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The Reunion
by TicklishGuy8

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I couldn't believe I was doing this. Driving hundreds of miles to see someone I had thought, only a few short weeks ago, was out of my life forever.

We had met on a tickling site. After talking for several weeks, we decided to meet. We had said to each other that we felt something over the phone, but when we met in person, and we looked into each others eyes, it was instant love, and we decided, there and then, we were meant to be lovers, for ever and ever. And it did work. For a while. Then our Love Boat hit a Tsunami, and everything broke apart. It was NOT a pretty sight.

I convinced myself that it was over, for good, and that I never wanted to see him again. HA! The minute I saw his ad on line looking for tickle buddies to hook up with, I knew I had to contact him, even if it was just to curse him out. Yeah, curse him out. Once I heard that voice, all the poison in my system drained right out, and we were right back where we started. You see, I'm a tickling switcher, while he is a versatile tickling top, so we were a match made in Tickle Heaven. Coupled with the fact that we had so many interests beyond tickling in common, and the fact that we could always look past any defects in the other, and could always see the good, made us a true couple, in every sense of the word.

I arrived at his house, butterflies busily working their mischief in my stomach as I prepared to get out and see him for the first time in what felt like ages. I walked to the door, and before I could knock, the door opened, and there he stood.

Dressed in a polo shirt, jeans, and with white socks but no shoes on, he looked at me, those gorgeous brown eyes piercing right into my heart, and I was lost. Without saying a word, we embraced, and our lips locked in such a deep and passionate kiss that I didn't think it would end. I didn't WANT it to end. Ever. But he just had to resort to form. I would have been deeply disappointed if he had not!

As he kissed me, his hands left his embrace of me, slipped down to my lower sides, the most ticklish part of my upper body, and he began to lightly squeeze the tender skin through my shirt right around my waist. My reaction was exactly what he expected; I began to uncontrollably giggle like a little girl. His lips refused to leave mine, and I desperately tried to keep the kiss going, despite the fact that his tickling of my waist went unabated. To make matters worse, he purposely moved his hands around so my shirt was becoming untucked, and within seconds he had hit pay dirt, bare skin!

No one had ever known my body better than he did, and I'm sure no one ever will. He always knew exactly what 'buttons' to push, and he had pushed the right button, again, this time. His tickling of my bare sides forced me to push away, laughing uncontrollably. He allowed me to back off, but not without a loss. He held tight to the ends of my shirt, forcing me to shed it if I wanted relief from the tickling. He won that round. I was now shirtless.

He looked at me with The Smile, which was a smile akin to that of the Grinch. In fact, when he smiled like that, all I could see was the Grinch, with his hair forming those little mock horns, and I loved it! I smiled back, walked over to him, and untucked his shirt. He stood motionless, allowing me to rise the shirt up over his torso, over his head, and off his body. He now stood there topless, and I remembered just why I had always found him to be my Sexiest Man On Earth. I began to caress his chest, moving my fingers over his breasts, down to his nipples, which instantly became rock hard. To my credit, as much as he knew my body, I also knew his, and I was bound and determined to exercise that knowledge right now. I allowed my index finger tips to dance over the tips of his nipples, as I slowly began to kiss and caress his neck with my tongue. It didn't take long at all for him to fall under the spell of this combination, and he threw his head back and absorbed the erotic surge that raced through his body. I kept this up for long minutes, as he fell deeper and deeper into the erotic spell. Then I struck.

When he was in this deep erotic state, his guard came down, and he became extremely vulnerable to tickle attacks, and I knew just how to launch the offensive. I shot my fingers off his nipples and buried them deep in his bare armpits, drilling lightly and fluttering them all over the lightly hairy pits. While I did that, I turned from kissing his neck to flicking my tongue all around the sides of his neck. In seconds he was laughing wildly and trying to pull away, but I kept my fingers buried in his pits, both tickling and holding him in place at the same time, as my tongue continued to tickle his neck, one of his main weak spots. He was mine.

Finally, he was able to squirm out of my hands and back up. I allowed him this release, as it gave me the opportunity to walk over to him and undo his belt and the fastener on his pants, and pull down the zipper. He not only allowed me to do this, but, as his pants fell to his ankles, he stepped out of his pants, then reached down and took off his white socks. He was now standing before me wearing nothing but his light blue briefs, and he was beautiful!

