between the sheets. He made me wait, too, for at least a half hour. Every minute that went by, my clitoris throbbed just a little more as I remembered his touch and his rock hard body. He was teasing me without even being in the room!

When Todd showed up, he had the tie to my satin robe in my hands. He didn t say anything, just smiled as he slid into bed beside me. I tried to kiss him, and he let me, but I knew he was distracted. As I was licking his lower lip, he grasped both of my hands beneath the covers. He tied one wrist with the belt while he nibbled on my tongue. I was puzzled. We d tried bondage before. Why was he being so secretive?

I didn t ask any questions as Todd threaded the belt between the wooden slats of our headboard and tied my other wrist, immobilizing my arms above my head. He slid his hands slowly down my body as he turned me on my side, away from him. What was he planning while he was caressing me so slyly?

Suddenly, without a word, his fingers began to lightly stroke my bare armpits. He was tickling me! I laughed and wriggled but I couldn t get away. He wouldn t stop. For at least ten minutes his fingertips wiggled over my tender flesh while I lay there, unable to bring my arms down to stop him. The sensation was unbearable and delicious at the same time.

I begged Todd to stop, and it was then that he nuzzled my ear while he began tickling his way slowly down my ribcage. Would I be tickled until I came? My mind was reeling at the prospect, but I didn t have the time or the breath to object. His fingers dug into the most ticklish spots around my waist and I went ballistic. I squealed and laughed until I thought I would go crazy, but he didn t stop. I could feel his erection digging into my back through the silky fabric of my teddy. Todd was getting seriously turned on, and his tickle torture was turning me on, too!

Without warning, he threw the covers back, exposing my body to the cold night air. He gave me a moment to breathe as he positioned himself between my legs, trapping them with his. He dug his fingers into my hips, at the tops of my thighs. I had no idea that was a ticklish spot, but it sent jolts of electricity through me. I screamed and laughed in surprise.

I felt a cold chill when he turned himself around, trapping my ankles beneath his legs. I knew exactly what he was going to do and I begged him to spare me. Oh no, not my feet!

His fingers began to rake the bottoms of my supersensitive feet. I squealed and thrashed around, but it was no good. I was trapped, doomed to be tickled out of my mind. Todd s fingertips skated across my insteps again and again, back and forth, in circles, up and down the length of my feet. I couldn t laugh hard enough. Every inch of my body was tingling. It was as if I was on fire, and my clitoris was throbbing hard. It was as though Todd s fingers had found a direct route to my pussy, a superhighway to my cunt. I was getting turned on, big time. The more my boyfriend tickled my bare feet, the wetter I got. My clit was throbbing intensely.

I screamed for Todd to screw me, but he just grinned. As he tickled my knees, he told me that he wasn t going to stop until I had an orgasm. His fingers on my knees sent jolts of electricity through me that dive bombed into my clit, sending me higher and higher.

There was no more waiting. I was on the verge and I had to let go. I exploded, the sensations of the tickling vibrating through me, armpits to feet, at the speed of light, while my body jerked with millions of involuntary spasms. The intensity of the orgasm was far beyond anything I d ever experienced before. And all because my lover was tickling me!

When I finally calmed down, Todd unbuttoned the crotch of my teddy and pushed his enormous erection into me. My arms were still tied and, as he fucked me, he began to tickle my ribs again. It made me grip his cock tighter and ride him in waves. The excitement of having him inside me, pumping, and his tickling fingers on my waist made it impossible to hold back. We came together, laughing and bucking like maniacs.

Todd s new method of foreplay soon became our favorite. Since then we ve gotten special bondage equipment, feathers, brushes and other toys to use in our tickle sex sessions. Along the way I discovered the thrill of tying Todd down and tickling him. The size of his erection is proof positive that he loves to be bound and tickled as much as I do. Nothing beats a good tickle followed by a furious fuck.

Ms. J.B., Missouri

French Tickler

What is this? Jacques asked, holding up a pretty pink puff of long feathers. Jacques, my gorgeous blond boyfriend of six months, is a doctoral student from the South of France. He had been rummaging through my box of sex toys, a risqu assortment of various goodies I d collected over the years. What he held in his hand was my latest acquisition, a darling little device my friend, Carly, and I had picked out together at an adult toy shop in San Francisco s Mission District. She d insisted, from pleasurable personal experience, that I needed to own one for myself. Of course, she hadn t told me how to explain its purpose to Jacques.

He shook the blush colored pouf in front of me again, a sexy smile shining in his dark brown eyes. Qu est ce que c est? he asked again, this time using his native tongue, almost as if he were asking himself.

It s a I started and then stammered to a halt.

Well? he continued, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

You know, I continued, a tickling device.

Tickling? he repeated, not seeming to understand the concept. I had no idea what the proper word for tickling was in French it s not the sort of term that comes up in conversational French classes so I just slid forward into his strong arms and playfully fluttered my fingertips along his ribs, teasing him through his royal blue t shirt and making him squirm and giggle.

Tickling, I explained, by my actions. Touching in places to make someone laugh.

But where would you use this? He seemed genuinely surprised to find such an item among my other more obvious sex toys. The velvet leopard print cuffs, black satin blindfold, leather ankle restraints and cherry flavored lubricant had required no additional explanations. He hadn t needed any help understanding what those were used for.

You know, I said slowly, on someone s body.

Specifically he pressed. O ? Where?

Anywhere, I countered, my cheeks flushed as pink as the vibrantly dyed feathers he held in his hand. Here. I touched him on his ribs again, but this time I slid my hands underneath his t shirt to stroke his naked skin. Or here. And then I tickled my fingers up higher, stroking his broad chest, pausing for a second to tug on the curls of hair there. It didn t take more than that to give Jacques the idea.

How about here? he asked as he traced the fluffy feathers along my collarbone, which was visible over the neckline of my white tank top.

Yes. I nodded as a tiny shudder worked through me and then, as an afterthought, added, Oui.

He cocked his head for a moment, as if gauging my reaction to the feathers on my skin. Then he gave me the most evil wink and motioned with his head for me to lie down on the bed. I obeyed instantly, waiting to see what he would do. Jacques sat down next to me, and it became obvious that he liked my brand new sex toy. Would you use it here? he asked, running the feathers along my bare, tanned arms. I started to twitch on the bed and laughed in spite of myself. Yeah, I said, there s good.

And here he continued, as he ran the feathers over my forehead, then my cheeks and, after moving aside my curly ginger red hair, my earlobes.

Yes, I said again, breathless.

As if giving himself time to get used to the toy, he worked extremely slowly, brushing the feathers lightly over my skin, giving me only the tiniest touch. Gently, he moved the tickler down my chin and throat to caress the tops of my breasts with the pretty pink feathers. That tickled even more, and I squirmed away, but he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me closer to him.

Do you like that? he asked in a whisper, smiling down at me.

I held my breath, nodding. The feathers came back into play again as he pulled up my tank top to reveal my concave belly. When he tickled me there, I found myself arching upward to meet brush of the feathered toy. Oh my, I sighed between giggles, and in a flash, I realized that I wanted him to touch me more seriously. Would he understand that without me telling him? I shouldn t have worried. Jacques is a quick learner. After he observed my reaction to the lightest of touches, he began to tickle me more forcefully, using the feathers on all of my naked skin that he could reach: my thighs beneath my short floral skirt, my delicate ankles, then down to the bottoms of my bare feet. In moments, I was convulsing with giggles on the bed, unable hide how much I was enjoying the experience.

That feels good, then? Jacques asked, as if wanting reassurance.

I nodded, gasping for air. The sensation was both delightful and unsettling, an odd combination that had me wishing he d continue and already half begging for him to stop. Jacques, however, paid no attention to my feeble attempts to push away his hands.

Take off your shirt, he demanded, clearly wanting greater access.

I gazed at him for a moment noticing the bright gleam in his dark brown eyes then I slowly pulled my tank top over my head and tossed it aside. I was braless and my small breasts were completely exposed, waiting for him to kiss, lick and tickle. Clearly unable to resist the sight before him, Jacques set the feathers down on the gold brocade comforter and leaned forward. His full lips touched my nipples lightly, and he took turns kissing my left breast and then my right. The wet heat of his mouth instantly had me sighing with pleasure. But then, as I grew ready for him to move his sweet kisses southward, he pushed me back down onto my pile of down pillows and grabbed the little tickler again.

You ready, Alyssia? he said, smiling impishly at me.

