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Tickle my pink

 

Laughter is infectious, but it affects some of us differently to others. Tickling turns me on. In fact, I had my first orgasm fantasizing about being tickled. Personally, I think having a tickle fetish is no stranger than being into massage, since the mechanics of it are all about being touched in a particular way, except that usually in the tickling scene the ticklee is bound or tied in a way that gives complete access to their most ticklish parts.

In the tickling scene – and thanks to the internet there is such a thing – you are either a ticklee or a tickler. But unlike BDSM, a fetish that has certain similarities, everyone is usually happy to be both. I have yet to meet a person who likes being tickled but isn’t willing to be a tickler themselves when the time comes around.

I get wet within a few minutes of starting to be ticked, probably because I’ve attached a deep sexual desire to it. My favorite thing is to have my hands tied to the bedhead above me, but my feet free of constraint, and only be wearing panties – I like that small layer of protection because it leaves a trace of doubt about how far this is going to go. Then my boyfriend, who knows my entire body map of tickle spots like the back of his hand by now, will tease me with a feather. That quickly escalates to fingers and by the time he’s reached my belly, I am wild with desire and laughing myself hysterical.

Sometimes, it’s purely playful – for instance, I’m in the kitchen cooking and he’ll jump out on me and tickle me mercilessly. Other times he’ll tickle me for a half hour without removing my underwear and it never goes further than that. These are rare occasions for us since my boyfriend isn’t actually a tickle lover himself, this is just for my own personal gratification. But for the main, in my life, tickling is a precursor to sex.

This is not how it is for everybody, I’m more than aware of that. Before I met my current boyfriend, I was a member of some small tickle groups, and we would all meet up in twos or threes and indulge in some tickle sessions, just pure tickling, nothing else. It was a good mix of people, a good balance of ticklees and ticklers, and a great way to while away an afternoon. When you have three people in a hotel room together and each of them just loves to be tickled, the time flies by in a chorus of laughter, giggling and straight up cackling.

Some of the people in the group had some embarrassment about what they were into, and I can understand that. There’s always a stigma to anything that’s out of the ordinary. I’ve tried reasoning with some, but at the end of the day, you can’t reason away a person’s shame, that’s something they have to do for themselves. The good news is, though, that since they’re into tickling, they’ll always be able to laugh about it.

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