Hello everybody. My name is Sam. Sam Shepard. Samantha, really, but I’ve always preferred Sam. I admit, I was a little hesitant to share my experiences with everybody. Cosmo really had to talk me into it, but after a long time of chatting with him, and talking with my husband, I decided to. Well, I admit, part of it involved Cosmo talking with my husband and convincing him to tie me up and tickle me until I agreed (the evil bastards 😉 ), but after a few hours I agreed to share some of my stories. Cosmo has agreed to help make sure it’s done in a way that protects our Identities. Names, dates, and locations have been changed to protect the innocent. Just kidding. There are no innocents here.
So, where to begin? I suppose I should tell you a little about myself and my husband. I’ll start with myself. I’m a 30-something year old women with a killer rack (so I’ve been told) and was a cheerleader from high school all the way through university. My blond hair and blue eyes also didn’t hurt. Probably from my Swedish ancestors. I was a sorority girl through and through in university, and it was in university where I met the two loves of my life.
The first one’s name is James Shepard, by the way, and I couldn’t be happier to have him as a husband. People throw around the term soul-mate all the time, and before I met him, I thought it was a corny expression best reserved for movies and trashy women’s magazines. Then I met James, and everything just fell into place. I’ll get to how I actually met James in a short minute. First I’ll tell you about the second love of my life, and that love is…tickling!
Yeah, you’re real surprised I bet. I mean, I am posting this on a tickling forum after all. Yes, I love tickling. I love tickling people. I love watching people being tickled. I especially love being tickled myself. I just love everything about it. The pleasure, the pain, the anticipation, the begging, the power dynamic. Everything.
I was never really tickled much growing up. I was an only child, and while a few boys occasionally would goose my hips or give my side a poke (once puberty kicked in with a vengeance) it never went further than that. Sometimes it was a precursor for the guy wanting sex. Nothing wrong with that, mind you. I love and still do love sex, but tickling was just something I never really knew I was missing in my life. It was during my time in university where I experienced real tickling for the first time. I mean REAL TICKLING TORTURE. Tickling where you are howling for mercy, tears are running down your face, you’re turning as red as an apple, and your throat and lungs are burning. The type of tickling where your ready to confess your darkest sins to make it stop, and you’re not sure if your bladder is going to hold out. Real tickle torture.
Fuck, just writing this down is making me wet. The things I do for you people.
So, anyway, I joined a sorority in university, and yup, you guessed it. Tickling was part of the hazing process. It wasn’t the only thing that was done, but it’s the one you all want to hear about, I’m sure. A dozen pledges and I were stripped to our underwear and taken to the basement of the sorority house. There were actually a few pairs of what I would later learn were wooden stocks in the basement, but that wasn’t for us. No, we had a series of cots that had been set out which we were all strapped to.
Once we were all secure, in came a group of boys from our brother fraternity. It was their job, we soon learned, to tickle us, while our sorority sisters watched. I gulped, watching as two handsome young men in black robes kneeled down and began to tickle me. One used his fingers to rake my soles, while the other focused on tickling my ribs. I had never laughed so hard in my life, and it wasn’t long before I was crying out for them to stop. No dice, though. They had a job to do, and while I was given short little breaks to get a little bit of my breath back, despite my pleas, I was soon being tickled again. It was a good thing I had just bought a new, well-fitting bra that day. With all the thrashing I was doing it was a miracle my tits didn’t bust out. They were certainly jiggling like mounds of jelly with each explosive new burst of laughter. I know the guys were enjoying the show, because I could see the way their robes tented a bit around the waist. Mm…so fucking hot.
Little side note, I love seeing bulges in guys pants. Doesn’t matter if it’s a big cock or a small cock. Just knowing and seeing that object of masculine sexuality straining to break free and get relief makes me excited every time.
Of course, I wasn’t the only one going being tickled out of my mind. I could hear the laughter and screams of the girls around me. I know was probably just my frenzied imagination, but I swear each girl must have been horrible ticklish, with me being the most ticklish of the lot. Except for maybe the girl at the very end on the left. She did actually pee herself.
It seemed to go on forever. By the time it stopped, my sides ached, and my lungs were burning. My face was streaked with tears, looked like a tomato, and beaded in sweat. I was shaking from the endorphine rush, my face hurt from laughing, and I swore I didn’t want to ever smile or laugh again for the rest of my life.
It…was…Awesome!
After that, I was hooked. I found a whole new world, and deep dived into tickling. As luck would happen, I got a roommate, named Maria. She was/is an incredibly hot and curvy Puerto Rican girl with tits as nice as mine, an even fuller ass, and lovely dark skin with long, straight, black hair. We became very “closeâ€, and she eventually grew to love tickling like I did, though she preferred to be the person dishing out the tickles. Maria is highly competitive (something she gets from having 3 other sisters) and if you want her to be on the receiving end of being tickled, it usually means besting her in some manner. Or challenging her. Or tricking her.
As you might imagine, once I was a full-blown sorority sister, I made sure I was involved in the tickle hazing aspects of the sorority. I also pushed (and was successful) in advocating the use of tickling during some of the somewhat-playful sorority/fraternity wars/competitions we had on campus. Maria and I weren’t the only two into tickling, but I’ll save some of those raunchy stories for later.
So, now we skip two years. The one I’m going to get to now is how I met my to-be husband, James.
James is 2 years younger than myself, so I was one of the girls who was involved in hazing him when he pledged for his fraternity. I’ll be honest, James was never really what you would call your stereotypical frat guy, but he is very smart, and he saw the advantages to joining a frat.
I actually showed up a little late for the hazing of the new frat members. One more reason to always remember to keep up on vehicle maintenance, boys and girls. After I got changed into my robe and went down into the basement, I was a little surprised as there was a bit of extra excitement in the air. It didn’t take me long to find out why. I quickly noticed that while each of the laughing boys had at least one girl tickling them to hysteria, one young man had four girls surrounding him (and his hysterical laughter reflected the extra attention). I couldn’t hold back my curiosity and decided to investigate.
It took less then ten seconds to see why the girls were so interested in this skinny young man. Like many of the other young men who got tickled by women in this basement, he had become very hard. The difference was that this guy had a huge cock. Like HUGE! Biggest I and most of the girls there had ever seen, so it was getting a lot of looks. He was wearing boxershorts, so it was at least directly hidden from view (though a few girls were trying to peek down the raised pantleg), but it was impossible not to get a good idea of the length and thickness from what you could see.
This large-dicked young man was, of course, James.
You could say it was lust at first sight. I’ve already mentioned I have a thing for bulging males, and his was the biggest bulge I had ever seen. It didn’t hurt that he was pretty ticklish and I had soon gotten my claws into him, helping drive him wild with laughter. In hindsight, it’s lucky we didn’t make the poor guy piss himself.
Now, just a disclaimer here. I probably would have fallen in love with James even if he just had a normal sized dick. One of the things I’ve learned with age is that penis size really isn’t that important. Yes, you can’t deny the whole “wow†factor when you see a big swinging dick for the first time, but that wears off in time, and you realize that your relationship isn’t with what’s between the man’s leg, but the man himself.
I have had relationships with two large dicked guys before I met James. One of the guys, to be honest, thought he was god’s gift to women because he had a big dick and was handsome. That relationship ended quickly. He wasn’t even that good in bed, to be honest. The second guy was a more decent guy, but things just didn’t work out.
At any rate though, I admit, it was James large cock that first got me curious about him, and when the hazing was done and over with, I decided to pursue him. I wasn’t the only one, mind you. Word spread like wildfire in our sorority about James more notable endowments, and I had some competition. To his credit, despite the curiosity and interest some of the girls showed in him, James wasn’t handing out the hot dickings like candy. He was actually more conservative back then.
So, let me fast forward again. Sorry guys, I’m trying to get to the story, but I do want you guys to have a bit of backstory too. I swear, it’s important.
We’re going to move our story along. For those wanting the math, that made me 28 years old, and my husband 26 years old.
My husband, smart man that he is, studied computer programming, as well as a bunch of other computer related topics that are way above my head. Myself, well, I’m not an airhead, but I admit, when it comes to computers, I’m pretty basic. That said, I was still able to learn my numbers pretty well, and became an accountant. It’s not the only thing I do, mind you, but it is the main way I make money.
