Does anybody have any memories or journal entries of true tickling experiences during the 1980's? Here is part of a tickling journal I started to document such precious experiences....
During the early 80’s, I was back in the Washington DC area working for a small telecommunications company in Northern Virginia. In 1981 I met a girl who was so pretty, I was smitten every time I saw her. Moreover, her boyfriend was moving to Denver, CO. Before we ever went out, I would see her at parties and just basque in her paralyzing good looks. Her name was Valerie and she was very quiet, shy, and demure. Or so I thought. I was tending the fire at one of these parties, and she came up and started a friendly conversation with me. She saw I was having difficulty juggling the logs in the fireplace and asked me if everything was okay. With both hands full, I said, “yeah, but whatever you do, don’t tickle me.” So of course she reached over and tickled my ribs. At that point, my infatuation with her was complete.
Two months after that we were dating steadily. She definitely enjoyed tickling in general and me in particular. For example, there was a Donkey Kong video arcade game at Springfield Mall. I couldn’t resist the games and I’d automatically throw in a quarter, while she was left waiting “patiently” for me. Valerie tolerated these spontaneous games for a while but when she’d had enough, she would stand behind me while I was hunched over the game and start tickling my ribs and sides from behind, until I lost all of my extra plays. Like any natural tickler, Valerie often tickled just for fun, but she also used it as a tool quite frequently. Curiously, she was a black belt in karate (don’t what degree) and would often enjoy getting me in some bizarre hold and then tickling me voraciously. She also loved tickling me in the swimming pool. I would float on my back in the water which requires an almost total cessation of motion plus maintaining 70% lung capacity. She’d reach under me and effortlessly lead me around the pool, while tickling my tummy with her free hand. It was a challenge to endure the tickling while maintaining floatation.
I once talked Valerie into tying me and tickling me. All she really did was tie my wrists together, but for her, that was enough. Boy, she let me have it. She tickled me long and hard. I was laughing maniacally and begging her to stop. Her hands were like lightening, all over my torso, thighs, and feet. I was thrashing wildly but she always kept ahead of me. We were on my king-size bed and she would use her shapely body to trap me and hold me in place while her hands coaxed untold decibels of laughter from me. She did this for the entire afternoon, after which I was so exhausted I could barely stand up. Ultimately Valerie and I broke up, but I still cherish those memories.
At the job, I was working as a network controller in a computer room. About half of the computer operators were female. There was one in particular who was in her early 30’s. Her name was Maria and she was sexy as hell. She was clearly Latina, but raised in the USA, without any Spanish accent whatsoever. She was one of those down to earth women to whom you could talk about anything. She had a habit of walking up behind me as I’m sitting at the workstation and she’d scratch my back softly, absolutely melting me. Her nails seemed to be absolutely perfect for scratching and for tickling. She learned quickly my love of tickling and absolutely delighted in it. Sometimes, late at night, she would tickle me as I lie down on a dubious bed of computer paper boxes. She loved to get me to the point where I’m past any audible laughter, just kind of wheezing and convulsing. Maria once confessed to me that she often tickled her husband well beyond his limits of endurance. She boasted to me that all she’d have to do is wiggle her fingers in his direction and he would go weak in the knees. The tickling wasn’t sexual for her. What she liked so much was the complete power it gave her over another individual. Though Maria was known to have extramarital sex with other men in the company, she and I never did. To me, I was getting something far more precious. 🙂
During the early 80’s, I was back in the Washington DC area working for a small telecommunications company in Northern Virginia. In 1981 I met a girl who was so pretty, I was smitten every time I saw her. Moreover, her boyfriend was moving to Denver, CO. Before we ever went out, I would see her at parties and just basque in her paralyzing good looks. Her name was Valerie and she was very quiet, shy, and demure. Or so I thought. I was tending the fire at one of these parties, and she came up and started a friendly conversation with me. She saw I was having difficulty juggling the logs in the fireplace and asked me if everything was okay. With both hands full, I said, “yeah, but whatever you do, don’t tickle me.” So of course she reached over and tickled my ribs. At that point, my infatuation with her was complete.
Two months after that we were dating steadily. She definitely enjoyed tickling in general and me in particular. For example, there was a Donkey Kong video arcade game at Springfield Mall. I couldn’t resist the games and I’d automatically throw in a quarter, while she was left waiting “patiently” for me. Valerie tolerated these spontaneous games for a while but when she’d had enough, she would stand behind me while I was hunched over the game and start tickling my ribs and sides from behind, until I lost all of my extra plays. Like any natural tickler, Valerie often tickled just for fun, but she also used it as a tool quite frequently. Curiously, she was a black belt in karate (don’t what degree) and would often enjoy getting me in some bizarre hold and then tickling me voraciously. She also loved tickling me in the swimming pool. I would float on my back in the water which requires an almost total cessation of motion plus maintaining 70% lung capacity. She’d reach under me and effortlessly lead me around the pool, while tickling my tummy with her free hand. It was a challenge to endure the tickling while maintaining floatation.
I once talked Valerie into tying me and tickling me. All she really did was tie my wrists together, but for her, that was enough. Boy, she let me have it. She tickled me long and hard. I was laughing maniacally and begging her to stop. Her hands were like lightening, all over my torso, thighs, and feet. I was thrashing wildly but she always kept ahead of me. We were on my king-size bed and she would use her shapely body to trap me and hold me in place while her hands coaxed untold decibels of laughter from me. She did this for the entire afternoon, after which I was so exhausted I could barely stand up. Ultimately Valerie and I broke up, but I still cherish those memories.
At the job, I was working as a network controller in a computer room. About half of the computer operators were female. There was one in particular who was in her early 30’s. Her name was Maria and she was sexy as hell. She was clearly Latina, but raised in the USA, without any Spanish accent whatsoever. She was one of those down to earth women to whom you could talk about anything. She had a habit of walking up behind me as I’m sitting at the workstation and she’d scratch my back softly, absolutely melting me. Her nails seemed to be absolutely perfect for scratching and for tickling. She learned quickly my love of tickling and absolutely delighted in it. Sometimes, late at night, she would tickle me as I lie down on a dubious bed of computer paper boxes. She loved to get me to the point where I’m past any audible laughter, just kind of wheezing and convulsing. Maria once confessed to me that she often tickled her husband well beyond his limits of endurance. She boasted to me that all she’d have to do is wiggle her fingers in his direction and he would go weak in the knees. The tickling wasn’t sexual for her. What she liked so much was the complete power it gave her over another individual. Though Maria was known to have extramarital sex with other men in the company, she and I never did. To me, I was getting something far more precious. 🙂