I nodded, not altogether sure if I was telling him the truth. But before I had time to think, Jacques was back in motion again, and I had to pay attention. He ran the feathers up and down my arms, and I held myself as still as possible, resolving not to struggle. Jacques seemed as determined as I was, but his intent was the opposite of mine. He wanted to make me lose complete and total control.

As he ran the tip of the feathers down my belly, I stayed perfectly still, humming to myself under my breath, my body as composed as if I were practicing one of the difficult yoga poses from the classes I take four mornings a week.

That s it, I told myself. That s right. You can do it.

But then he started playing dirty.

Prepare yourself, Alyssia, he playfully warned . As he spoke, he ran the feathers along my naked ribs. The sensation began to build within me. My body trembled and then started to shake. I was getting more and more turned on each time the pretty pink feathers met my skin, but the experience was maddening. When Jacques picked up the pace and intensity of his tickling, I pushed him away, laughing too hard to speak.

Oh, no, he said, shaking his head in mock severity. We cannot have that.

I m sorry, I said, hoarse from my uncontrollable giggling.

You can laugh all you want, but we ll have to find some way of keeping you in place, to keep you from fighting me.

In moments, he was once again rummaging through my box of sexy treats to retrieve the leopard print cuffs he d noticed earlier. Yes, he nodded, more to himself than to me. These are perfect.

My eyes widened with realization. If he put the cuffs on me, I wouldn t be able to push him away. Of course, I knew myself well enough to understand that I didn t have any desire to push him away at all.

I didn t say a word as Jacques bound my wrists to my heavy metal bed frame. I simply waited, my breath catching in my throat as he sat back next to me on the mattress, the flirty little tickler in his hand, telling me the rules of the game. This is the way it needs to be done, he said decisively, brushing the fluffy pink feathers over my erect nipples. I tugged on the cuffs, but found that I was held tightly in place, and I was thrilled to be captured for him to use at his will.

See? he asked, his brown eyes glowing with lust. You can thrash about all you want, but you cannot get free.

Even more important than that, I realized exactly what was exposed to him. Yes, my ribs are extremely ticklish, as are the curve of my neck and the bottoms of my feet. But with my arms over my head, he d exposed the most ticklish places on my entire body. Without a word from me to clue him in, he seemed to guess it all by himself. I shivered all over as he gently ran the feathers slowly from my right wrist to the crook of my elbow, and then with agonizing slowness, all the way up to my armpit.

Oh, no! I cried out. Oh, Jacques! Stop! As much as I protested and flailed, the last thing I wanted him to do was stop.

He grinned at me, his white teeth flashing, but he didn t let up. He looked as if he d discovered a secret treasure, and he lifted the feathers and brought them to my left side, tracing an identical trail along my other arm.

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, I screamed, my body shuddering and bucking on the mattress, totally out of control. Jacques seemed to appreciate this reaction, because I saw his eyebrows raise again, as he considered where to tickle me next. He didn t take long to decide. Quickly, he hopped off the bed and headed back to my box of tricks. While recovering from my most recent bout of giggles, I saw him select the blindfold. If he used that I wouldn t know what part of me he would be tickling next. That would be exquisite torture: the wondering, the hoping. He placed the blindfold over my blue eyes and tied the ribbon behind my long red curls. Instantly, I felt as though he were tickling me everywhere. The hairs on my arms stood up and my body tensed.

Where would the feathers fall next? I wondered. I started to laugh nervously before the soft feathers even brushed my skin. Jacques responded by laughing at my reaction. I am not even touching you yet, and already you are shaking the bed, he said.

I can t help it, I told him, between giggles. It feels like you re tickling me all over. It was true. My body felt electrified, and when Jacques bent closer to me, I started laughing even harder. I thought he would tickle me again, and I tried to guess where the feathers would land. On my breasts? On my belly? Being blindfolded made me feel vulnerable and sexy. Without a doubt, I d put myself entirely in his hands. He could do whatever he wanted and I would have no way to stop him, not that I wanted to.

I thought that he would return to my arms, but he surprised me. The next sensation I felt was a puff of air on my erect nipples. He was blowing on me! His warm breath on my naked skin made me shudder even harder than I had when he d been tickling me. For the first time that afternoon I was suddenly aware of how desperately wet I was. I had on only my short skirt and panties, and I could tell that my little lace edged boy shorts were absolutely drenched. As Jacques worked his way down my body, adding little wet kisses to the equation, I started to buck once again. The bed shook with my movements as I tugged on the cuffs and thrashed on the mattress.

I can tell that feels good, he teased, his hands on the waistband of my skirt.

Oh, yes, I sighed as he pulled my skirt down my thighs and off my body. Next, came my panties, and once he d taken them off, he returned to his kissing and blowing games. His mouth was warm and wet on my clit, and I cried out loudly as he licked me, then cried even harder as he gently exhaled against me. The warm puff of his breath against my pussy was a new tickling sensation, and I wasn t sure that I would last much longer. I felt like a vessel being filled with pleasure, and my impending climax would make the pleasure spill over the top and out of me.

Jacques stroked my legs with the pads of his fingertips as he kissed and licked me, always interspersing these actions with warm puffs of air against my throbbing clit. In what felt like seconds, I was coming, pulling on the cuffs and shaking the bed with a fevered intensity, the most violent I d been all afternoon. Being blindfolded and captured made the pleasure even greater. I had nowhere to go and nothing to see, so I focused instead on how good I felt and how powerful the orgasm was rippling through me.

But even as I came, I couldn t help but feel quite pleased with myself, because although he d tickled me forcefully, I d managed to retain some form of composure, even while blindfolded and bound to my bed frame. Maybe not much, but some.

I have to say that by the time my breathing returned to normal, I d actually forgotten all about the feathers. I don t know how that happened, but it s true. So when Jacques moved from between my legs and once again brought the feathers into play this time teasing the bottoms of my feet the experience was as powerful as it had been the very first moment he d brushed the feathers against me. With each tickle of the feathers on my naked skin, I felt renewed, energized and invigorated. And Jacques took advantage of these sensations.

His weight shifted off the bed again, and I heard the unmistakable sound of him undressing: his belt buckle opening, his jeans hitting the floor with a clinking sound from the change in his pockets. Then he came back onto the mattress, climbing between my legs, and I felt the slick sensation of lubricant coating my pussy lips.

Oh, he was going to fuck me, and I was ready, so achingly ready.

When he plunged his cock inside me, I understood how excited he d gotten from our tickling games. Playing with me like that had made him extremely hard. So hard that I cried out as he thrust deep inside me. I was already out of my head from the pleasure, but Jacques seemed much more in control of himself. Even as he fucked me, he brought the feathers to my arms once again, taking turns running the pink fluffy toy over one side and then the other. Each time the feathers kissed my skin, I bucked and laughed, tossing my long hair against the satin pillows, crying out from how confused I felt. I was laughing and shrieking with giggles and moaning with pleasure as Jacques thrust into me, although now I had something to hold onto. Not with my hands, which were still captured above my head, but with my pussy. The muscles within me tightened on his cock each time the feathers met my skin afresh, and I knew why he kept up his torturous tickling games. He was rewarded by a tight contraction of my pussy with every tickle and giggle.

The feathers danced repeatedly all over my skin, and then Jacques moved them to caress my nipples and my

whole body shuddered. This wasn t a severely ticklish zone for me, so the feathers simply felt like a fabulous massage. My nipples grew even harder as he brushed the fluffy tips across one and then the other, and as I sighed and moaned, he turned back to his previous games, tickling my armpits with the fabulous sex toy. The bindings held me firmly in place, but that didn t stop me from pulling on them, testing my strength against them. I knew that I couldn t go anywhere, but somehow struggling brought me some relief from the relentlessly tickling feathers.

And then suddenly the torture became overwhelmingly pleasurable. I quickly understood that if Jacques kept tickling me while he fucked me, I was going to come and come hard. Don t stop, I begged between bouts of raucous laughter. Oh, God, Jacques, don t stop.

I needn t have worried. Jacques seemed to have no intention of stopping. Not until both of us had reached our goal. Then suddenly he did something that made me scream even louder than I had so far. The feathers moved lower and lower down my body, over my pubic bone to my shaved pussy.

Oh, God, I cried. Oh, Jacques!

He tickled me harder and harder with them, and I could feel that the feathers were getting damp and sticky from my juices, but that didn t make the sensation any less fabulous as the feathers whisked back and forth over my clit. The combination of Jacques s steel like cock moving steadily inside me, the powerless feeling of being tied to the bed and the tickling caresses of the pretty pink feathers all worked to bring me one of the most powerful climaxes I d ever had. Laughter turned to moans of bliss and my giggles subsided entirely. Jacques brushed the feathers harder and harder on me until I shrieked, I m going to come, Jacques! Now! Now!