Again The Smile spread across his face as, for the first time since I entered the room, he spoke, "Get to the bedroom. Now. I'll give you 'til the count of 3, then I'm coming after you, and I'll tickle you all the way to the bedroom. If you don't make it, then I'll tickle you until you've reached just the right shade of pink!". I knew he meant business, so I raced for the bedroom, which instinct drove me to, with him in hot pursuit. He lied. He did NOT count to 3!

He tickled my bare back as I ran through the hall. Even as I laughed, I kept going. I knew better than to stop. Finally, I was through the door, and we stood there, at the base of the bed, longingly looking at each other with loving eyes.

At this point he glanced over at the bed, and I understood him as clearly as if he had shouted out his instructions. As I sat on the bed, he instantly got on over me, straddling me at the waist, and began to tickle my bare sides, thereby forcing me up further onto the bed in a desperate attempt to escape those tickling fingers. As he tickled, he also began to undo my belt, and the pants button on my jeans and zipper, so as I moved up the bed away from the tickling, I actually began to involuntarily strip off my own pants. By the time I reached the pillows, my pants were down past my thighs, and he had no problem slipping them down the rest of the way and off to the floor. Now I was wearing only my white boxers and my sheer dress socks, something I had purposely worn knowing how much he loved a man in sheer socks. In fact, the only thing he loved more than a man in sheer socks was a barefoot man, and he proceeded to accomplish this requirement.

I protested "No! Don't take off the socks. Not yet! Plea...", but my request was instantly interrupted by him running his nails lightly across the bare heel of my right foot as he slipped the sock up to my instep. Now, instead of pleading with him not to take my socks off, it was more of, "Sthaahaap! Don't theeheeckle my fheeheet! Not my

FHEEHEEHEET!". But this only made him proceed with greater abandon, as he slowly raised the sock further and further up my foot, exposing more and more of my bare foot flesh.

Now, I should state, for the record, that, while I am extremely ticklish all over (on a scale of 1-10, with 10 being the most ticklish, I have been told I rank a 12), I have two main weakness; my bare feet, especially anywhere on, around, or between my toes, and a certain 'private spot' that will be revealed later in this narrative, and he knows ALL my 'sweet spots' far too well!! He was bound and determined to demonstrate this, and proceeded to do just that.

He moved the sock further and further off my foot, exposing more and more of my bare foot, tickling the sole all the time he was easing the sock off my foot. I was already hysterical, and now he was headed for my main weakness; my toes! I panicked.

"PLHEEHEESE! Not the THOOHOOES! Oh, God, NHOOHOOT THE THOOHOOES! PLHEEHEESE, not theehee THOOHOOHOOES!" I screamed, to no avail. The sock slipped off my foot entirely, and he launched into a full attack on the base and pads of all five now naked digits. I was hysterical, helpless, and all his.

I should have mentioned before that I have two other problems when I'm tickled. First, I become helpless VERY quickly. In this instance, I was pretty well tickled helpless by the rib tickling that had started this Odyssey when we hit the bed, so I was a lost cause when he got to my foot. The second problem is that I am instantly turned on sexually when I'm tickled, and he knew this far too well. I had 'stirrings' downstairs when he tickled my lower ribs, but now that he was tickling my bare foot, I was losing it completely, and he knew this, too.

He continued to tickle my now bare right foot for several minutes, until he was positive that I was completely helpless. At this point, he reached under the bed and pulled out a leather restraint that he quickly fastened around my right wrist. He then tied the rope that was attached to the restraint to the brass beam in the headboard of the bed, immobilizing my right arm up and out to the side, fully exposing my right pit and ribs. "Hey! That's not fair!", I protested weakly. "Who said life is fair?", he responded, that Grinch smile spreading across his gorgeous face. I was doomed.

After tickling my right side for several minutes so that I was helpless again, he proceeded to restrain my left wrist in the same manner as my right. He looked down at his captured prize, and a look of sheer sadistic delight covered his handsome features.