The benefits of both these jobs is they can be done from home. Now, we didn’t work from home to start. We both managed to find some companies that we worked for. Life was pretty decent, to be honest. We both made good money, and lived very comfortably.
Then my husband lost his job. Well, lost his job makes it sound like he did something wrong, but he didn’t. It was just a case of corporate downsizing, and even though he was good at his job, he was the least senior worker in his department, so they had to let him go.
It was around this time that we got a call from Maria. Yes, I still kept in touch with her, and trust me, if you were me, you would too. Well, Maria had got into real-estate, and she told us about this little town she thought we would love. In fact, she actually lived there (though she did spend a lot of time traveling). It was a house at the end of this cul-de-sac. You know, one of those roads that don’t have an exit. Like a straight line, and at the end it just opens up into like a big circle? To be honest, I think it looks a lot like a dick (which I think is a selling point, to be honest). Anyhow, yeah, our house would be the one at the end.
Now, this wasn’t exactly sprung on us out of the blue. We had talked about moving over the last few years. City life had a lot of good things going for it, but both James and I had been born in more rural areas. We had been raised in a more…slower life. The grind and how loud the city life was, well, it just wasn’t for us. At least not this city, in this area.
The problem with leaving the city was that we, myself in particular, are pretty liberal, particular when it comes to the bedroom. I like going to strip joints, bdsm dungeons, and all that stuff. Finding a rural area where we could enjoy ourselves seemed pretty difficult. When I mentioned this to Maria, she just laughed out loud, and told us not to worry. There was a reason she had bought her house in that area and that we wouldn’t have to worry. She wouldn’t tell us more, which is typical of Maria. If she was somebody else I would have been more concerned, but I knew Maria knows me pretty well, so I trusted her judgement.
She also used the fact that during different times of the year, she’d likely live in walking distance of us, and all the “benefits†that would come with that. That was a big selling point, not going to lie. Not as much for James, as he and Maria have a…complicated relationship. Frenemies? Is that the right word for it? We’ll tackle that in another story, perhaps.
James took a little more convincing, being the more fiscally responsible one of the two of us. However, I pointed out that selling our apartment and buying the house would give us considerably less of a mortgage to pay, and that because of our jobs, he could do work from home and make a lot more money compared to the cost of living. It wasn’t an easy sell, but after a while, he warmed up to the idea.
Soon we were headed to the town of Edenvale. I know, I know. With a name like that, you’d think it was a retirement home, but Maria crossed her heart-shaped ass and swore to her inner goddess that we’d love it, so we took a gamble. I mean, you only live once, right? What was life without a few risks?
So, one long move later, and we had begun unpacking our things when there was a knock at the door. I opened it up to find a man and woman standing there, who promptly introduced themselves as our new neighbors.
The man was named Andre, and his wife was named Felicity. I would learn that they were both personal fitness instructors, but to be honest, It wasn’t that much of a shock. Both of them were very fit looking. Andre looked like he was a pro football player (he did play football in college), and his wife (standing 6 feet tall compared to Andre’s 6 foot 6 frame), while not as muscular, was still pretty damn fit looking (she played basketball in college).
They cordially invited us, if we had the time, to come over tonight for some steaks and beers and/or wine. They liked to get to know their neighbors. Hell, we were outgoing people, and to be honest, a barbequed steak and wine sounded great. Also, and I could have been wrong, but it totally looked like Felicity was checking out James. It probably didn’t help that James was wearing sweat pants, and you could make out the way his cock was hanging down his left pantleg. Mmm…
We quickly agreed and made sure to get some decent clothing out of our boxes after they left. A few hours later, we were knocking at the door. Felicity was quick to open the door, smiling a mile wide, and greeting each of us with a hug. James was a little surprised by such a warm greeting, as was I. Given our height differences, I ended up with a massive pair of (fake) breasts pressed into my face. Not that I was complaining. Hell, I’ll take face full of tits over a handshake any day of the week. I could tell that James was a little flustered though. I put a hand on his arm and gave him a wink to steady him. I do love that man, but sometimes he needs a little bit of steadying until he reaches his comfort zone. Fortunately, he can get there fast.
We were escorted out to the back of the house, where Andre and Felicity had a lovely deck set up, with a barbeque (currently being seen to by Andre, kiss the cook apron and all) patio tables and chairs, and a hot tub! Not to mention a cooler filled with ice and bottles of beer.
Steak with potatoes, onions, and mushrooms were served up, with an accompanying shrimp ring. Corona’s, Heinikin’s, Pabst, and red wine to wash it all down. Did I mention the shrimp ring? Ok, I can see above I wrote it, but I LOVE shrimp rings. Add that to steak and wine, I’m in heaven. I couldn’t help but notice that Felicity was drinking the red wine rather quickly and seemed to be getting a little tipsy.
Felicity wasn’t the only one drinking though, and after such a lovely meal and drinks, we were all in a pretty good mood. Andre then suggested that we all enjoy the hot tub. James pointed out that we didn’t have bathing suits with us.
“Well, we don’t need to wear any.†Felicity snickered before having another sip of wine. She wasn’t plastered, but she was obviously tipsy. A slight silence followed.
Don’t get my wrong. I would have had no problems skinny-dipping. If you got it, flaunt it, as I like to say, and my husband and I have extra meat in all the right places to show off. However, I do know my husband, and I could hear him clearing his throat, trying to fill the silence. He had always been the less sexually adventurous. I took the lead.
“Well, why don’t we go have a look and see if we can find something?†I suggested. This idea was met with enthusiastic comments from Andre and Felicity, with Andre making a comment about his wife drinking a little too much (with added side-hug and kiss on her cheek) and promises that she’d behave herself when we got back.
So, we went back to our place and got dressed in our bathing suits. James tends to be a bit shy about wearing bathing trunks, as they tend to show off his massive cock once they get wet and stick to him. I honestly don’t know why. I’m the complete opposite with my body. I gave him a few words of encouragement, and we were soon back at the neighbors.
Andre was wearing a white pair of bathing trunks (and even dry I could see the outline of an impressive cock, I do admit). Felicity must have been of the same view as myself about showing off ones body, because she was wearing an extremely tiny yellow two-piece, with small triangles covering her nipples, and a g-string bottom that exposed her succulent ass. I admit, I wasn’t wearing much more, dressed (barely) in a pink two-piece. While it had a little more on top, it was as limited as Felicity when it came to my bottom. From behind, the two of us might as well have been naked! Lots of sights for the boys to soak up.
The hot tub was wonderful! I had to say, if what we had seen so far was any indicator, these were going to be great neighbors. Felicity slipped in close to James, moving up beside him, engaging him in small talk. She wasn’t pressing herself against him, but she was close enough that it wouldn’t take much for the side of her dark-skinned tit to be pressed against his arm. I must admit, they were pretty damn big. Maybe an F cup? Granted, she was a tall woman, so they still looked awesome on her without being completely out of proportion with her body. To be honest I was getting a little jealous of the attention she was paying to James. Not “get away from my husband†jealous. More like a “hey, can I have some too?†jealous.
At this point, I will be adlibbing the conversations. It has been more then a few years, so I can’t remember word for word, but I remember the general jist of everything said, and will be writing it as such. Don’t like it, too bad.
“So, what made you decide to move to our sleepy little town?†Andre asked. His wife’s attention might have been focused on my husband, but Andre kept his attention on me. He was a handsome man, and built like a bull, so I wasn’t going to complain about that. He sat opposite of myself, spread out (he was a massive man and had a lot to spread) and smiling in a friendly manner.
“On old friend talked us into it.†I said with a smile. I heard Felicity suddenly give several good laughs in response to something James said, doubling over a bit and pushing her knockers into James. The thought of my husband sucking on those big funbags of hers played over in my mind, and I couldn’t help but grin.
“That wouldn’t be Maria, would it?†Andre asked, quickly redirecting my attention.
“Yes! Do you know her?†I asked.
“Yeah, I-“
“Eheeh hey!†My husband’s laughter suddenly broke out, and I felt him jump against me.