And as I came ferociously around Jacques s cock, he let go of the feathery toy and came with me, shooting hard and deep inside me. We were both racked by the intense contractions of my pussy, and we stayed locked like that for several moments, enjoying the aftershocks of pleasure. Then Jacques slid the blindfold from my eyes and gazed at me. I could tell from his expression how much he d liked my new toy. And I couldn t wait to tell Carly about my latest escapade being tickled by a French tickler.


I have to admit that before that day last March when my wife, Nancy, invited her friend, Sue, over to watch movies, I hadn t thought much about tickling. It had always struck me as a fun, slightly silly game, but not much beyond that. I wasn t above giving Nancy a quick poke in the ribs if the opportunity presented itself, but I never thought of tickling as a source of intensely sexual thrills. Neither did Nancy, I don t think, until Sue came along and showed both of us just how hot tickling can be.

It started while we were all lounging around on the sofa in our game room, after having watched the latest Hollywood blockbuster. I d only met Sue once before, and I didn t know her very well, but knew from watching the two women together that their friendship was a very close one. They d spent the movie whispering in each other s ear and touching each other s arm. The women made a nice contrast, since Sue is petite with jet black hair, and very spunky, while Nancy has curly blonde hair and is usually a little more serious. But with Sue, she really let her hair down, and their ringing laughter had become infectious.

Both women were dressed rather skimpily, in see through t shirts and shorts that showed off their long muscular legs. My mind couldn t help wandering in the direction of the two of them making out, with small Sue straddling my Nancy, their pussies rubbing against each other as their hands roamed over each other s nipples. I was quickly getting a hard on from these fantasies and shifted to try to hide it.

Nancy had put on the news, and Sue reached for the remote to change the channel, but my wife stubbornly held onto the small black control. They tussled playfully for it, with Nancy keeping it just out of Sue s reach. You re such a brat, you know that? said her friend. You haven t changed a bit since college! You always have to have your own way, don t you?

If the girls hadn t been grinning at one another as they traded insults, I might have feared a real argument was about to break out. Instead, Sue laughed and once again grabbed for the remote in Nancy s hand, proclaiming, Gimme that!

Giggling loudly, Nancy thrust the remote behind her back, effectively placing it out of Sue s reach. Try and get it now, she said sweetly, sticking out her tongue.

Guess she s got you, I told Sue, more to get a rise out of her than anything else.

We ll see about that, said Sue, with a twinkle in her eye as she reached over and gently lifted Nancy s t shirt up, folding it neatly over her breasts. Now we re really gonna have some fun, Sue said.

Rob! Nancy said, looking at me for help. Don t let her tickle me, she cried in mock protest, please help! She looked so adorable as she struggled that I just sat back and waited to see what would happen next. Plus, despite her feigned protests, she was clearly turned on. Her bare toes were clenched and she was breathing hard. Her foot had arched out and was running up and down my leg. I knew that despite what she might be saying, she wanted very badly to be tickled.

Sue reached down and delicately pinched Nancy s tummy between her thumbs and forefingers, then wiggled her fingertips against this sensitive area. As Nancy convulsed with laughter, Sue then moved her hands under my wife s arms, digging into her most ticklish area.

Nancy pursed her lips, shaking her head as she tried to keep her laughter in. She wasn t successful and let loose with a burst of giggles, her head of curls flying around. By now, I was absolutely turned on and figured my wife was getting turned on, too. Watching Sue manhandle Nancy was simply too much. I moved over to help her, teasing her neck while Sue alternated between her armpits and stomach, occasionally reaching behind her knees. Nancy was thrashing about, arching her breasts forward and then backward, trying to tilt from side to side to escape us. I wondered if Sue was aware of the erotic potential in our situation.

I got my answer quickly enough, because Sue then reached one hand between my wife s legs. The whole atmosphere in the room changed, from one bristling with laughter to one sizzling with arousal. My cock was throbbing against my pants as I looked from my wife s face to between her legs. When Nancy let out a moan, I leaned forward and kissed her, while Sue silently manipulated Nan s cunt. I moved around so I was standing behind my wife, kissing and licking her sensitive neck. In that position I was able to watch as Sue removed Nancy s skirt and panties, but kept her shirt locked in place so Nancy couldn t really move as she continued to stroke her pussy.

Do you like that, baby? I whispered into her ear, then flicked my tongue against her neck, making her squirm just as Sue plunged three fingers into my wife s soaking wet pussy. We each did our part to please Nancy, who seemed to have recovered from her tickle torture enough to enjoy the feel of Sue s probing fingers. She dropped her head back, and I lightly tricked my fingers over her neck while Sue brought her other hand from Nancy s stomach to her sensitive clit, intent on making my wife come. I ran my fingers along Nancy s chest, using the lightest of touches to make goose bumps form on her skin. Usually, we re in such a hurry to rip off each other s clothes that we don t take much time to savor the experience. This, however, seemed like the perfect chance to do so. I noticed that every time I made Nancy laugh, her body convulsed in a way that sent Sue s fingers deeper inside her. After several minutes, I saw that Sue had four fingers slammed inside my wife, and she probably could ve fit more, judging from the juices leaking out of Nancy s pussy.

My cock was rock hard by this point as well, and I started touching myself with one hand while the other dawdled all along my wife s flesh, noting which spots got the most reaction. Nancy was alternately laughing and moaning. Sue continued finger fucking her deep and hard while her other hand played with her clit. I tickled her lightly, and my wife was in absolute heaven. I began pumping my fist around my dick, caught up in the spectacle of Nancy s hot friend doing what I had just dreamed about. Soon everyone sped up their pace, and then Nancy was coming, letting out little noises that sounded like a cross between a hiccup and a screech. I came, too, and noticed Sue s body jerk a little in arousal as she made my wife come. Needless to say, that was only the beginning of our tickling sex adventures!

Mr. Rob S., Philadelphia, Pennsylvania


This overwhelming romance of mine with capture and tickle games took seed and flowered in the summer I shared a beach house with my friend Jenny out on Cape Cod at Provincetown. One lazy evening at sunset, Jenny and I were lying on the deck with gin and tonics and Jenny was running her hands through her long hair. Suddenly, she told me to tickle her face with her hair. Just the mention of the word tickling gave me a sexy jolt.

I carefully took a strand of Jenny s hair and, making a paintbrush out of it, tickled her face, tracing the hair as soft as a feather from her forehead to her chin. I got tingly all over seeing how much Jenny was enjoying it. So I continued tickling her on the insides of her arms, from her shoulders to her wrists, except now I was using my fingertips, brushing Jenny s skin very lightly.

Jenny then asked me to tickle her back. She pulled her shirt off and turned over on the deck. I traced my fingers gently over her entire back. This was great! I thought I would come in my pants just from feeling her skin rise in goose bumps. Another girl who enjoyed tickling? Maybe she would even be aroused by tickling me.

I didn t know it then, but that simple little scene began to dominate all of my sex thoughts, and I began to play more tickle games with Jenny. But I stopped letting Jenny dictate her limits to me about where or how to tickle her, or for how long. I always agreed to do what she wanted, but in return she had to let me do what I wanted.

I would negotiate with her. I would tickle her arms or her back for a few minutes. Then she had to let me tickle her under her arms or on the bottom of her feet, or even her rib cage, but only for about a minute or two at the most. It was so sexy to watch her.

Jenny would try to do everything she could not to react, but she could never make it past a few seconds before my ticking drove her to giggles. Then, in her laughter, she would twist and turn, kick her legs out, thrash around and try everything she could think of to get away from my fingers. She just drove me crazy.

We played these games almost every day that summer. If we were in bed, I often bunched up the blanket between my legs, just so it would press against my vagina. That way I could also be masturbating while I tickle tortured her.

I loved it when Jenny wanted to tickle me, too. I wasn t ticklish in the same places she was. We both discovered that I was ticklish in really sexy places, like across my breasts and along my vagina. I found that I liked just tickling myself solo, too, in the lazy nights when Jenny was out with her boyfriend at the pizza place on Main Street.

I found a feather that was perfect for this job, just big enough and tantalizingly fluffy, but at the same time hard and insistent at the very tip. Stroking my breasts and pussy with the feather, I had orgasm after orgasm while stimulating myself into a frenzy. Nothing ever felt as good as that feather stroked against my private parts. But I was still too shy to talk with anyone else about my secret pleasure. It was much later in life before I found that other people were aroused by tickling.

