This is a totally fictional story. It features a fantasy version of a character from a real-life story but never really happened, and any names aren't the actual names of real-life people. The real-life story the characters come from is at http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?302994-Tickled-out-of-my-chair-in-the-library-(F-M)
It was cold and rainy outside as I stood inside the bus shelter and as usual the bus was nowhere to be seen. Ordinarily I would have just walked the mile and a half back to my apartment but I had four bags of groceries and wouldn't be able to hold an umbrella. I looked at the timetable, looked at my watch, looked back at the timetable again. The bus should have been here 15 minutes ago, the next bus should be here soon.
A few more minutes passed, as did a bus so crowded that the driver didn't even bother to stop. Fabulous. I was looking at the timetable to see when my next chance at playing the bus lottery would come when I heard a car pull up to the bus stop and roll down its' passenger window. A voice called out "Hey, need a ride?" so I turned around to face the car. It was Allison, my "friend" from the library incident a few months ago sitting in the driver's seat of a powder blue sedan. "I'm waiting for the bus," I responded. "Typical. I'll take you home if you help me carry some stuff up to my apartment," she said.
I hesitated for a moment. I wasn't exactly afraid of her but I did recall what happened the last time we saw each other. Maybe she could sense my nervousness or more likely she just didn't want to stay parked in the bus stop forever, because she sarcastically said "Come on, it's not like I'm going to hurt you or something. You know how unpredictable the buses are here, get in." With that, I opened up the passenger door of the car and got in. Her car was one of those behemoth 80s cars that had a front bench seat and the gear shifter on the steering column. The back seat of the car was full of her own stuff so I sat my groceries down on the front seat between us. I closed the door, put on my seat belt, and waited for her to drive off but she told me "You should put those in the floor in case I have to hit the brakes suddenly. I don't want stuff to spill in my car." I moved the groceries into the floor and she drove off.
"So, where do you live?" she asked me. I gave her the address, and she responded that it was only a few blocks away from her own apartment building. The trip was pretty uneventful, she pulled into a space in her building's parking garage and shut off the engine. I took off my seatbelt and pulled the door handle, but nothing happened. I pulled up on the lock stem but it just fell back down and the door still wouldn't open. She noticed my door frustrations and informed me "Oh, that door lock is broken, there's a trick to getting it open." She unfastened her own seatbelt and leaned over me, giving me a face full of hair and somehow convinced the stubborn door to open. As she leaned back to get out of the car herself, one of her elbows brushed across my chest. It was probably accidental but it was enough to get a chuckle out of me, causing her to say "Sorry, I forgot how sensitive you are."
We both got out of the car, and she started handing me bags of stuff to carry up to her place. Her apartment was a pretty standard one bedroom, a bit messy but nothing out of place for a college student pad. I set down the bags and started to head back downstairs when she asked "Could you help me put a few things up in the cabinets? I have to use a step stool to do it but I think you could reach up there without one." I agreed, and helped her put away groceries. The last item left was a package of paper towels, which she asked me to place on the top shelf in the bathroom. I walked into said bathroom and started trying to get the paper towels onto the shelf, which proved to be a challenge even for me at 6'2" tall, the building was an older building with high ceilings and for some reason the builders had built shelving nearly all the way up to the top.
I was still struggling with the paper towels when I noticed her walk in and stand behind me. "How are you going to reach these all the way up here?" I asked. "What, now you're making fun of me for being short?" she responded, but before I could say anything she reached up and placed one fingertip in each of my armpits and started to gently trace little circles. "Eek!" I exclaimed, and then involuntarily let go of the paper towels. The package of towels fell, bouncing off the top of my head and onto the top of hers. "What did you that for?" she shouted at me. "You were tick-HAHAHA!" I started to explain before feeling that all too familiar sensation of five fingertips squeezing at each of my hyper-sensitive sides.
"You need to learn to be more careful. What if that had been something heavy instead of paper towels. You could have seriously injured both of us!" Allison scolded me like an elementary school teacher disappointed in a student while she kept up her ticklish assault on me. I was stuck against the bathroom shelving, the only place I could go was into the bath tub which would just have me on the ground again so I buried my face into some wash cloths on the shelf and accepted my fate with much laughter.
After a few minutes of tickling my sides she relented and then commanded "Pick up those paper towels you dropped earlier and get them on the shelf like I asked you to earlier." She left the room, I picked up the package of paper towels and tossed them onto the shelf like a basketball, getting out of this vulnerable situation before she decided to tickle me again. I walked out of the bathroom and said "I'm ready to leave, I should probably get my groceries home and get started on homework." She picked up her keys off the table and walked toward the door, stopping to give me one quick belly poke before heading down the stairs. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. Your laugh is just too cute," she said. I followed her back to the parking garage and got back into the car.