“Ooops! Sorry!†Felicity was grinning ear to ear, and you could just tell she wasn’t sorry in the least. Then, she said the magic words. “Are you ticklish, James?â€
A tingle ran down my spine, all the way to my snatch. Whenever I hear the word “tickleâ€, I get excited. And I was getting even more excited than normal, with the combination of alcohol, exposed skin, and flirty nature of Felicity.
“He’s VERY ticklish.†I leaned over James towards Felicity, like I was whispering to her, except I was being very loud. And grinning like an idiot. Felicity had grinned right back at me. Felicity got the hint, because a second later, both of us had sandwiched James, and began tickling away.
“Aahhaaha hey hey stop!†James was struggling, as you can imagine. Of course, he was also having four large tits rubbing all over his body as he tried to protect himself while Felicity and I pressed ourselves against him to tickle him silly. I reached down a few times and found that lovely cock of his was as hard as a rock. The fact that he would likely punish me for this later, and then fuck me with that massive dick of his only made me want to tickle him more.
“Oooh! You weren’t kidding!†Felicity grinned as she continued to rub her monstrous mammaries all over the side of my husband while her hands continued to dart all over along his sides and stomach. “Kitchy kitchy koo! Kitchy kitchy koo!†She sung as her hands darted about with surprising speed, finding spots to get. Ribs, sides, hips, stomach, and armpits when they were exposed.
“Ok ok Ahahahahaha enough! Ahahaha stop!†My usually dominant husband wriggled and laughed. His laughter was getting more and more frantic, and I knew he was going to make a run for it soon. When it comes to being tickled, my husband is a runner. I’m a curler.
If it had been just me tickling, he would have tickled me back until I was curled up on the ground. If we were at home, he would have tickled me to the ground, probably continued to tickle me until I was a sobbing mess, then ordered me to the bedroom to fuck my brains out (which I would have loved). However, having Felicity help me made any counterattack he tried (and he did try to make a few on me, and to a limited degree, Felicity) was short lived as he would be pulling his arms back to try and cover up a spot he had just exposed. I have to say, Felicity was a natural at this! We were working in perfect tandem to wreck my poor hubby. If she went left, I would go for the right. She would work a spot until he tried to cover it up, and once he did, my fingers would find the newly exposed spot to keep massaging the laughter out of him.
“Ohohohohok ok Enough!†James laughed, and finally pulled himself free of our embrace. We laughed as he got up and ran to the other side of the tub, giving us a ladies a quick but detailed look at his cock straining down his pantleg. He sat down quickly, once it seemed like he wasn’t going to be chased.
“Oh my!†Felicity laughed, eyes wide as she ogled my husbands dick through his shorts. She wasn’t the only one doing any ogling though, as when James had made his break for it, he had inadvertently pulled Felicity’s top up, and now her huge mommy-milkers were out for the world to see. It took her a second to realize her situation. “Oops! Sorry, let me put the girls away.â€
Felicity seemed to read my mind, as I was thinking “Hey, take your time. No rush,†because she didn’t, putting her magnificent tits away one at a time. She was making sure we got a decent look before putting them away. I must admit, even though they were fake, they were works of art. The nipples, a slightly darker brown than her milk-chocolate skin, were perfectly round, not to mention erect. Her breasts must have been fairly large before, as she didn’t have overly-large nipples that sometimes resulted from implants. Mmm…God, she has great tits. “Sorry.†She said, with a laugh. “You know how it goes. Sometimes they have a mind of their own.â€
“Oh yeah.†I said, which is true. My own tits have spilled out more than once when I didn’t plan them to. I took a second to inspect my own, just to make sure James’s thrashing hadn’t pulled my suit aside, but they seemed to be fairly in place. I did, however, take a second to move my suit around to correct its position, making sure to press and jiggle my shiny wet breasts for everybody to see, because I could feel Felicity’s and Andre’s eyes (and my husbands of course) on me as I did. Might as well give them a little show while doing it.
Once that was done, I sat back, smiling at the men. Felicity, now that James was on the other side of the hot tub and sitting beside her husband, moved over sit beside me. I moved closer, the sides of our breasts touching. Ooh, nice!
“What about you, Sam? Are you ticklish?†Andre asked, a slight grin on his face.
Oh fuck yes, am I ticklish! I’m a tickling mans wet dream. You tickle me, and I’ll be cumming back for more, mister. You can tickle any spot you want. Multiple choice, no wrong answers. Let me have it. Just dominate me, tickle me to insanity, and then tickle me some more!
“Nope. Not ticklish in the least.†Smile a mile wide. A cocky smile, in fact. I’d done this dance a million times, and I’d loved it every time. This is the denial technique, where you say you’re not ticklish, but your body language suggests that you are indeed ticklish, and you’re almost daring the other person to tickle you. Come on big boy, use those hands and make a liar out of me.
“Oh really?†He smirked, and I could tell he was facing the eternal debate that all people face when they come to this crossroads in life. Do I put my hands on this person and tickle them, or do I just let it go?
It can be a difficult choice, especially in this day and age. Putting your hands on somebody against their will is a big no-no, even if it’s something like tickling as opposed to say outright groping. This has in the past scared away more then a few men who looked like they wanted to give me a tickling. The fact my husband has sometimes been present also caused some men to back down. We’ve decided that if this situation arises, my husband will just add in the whole, “Oh yeah, she’s super ticklish. Go nuts.†On occasion he’s added that “I love it†to that line, just to try and make sure the guy knows to go for it, but even still, we have had some get away. Or would that be I got away? Point is, no tickles for momma, and that made me a sad panda.
“Sure, she’s not ticklish.†My husband played the part well, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner.
“Yup. Not. One. Bit.†I smiled, moving closer, hands behind my back. Come on, I dare you. I double-dog dare you.
“Maybe I should find out.†He reached out for me. Both arms.
Yay!
Of course, I tried to move away, even squealing a bit. Eek! Not the tickles! Anything but the tickles! But, surprise, surprise, he caught me. I admit though I wasn’t expecting him to use one hand to pin my wrists together behind my back, while his other hand pulled me in, so I was sitting sideways in his lap, legs over his tree-trunk thigh. And speaking of wood, HELLO! It seemed Andre was a very big man in ways other than just muscle.
I didn’t have much time to dwell on the fact that my tight, curvy ass was enjoying the best seat in the house before I felt one of Andre’s massive hands pressed into my stomach. Despite having hands a basketball player would have loved, the man had a surprisingly deft touch. All five of his fingers were perfectly wiggling into my stomach, pressing with just enough pressure to make me instantly howl with laughter. Oh, this guy was good.
In hindsight, I realized just how good he was. The way he was holding me was perfect. He had control of both my arms, while at the same time, using his massive arm to support me at a 45-degree angle. I couldn’t pull away, and I could only move back so much because of his arm. His giant hand was pressing into and tickling my stomach, making sure I couldn’t lift myself up, with the limited leverage I had of my thighs on his thigh, my legs were only able to kick about in the water uselessly. Meanwhile, my backside was shaking and rubbing all over his big black cock through his swim shorts while I wriggled around like mad from the tickling. I mean, it was an impressive technique, and had I been a spectator instead of the “victimâ€, I would have greatly appreciated both the simplicity and effectiveness of the technique used.
As things were though, I was too busy laughing.
“Eheehheehahahahah oh oh oh hohohohohoahaha!†I shook with laughter, struggling to get away from the much larger, and much more powerful man. His hand was so large, his finger spread allowed him to cover a range of spots on my stomach at the same time. On top of this, he would twist his wrist ever several seconds, so his fingers deviated a bit, keeping the tickling spots moving.
“I thought you said you weren’t ticklish.†Andre said, stopping after a good thirty seconds of constant tickling.
“Aehehe th-ehehe that’s right.†I giggled like a schoolgirl as I breathed. “I’m hehehe not Tickl-eeeeehaha!†My claim fell apart as his fingers began to work into my stomach again.
Another thirty seconds, maybe a minute went by and Andre stopped again, grinning down at me. “I’m sorry, what was that?†Andre asked, innocently enough.