One day I found a copy of Variations with a whole feature section on tickling and it was really very exciting for me. I kept the magazine on my desk at the office and it piqued the interest of a woman who was always talking about her sexual conquests. One time Betty told me about one of her boyfriends tying her to a chair, and how he had tickled her for hours, then made love to her until she just exploded into orgasm.

This sounded a lot like the letters I had read in my sex magazines, like some kind of fantasy story. But then I guess that anything you haven t done yet but really want to do sounds like that. I certainly would have loved to be tied up and tickled, but I was too timid to ever ask anyone to do it to me. The thought of just watching it also aroused me.

Hearing all that sexy talk about being tied up and tickled did, however, help me find the courage to talk Betty into us having sex together. She had told me that she had done it with lots of women. I told her I wasn t all that experienced, but I sure loved tickling. When she invited me to her house one night, I arrived with champagne, my vibrator and a bag of different feathers.

She allowed me to tie her hands and feet to her bed so she was all ready to be tickle ravished. After arousing her by touching her all over with my fingers, tongue and the vibrator, I decided to use the vibrator on the bottom of her feet. She screeched with laughter and kicked to try to loosen the scarves I had used to tie her feet. I tickled her feet with the vibrator for just a few minutes and she went really wild.

But I did not stop. I used the feathers, my fingertips, my fingernails, a ballpoint pen, the tip of my hairbrush, the bristles of my hairbrush and my tongue on her feet. Betty laughed so hard that she almost wet the bed!

I stopped just long enough to let her catch her breath. Then, I proceeded to tickle the rest of her body, using the feathers and my fingertips.

Betty was really fun to play with. I twisted the feathers in circles all over her breasts and her stomach. I used the quill part of the feathers all over her underarms, just drawing lines on them, like I was writing words on her. She squealed with laughter. She was covered in sweat and tears rolled down her cheeks from laughing so hard.

The most ticklish part of her body was her feet. Next to that, it was the soft area just along the sides of her breasts, just below her underarms. All I had to do was lightly touch her there with my fingertips and she just rocked all over the bed in laughter.

By this time I was the most wet I had ever been in my whole life. I lay my body on top of hers and pressed my pussy bone hard against hers, as if I was scratching something. Then I just lightly brushed my pussy against hers. She started to moan. She was also very, very wet.

I reached down and gently tickled the lips of her vagina with my fingertips, just as lightly and seductively as a feather. I stroked her just the way I had often stroked my own vagina through many extraordinary orgasms. Betty squirmed and her moans grew even louder.

This was very exciting for me. I couldn t believe I had found another person who got turned on by tickling, just like Jenny and I did. Betty squirmed and pushed her pussy up against my fingers, as if to say she wanted me to touch her harder. I positioned myself between her legs. I used my tongue, wiggling it between her lips until I found the little nubbin of her clitoris. She was getting more and more excited by my tongue. But, as you can imagine, I wanted to try something else.

I took one of the feathers and then, using one hand to spread her pussy lips apart like a pretty butterfly, I tickled her clitoris with the feather. She bucked her pelvis up and and made wild squealing noises. I moved my body back over hers and pressed my pussy against hers. Then I took the feather and gently touched both of our vaginas with it, lightly tickling us both. I angled my pussy against hers, harder and harder until she gasped into a frenzied orgasm.

I had my orgasm just seconds later, while she was still moaning and thrashing from hers. It was such an exciting and enjoyable experience for both of us that she called me several times to get me to come over again.

I have found some films on tickling in my local video shop, but the scenes seem staged and somewhat phony. Still, it s turning out to be a wonderful connection for me. I initially found it embarrassing to go into the store, but then I began to realize that the men who hang out around the tickling videos might be trying to tell me something I ve always dreamed of hearing.

One of them introduced himself to me last week. It was so exciting for me that I thought I d write this letter, which I may share with him. Bill and I went out for cappuccino and talked a little bit more about tickling, although I felt pretty shy. I even told him I was a virgin, and he said he couldn t believe his luck, what with Valentine s Day coming and all.

Ms. Alexandra M., Sacramento, California

Tickling Her Fancy

“This place will definitely tickle your fancy, Andrea,” Joel promised as he handed me a glossy brochure for an exotic vacation resort. He was taking me there as a special treat, and the surprise of being whisked away on a whim was thrilling. Even more so, however, was his choice of phrase, for I am an ardent fan of being tickled. It sets me afire like nothing else, and my interest was definitely piqued. Was he taking me to some sort of tickle lovers only location? I could envision the scene in my mind: beautiful naked women being pursued by men with feather dusters, bubbling laughter ringing out across an open atrium. Although the scenario was pure fiction, I couldn’t wait to pack my bags!

“Did you say something about tickling?” I started softly, feeling a warmth between my legs. He answered my query with a kiss, before brushing my hair out of my eyes. “You’ll love it, baby,” he said.

Joel was right, and we were both in awe when the taxi pulled up to the resort. Everything about the place whispered “paradise” the individual whitewashed buildings, the well manicured lawns, the sparkling fountains.

I glanced over at Joel as he took in the sights. Though my stunning husband looks great in a suit, now that we were on vacation, he’d traded his corporate attire for faded jeans and a navy blue t shirt. He appeared extremely relaxed as he pushed his shades up on his dark hair and pointed toward our cottage.

“Just look at those,” he said, and my gaze followed his outstretched arm. Each bungalow was surrounded by a garden filled with unusual flowers, and Joel was motioning to the lush pink blooms ringing our private cabana. The stalks were long and sturdy looking, almost like the stems of ferns, but the flowers themselves were neon pink explosions of the thinnest petals I’d ever seen. When I got closer I could see that they were almost like confetti and as dainty as snowflakes. “I’ve never seen anything like them,” he continued as he ran his fingertips along one exquisite stalk, “but I know exactly how to use them.”

My cheeks turned as bright pink as the long, feathery flowers, and I quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside. Joel brought in the suitcases and set them in the foyer, then went back outside again. I heard him rustling around for several moments and my heart began to race. The door opened and he came inside, his arms filled with the long, delicate blooms.

“What are you doing?” I asked, almost shivering from the anticipation of what I hoped his answer would be. I could tell from his sexy expression that he wasn’t simply presenting me with a bouquet of sweet nothings. This was clear from the look in his eyes and his devilish smile.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he replied as he traced the very tip of one of the flowers along my exposed collarbone. I playfully brushed the flower away and began backing down the hallway toward a door I assumed opened to the bedroom. Yet even as I moved away from my husband, I found that I was arching my body toward him ever so slightly, and each time he brought the petals to a new area of my skin, the light sensation felt like a delicate kiss.

“You know you want it, baby,” Joel admonished, coming ever closer.

“Want what?” I asked, giggling already from the teasing tickling as I found myself in the bedroom, with nowhere else to go. Taking immediate advantage of the situation, Joel dropped the feathery flowers onto the nightstand and lifted me in his muscular arms. He quickly set me on the bed and untied the bow at the back of my floral sundress, revealing the fact that I’d gone braless on our journey to the resort.

“Such a naughty girl,” Joel whispered as he reached for one of the long stalks. “Are you ready?”

“Please,” I said, begging already. But I wasn’t begging him to stop I was begging him to start.

Using just the tip of the flower, he traced my nipples, and I shivered all over at the instant wave of pleasure that rushed through me. The lovely pink petals were as fine as angora fur, so soft I could hardly stand it. My thighs spread slightly, almost against my will, and I could feel how wet I’d gotten just from the initial brush of the blooms on my naked tits.

My eyes locked on my husband’s as I felt the rush of arousal start to work more fiercely through me. Joel is my perfect mate he loves to tickle me as much as I adore submitting to the powerful pleasure that it brings. Whether he uses his hands, a single feather or one of my own marabou trimmed nighties, he always teases me in just the right way. Now, he had a brand new tool, and I could tell that he wanted to see what could be done with it. “What does it feel like, Andrea?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” My mind was hazy with the lust drenched shivers already warming me up. “Think,” he insisted. “Tell me.”

“A cloud,” I said softly, closing my eyes to better see the images I was describing. “Something that’s almost not even there. Fog or smoke or very fine lace.”

“How about when I do this?” Now, instead of using the tip of the flower, he used the entire stalk to caress my breasts. I sucked in my breath and held it, loving the way those tiny petals danced over my nude body. The touch was almost maddening so light and so delicate and I loved every second that the flowers lingered on my skin. It was akin to taking the very first bite into a decadent dessert I knew that far more sweetness awaited me, but I savored every moment.

