Go for the girls who like YOU
Jello -
Previous replies to your question all have good advice. Maybe my words can help, too.
Tickling the girls we want (that is, beautiful) or meeting attractive women who are into tickling happen mostly in fantasy. What I started learning just when I was your age: the girls you tickle the most are the ones who want to please YOU.
I encourage you to go for it when you meet an attractive girl. But your best bet for finding a girl to tickle is taking advantage of the girls who find YOU attractive. Some might be cute, others plain Janes. But give me the plain Jane who lets me have my way with her instead of the knockout that's too much pain for the pleasure.
Until I was 20 years old, my tickling life were all hit and runs. I didn't date much, being overweight and lacking self-confidence. But in college my junior year, I met a woman named Joyce who illustrates the point I'm trying to make.
Joyce was no beauty, though not bad. She was slim with long brown hair, two things I like. Her face was plain. Most significantly, besides the fact she was ticklish, Joyce LIKED ME A LOT.
The first time we got together I tickled Joyce repeatedly. She
laughed, squirmed and, to my delight, did not get mad. As we continued dating, tickling Joyce was as common as kissing. Even when I made her mad, she never left or threatened to break up with me. Joyce was under my thumb - and the rest of my fingers that were tickling her.
It was easy enough to hold Joyce on the sofa and tickle her midsection. She was maybe 5'3," a slim 105 lbs. with no muscle. How many times I tickled her on the sofa through the year we dated, I can't count.
Joyce lived around the corner from me. That made it easy to see her daily, and that meant I tickled her daily. One time Joyce said she liked being with me, "except when you tickle me." Her plea did no good, as when a woman wants you, Jello, she will put up with a heck of a lot!
The best tickling fun I had with Joyce came under the guise of giving her a back massage. I would get her relaxed but before long the tickling started. Joyce would lay on her stomach on my bed (or hers) and I would straddle her, massaging her back. Then I would
fold back her arms, holding her wrists together with one hand while I tickled either side with the other. Joyce would squirm, then wriggle, saying, "Stop . . . STOP . . .," inevitably followed by her delightful scream as she shook, trying to free herself!
Ah, Joyce . . . I can't believe how many times you accepted my offer of a massage, not to mention how many times you asked me for a massage! You must have known what was coming!
Even when Joyce did not remove her shirt for my massage, by having her arms up, her shirt would untuck from her waist, her creamy-white, ticklish sides exposed to my devilish fingertips.
Being college students, Joyce and I had roommates, so privacy was not always guaranteed. But one time Joyce and I were alone in a home she was house-sitting. That may have been the most intense massage-tickle I put her through. I had Joyce screaming and thrashing about as I held those wrists, tickling her sensitive sides. She was really mad! But you know what? She did not tell me to leave. SHE WANTED ME.
Sometimes during a massage-tickle I would reach back and tickle Joyce's feet. That really drove her berserk. She kicked like a mule to make me quit it.
You know what? If I had asked, Joyce would have married me. And as perfect a tickle victim as Joyce was, I didn't want her for the rest of my life. But sometimes when I wish I had a girl to tickle, I
wonder if I should have married Joyce!
Jello, if I could have had any girl at that college, Joyce would not even have made the top 500. But since I was Number One in her eyes, that's why she was the girl I tickled.
Moral of the story: Concentrate on the girls who pick you, not the girls you would pick. The girls who want you are dying to please you.