“I-I said…woo,†I gulped down some air. I was nowhere near breathless, but when it comes to tickling, I’ve learned it’s best to get that air into you when you can. “I said, I wasn’t t-bwhahahahahaha!†I threw my head back as Andre started up again. Oh, I knew this game. I loved this game. I knew what was going to happen, and I would play along.
“What did you say?†Andre stopped again.
“I’m…I’m not tic-ahahahahahahahahaha!†I jiggled my chest as I struggled like mad, and Andre began tickling my stomach again. Yup, he knew this game, and he was good at it. He would stop, asking me to repeat myself, and when I said I wasn’t ticklish (or tried to), he would go back to tickling me. It wasn’t just my stomach though. The man began to mix it up a bit, using his fingers to play over my ribs. He couldn’t get my armpits very well, because my hands were pulled down, but the rest of my torso was open. He worked my ribs, my flanks, my stomach, my belly button (he had to use his pink, his hands are so big), and my hips. I think he would have gone for my tits (which are indeed VERY ticklish) but didn’t because I was married. Out of the corner of my teary eye, I could see that Felicity had once again saddled up beside my husband. She seemed to be actively pushing those gorgeous fake tits of hers against his side as they spoke. My husband hadn’t protested. Who would?
“OK OK, I’M TICKLISH!†I shouted out at the top of my impressive lungs. It wasn’t so much that I wanted the game to stop. I just needed a break. Ah yes, the sad aspect of having a tickling fetish. As much as you love being tickled, you eventually hit your limit. Oh, you can drag it out. I’ve always been a physically active woman, so I’m fit. I can take a tickln’ and keep on tickn’, as they say. Even still, I have to cry uncle sooner or later.
“Are you now?†The question was tossed out like it was some sort of surprise.
“Well…†I breathed in heavy, suspecting the tickling wasn’t going to be over yet. Or at least it wasn’t going to be over if I had anything to say about it. I took my time answering though. Best to recover as much as possible when you had the chance. I’m sure Andre was enjoying the way my chest was rising and falling with each deep breath. “I…might be a little ticklish…in a few places…†I admitted with an impish grin on my face. I hadn’t told him to stop tickling me, though. He noticed.
“Oh?†He arched an eyebrow. “And where would that be?†His hand was still resting on my stomach, just the tips, and I could feel it quivering in anticipation.
“Sorry. Not telling.†And I stuck my tongue out at him. I’m a great brat when it comes to tickles. Let the game continue.
“Well-“
“WAhaahahahahha!â€
Both of us turned to see that my husband and Felicity had started horsing around as well. Felicity was currently sitting to James’ side. She was holding her hands held behind her head. She was letting him explore her sides with his fingers, while she was doing her best to keep herself exposed. This position caused her to thrust her chest out, which was a great look for her.
I could see more then a few occasions when she would twist to the left or right and bounce her breasts off his arms. Not that James’ minded. I certainly wasn’t complaining about the sight either, as Felicity was swinging those big old melons of hers around only a foot or so away from James’ face as he tried to tickle her armpits and sides. She seemed pretty ticklish, and I admit, I was getting a little jealous again about not getting to play with this buxom, milk-chocolate skinned goddess.
“Eeep!†A little tickle on my belly reminded me I had my own dark-skinned god to contend with.
“Maybe I should try and see if I can find those tickle spots?†It might have been phrased as a question, but I knew it was more of a statement if intent.
“You can try, but I doubt you’ll find many.†Knowing he’ll likely find everyone, or close to it. Yeah, I could tell, Andre was a tickler. His touch was too good, and he was really enjoying tickling me. Most guys would have tried to move unto something more…sexual by this point. Maybe some breast groping or stroking of the inner thigh. Or they would have stopped entirely. Andre seemed content, at least for the moment, to continue to just tickle the ever-loving hell out of me.
Yes, things were starting to fall int-
“Eeeheehehehehhahah!†My train of thought jumped the rails as Andre made good on his word and began to explore my ribs on my left side with that shovel had called a hand.
“Are you ticklish here?†He asked, his tone completely innocent and a considerable contrast to the playful smirk on his face. I held out for what felt like several minutes, but his fingers didn’t stop lightly tickling my side until I admitted that yes, indeed, I was ticklish on my ribs.
I was given a few seconds to recover, before his hand moved to another place, just bellow my armpit and beside (but not the side of) my breast. Once again, I fell into a fit of laughter, wriggling around and feeling that huge cock underneath my ass. Fuck, I was horny!
“Are you ticklish here?â€
“Yeeheheheehes!†I admitted after several stubborn more minutes of tickling. Again, I was rewarded with a break in the tickling, but this one was shorter than the last, and Andre found another spot to test. Oh! I knew this game as well!
For the next god only knows how long, Andre would test a new spot, tickling it while asking the same question repeatedly, until I finally answered yes. He would then move unto a next target, the small breaks between tickles getting short and shorter until it was just a constant assault of tickling fingers and my steady stream of laughter and exclamations of “yes!â€. Damn, this man was good!
Finally, Andre stopped, and I was just a rag doll in his massive arms. I was gasping for breath, my large breasts rising and falling rapidly as I tried to get the laughter out of my system and the air back in. By that point I’m pretty sure he had goosed, scrabbled, or stroked a good 70% of my body. He was thorough, that was for sure.
I blinked the tears out of my eyes. I could still hear Felicity laughing up a storm. Once I could see, I could see that she was now straddling James, sitting on his lap, clasping the sides of the pools with a death grip, as he continued to tickle her upper body. Her ass had been barely covered by the water, putting it on display as it jiggled and shimmied from laughter. I’m sure that wasn’t the only thing shaking around, as from the angle I bet James was getting a face full of those gnarly knockers as Felicity squealed and laughed.
“You know…I think I forgot some of those spots your ticklish. I might need to start over again.†Andre gave me a devilish grin that made my toes curl. Oh fuck.
“What do you think James?†Andre called out to my husband.
It took a second for James to stop tickling Felicity. She’d leaned to the side, twisting her upper body, huffing, a deep blush on her face as she’d looked over at us grinning. James had the side of his face plastered with Felicities right tit. Yeah, he was a happy camper.
I gave a whimper as James looked at me with his own devilish grin. “I think for the sake of thoroughness, you should definitely check her spots again.†He’d looked at me with those eyes he sometimes gives me that make me melt. “It’s the only way to be sure, after all.â€
“I’ll be sure to do that.†Andre turned his attention back to me. “Oh, and be sure to be thorough with Felicity too.â€
“Sounds good.†James said, grinning up at Felicity, who had been definitely giving him the “fuck me†eyes. Those eyes were promptly shut as she began laughing once again, James hands finding her shapely hips to work over.
“Well, I suppose I should get to it then.†Andre turned his eyes back to me.
“Um…could we not and say we did?†I pleaded, giving him as big a pair of puppy eyes as I could.
“Sorry. I like to be thorough.†Andre grinned.
“Ahahaha he is! He ahahahahaha really is!†Felicity howled in the background before I quickly joined her.
True to his word, Andre was very thorough. The only places he didn’t tickle were my tits, pussy, and ass, though he came pretty damn close. I know Felicity got a pretty good tickling, but I was in much worse shape. When it was done, and us ladies had recovered enough to stand, we all got out of the hot tub. I had to lean against James to help stay on my feet. Felicity seemed worn, but not as much as I. I did notice that she had her eyes glued to my husband’s erection the entire time we said our goodbyes. Not that I blame her. I admit, now that her husband was out of the water, I was checking out Andre’s bulging shorts as well. I mean, I had been sitting on it for what felt like forever, so I felt perfectly fine staring a bit as well, and it was VERY impressive.
Andre and Felicity both gave us a hug goodnight (given that I and Felicity, had been sitting on each others husband’s boners, hugs didn’t seem inappropriate) while the husbands shook hands. I wasn’t going to complain about Felicity’s tits, or Andre’s huge erection pressed against me. Oh, I LIKED our new neighbors, that was for sure!
When we got back to the house, I flopped down on the bed. I was exhausted from all the tickling. That wasn’t the only thing I was. My husband was of the same mindset, as his shorts promptly dropped. His massive cock swung out, hard and ready to be put to work. Sure, I was tired, but I was even more horny.