Joel took his time, now using two separate flowers to stroke both my arms at the same time. I gritted my teeth and held myself steady as a shiver ran down my spine, as though he had lifted my hair and kissed the nape of my neck. The feel of those tiny flowers made me want to move, but at the same time, I had a deeper desire to sit and experience every single second of the agonizingly sexy caresses. My panties were already incredibly wet, and I wondered if Joel could smell my scent over the sweetness of the flowers. Each time he stroked me with the petals, more of their aroma was freed into the room and more of my own juices immediately followed. A heady combination of the two scents surrounded me.

“You’re incredibly wet, aren’t you?” he whispered.

I nodded. “So fucking wet.”

He then stroked the petals under my neck until I moaned and tilted back my head. I thought of the way he tickles me with our fancy feather dusters and with his own fingertips, and even with his thick, dark hair, brushing between my inner thighs when he goes down on me. “Tell me,” he insisted.

“Tell you what?” My brain was concentrating on my cunt and I couldn’t think straight.

“Tell me how your pussy feels.”

“I’m dripping,” I told him, “and each time you touch me with those flowers, my lips spread even wider apart.” I rocked my hips back and forth as I spoke, and I could feel the slippery wetness seeping through my panties.

“Take off your dress and thong,” Joel instructed. I followed his order in no time, pushing the fabric over my hips and kicking the dress to the floor, and then losing my thong in record speed. I was desperate to feel those flowers all over my naked body. I wanted him to tickle me harder so that the petals would crush against me, releasing their inner perfume as I released mine.

“Lie down and put your hands over your head,” my husband continued, “and don’t let go.”

“Or what?” I asked, knowing that I was being daring by pushing him.

“Or I’ll stop,” he assured me. “And you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

“No,” I admitted, and it was the truth. Even when my body is shaking with uncontrollable spasms of laughter and I feel physically wrenched, I don’t want him to stop even for a second. I want him to take me to the farthest reaches of sensual bliss and I can get there only by submitting to his desires and to my own.

Obediently, I lay back on the firm, king size mattress and locked my hands together over my head. I was offering him my underarms and my ribs, two extremely sensitive regions.

“Where do you want to feel it?” he asked softly.

I thought for a moment, and then honestly answered, “Everywhere.”

“But where do you want it first?” he prompted. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll make your wish come true.”

I lifted my upper body off the bed, offering him my entire torso. “Under my arms, and down my ribs. And then” my voice shook as I got ready to say it “and then run them over my pussy. I want to feel the petals against my skin there, caressing me lightly there.”

“Don’t worry,” Joel chuckled. “You know I’ll take care of that pussy of yours.”

I nodded, understanding that he was going to take his time and loving him for it. Gently, Joel began stroking the feathery blooms along my ribs. Using the flowers like wands, he ran them all the way to my underarms and then back down to the indent of my waist. I started laughing, squirming on the mattress at the way the petals tickled. Though I’d been tickled many times in the past, this time was different because the tool was so unique. It felt like tiny fingertips were trailing all over my ribs and then down the flat of my belly to my waiting pussy.

When Joel ran the flowers over my bikini line I groaned so loudly that I startled myself. He kept using the two stalks back and forth, first one and then the other, and then he used one over my breasts, caressing my pebble like nipples while the other flower tapped along my clit. He brought that stalk between my legs to tickle my inner thighs, and I groaned and arched my hips, knowing how desperate I looked, how reckless and open my whole body had become. I started giggling louder and in seconds, I was helpless, rocking on the bed, but

I didn’t let go of my locked hands.

“Hold still,” Joel admonished me, but I couldn’t. The feathery flowers tickled so bad and so good at the

same time, and each delicate stroke brought me another notch closer to climax. My ribs hurt from laughing and my whole body ached in a delicious way. Tickle me, I thought. Go on, tickle me until I come!

As if he could read my mind, Joel did just that. First one strand of petals gently kissed my clit and then the other, back and forth. Then, at the moment when he could sense that I needed an even stronger touch, he let go of the flowers entirely and brought his fingers into play. He used one hand to keep tickling my soft inner thighs while he parted my pussy lips wide. With that, my swollen labia let him know how aroused I was, and then his tongue against my clit discovered that secret for itself. My pussy was swimming with juices, and my husband’s tongue lapped them up, in the same rhythm he’d used to tickle me with the flowers.

“Oh, yes,” I sighed, nearly sobbing with ecstatic joy as I continued to laugh. “Oh, yes, Joel, do that.”

He rubbed his head back and forth and his soft hair rubbing up against my sensitive flesh delighted me as always. The edges flicked over my most tender skin, tickling my nether regions as his tongue continued to make its wild, tantalizing trip. I sealed myself to him, raising my hips and then wrapping my legs around his neck. I bucked and arched until he brought both hands up higher and used his short nails to graze my ribs so that I was in tickling heaven. Laughing with wild abandon, I came on his face, now rocking against him to the rhythm of my choosing.

Even though I had crested, Joel didn’t show any sign of letting up. His relentless fingers actually pressed harder now as he continued tickling me. Laughing uncontrollably, I squirmed in his embrace and tried to pull away, but he didn’t let go.

The look in my husband’s eyes let me know that he wasn’t going to stop until we both had reached our limits. Lifting his mouth off me just long enough to swivel into a sixty nine position, he said, “I want to feel it, too.”

He didn’t have to give me any more instruction than that. I fumbled behind me for the stem of one of the abandoned flowers, and then using the lightest possible touch, I began rubbing the millions of tiny blooms against Joel’s balls. He sighed so deeply that the whole bed shook.

“Oh, God,” he whispered. “Oh, Andrea . . . ”

I kept up the caress with the petals, imagining exactly what he was feeling. I knew perfectly well how surprising that softness felt against that most tender skin. He loved every second of the silky massage and groaned out the words, “Don’t stop!”

I wouldn’t have stopped even if he’d remained silent. I could tell by the way his body had stiffened just how turned on he was. “It’s like thousands of tiny fingers!” he exclaimed, his mouth a sliver of space from my pussy.

“Mm hmm,” I murmured back to him, agreeing with the statement as I opened my mouth and drew his cock inside. My warm lips connected with the warmth of his skin and I traced my tongue along his shaft before swallowing his entire length. I continued to use the flowers to tickle his balls as my mouth sucked hard on his prick. Joel didn’t seem to know what to do. He was reaching ecstasy, and he gripped my hips and fucked my mouth as I played the blossoms over his skin.

I thought of how he had used the flowers on me, lightly and then more firmly, and I altered the pressure with which I stroked his sac. I knew that some of the tickling petals were finding the valley between his asscheeks and caressing him there, and this image combined with the heady contact of his tongue on my clit made me come a second time. My orgasm flared through me like a whirlwind and I sucked his cock even harder and let the flowers stroke him more firmly. This combination of pleasures brought him to his peak, and when he came in my mouth he groaned out loud, calling out my name as the sheer thrill of it all flooded through him.

“Oh, yes, Andrea,” he moaned loudly, “Oh, yes!” His whole body shook, and then he rolled over, fell back on the bed and sighed deeply.

I looked at him, smiling and blushing at the same time, and then I looked around. As we’d played with the stalks, the flowers had shed, and now the petals covered the comforter in a snowstorm of tiny pink shreds. It was as if we’d made love on a bed of the fragrant blooms, and their scent lingered in the air. The scene was both beautiful and debauched.

After a moment, I lay back next to Joel, crushing the petals underneath me and smelling their lush fragrance perfuming the air. It was such a decadent moment, feeling so sated and surrounded by their scent. My body felt tender all over from being so perfectly tickled, and my pussy still tightened and opened with powerful echoes of the pleasure that my husband and those magical flowers had brought me.

Looking over at me, my husband gave me his most charming smile. Then as he reached over to bring me to him, wrapping me in a tight embrace, all he said was, “You know, Andrea, I thought that this spot just might tickle your fancy.”


My wife, Rose, loves to be tickled. Nothing gets her hotter or wetter than having my wiggling fingers play over her underarms, tummy, ribs or the soft soles of her super ticklish feet!

When I bring out the furry wrist and angle cuffs, her eyes widen in anticipation. She quickly strips and lies down, surrendering herself to me as I strap the cuffs to the head and footboards of our bed. The cuffs keep her from flailing about too much as I slowly and methodically work every inch of her ticklish body, bringing her to fits of uncontrollable laughter.

After I fasten the restraints she playfully pulls at them, testing their strength. Every time I see her lying there, arms stretched taut over her head, legs spread apart and bound, prime tickle spots vulnerable, I remember the day that I discovered my wife s ticklish secret.

