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New story

shy ticklee1

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Apr 5, 2012
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Alright...I am new to this, and some on here may find my story too tame, but please give me honest feedback on what I have so far. Let me know if I should continue...




He sat very close to me again that night, but I was more aware than ever since everyone else had left. It wasn't the first time that he had been close to me...weeks ago he sat down next to me and rested his arm against mine...and didn't move it away. That simple action had impressed me...I wouldn't have thought a professor would risk touching a student, although the action was simple enough. I just figured he would move his arm away once he realized, but he didn't. Nor did he the second time it happened. This time I was aware that I was leaning towards him a bit, and, slightly embarrassed, I sat up more straight, but I couldn't move my arm away from the touch of his. First of all, I had come to crave even that innocent touch...plus, I didn't want to alarm him into never touching me again if he mistakenly thought it bothered me. The third week he had lightly touched my shoulder twice, casually, as if he simply wanted to gain my attention. I liked the feel of his fingers on my shoulder...it was the perfect sense of not being too heavy, while being firm enough to not just be an accident. And all this time the fantasies had begun to form in my head...but I never guessed that they would ever be played out in reality.
This time he leaned in close, as always, but his one arm was leaning against the back of my chair, so that his arm barely brushed my side. This drove to near insanity, feeling it brush my very sensitive sides one moment, only for the sensation to stop, and then return again. I may have jumped the tiniest bit the one time, but I don't know even now if he noticed. He said something that was a rather obvious comment, and without even thinking I said something a bit impertinent back. I hoped he wouldn't take it as disrespect...I genuinely liked the guy, and would not want him to think I didn't respect him. He seemed a gentle soul, although there was something about him that I just couldn't put my finger on that caught my interest...or maybe it was just his gentle touch, and the fact that he was willing to touch me at all.
At my comment, he chuckled, and I caught a glint in his eye...mischief? Except I don't think he expected my reaction to what came next. "Now that class is almost over, are you sassing me?" he teased, and at the same time he lightly poked my side. Except my sides are so ticklish that I jumped at his touch, and then my arm shot back in defense, essentially trapping his fingers against my side (and that never ends well when you're ticklish!) He chuckled again, and had a look of pleased surprise on his face. Mischievously he informed me that he would need his hand back, and then proceeded to fake having a hard time extracting it, wiggling his fingers against my sides while he did so. Well, of course that tickled even more (and he knew it would from the look in his eyes), and sure enough my reflexes caused my arm to clamp down even harder. This of course gave him an excuse to keep "having a hard time" getting his hand free, but now he wasn't pretending so much. His hand squeezed my side experimentally, and I squealed and laughed even harder. At this positive response, he dropped all pretense; he reached around my back with his other arm and, pulling me closer to him, began tickling both my sides. "You should never sass your professor," he purred in my ear, evern his breath tickling now. I struggled ineffectually...the guy knew my weakness and was not relenting. And I couldn't help it...I was getting turned on...more and more by the minute.
Now, pulling me even closer, he wrapped one arm around my waist, pinning my arms to my sides. "I wonder," he said, and lifting up the bottom edge of my blouse, he began lightly stroking my side and a bit of my belly with his long skilled fingers. This produced more peals of laughter on my part, and, pleased with my reaction, he continued this for some time, slowly exposing more of my bare skin to his tickling fingers. Finally, he cinched up on his one arm, forcing my arms higher, and was tickling the whole lower part of my abdomen. He had discovered my ultra ticklish ribs, and dug into them happily, driving me even more insane. His fingers occasionally explored higher, even up to my underarms at times (although they're not usually that ticklish). His touch was so skilled that he had me howling even at that, and when his fingers brushed the sides of my breasts, I nearly lost it. After a few minutes, he had me laughing so hard that I suddenly fell out of the chair.

Well, he immediately pounced and had me pinned to the floor. He pinned my hands above my head, and began tickling me even harder than before, now squeezing at my hips as soon as he saw how much that tickled me. Than he gently ran one finger under and along the waistband of my jeans and panties, and I started squirming and giggling uncontrollably. Seeing how ticklish I was there, he now changed positions. He kneeled on my wrists while straddling my upper belly...now I couldn't move and he had both hands completely free. I struggled, although helplessly, because I knew what was coming. Oh, he toyed with me a moment, just tickling my sides and belly, as if he hadn't just discovered one of my most ticklish spots. But slowly his fingers made their way back down to my pantyline, while I bucked and squirmed with no success. Then, ever so lightly, he began to run his finger back and forth along my waist again, and I went crazy. He laughed at the results, and continued that slow, tortous travel back and forth, letting his fingers traverse my waist around to my back as far as he could reach, before starting the ticklish journey back. I don't know how long he kept this up, although he would occasionally "give me a break" by playfully poking me in the ribs and sides...but always back to my waist would he return. Finally, he did give me a bit of a break...and he spent the whole fifteen minutes or so massaging my neck and shoulders...which felt so good it was almost worth the tickling...
I knew my break was over when he leaned in and whispered in my ear, "So, what other surprises to you have for me?" He gently lowered me back to the floor, then began squeezing and tickling my upper thighs. I hadn't worn jeans that day, but lighter dress pants for work, and he might as well have been tickling bare skin for all that it felt like that. From time to time he would return to my waist and torture me, and after a while he did unbutton my slacks and venture down a bit further, which tickled just as much if not more than my waistline. So of course he paid attention to my lower stomach for some time, while fresh peals of laughter rang from me unheeded. Then he addressed my knees, and at this I began to wonder if he tickled professionally on the side, so skilled was he at bringing out my howls of laughter. When he arrived at my feet I didn't know what to expect. My feet had never been that ticklish before, but this guy was so good I feared the worse. First he spent some time running his fingers up my pants legs a good ways, tickling my calves and behind my knees. (I really wish I had tighter cut pants leg at that point...he had way too much access!) Finally he sat and looked pensively at my feet for a moment...he slowly began to undo my shoelaces, and ease the tongue of the shoe out. Once there was more slack, he slid a finger or two into my shoe and tickled my instep, and waves of ticklishness ran through my body. He kept this up for a little bit before easing my shoes off, and then began to run his fingers over my still clad feet. The sensation was more intense than I had expected...who's ticklish with socks on anyway? (Apparently me!) Now I began to dread what this guy was going to be able to do with my bare soles...I was already a helpless, laughing idiot....
He didn't remove my socks for a while; instead he returned to tickling my calves and knees. I think he sensed my dread of what was coming, and wanted to prolong the anticipation for a bit. His light stroking touches drove me insane. He would alternate these light tickles with more intense ones, so that I never knew what to expect. The unexpected variations made everything tickle worse, and kept me off my guard. I couldn't begin to defend myself mentally when I didn't know what to expect from one minute to the next.
 
Hmmm...well, I think I will eventually. Why did that thought not occur to me before now? (I still have to have him tickle my feet, though)

Thanks for the thought (and the feedback)...it will be along at some point... 🙂
 
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