So, that ends my story about James' and my own first experience with our neighbors. It was a hell of a first time together, but it was certainly not the last time. Not by a long shot. I hope you enjoyed reading about it, and if you want more, please comment. Until Later, ta-ta!
Edenvale
Welcome to the Neighborhood
Welcome to the Neighborhood
So, where to begin? I suppose I should tell you a little about myself and my husband. I’ll start with myself. I’m a 30-something year old women with a killer rack (so I’ve been told) and was a cheerleader from high school all the way through university. My blond hair and blue eyes also didn’t hurt. Probably from my Swedish ancestors. I was a sorority girl through and through in university, and it was in university where I met the two loves of my life.
The first one’s name is James Shepard, by the way, and I couldn’t be happier to have him as a husband. People throw around the term soul-mate all the time, and before I met him, I thought it was a corny expression best reserved for movies and trashy women’s magazines. Then I met James, and everything just fell into place. I’ll get to how I actually met James in a short minute. First I’ll tell you about the second love of my life, and that love is…tickling!
Yeah, you’re real surprised I bet. I mean, I am posting this on a tickling forum after all. Yes, I love tickling. I love tickling people. I love watching people being tickled. I especially love being tickled myself. I just love everything about it. The pleasure, the pain, the anticipation, the begging, the power dynamic. Everything.
I was never really tickled much growing up. I was an only child, and while a few boys occasionally would goose my hips or give my side a poke (once puberty kicked in with a vengeance) it never went further than that. Sometimes it was a precursor for the guy wanting sex. Nothing wrong with that, mind you. I love and still do love sex, but tickling was just something I never really knew I was missing in my life. It was during my time in university where I experienced real tickling for the first time. I mean REAL TICKLING TORTURE. Tickling where you are howling for mercy, tears are running down your face, you’re turning as red as an apple, and your throat and lungs are burning. The type of tickling where your ready to confess your darkest sins to make it stop, and you’re not sure if your bladder is going to hold out. Real tickle torture.
Fuck, just writing this down is making me wet. The things I do for you people.
So, anyway, I joined a sorority in university, and yup, you guessed it. Tickling was part of the hazing process. It wasn’t the only thing that was done, but it’s the one you all want to hear about, I’m sure. A dozen pledges and I were stripped to our underwear and taken to the basement of the sorority house. There were actually a few pairs of what I would later learn were wooden stocks in the basement, but that wasn’t for us. No, we had a series of cots that had been set out which we were all strapped to.
Once we were all secure, in came a group of boys from our brother fraternity. It was their job, we soon learned, to tickle us, while our sorority sisters watched. I gulped, watching as two handsome young men in black robes kneeled down and began to tickle me. One used his fingers to rake my soles, while the other focused on tickling my ribs. I had never laughed so hard in my life, and it wasn’t long before I was crying out for them to stop. No dice, though. They had a job to do, and while I was given short little breaks to get a little bit of my breath back, despite my pleas, I was soon being tickled again. It was a good thing I had just bought a new, well-fitting bra that day. With all the thrashing I was doing it was a miracle my tits didn’t bust out. They were certainly jiggling like mounds of jelly with each explosive new burst of laughter. I know the guys were enjoying the show, because I could see the way their robes tented a bit around the waist. Mm…so fucking hot.
Little side note, I love seeing bulges in guys pants. Doesn’t matter if it’s a big cock or a small cock. Just knowing and seeing that object of masculine sexuality straining to break free and get relief makes me excited every time.
Of course, I wasn’t the only one going being tickled out of my mind. I could hear the laughter and screams of the girls around me. I know was probably just my frenzied imagination, but I swear each girl must have been horrible ticklish, with me being the most ticklish of the lot. Except for maybe the girl at the very end on the left. She did actually pee herself.
It seemed to go on forever. By the time it stopped, my sides ached, and my lungs were burning. My face was streaked with tears, looked like a tomato, and beaded in sweat. I was shaking from the endorphine rush, my face hurt from laughing, and I swore I didn’t want to ever smile or laugh again for the rest of my life.
It…was…Awesome!
After that, I was hooked. I found a whole new world, and deep dived into tickling. As luck would happen, I got a roommate, named Maria. She was/is an incredibly hot and curvy Puerto Rican girl with tits as nice as mine, an even fuller ass, and lovely dark skin with long, straight, black hair. We became very “closeâ€, and she eventually grew to love tickling like I did, though she preferred to be the person dishing out the tickles. Maria is highly competitive (something she gets from having 3 other sisters) and if you want her to be on the receiving end of being tickled, it usually means besting her in some manner. Or challenging her. Or tricking her.
As you might imagine, once I was a full-blown sorority sister, I made sure I was involved in the tickle hazing aspects of the sorority. I also pushed (and was successful) in advocating the use of tickling during some of the somewhat-playful sorority/fraternity wars/competitions we had on campus. Maria and I weren’t the only two into tickling, but I’ll save some of those raunchy stories for later.
So, now we skip two years. The one I’m going to get to now is how I met my to-be husband, James.
James is 2 years younger than myself, so I was one of the girls who was involved in hazing him when he pledged for his fraternity. I’ll be honest, James was never really what you would call your stereotypical frat guy, but he is very smart, and he saw the advantages to joining a frat.
I actually showed up a little late for the hazing of the new frat members. One more reason to always remember to keep up on vehicle maintenance, boys and girls. After I got changed into my robe and went down into the basement, I was a little surprised as there was a bit of extra excitement in the air. It didn’t take me long to find out why. I quickly noticed that while each of the laughing boys had at least one girl tickling them to hysteria, one young man had four girls surrounding him (and his hysterical laughter reflected the extra attention). I couldn’t hold back my curiosity and decided to investigate.
It took less then ten seconds to see why the girls were so interested in this skinny young man. Like many of the other young men who got tickled by women in this basement, he had become very hard. The difference was that this guy had a huge cock. Like HUGE! Biggest I and most of the girls there had ever seen, so it was getting a lot of looks. He was wearing boxershorts, so it was at least directly hidden from view (though a few girls were trying to peek down the raised pantleg), but it was impossible not to get a good idea of the length and thickness from what you could see.
This large-dicked young man was, of course, James.
You could say it was lust at first sight. I’ve already mentioned I have a thing for bulging males, and his was the biggest bulge I had ever seen. It didn’t hurt that he was pretty ticklish and I had soon gotten my claws into him, helping drive him wild with laughter. In hindsight, it’s lucky we didn’t make the poor guy piss himself.
Now, just a disclaimer here. I probably would have fallen in love with James even if he just had a normal sized dick. One of the things I’ve learned with age is that penis size really isn’t that important. Yes, you can’t deny the whole “wow†factor when you see a big swinging dick for the first time, but that wears off in time, and you realize that your relationship isn’t with what’s between the man’s leg, but the man himself.
I have had relationships with two large dicked guys before I met James. One of the guys, to be honest, thought he was god’s gift to women because he had a big dick and was handsome. That relationship ended quickly. He wasn’t even that good in bed, to be honest. The second guy was a more decent guy, but things just didn’t work out.
At any rate though, I admit, it was James large cock that first got me curious about him, and when the hazing was done and over with, I decided to pursue him. I wasn’t the only one, mind you. Word spread like wildfire in our sorority about James more notable endowments, and I had some competition. To his credit, despite the curiosity and interest some of the girls showed in him, James wasn’t handing out the hot dickings like candy. He was actually more conservative back then.
So, let me fast forward again. Sorry guys, I’m trying to get to the story, but I do want you guys to have a bit of backstory too. I swear, it’s important.
We’re going to move our story along. For those wanting the math, that made me 28 years old, and my husband 26 years old.
My husband, smart man that he is, studied computer programming, as well as a bunch of other computer related topics that are way above my head. Myself, well, I’m not an airhead, but I admit, when it comes to computers, I’m pretty basic. That said, I was still able to learn my numbers pretty well, and became an accountant. It’s not the only thing I do, mind you, but it is the main way I make money.
The benefits of both these jobs is they can be done from home. Now, we didn’t work from home to start. We both managed to find some companies that we worked for. Life was pretty decent, to be honest. We both made good money, and lived very comfortably.