We had been married for about a year. We were very much in love, and in bed things were good, but sort of vanilla. While I d had some experience with bondage and spanking, those weren t things that Rose had ever shown interest in. I didn t suspect that Rose had any fetishes until that Saturday.

We were out shopping for a wedding present for my friend, Joe. It had become a tradition with my friends to buy two wedding gifts: one real gift and one joke. At our wedding Joe had given us a microwave oven, along with a set of furred restraints.

Getting the real gift had been easy enough, since we knew where they were registered. For the joke gift, I had talked Rose into going to an adult gift shop with me. After checking out the selection of magazines and dildos, I was starting to get aroused, especially with my wife next to me giggling and pointing.

I was looking at an inflatable doll and laughing as I imagined Joe unwrapping it on the day of his wedding, when I realized Rose had vanished. Looking across the store, I saw her over by the videos staring intently at a tape. I went over and asked her what she d found.

When Rose heard me, she jumped and hurriedly put it back on the rack, trying to hide it among the others. Oh, just some porn tape. But I could see by her reaction that it wasn t just any porn tape. Her cheeks were flushed and she was breathing quickly, like she does when she s aroused. I picked up the tape. On the box was a buxom blonde, hanging from her wrists, screaming with laughter as a man tickled her. Could this be what had excited her so?

Rose pressed close to me, so close I could feel her heart beating fast, and stared down at the tape, smiling dreamily.

You like this, don t you? I asked.

What? she giggled. Oh God, no! I m too ticklish to stand anything like that! As she professed her ticklishness I could see through her light knit top that her nipples were hard. I had never seen her so aroused. I gave her a devilish grin and raised my hands to her sides, tweaking her ribs. Instead of the yelp and flinch I expected, she let go the sweetest giggle and squirmed.

Stop, not here, she purred.

Not here? I teased, still tickling her. Where then?

Home. She took my hands from her sides and, no longer able to conceal her excitement, kissed and nibbled my palm. With a seductive wink, she turned and walked to the door, hips swaying. I followed, the hardness in my jeans throbbing as I walked.

As soon as we got into the car, Rose leaned over and kissed me hungrily, her hand gently caressing the bulge in my lap. Honey, she breathed in my ear, I am so hot right now. Then she kicked off her sandals and rested her bare feet in my lap, rubbing my erection with her heels as she leaned back against the door.

Even through the denim, her feet caressing my hard cock felt wonderful. I walked my fingertips up and down her soles and she squealed with laughter, but didn t pull away. I drew my fingernails up her feet, from her heels to her wiggling toes, making her gasp and moan. All the way home, Rose teased my manhood with her feet as I tickled them. Or sometimes I would reach over and tickle her tummy and she would giggle, shriek and grind her hips provocatively.

We pulled into our driveway and I chased her to the front door, grabbing at her ribs, both of us laughing like giddy teenagers. As I tried to unlock the door, she poked her fingers into my ribs and I jumped, dropping the keys.

Hey, that s not fair! I chuckled.

She quickly snatched up the keys and opened the door. Well, you ll just have to come get revenge, won t you? she called as she ran upstairs to the bedroom with me in pursuit.

Once there, she dove onto the bed and stretched before me like a pampered kitten. Kneeling beside her, I pulled up her top, exposing her perfect breasts. She giggled, her lean body undulating as she watched my hands descend toward her midsection, my fingers wiggling. My teasing hands crept closer and closer until finally I dug my fingers into her ribs.

At my touch, Rose bucked and roared with laughter, grabbing the headboard to keep herself from curling up into a protective ball, taking my tickling full force. My fingers flew over her ribs and tummy until, reflexively, she brought her arms down and tried to roll onto her side to escape me.

Remembering Joe s joke wedding gift, I leaped from the bed and went into the closet and emerged with the furry cuffs. Pouncing on Rose, I undid her shorts and pulled them off her legs along with her panties. She was already wet from all the tickling. Pulling off her top, I straddled her waist and fastened her wrists to the headboard.

When she was secure, I started at her wrists, just below the cuffs. My fingertips trailed down her arms, slow and featherlight. Rose shuddered and whimpered, biting her lower lip. When my fingers reached her elbows, she stiffened and pulled at the cuffs. Then, when my hands clawed down her inner arms to attack her smooth armpits, she convulsed and howled, thrashing wildly underneath me as I tickled her mercilessly. Her heavy breasts rolled from side to side as she danced under my tickling fingers. Leaning down, I took a hard nipple into my mouth and teased it with my tongue, my hands still exploring the hollows under her arms.

Her thrashing eased in an attempt not to pull her nipple away from my lips, but her laughter grew even louder. Seeing that her nipples were also ticklish, I brushed the tip of my index finger over a hardened nub, bringing her reaction up another notch. Rose babbled as I moved back and forth, licking and tickling each nipple in turn. My cock strained at my jeans and after a few minutes I sat up and took off my shirt, sweating from the heat of our excitement.

Suddenly, I felt something touch my ears. When I turned, I saw that Rose had raised her long legs and was tickling my ears with her toes. In response, I grabbed the other set of cuffs. I bound her ankles to the bottom bedposts, wide apart so that her wet sex was fully visible, and then I stripped off the rest of my clothes. Then, diving on her again, I dug my fingers into her hips. With her ankles tied, she could only writhe helplessly.

Rose kept giggling, her head wagging. Her pussy was so close to my face, its scent so inviting, I wanted to start licking and eating her right then, but I had more tickling planned for her first. My fingers rustled through the soft down that covered her mound then slid down her inner thighs to her knees.

Honey, please! she pleaded, her pussy trembling, the lips swollen and red. I m so wet, I need you now!

I know, baby, I comforted, but there are just so many more places to tickle first! Her legs trembled when I found the delicate spot behind her knees, bringing a new wave of laughter from her. Squeezing her kneecaps, my fingers continued down her legs.

Oh, God! Not my feet! I don t think I can take it! Rose yelled as I tickled my way toward her soles. Every inch of her had become ticklish, making her feet hypersensitive. With the lightest touch, I ran my fingertips over the silky tops of her clenched feet and along the tiny cleavage between her toes. As I gently caressed the tips of each toe, building up tension, she roared and shook.

Then, just when the tops of her feet had become accustomed to the sensation, I drew one fingernail up each sole. It was as if every nerve of her body had caught fire in the same instant she bellowed and quaked, tears running down her reddened cheeks. Watching her hips grind against the bed as I tickled her feet, I could no longer hold myself back.

I lunged face first for her hot, quivering pussy. As my hands scratched at her soles, I slid my tongue between her slick lips. Rose went wild from the combined assault of the tickling and my tongue deep inside her. Screaming with laughter and convulsing, she came in great heaving groans.

I lapped up every drop of her sweet juice as she lay there moaning, her body still trembling. Then, freeing her ankles and taking her feet in my hands, I spread her legs wide apart and plunged my cock into her cunt. Thrusting in as deeply as I could, I tickled her soles again. Rose cried out as her hips bucked, fucking me back. Her feet and pussy were even more sensitive now, and soon low, lusty laughter echoed in our bedroom as she surrendered to my fingers, spasming in ecstasy.

Closing my eyes, I became lost in the feeling of her velvety pussy walls pulsing over my stiff cock and the sweet sound of Rose s laughter. It wasn t long before I came explosively, shock waves rippling through my tensed body.

After I freed Rose s wrists, we lay there for the rest of that afternoon, cuddling and tickling each other. From that day on, our nights have been filled with the music of my wife s laughter as I play her ticklish body like a fine instrument.

Mr. Walter K., Salem, Oregon

Fingers & Feathers

Can I peek?” Justin asked, one hand resting on the edge of his black leather blindfold.

“Not yet,” I told him. “I’m just putting on the finishing touches.” I wasn’t quite ready to reveal my secret. Soon enough, my boyfriend would discover the sexy surprise that awaited him. I knew that one look in my direction would tell him exactly how I wanted to spend the evening. That’s because whenever I crave an evening of ticklish torture, I wear a feather boa.

Tonight I chose one of my favorites. Made of richly dyed ostrich feathers, the cobalt blue boa adds a bit of old fashioned glamour to any outfit. This evening, I paired it with a slim fitting black dress and a pair of high heels with delicious marabou fluff on their toes.

“All right,” I said, finally ready. “You can peek now.”

Justin slid off the blindfold and stared at me. “Oh, Tanya,” he sighed.

Glancing at myself in the mirror, I thought I had the appearance of some fantasy bird. My blue eyes matched the dark color of the feathers, and my long glossy hair echoed the midnight black fabric of the dress.