We arrived at my apartment building, she parked the car on the street. I thanked her for the ride, unfastened my seat belt, and attempted to exit the car, looking forward to the end of this laughter-filled adventure. Oh, right, the trick door handle. The earlier entertainment had caused me to forget about that, and when she let me out of the car at her place my view was obscured by her hair so I wasn't able to see how she got it to open. "Well, we're at your place, I guess you can get out now so I can go back home," she said in a tone too mischievous for comfort.
I fumbled around with the car door some more, getting it to squeak a few times but it wouldn't open. "Oh, I guess you don't want to leave me? Having too much fun?" Allison said. "Maybe I should give you some encouragement." And once again she started tickling, this time going after my neck. I fumbled around with the door some more, my efforts being slowed down by my reactions to the tickling. "You really like doing this, don't you?" I managed to choke out in between bouts of laughter. She looked straight into my eyes and said "I think you're the one who likes it. You just keep doing things that make me have to do this to you." She moved down to my stomach, squeezing and poking, then discovering that one finger wriggling around in my belly button nearly sent me through the roof. Literally. I jumped out of the seat and bumped my head on the car's headliner, causing her to laugh and warn me to be careful. "Thanks, I'll try to keep that in mind," I reminded her with as much sarcasm as I could muster.
I was still trying to figure out this damn car door puzzle while my mind and body were both being subdued by Allison's tickly torment. "Tickle tickle! If you want me to stop, all you have to do is get out of the car. I don't have all day to keep tickling you, you know," she teased. It tickled badly enough I couldn't really focus on the car door. I was just stuck in my ineffectual tickle defense mode of trying to curl up into a ball and protect my ticklish spots, but there were just too many spots to protect. "You know you like it, if you want me to stop you're going to have to admit it!" she told me without letting up at all. Great. On one hand I did kind of enjoy it, on the other hand I really didn't want to admit to someone who was so damn good at finding my sensitive spots that I liked being tickled, lest she decide that if I liked it so much she need not bother stopping. She kept going, alternating techniques between squeezing my sides, lightly brushing her fingertips on my stomach, and poking at my sensitive belly button. I kept laughing and squirming, much to her amusement.
I couldn't take any more. She had won. I didn't want to give in, but I also didn't want to end up losing control of my bladder inside someone else's car on a public street. I gave up. I turned to face her and confessed. "I like it when you tickle me." She finally eased up, slowing down to just one finger poking at my stomach. "That's a good boy. You're right, I love to tickle. Especially guys. Even better when they're as ticklish as you are." After that, she reached over and held up the lock stem with one hand while pulling the door handle with the other. The car door opened, and she said "I know you want to play some more, but you should go put your groceries away before they spoil. See you later." I collected my groceries and got out of the car, closing the door. She drove off, and I headed upstairs to my apartment. I wondered when we would meet again.
It was cold and rainy outside as I stood inside the bus shelter and as usual the bus was nowhere to be seen. Ordinarily I would have just walked the mile and a half back to my apartment but I had four bags of groceries and wouldn't be able to hold an umbrella. I looked at the timetable, looked at my watch, looked back at the timetable again. The bus should have been here 15 minutes ago, the next bus should be here soon.
A few more minutes passed, as did a bus so crowded that the driver didn't even bother to stop. Fabulous. I was looking at the timetable to see when my next chance at playing the bus lottery would come when I heard a car pull up to the bus stop and roll down its' passenger window. A voice called out "Hey, need a ride?" so I turned around to face the car. It was Allison, my "friend" from the library incident a few months ago sitting in the driver's seat of a powder blue sedan. "I'm waiting for the bus," I responded. "Typical. I'll take you home if you help me carry some stuff up to my apartment," she said.
I hesitated for a moment. I wasn't exactly afraid of her but I did recall what happened the last time we saw each other. Maybe she could sense my nervousness or more likely she just didn't want to stay parked in the bus stop forever, because she sarcastically said "Come on, it's not like I'm going to hurt you or something. You know how unpredictable the buses are here, get in." With that, I opened up the passenger door of the car and got in. Her car was one of those behemoth 80s cars that had a front bench seat and the gear shifter on the steering column. The back seat of the car was full of her own stuff so I sat my groceries down on the front seat between us. I closed the door, put on my seat belt, and waited for her to drive off but she told me "You should put those in the floor in case I have to hit the brakes suddenly. I don't want stuff to spill in my car." I moved the groceries into the floor and she drove off.
"So, where do you live?" she asked me. I gave her the address, and she responded that it was only a few blocks away from her own apartment building. The trip was pretty uneventful, she pulled into a space in her building's parking garage and shut off the engine. I took off my seatbelt and pulled the door handle, but nothing happened. I pulled up on the lock stem but it just fell back down and the door still wouldn't open. She noticed my door frustrations and informed me "Oh, that door lock is broken, there's a trick to getting it open." She unfastened her own seatbelt and leaned over me, giving me a face full of hair and somehow convinced the stubborn door to open. As she leaned back to get out of the car herself, one of her elbows brushed across my chest. It was probably accidental but it was enough to get a chuckle out of me, causing her to say "Sorry, I forgot how sensitive you are."