"Now, I'm naked, and you're still wearing a sock and those shorts. THAT'S not fair!", he said in mock outrage. "We'll put a stop to that right now!", and with that he grabbed the waistband of my shorts and, with one yank, had them off of me, throwing them over his shoulder to the floor. "Now for that left sock!", he continued, and I freaked out, "No! Don't tickle my foot AGAIN! Tickle me ANYWHERE but on the feet. You KNOW I can't STAND that!", I shouted. He laughed.

"Poor baby. Are those tootsies ticklwish? Huh?", and he proceeded to ever so slowly peel off my left sock, ultimately leaving me butt naked, just as he was. Then he tickled. And tickled. And tickled some more. He explored every inch of my feet. He started on the left foot, tickling the freshly bared sole for over a half hour. Then he stopped, but only long enough to get into a better position of straddling me so he could get his mouth on the toes of my left foot. Then he did something that he knew would drive me mad. He began to lick between my toes while he ran his fingers ever so softly up and down my left sole. I'm feather sensitive, and he knows it, so he knows that a light, feathery stroke on my bare soles will drive me into a ticklish frenzy. However, couple that with a toe tickling and you WILL ultimately tickle me to death.

He kept this attack up for another half hour, then only stopped long enough to switch feet, repeating his attack on my right bare foot. By the time he finally finished, I was a lump of hysterical, sweaty, jelly with a raging hard on. To be fair, he was rock hard, too. It was rough work tickle torturing his lover half to death. Poor baby!

He looked at his conquest, and the broadest smile I ever saw crossed that Grinchy face. "Now, I think those bare feet of yours need a little spice!", he said, and walked over to the dresser, took something out of the drawer, and reappeared at the foot of the bed with a tube of Peach Flavored Lube! I panicked, yet again. "NOOOOO! Not THAT! Please, for the love of God, I BEG you! Not THAT! Not BOTH FEET AT ONCE, and NOT LIKE THAT!!PLEEEEASE", I screeched.

Then it happened. He knelt down at the base of the bed, right in front of my bare feet, and proceeded to smear the lube all over both of my bare feet at the same time, tickling with every stroke. This tickled even more than before, as the lube was slicking my feet, allowing his fingers to gild over the exposed bare skin, all the while making my feet softer and way more ticklish. I was in Tickle Hell, with no way out. Then he brought it up a notch. He began to lick the lube off the toes of my left foot while he slid his fingers up and down the soles of both feet at once. He was tickling me ten shades of pink, and all the while my member was drooling buckets of pre-cum, with no release in sight!

When he had licked all the lube off of one foot, he would go to work on the opposite one, while he added more lube to the one he was not licking so he could continue to stroke fully lubed soles on both feet while he lapped and nibbled at my toes . He continued this torture for the next hour, and I was tickled beyond all limits I had ever imagined. And horny as Hell!!

"Well, now that I've had something to eat, it's your turn. I want a blow job. NOW!", he demanded. "Yes! Yes! I'll blow you. I'll blow you all day long! Just please! No more tickling! I BEG you, no more TICKLING!", I pleaded.

With that, he climbed on the bed, straddling me at the waist, but facing my feet. "First, we have to warm you up a bit.", he said. I knew EXACTLY what he meant, and I screamed, "NOOOOO! Not AGAIN! PLEASE! Not AGAIN!!", but too late. He laid down on top of me, with his hands down by my feet, and his own feet up by my shoulders, and he proceeded to tickle both of my bare feet with his hands while he inserted his toes into my sides and armpits and wiggled them about, tickling me in four places at one, something I cannot stand, not that THAT mattered to him! All the time he was tickling, he was grinding his swollen cock into my bare stomach, while my own member was pressed up against his abdomen, but not enough to allow me release.

This was the ultimate torture!

Finally, after at least 45 minutes of this Four Way Tickle, he finally stopped. He then straddled me at my shoulders and presented his member to me. I eagerly took it into my mouth and proceeded to stroke his shaft repeatedly with my lips, as my tongue played with his cock head. I never had a problem giving him a blow job, but today, the job had even more earnestness; it was keeping him from tickling my feet! Then he started. He reached back and started to tickle my ribs and armpits. "Better finish the job, or I'll go back to work on those feet!", he ordered. I didn't need any encouragement. Tickling or not, I was going to finish this job. I HAD to get him off, especially if I ever hopped to get any relief myself.