Catching the hungry look that Justin was giving me, I realized we weren’t going to make it to our dinner reservation. Coming forward, he shook his head at me as if he couldn’t believe his good luck, and then he silently stripped off my dress and let it fall to the floor. I waited, holding my breath to see what he would do next. Justin observed me with his head cocked, taking in the fact that I was braless. Then he nodded his approval, leaving me in the boa and my garter set. I wasn’t wearing any panties, just a pair of stockings and a garter belt that rivaled the vibrant blue of the boa.

“Keep on the shoes,” he instructed. “I want to feel those feathers against my legs when I fuck you.” As soon as he said the words, I wanted to feel that, too, wanted to rub my feet up and down his muscular calves to send shivers throughout his body shivers that I knew I would benefit from, as well.

“On the bed, Tanya,” Justin said, motioning to our king size canopy.

I obeyed instantly, noting how wet I was as I walked across the room. I’d actually turned myself on by choosing the outfit, and my pussy was dripping, the silky juices already coating my bare pussy lips.

Once I was sprawled out on the middle of the mattress, Justin used one edge of the six foot long boa to bind my wrists together over my head. That left plenty of free material to run along my naked body. And that’s exactly what he did next, trailing the feathers along my extended arms down to the hollows of my armpits, making me laugh and try uselessly to squirm away.

“That tickles, doesn’t it?” Justin asked. Although he was stating the obvious, it was apparent to me that he wanted to hear my answer. Or at least to hear me respond through the waves of giggles.

“Oh, yes,” I finally managed to sigh, my body trembling from the continued tickling caresses. “It tickles so much.”

“But you like it?” he asked.

I nodded, biting into my bottom lip to try to stifle the giggles. Still, I found myself questioning the response even as I told him yes with both my eyes and with my laughter. In truth, the feeling was almost impossible to bear. The softness of the feathers against that most ticklish region had me in a divine state of torment. Justin lingered there with the boa, moving practically in slow motion until I couldn’t help but scream. He had my whole body poised on the edge of some unknown precipice.

I wasn’t certain just how much of this I could take. I love being tickled, but Justin pushes my boundaries each and every time. The method he uses makes the soft hairs rise on the back of my neck and sends goose bumps and tremulous shudders up and down my spine. If he’d continued tickling along my ribs, I would have thrashed about and shook the bed with my motions. Luckily, this evening he didn’t torture me for too long. Instead, he seemed intent on introducing every area of my body to the caress of the soft feathers.

From the delicate dip between my collarbones to the smooth basin of my concave belly, he brushed the tantalizing plumage everywhere. Soon my entire being was alive with the nerve pleasing sensations, which is why I love to be tickled. Each place that he touched felt awakened and energized in a highly sexual way. Sometimes the feathers made me laugh and buck, but the rest of the time it felt as if Justin were stroking my body with a million tiny soft fingers. Being on the receiving end of such a pleasurable sensation made me delirious.

That’s how it always is for me. Part of me feels nervous just before it starts because there’s a fear of completely letting go that accompanies the love of being tickled. I almost lose control, unable to make my body behave. When Justin starts running his fingers over my skin, I shiver all over and my clit swells larger. Giving myself over to him is the sexiest part. I know that he’ll give me exactly what I want, push me to the limit and then take me a step beyond.

That evening, he teased me for a time before he focused on the most sensitive parts of my body. He’d avoided my breasts and the region between my legs for a while, choosing instead the places that would make me laugh. I knew he was saving the best for last.

“Where do you want it now?” he finally asked, bringing the feathers upward to tickle beneath my chin.

“You know,” I told him, my voice barely louder than a hiss.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

I wanted him to part my buttocks and tickle my asshole with the feathers, but I decided to start slowly, to build up to that ultimate pleasure.

“Tickle my breasts,” I begged. “Run the feathers over my nipples.” I arched my back, trying to help him, but Justin needed no assistance. As the boa brushed over my breasts, it made my rose pink nipples stand up firm and erect. For a moment, Justin observed my body’s reaction. Then he followed the teasing, tickling feathers with the pointy tip of his tongue, licking in languorous circles around my hard nipples before he opened his mouth and sucked. The wetness of his mouth made me squirm, wordlessly begging for more.

“You like that, don’t you, Tanya?” he asked, moving his mouth away just long enough to pose the question. When I nodded, he continued. “Tell me what you want.”

I knew what he wanted to hear, but all I managed to say was, “Don’t stop.” But he was right, I wanted more. I needed to feel those feathers down lower, between my legs. Honestly, I wanted him to take the whole fucking length of the boa and rub it along the split of my body, right between my thighs, moving the entire feathered rope slowly back and forth. I could easily imagine all those tiny fluffs tickling my inner thighs, my shaved pussy lips and my asshole. There is nothing more delicious than that feeling. Nothing except Justin’s cock when he enters me after I’ve been tickled almost to the point of orgasm, to where my body is trembling from any light touch at all.

“Where should I go next?” he asked, wanting me to choreograph the trip that the feathers were making over my body.

“Touch my pussy,” I begged.

“Just touch?”

“Tickle,” I amended, craving the feel of his slightly callused fingertips spreading open my slippery lips, of the tip of the boa tapping out a pleasing rhythm directly on top of my pulsing clit.

“Like this?” he asked, and at his words, he made my fantasy come true. Quickly, he parted my pussy lips with two fingers, spreading me wide so that I could enjoy the experience of being opened. Then, with his other hand, he maneuvered the tip of the boa so that it tickled against the insides of my labia, the mouth of my pussy and my clit.

“Just like that,” I told him.

“I’m going to tickle you until you come,” Justin promised, and I gave a harsh sigh of pleasure at the thought. Usually, we incorporate tickling into our lovemaking as an added bonus, but I’d never been able to climax from just that experience. Now Justin seemed ready to make sure that I reached that plateau through tickling alone. Well, maybe not exactly “alone” his tongue was going to help out in the endeavor. He moved between my legs so that his mouth was just a breath away from my pussy. Then he began to take turns touching me with the boa and flicking out his tongue to find my clit. Touch and flick. Tickle and lick. I was in heaven at the sensations.

“You’re getting so wet,” Justin murmured before sliding his tongue up inside me, probing me with it. His tongue tickled me further, moving so lightly against my inner walls that it almost felt like a long, firm feather. He traced it deep into my pussy, then withdrew and resumed the feather tickling of my pussy lips and clit. I was getting closer to coming, and I lifted my hips off the bed, pressing my cunt firmly against his mouth and then sliding back down as he used the feathers alone on my flesh.

Suddenly, I realized that I still had my shoes on. Using my legs, I held Justin gently to me and let him feel the feathered tips of the mules against his skin. He shivered as I ran my feet up and down the backs of his thighs. His hair brushed against me, sending fresh shudders through my body.

“Use your tongue again,” I begged, wanting to feel those endless, spiraling circles over my clit, knowing that if he gave me what I asked for, I would explode in a bed shaking orgasm.

Justin followed my request, but he didn’t stop there. He moved the boa lower so that it was between my legs, and he rubbed it back and forth along my inner thighs while concentrating on eating me. The tickling feathers made me laugh again, but this was different. This move brought me to the edge, and as he tongue fucked and tickled me simultaneously, I finally came, climaxing hard against his mouth. My laughs turned to husky moans as my body arched and released, slamming forward as I sealed myself to him. Nothing in the world feels better than that. Well, nothing, except for what Justin did next.

“Sweet baby,” my handsome boy friend crooned, moving up in the bed and kissing my lips. “You love that, don’t you?” For a moment, I simply enjoyed the luscious, heady taste of my own pleasure on his tongue. “You do, don’t you?” he said.

“Yes,” I murmured, my body recovering slowly from the thrill it had just experienced. My skin still felt the prickly aftershocks, and I worked hard to get my breathing rate back to normal.

“What do you like the most?” he asked as he carefully unwound the boa from my wrists.

“The release,” I managed to tell him. That was it, truly. Putting myself in his hands and trusting him completely. Letting him take me to the final frontier of pleasure.

“You like the boa against your pussy,” he stated, and then he moved me so that I was on my side. “But wouldn’t you like to try it somewhere else?”

As he asked the question, he moved me further so that I was lying on my stomach. Then he got between my legs behind me. Swiftly, he threaded the boa through my legs, exactly as I’d pictured earlier. With one hand on each side of my body, he slid the tickling feathers back and forth. The tiny, now dampened fluffs felt amazing against my inner thighs, on my pussy and as I’d imagined between the cheeks of my ass. To add to the experience, Justin let go of one end of the boa and used his free hand to hold open my buttocks. Then he pulled it slowly back and forth, concentrating on letting me feel those feathers tickle and tease my exposed anus.