Then my husband lost his job. Well, lost his job makes it sound like he did something wrong, but he didn’t. It was just a case of corporate downsizing, and even though he was good at his job, he was the least senior worker in his department, so they had to let him go.
It was around this time that we got a call from Maria. Yes, I still kept in touch with her, and trust me, if you were me, you would too. Well, Maria had got into real-estate, and she told us about this little town she thought we would love. In fact, she actually lived there (though she did spend a lot of time traveling). It was a house at the end of this cul-de-sac. You know, one of those roads that don’t have an exit. Like a straight line, and at the end it just opens up into like a big circle? To be honest, I think it looks a lot like a dick (which I think is a selling point, to be honest). Anyhow, yeah, our house would be the one at the end.
Now, this wasn’t exactly sprung on us out of the blue. We had talked about moving over the last few years. City life had a lot of good things going for it, but both James and I had been born in more rural areas. We had been raised in a more…slower life. The grind and how loud the city life was, well, it just wasn’t for us. At least not this city, in this area.
The problem with leaving the city was that we, myself in particular, are pretty liberal, particular when it comes to the bedroom. I like going to strip joints, bdsm dungeons, and all that stuff. Finding a rural area where we could enjoy ourselves seemed pretty difficult. When I mentioned this to Maria, she just laughed out loud, and told us not to worry. There was a reason she had bought her house in that area and that we wouldn’t have to worry. She wouldn’t tell us more, which is typical of Maria. If she was somebody else I would have been more concerned, but I knew Maria knows me pretty well, so I trusted her judgement.
She also used the fact that during different times of the year, she’d likely live in walking distance of us, and all the “benefits†that would come with that. That was a big selling point, not going to lie. Not as much for James, as he and Maria have a…complicated relationship. Frenemies? Is that the right word for it? We’ll tackle that in another story, perhaps.
James took a little more convincing, being the more fiscally responsible one of the two of us. However, I pointed out that selling our apartment and buying the house would give us considerably less of a mortgage to pay, and that because of our jobs, he could do work from home and make a lot more money compared to the cost of living. It wasn’t an easy sell, but after a while, he warmed up to the idea.
Soon we were headed to the town of Edenvale. I know, I know. With a name like that, you’d think it was a retirement home, but Maria crossed her heart-shaped ass and swore to her inner goddess that we’d love it, so we took a gamble. I mean, you only live once, right? What was life without a few risks?
So, one long move later, and we had begun unpacking our things when there was a knock at the door. I opened it up to find a man and woman standing there, who promptly introduced themselves as our new neighbors.
The man was named Andre, and his wife was named Felicity. I would learn that they were both personal fitness instructors, but to be honest, It wasn’t that much of a shock. Both of them were very fit looking. Andre looked like he was a pro football player (he did play football in college), and his wife (standing 6 feet tall compared to Andre’s 6 foot 6 frame), while not as muscular, was still pretty damn fit looking (she played basketball in college).
They cordially invited us, if we had the time, to come over tonight for some steaks and beers and/or wine. They liked to get to know their neighbors. Hell, we were outgoing people, and to be honest, a barbequed steak and wine sounded great. Also, and I could have been wrong, but it totally looked like Felicity was checking out James. It probably didn’t help that James was wearing sweat pants, and you could make out the way his cock was hanging down his left pantleg. Mmm…
We quickly agreed and made sure to get some decent clothing out of our boxes after they left. A few hours later, we were knocking at the door. Felicity was quick to open the door, smiling a mile wide, and greeting each of us with a hug. James was a little surprised by such a warm greeting, as was I. Given our height differences, I ended up with a massive pair of (fake) breasts pressed into my face. Not that I was complaining. Hell, I’ll take face full of tits over a handshake any day of the week. I could tell that James was a little flustered though. I put a hand on his arm and gave him a wink to steady him. I do love that man, but sometimes he needs a little bit of steadying until he reaches his comfort zone. Fortunately, he can get there fast.
We were escorted out to the back of the house, where Andre and Felicity had a lovely deck set up, with a barbeque (currently being seen to by Andre, kiss the cook apron and all) patio tables and chairs, and a hot tub! Not to mention a cooler filled with ice and bottles of beer.
Steak with potatoes, onions, and mushrooms were served up, with an accompanying shrimp ring. Corona’s, Heinikin’s, Pabst, and red wine to wash it all down. Did I mention the shrimp ring? Ok, I can see above I wrote it, but I LOVE shrimp rings. Add that to steak and wine, I’m in heaven. I couldn’t help but notice that Felicity was drinking the red wine rather quickly and seemed to be getting a little tipsy.
Felicity wasn’t the only one drinking though, and after such a lovely meal and drinks, we were all in a pretty good mood. Andre then suggested that we all enjoy the hot tub. James pointed out that we didn’t have bathing suits with us.
“Well, we don’t need to wear any.†Felicity snickered before having another sip of wine. She wasn’t plastered, but she was obviously tipsy. A slight silence followed.
Don’t get my wrong. I would have had no problems skinny-dipping. If you got it, flaunt it, as I like to say, and my husband and I have extra meat in all the right places to show off. However, I do know my husband, and I could hear him clearing his throat, trying to fill the silence. He had always been the less sexually adventurous. I took the lead.
“Well, why don’t we go have a look and see if we can find something?†I suggested. This idea was met with enthusiastic comments from Andre and Felicity, with Andre making a comment about his wife drinking a little too much (with added side-hug and kiss on her cheek) and promises that she’d behave herself when we got back.
So, we went back to our place and got dressed in our bathing suits. James tends to be a bit shy about wearing bathing trunks, as they tend to show off his massive cock once they get wet and stick to him. I honestly don’t know why. I’m the complete opposite with my body. I gave him a few words of encouragement, and we were soon back at the neighbors.
Andre was wearing a white pair of bathing trunks (and even dry I could see the outline of an impressive cock, I do admit). Felicity must have been of the same view as myself about showing off ones body, because she was wearing an extremely tiny yellow two-piece, with small triangles covering her nipples, and a g-string bottom that exposed her succulent ass. I admit, I wasn’t wearing much more, dressed (barely) in a pink two-piece. While it had a little more on top, it was as limited as Felicity when it came to my bottom. From behind, the two of us might as well have been naked! Lots of sights for the boys to soak up.
The hot tub was wonderful! I had to say, if what we had seen so far was any indicator, these were going to be great neighbors. Felicity slipped in close to James, moving up beside him, engaging him in small talk. She wasn’t pressing herself against him, but she was close enough that it wouldn’t take much for the side of her dark-skinned tit to be pressed against his arm. I must admit, they were pretty damn big. Maybe an F cup? Granted, she was a tall woman, so they still looked awesome on her without being completely out of proportion with her body. To be honest I was getting a little jealous of the attention she was paying to James. Not “get away from my husband†jealous. More like a “hey, can I have some too?†jealous.
At this point, I will be adlibbing the conversations. It has been more then a few years, so I can’t remember word for word, but I remember the general jist of everything said, and will be writing it as such. Don’t like it, too bad.
“So, what made you decide to move to our sleepy little town?†Andre asked. His wife’s attention might have been focused on my husband, but Andre kept his attention on me. He was a handsome man, and built like a bull, so I wasn’t going to complain about that. He sat opposite of myself, spread out (he was a massive man and had a lot to spread) and smiling in a friendly manner.
“On old friend talked us into it.†I said with a smile. I heard Felicity suddenly give several good laughs in response to something James said, doubling over a bit and pushing her knockers into James. The thought of my husband sucking on those big funbags of hers played over in my mind, and I couldn’t help but grin.
“That wouldn’t be Maria, would it?†Andre asked, quickly redirecting my attention.
“Yes! Do you know her?†I asked.
“Yeah, I-“
“Eheeh hey!†My husband’s laughter suddenly broke out, and I felt him jump against me.
“Ooops! Sorry!†Felicity was grinning ear to ear, and you could just tell she wasn’t sorry in the least. Then, she said the magic words. “Are you ticklish, James?â€
A tingle ran down my spine, all the way to my snatch. Whenever I hear the word “tickleâ€, I get excited. And I was getting even more excited than normal, with the combination of alcohol, exposed skin, and flirty nature of Felicity.