It didn't take half as long as I expected. Within minutes his hands left my side, he went rigid, and he shot his load into my mouth. I proceeded to milk him dry, taking full advantage of this respite from the Tickle Torture I had been enduring. But it would prove to be only a short respite. The worst was yet to come.

He fell back onto the bed after his orgasm, in erotic bliss. Finally, he sat up and announced, "Now, let's get you some relief!". I was ecstatic, "Yes! Please! I HAVE to cum. Please let me cum, or I'll EXPLODE!". "I will", he promised, "but first you must perform a very small task.", and with that he walked back over to the dresser, and took something else out of the drawer and re-approached the side of the bed. When he got there, he laid down next to me, but with his upper body right down by my midsection. Then he showed me what he had removed from the drawer, and I screamed. He had a long turkey feather in his hand!

"Now, lover, time to get you nice and hard, and I know just how to do it. I'm going to TICKLE your BALLS with this feather! ", he announced. "NOOOOOOO! PLEASE DON'T! I BEG you! I'll be your slave for LIFE, just PLEASE! DON'T TICKLE MY BALLS!!!", I begged, but it didn't matter one bit, as he ever so slowly lowered the feather closer and closer to my fully exposed ball sack.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle!", he teased, as the feather came closer, "Kootchie, cootchie, coo!", closer, "Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle! Kitchy, kitchy, kitchy!", closer, then...IMPACT! The feather began to caress my scrotum, and I wanted to die. Instead, I laughed like a madman.

He tickled all over my ball sack. then he moved the feather behind my balls, using the tip to drive me into complete hysterics, all the time making my already straining cock beg for release, before it would explode with pent up cum. But there was no relief. Only more and more tickling.

He tickled my balls with the feather for the next half hour, non-stop, Then he only removed the feather so he could get his head between my legs and lick me behind and on my poor tortured balls, driving me deeper into horny hysterics than I had ever experienced before. I thought I was, quite literally, going to be tickled to death, or, at the very least, have my balls explode from backed up cum! Then, suddenly, he stopped licking my balls, slipped his mouth over my engorged member, and, just as i had done to him an eternity before, he began to stroke my cock with his lips while he licked about my cock head with his tongue. I didn't last two minutes before I exploded in his mouth.

I came like never before, letting loose a river of cum into his mouth, but he didn't let up for a second. He continued to suck me off until I was bone dry. Finally, and reluctantly, his lips left my cock. He sat up, looked down at me, all sweaty, teary, and exhausted, but in complete erotic bliss, and, with that Grinchy smile reappearing on his face, he announced, "Now, let's see how ticklish those feetsies of your are after you've cum!". I screamed, but not as loud as I would do after the next round of orgasms several hours later.

I came four times that night, and he came five. When he finally untied me, the sun was coming up. We had been in bed, in the throes of tickling erotica, for over 18 hours. We showered together, where he tickled me silly while soaping me up, using a soft shower brush to scrub my poor bare feet for over a half hour, at my most ticklish condition, when my feet were soft, wet, warm, and slick with soap. then he repeated the torture immediately after making me cum, adding insult to injury by making sure he got the bristles all around on and between my toes, and, to to bring it up a notch, he began to tickle my stomach and ribs with his toes while he tortured my wet, soapy soles with his tongue and teeth. By the time he was done, we both were ready to cum still again, which we did.

When we finally came out of the shower, we tickle dried each other, then, still naked, went down and had breakfast. After we ate, it was back upstairs, where I got my turn to tie him down and tickle him a few shades of pink on his feet, armpits, and neck. I got to use my tongue a whole lot that weekend, and I was tickled like I had never been tickled before. We did not put cloths on for the entire two and a half days.

On the final night, after having been tickle tortured for the entire day, and after having cum at least four times to his five, we lay in bed, with his head on my naked chest, and my arm around his naked torso, lightly running my fingers up and down his bare back, I looked down at his face as he laid in my arms, in total bliss, looking like an Angel. That was when I knew this was the man of my dreams, the man I was destined to spend the rest of my life with, the true love of my life, and the man I would love forever. Assuming, of course, that he didn't tickle me to death in the process!

But what the Hell, even if he did, it would be at HIS hands, and that is all that would ever matter.