“Such a delicious asshole,” Justin murmured. “Do you like when I tickle it?” I couldn’t even respond to his question. The sensations he imparted were almost overwhelming, and I could feel myself relaxing into the erotic massage.

Justin took his time, letting me bask in the experience. The feathers tickled up and down, and then he made a circling motion with them, right around the rim of my asshole. I could have come on the spot if he’d simply flicked his hand around beneath me and touched my clit. But he had other plans.

“I’m going to fuck you while I tickle you,” he said as he brought his hard cock into the action. By moving the boa slightly aside he was able to enter my cunt from behind, keeping the feathers in their continually tickling rotation against my asshole by moving his hands back and forth. I knew that he could feel the feathers against his own skin, on the base of his cock and his balls, and from the way he thrust inside me, I could tell that he liked it. Sighing, Justin probed me with his cock, moving in rhythm to the way that he was maneuvering the boa. His cock throbbed inside of my cunt, driving in deep and then withdrawing at a slow, steady pace as the feathers against the rosebud of my asshole made me catch my breath. The tiny fluffs tickled between my cheeks, making me clench hard and release in a repeated motion, which rewarded Justin as my pussy contracted each time on his cock. All I could think was how sexy those naughty feathers felt, and how indecent it was to be opened and tickled in such an exposing way. The feeling was both dreamy and so fucking dirty that I knew I would come again in no time.

Justin knew this, too. Fucking me faster, he kept up the delicious teasing with the feathers, and soon we were on the verge of coming. I could sense the heat between us, almost as if we were wrapped up in an aura of electricity. His friction against my body made me feel as if my nerve endings were humming.

Justin started us off, driving into me and then shooting, the feathers still doing their job against my skin, growing more wet and matted from the combination of our juices. I let myself ride on the rush of Justin’s climax, feeling his cock throbbing, the rhythm of his thrusts slowing down as the ripples of pleasure tripped through me. Then I was coming with him, my pussy squeezing his shaft and making him moan as the power of my orgasm extended his. We dove deep into the waves together until ultimately, we were through it, and spent.

Justin wrapped me in his arms, and together we were bound as one, caught in a sticky web of feathers and come. We lay like that for several moments, just trying to regain our senses. But finally, Justin rolled over and looked into my eyes.

“I could call you Tickle Me, Tanya,” he said, laughing at his own clever joke.

“You could,” I agreed. “But this is one doll that won’t ever be on the market,” I promised, smiling in return.


My name is Marylou and I m twenty one years old. A while back, Jason, my boyfriend, went out to California to visit his cousin, Rob, and came back with a stack of Variations. Boy, was I ever knocked for a loop! We have nothing at all like Variations in this small rural community. I was just amazed by all the different things that turn folks on. But I was also really pleased, because reading your book made me realize that my special turn on is not as weird as I once thought it was. You see, what does it for me, what makes my little pussy all warm and squishy, is a good hard tickling.

I ll never forget the first time I got tickled and discovered just how crazy horny it made me. Jason and I were on the back porch of his uncle s house, rocking gently on the swing and enjoying the cool breeze of a beautiful summer evening. I was in one of my playful moods and itching to get a rise out of Jason, who can be a little too serious at times. So what I did was to tease him about his new haircut, suggesting that next time he visit a barbershop instead of having someone use a dull pair of scissors and a serving bowl.

Now you must understand that Jason is very, very concerned with his looks. He thinks of himself as a hunk, and at six feet four inches with a body made solid from farm work, he s got reason to think that way. And I must admit he s good looking, with nice even features and such a friendly smile. But his new haircut what a disaster!

He took the piece of straw he had been chewing out of his mouth and said to me, Are you trying to get my dander up, or something?

Or something, I said with a grin. I gave Jason a good poke in the ribs and then took off real quick, hopping off the swing and scooting down the porch steps before he could answer my poke with one of his own. I hurried toward the barn. Now, I m a petite girl, barely five feet tall, and with a head start I figured there was no way my brawny boyfriend would catch me unless I let him, of course. But I guess I momentarily forgot that despite his size Jason is pretty fast on his feet, because all of a sudden I was grabbed from behind and wrestled to the ground. And the next thing you know he s sitting on me, facing my bare feet.

He wrapped one of his big hands around my feet, at the ankles, and held them together like that. I could not see what he was up to because his broad back was blocking the view. But then I felt something crawling over the soles of my feet, up and down and from side to side. The straw! Jason was tickling my feet with the pieces of straw he had been chewing on earlier! The effect was dramatic, as I started squirming under him, or trying to, anyway, and squealing like a stuck pig.

I didn t know you were ticklish, Marylou, he said. Your giggling is cute.

I didn t know how nice it was but my giggling was certainly loud, and nonstop. And it didn t help any when Jason did a number on my toes with that straw, reciting , And this little piggy . . . as he went from one to the other, winding the straw over, under and between my toes. I was almost out of breath from laughing so hard and so much when he turned around so that he was sitting facing me. He looked down and grinned.

I had on my denim cutoffs and a halter top, which left my tummy exposed and vulnerable. Hmm, what have we here? Jason said. A smooth, flat tummy ripe for a tickling. And some prime ribs. Before I could even think of pleading for mercy he was going at my stomach and ribs, using not the straw this time but his calloused fingers and an evil cunning and finesse that was truly surprising. I tried swatting him away with my arms flailing like crazy, but he simply caught my wrists and held them together above me while with his free hand he continued to tickle me, going now for my underarms.

It was around this time that I became aware of something other than the sensation of being tickled. And that something was an honest to goodness tingling at my pussy. I was getting wet, my pussy warming up like water in a kettle. And my nipples under the halter were getting as hard as pebbles. The tickling was turning me on, making me ache for Jason s big, beautiful cock. It was so weird. Even as I was laughing hysterically I was picturing him ramming the full length of his proud cock into my hungry pussy, making me groan with joy as he had done often in the past.

Pl Please, Jason, I gasped between heavy breaths. Please . . .

Please stop tickling you? he asked.

Yes. And start fucking me. Please.

He seemed pleasantly surprised at this request and stopped tickling me to curl his large hand over my crotch, which he found hot to the touch and wet, as my pussy juices had seeped clear through the denim of the cutoffs. Hey, my girlfriend gets turned on by being tickled. Hot damn. Without another word, Jason scooped me up off the ground and carried me into the barn. Putting me on my feet, he told me to get naked, which I did in a hurry.

Jason hurried to get naked, too, then lifted me up onto a small bale of hay and put me in the doggy position. His big cock was completely hard and sticking out from his loins like some kind of battering ram. I couldn t wait to enjoy the familiar stretching of my little pussy as he worked his monster cock inside me. But Jason was in a wicked mood and started tickling the sensitive soles of my feet again. Itchy, kitchy, koo, he said, laughingly.

No, no more, honey, I begged as I started to giggle. I need you inside me. Fuck me.

Jason relented, thank goodness, and a moment later the large round head of his cock was tickling my pussy lips. He pushed inside me, slowly, like always, and then, sure that I was ready, he began sawing his cock in and out of my happy hole.

Lord, you are so hot and wet, Marylou, he said. From now on I m going to give you a good tickling before we have sex.

I didn t respond to that because I was so focused on Jason s big cock going in and out of my pussy. It felt extra good, this time, and I moaned with happiness as he continued doing me doggy style, which is our favorite position. When I was very close to coming I started pushing back to greet his thrusts and asking him to do it harder and faster. Like always, Jason listened to me and right away started banging into me with all his might, which is a lot.

I came really hard, my little pussy contracting around Jason s cock, and that set him off. I heard that familiar growl of his and then his big hands tightened on my hips and he exploded inside me. It had been one of our most intense sessions and I knew the tickling was the reason.

Later, as we walked back to the porch hand in hand, I wondered where Jason had gotten the idea to tickle me. From one of those Variations, he said. There was a letter from a girl who loved to be tickled because it made her so hot for sex. I made a note to try it on you and tonight turned out to be the perfect time. He paused, then smiled, and it looked like he was thinking about something. There was also a whole story about a girl who liked to be tied up and then screwed in the ass. Maybe . . .

I had to laugh. I don t think so, honey. Let s stick to the tickling for the time being. With that, I jumped up into his arms and he carried me the rest of the way to the porch, where we sat until it got dark. Already I was thinking about the next time Jason tickled me. And then I thought of the big feather on favorite hat.

Ms. Marylou S., Winner, South Dakota