“He’s VERY ticklish.†I leaned over James towards Felicity, like I was whispering to her, except I was being very loud. And grinning like an idiot. Felicity had grinned right back at me. Felicity got the hint, because a second later, both of us had sandwiched James, and began tickling away.
“Aahhaaha hey hey stop!†James was struggling, as you can imagine. Of course, he was also having four large tits rubbing all over his body as he tried to protect himself while Felicity and I pressed ourselves against him to tickle him silly. I reached down a few times and found that lovely cock of his was as hard as a rock. The fact that he would likely punish me for this later, and then fuck me with that massive dick of his only made me want to tickle him more.
“Oooh! You weren’t kidding!†Felicity grinned as she continued to rub her monstrous mammaries all over the side of my husband while her hands continued to dart all over along his sides and stomach. “Kitchy kitchy koo! Kitchy kitchy koo!†She sung as her hands darted about with surprising speed, finding spots to get. Ribs, sides, hips, stomach, and armpits when they were exposed.
“Ok ok Ahahahahaha enough! Ahahaha stop!†My usually dominant husband wriggled and laughed. His laughter was getting more and more frantic, and I knew he was going to make a run for it soon. When it comes to being tickled, my husband is a runner. I’m a curler.
If it had been just me tickling, he would have tickled me back until I was curled up on the ground. If we were at home, he would have tickled me to the ground, probably continued to tickle me until I was a sobbing mess, then ordered me to the bedroom to fuck my brains out (which I would have loved). However, having Felicity help me made any counterattack he tried (and he did try to make a few on me, and to a limited degree, Felicity) was short lived as he would be pulling his arms back to try and cover up a spot he had just exposed. I have to say, Felicity was a natural at this! We were working in perfect tandem to wreck my poor hubby. If she went left, I would go for the right. She would work a spot until he tried to cover it up, and once he did, my fingers would find the newly exposed spot to keep massaging the laughter out of him.
“Ohohohohok ok Enough!†James laughed, and finally pulled himself free of our embrace. We laughed as he got up and ran to the other side of the tub, giving us a ladies a quick but detailed look at his cock straining down his pantleg. He sat down quickly, once it seemed like he wasn’t going to be chased.
“Oh my!†Felicity laughed, eyes wide as she ogled my husbands dick through his shorts. She wasn’t the only one doing any ogling though, as when James had made his break for it, he had inadvertently pulled Felicity’s top up, and now her huge mommy-milkers were out for the world to see. It took her a second to realize her situation. “Oops! Sorry, let me put the girls away.â€
Felicity seemed to read my mind, as I was thinking “Hey, take your time. No rush,†because she didn’t, putting her magnificent tits away one at a time. She was making sure we got a decent look before putting them away. I must admit, even though they were fake, they were works of art. The nipples, a slightly darker brown than her milk-chocolate skin, were perfectly round, not to mention erect. Her breasts must have been fairly large before, as she didn’t have overly-large nipples that sometimes resulted from implants. Mmm…God, she has great tits. “Sorry.†She said, with a laugh. “You know how it goes. Sometimes they have a mind of their own.â€
“Oh yeah.†I said, which is true. My own tits have spilled out more than once when I didn’t plan them to. I took a second to inspect my own, just to make sure James’s thrashing hadn’t pulled my suit aside, but they seemed to be fairly in place. I did, however, take a second to move my suit around to correct its position, making sure to press and jiggle my shiny wet breasts for everybody to see, because I could feel Felicity’s and Andre’s eyes (and my husbands of course) on me as I did. Might as well give them a little show while doing it.
Once that was done, I sat back, smiling at the men. Felicity, now that James was on the other side of the hot tub and sitting beside her husband, moved over sit beside me. I moved closer, the sides of our breasts touching. Ooh, nice!
“What about you, Sam? Are you ticklish?†Andre asked, a slight grin on his face.
Oh fuck yes, am I ticklish! I’m a tickling mans wet dream. You tickle me, and I’ll be cumming back for more, mister. You can tickle any spot you want. Multiple choice, no wrong answers. Let me have it. Just dominate me, tickle me to insanity, and then tickle me some more!
“Nope. Not ticklish in the least.†Smile a mile wide. A cocky smile, in fact. I’d done this dance a million times, and I’d loved it every time. This is the denial technique, where you say you’re not ticklish, but your body language suggests that you are indeed ticklish, and you’re almost daring the other person to tickle you. Come on big boy, use those hands and make a liar out of me.
“Oh really?†He smirked, and I could tell he was facing the eternal debate that all people face when they come to this crossroads in life. Do I put my hands on this person and tickle them, or do I just let it go?
It can be a difficult choice, especially in this day and age. Putting your hands on somebody against their will is a big no-no, even if it’s something like tickling as opposed to say outright groping. This has in the past scared away more then a few men who looked like they wanted to give me a tickling. The fact my husband has sometimes been present also caused some men to back down. We’ve decided that if this situation arises, my husband will just add in the whole, “Oh yeah, she’s super ticklish. Go nuts.†On occasion he’s added that “I love it†to that line, just to try and make sure the guy knows to go for it, but even still, we have had some get away. Or would that be I got away? Point is, no tickles for momma, and that made me a sad panda.
“Sure, she’s not ticklish.†My husband played the part well, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner.
“Yup. Not. One. Bit.†I smiled, moving closer, hands behind my back. Come on, I dare you. I double-dog dare you.
“Maybe I should find out.†He reached out for me. Both arms.
Yay!
Of course, I tried to move away, even squealing a bit. Eek! Not the tickles! Anything but the tickles! But, surprise, surprise, he caught me. I admit though I wasn’t expecting him to use one hand to pin my wrists together behind my back, while his other hand pulled me in, so I was sitting sideways in his lap, legs over his tree-trunk thigh. And speaking of wood, HELLO! It seemed Andre was a very big man in ways other than just muscle.
I didn’t have much time to dwell on the fact that my tight, curvy ass was enjoying the best seat in the house before I felt one of Andre’s massive hands pressed into my stomach. Despite having hands a basketball player would have loved, the man had a surprisingly deft touch. All five of his fingers were perfectly wiggling into my stomach, pressing with just enough pressure to make me instantly howl with laughter. Oh, this guy was good.
In hindsight, I realized just how good he was. The way he was holding me was perfect. He had control of both my arms, while at the same time, using his massive arm to support me at a 45-degree angle. I couldn’t pull away, and I could only move back so much because of his arm. His giant hand was pressing into and tickling my stomach, making sure I couldn’t lift myself up, with the limited leverage I had of my thighs on his thigh, my legs were only able to kick about in the water uselessly. Meanwhile, my backside was shaking and rubbing all over his big black cock through his swim shorts while I wriggled around like mad from the tickling. I mean, it was an impressive technique, and had I been a spectator instead of the “victimâ€, I would have greatly appreciated both the simplicity and effectiveness of the technique used.
As things were though, I was too busy laughing.
“Eheehheehahahahah oh oh oh hohohohohoahaha!†I shook with laughter, struggling to get away from the much larger, and much more powerful man. His hand was so large, his finger spread allowed him to cover a range of spots on my stomach at the same time. On top of this, he would twist his wrist ever several seconds, so his fingers deviated a bit, keeping the tickling spots moving.
“I thought you said you weren’t ticklish.†Andre said, stopping after a good thirty seconds of constant tickling.
“Aehehe th-ehehe that’s right.†I giggled like a schoolgirl as I breathed. “I’m hehehe not Tickl-eeeeehaha!†My claim fell apart as his fingers began to work into my stomach again.
Another thirty seconds, maybe a minute went by and Andre stopped again, grinning down at me. “I’m sorry, what was that?†Andre asked, innocently enough.
“I-I said…woo,†I gulped down some air. I was nowhere near breathless, but when it comes to tickling, I’ve learned it’s best to get that air into you when you can. “I said, I wasn’t t-bwhahahahahaha!†I threw my head back as Andre started up again. Oh, I knew this game. I loved this game. I knew what was going to happen, and I would play along.
