This story happened during my first year at university, it's rather short but is one of the few real-life tickle encounters that I've experienced. For what it's worth I have a love-hate relationship with tickling. I'm really ticklish and can't stand it while I'm being tickled but when it's all over I feel good in a way I can't really describe.
I'm sitting at a computer in our campus library reading some papers for a philosophy course. There are about 5 or 6 computers lined up on a couple of flat tables, the only other people there are a guy with headphones on at the other corner and a woman sitting at the computer next to me, let's call her Allison. She's around 5'6" tall with long red hair and brown eyes. We had known each other in high school but weren't close friends or anything, just two people from the same high school who happened to end up at the same college.
Apparently there was something funny in the paper I was reading, because I started to laugh at one point. Allison looks away from her computer and asks "What's so funny?" I try to explain it but it apparently wasn't funny to her, she just turned her head and resumed whatever she was doing. A few minutes later I encounter something else funny and laugh out loud again.
"What is it THIS time?" she asks without bothering to look away from her computer screen. I start to explain, but before I can finish explaining she says "I don't get it. I'm trying to concentrate here, stop laughing at stuff that isn't funny." I go back to my reading, finish it up without further ado, but then decide to spend some time reading newsgroups and stumble across some political joke and chuckle a little bit.
Allison turns around in her seat so she's looking straight at me, and tells me "You're laughing again. I'll give you something to laugh about!" At that point, without warning she grabs both of my sides with her hands and starts squeezing hard with her fingers spread out, digging in deeply. Rats. She doesn't even know me that well, has never put her hands on me before, but she's found what is probably the second most ticklish spot on my entire body and I burst out laughing like a little girl. I reflexively snap my arms down to my sides, but that doesn't help any since her hands are already there. I try to move my arms to push them out of the way but she's better at tickling than I am at fighting back, and every time I manage to protect one sensitive spot she just finds a new one. She didn't have long nails or anything but I still think she could give Priscilla James a run for her money.
"Wow, you're so ticklish! Do you like that? You're taller than me but you laugh like a little girl!" she says as she continues her evil deep tissue massage on my sides and stomach. She's only been tickling me for 30 seconds but to me it feels like an hour as I just keep laughing and squirming and trying to not fall out of the chair. After a few more ineffective attempts to fight her off, I end up on the floor next to the chair, trapped between the chair, the table, and those dreaded instruments of torture that are her two soft little feminine hands.
She keeps on tickling me, moving from my sides to my neck, causing me to start thrashing my head and making incoherent gurgling noises. Finally, after what was probably only a minute or two of tickling despite feeling like an eternity to me she stops. I'm too worn out to get back into my chair right away, so I just lay there catching my breath and regaining the composure to move. All she says to me is "Unless you'd like some more of that I suggest you be quiet and let me study." She then turns back around and goes back to her work. I print off the rest of my readings and leave.
And that's about it. I wish I could say that I got some revenge on her, but I was too afraid of learning the hard way that she wasn't ticklish and earning myself another round of torture. I wish I could say that we went on to become good friends or boyfriend/girlfriend and explored our shared interest in tickling but that didn't happen. We didn't interact much after freshman year of college as we were in different programs, but years later I still remember her tickling the hell out of me for a few minutes and how I hated it so much while it was going on, but when I thought about it later I felt excited by it and wished it would happen again. I don't know if she had a tickle fetish or if it was just a playful thing for her but I think she made me discover mine. Thanks to her I often find myself fantasizing about women tickling me, holding me down and going after my worst spots until I'm totally exhausted.
I'm sitting at a computer in our campus library reading some papers for a philosophy course. There are about 5 or 6 computers lined up on a couple of flat tables, the only other people there are a guy with headphones on at the other corner and a woman sitting at the computer next to me, let's call her Allison. She's around 5'6" tall with long red hair and brown eyes. We had known each other in high school but weren't close friends or anything, just two people from the same high school who happened to end up at the same college.
Apparently there was something funny in the paper I was reading, because I started to laugh at one point. Allison looks away from her computer and asks "What's so funny?" I try to explain it but it apparently wasn't funny to her, she just turned her head and resumed whatever she was doing. A few minutes later I encounter something else funny and laugh out loud again.
"What is it THIS time?" she asks without bothering to look away from her computer screen. I start to explain, but before I can finish explaining she says "I don't get it. I'm trying to concentrate here, stop laughing at stuff that isn't funny." I go back to my reading, finish it up without further ado, but then decide to spend some time reading newsgroups and stumble across some political joke and chuckle a little bit.
Allison turns around in her seat so she's looking straight at me, and tells me "You're laughing again. I'll give you something to laugh about!" At that point, without warning she grabs both of my sides with her hands and starts squeezing hard with her fingers spread out, digging in deeply. Rats. She doesn't even know me that well, has never put her hands on me before, but she's found what is probably the second most ticklish spot on my entire body and I burst out laughing like a little girl. I reflexively snap my arms down to my sides, but that doesn't help any since her hands are already there. I try to move my arms to push them out of the way but she's better at tickling than I am at fighting back, and every time I manage to protect one sensitive spot she just finds a new one. She didn't have long nails or anything but I still think she could give Priscilla James a run for her money.
"Wow, you're so ticklish! Do you like that? You're taller than me but you laugh like a little girl!" she says as she continues her evil deep tissue massage on my sides and stomach. She's only been tickling me for 30 seconds but to me it feels like an hour as I just keep laughing and squirming and trying to not fall out of the chair. After a few more ineffective attempts to fight her off, I end up on the floor next to the chair, trapped between the chair, the table, and those dreaded instruments of torture that are her two soft little feminine hands.
She keeps on tickling me, moving from my sides to my neck, causing me to start thrashing my head and making incoherent gurgling noises. Finally, after what was probably only a minute or two of tickling despite feeling like an eternity to me she stops. I'm too worn out to get back into my chair right away, so I just lay there catching my breath and regaining the composure to move. All she says to me is "Unless you'd like some more of that I suggest you be quiet and let me study." She then turns back around and goes back to her work. I print off the rest of my readings and leave.
And that's about it. I wish I could say that I got some revenge on her, but I was too afraid of learning the hard way that she wasn't ticklish and earning myself another round of torture. I wish I could say that we went on to become good friends or boyfriend/girlfriend and explored our shared interest in tickling but that didn't happen. We didn't interact much after freshman year of college as we were in different programs, but years later I still remember her tickling the hell out of me for a few minutes and how I hated it so much while it was going on, but when I thought about it later I felt excited by it and wished it would happen again. I don't know if she had a tickle fetish or if it was just a playful thing for her but I think she made me discover mine. Thanks to her I often find myself fantasizing about women tickling me, holding me down and going after my worst spots until I'm totally exhausted.
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