We both got out of the car, and she started handing me bags of stuff to carry up to her place. Her apartment was a pretty standard one bedroom, a bit messy but nothing out of place for a college student pad. I set down the bags and started to head back downstairs when she asked "Could you help me put a few things up in the cabinets? I have to use a step stool to do it but I think you could reach up there without one." I agreed, and helped her put away groceries. The last item left was a package of paper towels, which she asked me to place on the top shelf in the bathroom. I walked into said bathroom and started trying to get the paper towels onto the shelf, which proved to be a challenge even for me at 6'2" tall, the building was an older building with high ceilings and for some reason the builders had built shelving nearly all the way up to the top.
I was still struggling with the paper towels when I noticed her walk in and stand behind me. "How are you going to reach these all the way up here?" I asked. "What, now you're making fun of me for being short?" she responded, but before I could say anything she reached up and placed one fingertip in each of my armpits and started to gently trace little circles. "Eek!" I exclaimed, and then involuntarily let go of the paper towels. The package of towels fell, bouncing off the top of my head and onto the top of hers. "What did you that for?" she shouted at me. "You were tick-HAHAHA!" I started to explain before feeling that all too familiar sensation of five fingertips squeezing at each of my hyper-sensitive sides.
"You need to learn to be more careful. What if that had been something heavy instead of paper towels. You could have seriously injured both of us!" Allison scolded me like an elementary school teacher disappointed in a student while she kept up her ticklish assault on me. I was stuck against the bathroom shelving, the only place I could go was into the bath tub which would just have me on the ground again so I buried my face into some wash cloths on the shelf and accepted my fate with much laughter.
After a few minutes of tickling my sides she relented and then commanded "Pick up those paper towels you dropped earlier and get them on the shelf like I asked you to earlier." She left the room, I picked up the package of paper towels and tossed them onto the shelf like a basketball, getting out of this vulnerable situation before she decided to tickle me again. I walked out of the bathroom and said "I'm ready to leave, I should probably get my groceries home and get started on homework." She picked up her keys off the table and walked toward the door, stopping to give me one quick belly poke before heading down the stairs. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. Your laugh is just too cute," she said. I followed her back to the parking garage and got back into the car.
We arrived at my apartment building, she parked the car on the street. I thanked her for the ride, unfastened my seat belt, and attempted to exit the car, looking forward to the end of this laughter-filled adventure. Oh, right, the trick door handle. The earlier entertainment had caused me to forget about that, and when she let me out of the car at her place my view was obscured by her hair so I wasn't able to see how she got it to open. "Well, we're at your place, I guess you can get out now so I can go back home," she said in a tone too mischievous for comfort.
I fumbled around with the car door some more, getting it to squeak a few times but it wouldn't open. "Oh, I guess you don't want to leave me? Having too much fun?" Allison said. "Maybe I should give you some encouragement." And once again she started tickling, this time going after my neck. I fumbled around with the door some more, my efforts being slowed down by my reactions to the tickling. "You really like doing this, don't you?" I managed to choke out in between bouts of laughter. She looked straight into my eyes and said "I think you're the one who likes it. You just keep doing things that make me have to do this to you." She moved down to my stomach, squeezing and poking, then discovering that one finger wriggling around in my belly button nearly sent me through the roof. Literally. I jumped out of the seat and bumped my head on the car's headliner, causing her to laugh and warn me to be careful. "Thanks, I'll try to keep that in mind," I reminded her with as much sarcasm as I could muster.
I was still trying to figure out this damn car door puzzle while my mind and body were both being subdued by Allison's tickly torment. "Tickle tickle! If you want me to stop, all you have to do is get out of the car. I don't have all day to keep tickling you, you know," she teased. It tickled badly enough I couldn't really focus on the car door. I was just stuck in my ineffectual tickle defense mode of trying to curl up into a ball and protect my ticklish spots, but there were just too many spots to protect. "You know you like it, if you want me to stop you're going to have to admit it!" she told me without letting up at all. Great. On one hand I did kind of enjoy it, on the other hand I really didn't want to admit to someone who was so damn good at finding my sensitive spots that I liked being tickled, lest she decide that if I liked it so much she need not bother stopping. She kept going, alternating techniques between squeezing my sides, lightly brushing her fingertips on my stomach, and poking at my sensitive belly button. I kept laughing and squirming, much to her amusement.
I couldn't take any more. She had won. I didn't want to give in, but I also didn't want to end up losing control of my bladder inside someone else's car on a public street. I gave up. I turned to face her and confessed. "I like it when you tickle me." She finally eased up, slowing down to just one finger poking at my stomach. "That's a good boy. You're right, I love to tickle. Especially guys. Even better when they're as ticklish as you are." After that, she reached over and held up the lock stem with one hand while pulling the door handle with the other. The car door opened, and she said "I know you want to play some more, but you should go put your groceries away before they spoil. See you later." I collected my groceries and got out of the car, closing the door. She drove off, and I headed upstairs to my apartment. I wondered when we would meet again.