“What did you say?†Andre stopped again.
“I’m…I’m not tic-ahahahahahahahahaha!†I jiggled my chest as I struggled like mad, and Andre began tickling my stomach again. Yup, he knew this game, and he was good at it. He would stop, asking me to repeat myself, and when I said I wasn’t ticklish (or tried to), he would go back to tickling me. It wasn’t just my stomach though. The man began to mix it up a bit, using his fingers to play over my ribs. He couldn’t get my armpits very well, because my hands were pulled down, but the rest of my torso was open. He worked my ribs, my flanks, my stomach, my belly button (he had to use his pink, his hands are so big), and my hips. I think he would have gone for my tits (which are indeed VERY ticklish) but didn’t because I was married. Out of the corner of my teary eye, I could see that Felicity had once again saddled up beside my husband. She seemed to be actively pushing those gorgeous fake tits of hers against his side as they spoke. My husband hadn’t protested. Who would?
“OK OK, I’M TICKLISH!†I shouted out at the top of my impressive lungs. It wasn’t so much that I wanted the game to stop. I just needed a break. Ah yes, the sad aspect of having a tickling fetish. As much as you love being tickled, you eventually hit your limit. Oh, you can drag it out. I’ve always been a physically active woman, so I’m fit. I can take a tickln’ and keep on tickn’, as they say. Even still, I have to cry uncle sooner or later.
“Are you now?†The question was tossed out like it was some sort of surprise.
“Well…†I breathed in heavy, suspecting the tickling wasn’t going to be over yet. Or at least it wasn’t going to be over if I had anything to say about it. I took my time answering though. Best to recover as much as possible when you had the chance. I’m sure Andre was enjoying the way my chest was rising and falling with each deep breath. “I…might be a little ticklish…in a few places…†I admitted with an impish grin on my face. I hadn’t told him to stop tickling me, though. He noticed.
“Oh?†He arched an eyebrow. “And where would that be?†His hand was still resting on my stomach, just the tips, and I could feel it quivering in anticipation.
“Sorry. Not telling.†And I stuck my tongue out at him. I’m a great brat when it comes to tickles. Let the game continue.
“Well-“
“WAhaahahahahha!â€
Both of us turned to see that my husband and Felicity had started horsing around as well. Felicity was currently sitting to James’ side. She was holding her hands held behind her head. She was letting him explore her sides with his fingers, while she was doing her best to keep herself exposed. This position caused her to thrust her chest out, which was a great look for her.
I could see more then a few occasions when she would twist to the left or right and bounce her breasts off his arms. Not that James’ minded. I certainly wasn’t complaining about the sight either, as Felicity was swinging those big old melons of hers around only a foot or so away from James’ face as he tried to tickle her armpits and sides. She seemed pretty ticklish, and I admit, I was getting a little jealous again about not getting to play with this buxom, milk-chocolate skinned goddess.
“Eeep!†A little tickle on my belly reminded me I had my own dark-skinned god to contend with.
“Maybe I should try and see if I can find those tickle spots?†It might have been phrased as a question, but I knew it was more of a statement if intent.
“You can try, but I doubt you’ll find many.†Knowing he’ll likely find everyone, or close to it. Yeah, I could tell, Andre was a tickler. His touch was too good, and he was really enjoying tickling me. Most guys would have tried to move unto something more…sexual by this point. Maybe some breast groping or stroking of the inner thigh. Or they would have stopped entirely. Andre seemed content, at least for the moment, to continue to just tickle the ever-loving hell out of me.
Yes, things were starting to fall int-
“Eeeheehehehehhahah!†My train of thought jumped the rails as Andre made good on his word and began to explore my ribs on my left side with that shovel had called a hand.
“Are you ticklish here?†He asked, his tone completely innocent and a considerable contrast to the playful smirk on his face. I held out for what felt like several minutes, but his fingers didn’t stop lightly tickling my side until I admitted that yes, indeed, I was ticklish on my ribs.
I was given a few seconds to recover, before his hand moved to another place, just bellow my armpit and beside (but not the side of) my breast. Once again, I fell into a fit of laughter, wriggling around and feeling that huge cock underneath my ass. Fuck, I was horny!
“Are you ticklish here?â€
“Yeeheheheehes!†I admitted after several stubborn more minutes of tickling. Again, I was rewarded with a break in the tickling, but this one was shorter than the last, and Andre found another spot to test. Oh! I knew this game as well!
For the next god only knows how long, Andre would test a new spot, tickling it while asking the same question repeatedly, until I finally answered yes. He would then move unto a next target, the small breaks between tickles getting short and shorter until it was just a constant assault of tickling fingers and my steady stream of laughter and exclamations of “yes!â€. Damn, this man was good!
Finally, Andre stopped, and I was just a rag doll in his massive arms. I was gasping for breath, my large breasts rising and falling rapidly as I tried to get the laughter out of my system and the air back in. By that point I’m pretty sure he had goosed, scrabbled, or stroked a good 70% of my body. He was thorough, that was for sure.
I blinked the tears out of my eyes. I could still hear Felicity laughing up a storm. Once I could see, I could see that she was now straddling James, sitting on his lap, clasping the sides of the pools with a death grip, as he continued to tickle her upper body. Her ass had been barely covered by the water, putting it on display as it jiggled and shimmied from laughter. I’m sure that wasn’t the only thing shaking around, as from the angle I bet James was getting a face full of those gnarly knockers as Felicity squealed and laughed.
“You know…I think I forgot some of those spots your ticklish. I might need to start over again.†Andre gave me a devilish grin that made my toes curl. Oh fuck.
“What do you think James?†Andre called out to my husband.
It took a second for James to stop tickling Felicity. She’d leaned to the side, twisting her upper body, huffing, a deep blush on her face as she’d looked over at us grinning. James had the side of his face plastered with Felicities right tit. Yeah, he was a happy camper.
I gave a whimper as James looked at me with his own devilish grin. “I think for the sake of thoroughness, you should definitely check her spots again.†He’d looked at me with those eyes he sometimes gives me that make me melt. “It’s the only way to be sure, after all.â€
“I’ll be sure to do that.†Andre turned his attention back to me. “Oh, and be sure to be thorough with Felicity too.â€
“Sounds good.†James said, grinning up at Felicity, who had been definitely giving him the “fuck me†eyes. Those eyes were promptly shut as she began laughing once again, James hands finding her shapely hips to work over.
“Well, I suppose I should get to it then.†Andre turned his eyes back to me.
“Um…could we not and say we did?†I pleaded, giving him as big a pair of puppy eyes as I could.
“Sorry. I like to be thorough.†Andre grinned.
“Ahahaha he is! He ahahahahaha really is!†Felicity howled in the background before I quickly joined her.
True to his word, Andre was very thorough. The only places he didn’t tickle were my tits, pussy, and ass, though he came pretty damn close. I know Felicity got a pretty good tickling, but I was in much worse shape. When it was done, and us ladies had recovered enough to stand, we all got out of the hot tub. I had to lean against James to help stay on my feet. Felicity seemed worn, but not as much as I. I did notice that she had her eyes glued to my husband’s erection the entire time we said our goodbyes. Not that I blame her. I admit, now that her husband was out of the water, I was checking out Andre’s bulging shorts as well. I mean, I had been sitting on it for what felt like forever, so I felt perfectly fine staring a bit as well, and it was VERY impressive.
Andre and Felicity both gave us a hug goodnight (given that I and Felicity, had been sitting on each others husband’s boners, hugs didn’t seem inappropriate) while the husbands shook hands. I wasn’t going to complain about Felicity’s tits, or Andre’s huge erection pressed against me. Oh, I LIKED our new neighbors, that was for sure!
When we got back to the house, I flopped down on the bed. I was exhausted from all the tickling. That wasn’t the only thing I was. My husband was of the same mindset, as his shorts promptly dropped. His massive cock swung out, hard and ready to be put to work. Sure, I was tired, but I was even more horny.
So, that ends my story about James' and my own first experience with our neighbors. It was a hell of a first time together, but it was certainly not the last time. Not by a long shot. I hope you enjoyed reading about it, and if you want more, please comment. Until Later, ta-ta!
