laughtermech
TMF Expert
- Joined
- Apr 28, 2018
- Messages
- 572
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- 28
The Motel Tickling - A Voyeuristic Tickle Fantasy (MM/F)
Full story available on Amazon at: https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/sitb/B084FJD9MT
All sales will be donated to the American Cancer Society in @ticklish_lisa_lee’s friend’s honor who passed away due to brain cancer recently.
Please visit @ticklish_lisa_lee’s Instagram feed for more information.
Thanks in advance for your support, and I hope you enjoy the story
TLM (https://thelaughtermechanic.wordpress.com)
Story excerpt is below:
I could hear her through the thin motel wall that separated us.
I’d recognize that gorgeous, sexy laugh anywhere.
Hers was the kind of laugh that made men turn their heads toward it in restaurants when I would tell her a bad Dad joke.
Hers was the kind that made women around her at cocktail parties jealous that they couldn’t make the same opposite-sex-arresting-vocalizations. Yes, Laura, my spouse of 10 years, could, with just the slightest lilt in her beautiful voice, make people do her bidding.
I was Patient Zero.
God, this was going to be so much harder, and so much more erotically charged than I thought it would be. When I’d scribbled my signature on that piece of utility bill insert paper she’d presented me with to agree to sign, I didn’t realize quite what I was getting myself into.
And yet, here I sit on the edge of a cheap, hopefully not bed bug ridden motel mattress, spiraling into some rather uncharted titillating territory. Yes, Laura and I agreed that this was how she wanted her ultimate fantasy to go. She didn’t want me backing out or reneging as I did last week. Boy, she was pissed when I did THAT.
No, this 8.5″ by 11″ piece of bleached carbon that I’ve since crumpled in the palm of my hand is her permit and insurance document all wrapped up into one. You see…my wife has somewhat, no…strike that….she simply has, there really is no somewhat to how Laura behaves these days..she has...a kink. And not the kind of kink you find in a chain, or in a person’s neck, or even rummaging through old record stores (quaint n’est pas?!) looking for British Punk Rock Bands...no, this kink is slightly different. This kink involves something I thought was rather childish at first, but have come to understand it much differently in my reawakened adult self.
I’m talking about a tickling kink.
You know, that thing you had done to you as a kid by your parents, aunts, uncles, siblings, cousins? Maybe you even liked it.
Maybe you assuredly hated it.
I was most squarely in the latter camp.
Not my wife though. No, even in her mid 30s, and not looking a day over 22 years old, my wife LOVES, and I mean L O V E S with a capital ‘L...
It’s the kind of capital ‘L’ that would probably even give the word superhero, Letterman, of The Electric Company Children’s Television fame (Google it) some decent scaling trouble. My wife loves tickling.
Pure. Unadulterated. Tickling.
More specifically, she loves to BE tickled.
To be a ticklee. Or just Lee for short.
I think if my wife didn’t have our two boys to raise, a myriad of extended family obligations, and her own work commitments at the school district, her calendar might just be booked solid with ‘tickle play-dates’ as she likes to call them. I think this may be how she spends her retirement days.
If we make it to 60 years old together, I’m guessing she’ll probably be one of the healthiest people alive having taken life’s best medicine everyday...laughter.
Now I never knew this about Laura when we first met and married nearly 10 years ago.
No, she kept it a total secret.
‘Tight Lid Laura’ I used to call her.
I only found out about a month ago when I pulled into our driveway after a long Monday at work.
The bluetooth from her phone switched to my car radio. I heard my wife’s voice answering questions that I only later found out were ‘DM’d’ (Direct Messaged) to her Instagram account, and read aloud for a live streaming session on her ‘feed’.
Full story available on Amazon at: https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/sitb/B084FJD9MT
All sales will be donated to the American Cancer Society in @ticklish_lisa_lee’s friend’s honor who passed away due to brain cancer recently.
Please visit @ticklish_lisa_lee’s Instagram feed for more information.
Thanks in advance for your support, and I hope you enjoy the story
TLM (https://thelaughtermechanic.wordpress.com)
Story excerpt is below:
I could hear her through the thin motel wall that separated us.
I’d recognize that gorgeous, sexy laugh anywhere.
Hers was the kind of laugh that made men turn their heads toward it in restaurants when I would tell her a bad Dad joke.
Hers was the kind that made women around her at cocktail parties jealous that they couldn’t make the same opposite-sex-arresting-vocalizations. Yes, Laura, my spouse of 10 years, could, with just the slightest lilt in her beautiful voice, make people do her bidding.
I was Patient Zero.
God, this was going to be so much harder, and so much more erotically charged than I thought it would be. When I’d scribbled my signature on that piece of utility bill insert paper she’d presented me with to agree to sign, I didn’t realize quite what I was getting myself into.
And yet, here I sit on the edge of a cheap, hopefully not bed bug ridden motel mattress, spiraling into some rather uncharted titillating territory. Yes, Laura and I agreed that this was how she wanted her ultimate fantasy to go. She didn’t want me backing out or reneging as I did last week. Boy, she was pissed when I did THAT.
No, this 8.5″ by 11″ piece of bleached carbon that I’ve since crumpled in the palm of my hand is her permit and insurance document all wrapped up into one. You see…my wife has somewhat, no…strike that….she simply has, there really is no somewhat to how Laura behaves these days..she has...a kink. And not the kind of kink you find in a chain, or in a person’s neck, or even rummaging through old record stores (quaint n’est pas?!) looking for British Punk Rock Bands...no, this kink is slightly different. This kink involves something I thought was rather childish at first, but have come to understand it much differently in my reawakened adult self.
I’m talking about a tickling kink.
You know, that thing you had done to you as a kid by your parents, aunts, uncles, siblings, cousins? Maybe you even liked it.
Maybe you assuredly hated it.
I was most squarely in the latter camp.
Not my wife though. No, even in her mid 30s, and not looking a day over 22 years old, my wife LOVES, and I mean L O V E S with a capital ‘L...
It’s the kind of capital ‘L’ that would probably even give the word superhero, Letterman, of The Electric Company Children’s Television fame (Google it) some decent scaling trouble. My wife loves tickling.
Pure. Unadulterated. Tickling.
More specifically, she loves to BE tickled.
To be a ticklee. Or just Lee for short.
I think if my wife didn’t have our two boys to raise, a myriad of extended family obligations, and her own work commitments at the school district, her calendar might just be booked solid with ‘tickle play-dates’ as she likes to call them. I think this may be how she spends her retirement days.
If we make it to 60 years old together, I’m guessing she’ll probably be one of the healthiest people alive having taken life’s best medicine everyday...laughter.
Now I never knew this about Laura when we first met and married nearly 10 years ago.
No, she kept it a total secret.
‘Tight Lid Laura’ I used to call her.
I only found out about a month ago when I pulled into our driveway after a long Monday at work.
The bluetooth from her phone switched to my car radio. I heard my wife’s voice answering questions that I only later found out were ‘DM’d’ (Direct Messaged) to her Instagram account, and read aloud for a live streaming session on her ‘feed’.
