The Hopelessly Ticklish Student – Chapter 1
I threw my keys on the hook as I entered my parents’ house. I was home for the summer following my junior year of college and looking forward to getting some alone time. Tomorrow, my parents and high-school-aged brother were taking off for a month in Hawaii visiting my grandparents. Travel restrictions would force them to quarantine for the first two weeks after arrival, so they decide to just stay the month.
I could’ve joined them, but truthfully, I preferred to stay and have the whole house to myself. They had come up with a list of house repairs and projects to complete while they were away and offered to pay me two-thousand-bucks to complete the list, so it was a win-win.
I could hear my parents in the living room talking to someone. I walked into the living room and was caught off guard by the familiar sight of their guest. “Oh, hi, Hunter,” my mom said. “This is…”
“Mr. Johnson?” I asked, cutting her off.
“Oh, you know Jason?” she asked.
“Well, I didn’t know his first name is Jason!” I answered with a laugh. “Mr. Johnson was my student teacher in senior English.” I walked over to him with a smile and shook hands.
“Well, I’m no longer your teacher, Hunter. And you’ve clearly grown into a man so you can just call me Jason,” he said with a smile. “You must be in college or right out of college?” he asked, looking me up and down.
“I just finished my junior year,” I explained. “At UCLA.”
“Good for you, man,” he said. “I recall you were a pretty smart kid, so glad to see you are pursuing your college degree.”
“So…so what you are doing here?” I asked, still trying to make sense of my high school student teacher standing in my living room.
“Oh, we’ve hired Jason to do the repairs while we are gone,” my mom explained. “He worked construction while in college, has the summer free and was looking to earn some money.”
“B…but I thought you were going to pay me to do the work?” I stammered, getting a little pissed that they hired someone else.
“Oh, Hunter, you’re still going to do the work and get paid,” my mom said, laughing. “But there’s way too much for one person to do, and some of the things we need done you don’t have experience or skills to do, but Jason does. You’ll be his helper, Son.” I nodded understandingly, still a little bothered that they sprung this on me, but in a way glad I’d have help. Especially from a hot dude like Jason.
“Your parents are also helping me out,” Jason explained, “because I’m buying a house but don’t close for a month. Since I had to move out of my apartment today, your parents graciously offered to let me stay here for the month while we make the repairs.”
I nodded, and left the room after they continued their discussion, feeling blindsided by the change in plans. Frankly, I was a little pissed because I wasn’t expecting to have a roommate. But then I started recalling when he was my student teacher during my senior year, remembering I had the biggest crush on him. He was an incredibly good-looking dude with an amazing, lean and muscular body.
And that hadn’t changed. In fact, he’d grown into his looks even more and now is stunningly handsome, with smooth olive skin, short dark hair, close-cropped beard, and piercing blue eyes. Like he could be a model he is that good-looking.
The other thing I remembered was his hairy chest, little wisps poking out of his dress shirts that kept me distracted the entire class. I’ve always had a thing for hairy chested guys. He wasn’t wearing his dress shirt today but rather a form-fitting polo, which showed off his amazing physique, and there was that sexy black matte of fine hair visible from his open collar.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to hang out and work with him for a month, I thought to myself. Mabye I’ll get a chance to see more of his hot body if I’m living with the dude? I suddenly noticed I had a little wood forming in my gym shorts contemplating the potential upside of this unexpected arrangement.
“All right, Hunter,” Jason boomed as he came through the room on his way out the door. “I’ll see you in the morning, bright and early, ready to get started on the work.”
“Early?” I said with a grimace. “Like how early?” I had enjoyed sleeping in over the past few weeks of living at my parents.
“Let’s plan to get started at 8,” he said with smile as he left the house. Oh yeah, that’s the other hot thing I recalled about Jason;.that deep baritone, masculine voice he had. At times he sounded like a radio announcer. I wasn’t sure I was going to like getting up early but otherwise felt hopeful it would be an interesting few weeks.
I stayed up too late, as usual, but set my alarm for early as I went to bed. When my alarm went off at 7:30, I snoozed it a couple of times, and then turned it off planning to get up. Next thing I knew I was deep asleep and dreaming of wrestling around with some buddies when one of them started tickling my foot, a common occurrence.
The tickling was unbearable in my dream, but I couldn’t seem to free my ankle from his grip and stop the maddening tickling sensations. As I emerged from the dream state and started to wake, for some reason the tickling didn’t stop. I burst into laughter and looked down to see Jason standing at the foot of my bed, a devilish smile on his face while he tickled my bare foot sticking out from under the covers.
“Dude!” I cried out, turning over and pulling my foot away from him. I was still half asleep and trying to process the situation in my groggy state. “Why are you tickling my feet?” I blurted out while I rubbed my eyes and tried to wake up.
“Because it’s 8:20, Hunter,” he said calmly. “We were supposed to get started at 8. I tried making noise when I brought my clothes upstairs, called your name, even shook you and you were sound asleep so had to find some way to wake you.”
“Alright, man, I’ll get up,” I said sleepily, laying my head on the soft pillow, my arm stretched over my head and closing my eyes for a moment.
“Hunter,” he said sternly, using his best teacher-authority voice, “You have to get up now. We have a lot to get done in the next few weeks, and we’re both getting paid to do this. What do I have to do to get you out of this bed?” he asked with a laugh, grabbing my ankle with one hand and launching another tickling attack on my bare foot with his free hand, this tickle attack far more aggressive than his previous one.
“Haaahahahah!” I cried out. “Okay, okay I’m getting up!” I protested, yanking my foot away from his tickling fingers as I sat up, now fully awake. He laughed and left the room, and I sat there taking stock of what just happened. There was something about the combination of his mischievous smile and him tickling my foot that was giving me major wood.
“Well played, Mr. Johnson,” I thought to myself smiling as I got out of bed and threw on some gym shorts. It was kind of crazy to think about my high school student teacher man crush tickling the shit out of me. I mean, it’s not surprising, because I’m so fucking ticklish and most buddies figure it out at some point, so I get tickled a lot. But still, this was Mr. Johnson, the studly assistant basketball coach and teacher I used to jack off fantasizing about in high school.
I grabbed a tee shirt and threw it over my shoulder as I headed downstairs to get some coffee. Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I turned and asked Jason what was on tap for the day. He had a complete list of projects written on our kitchen whiteboard to be completed over the next month.
“We’re going to start with a few small repairs, like the shower rod in the guest bath upstairs, and otherwise do spackling and prepping of the rooms upstairs for painting. If we get all of that done today, we can start the painting tomorrow.” he answered. I couldn’t help but notice his thorough visual inspection up and down my shirtless body while he talked. I wondered if he found me as visually distracting as I found him.
We grabbed our tools and headed upstairs to do the work. Jason was easy to chat with. He was actually pretty cool, and turns out we had a lot in common. I didn’t mind the work so much and he was a good teacher and guide. We finished the small repairs and began the process of spackling and preparing the bedrooms upstairs for painting.
Periodically glancing at Jason’s trim, muscular body covered in a fitted tee shirt, I began to recall why I had so much trouble concentrating in senior English. There is something about Jason—a confidence and athletic swagger—that made him a true guy’s guy, and really attractive. Of course, the model-good-looks and rocking body helped as well. I recalled how hot I found him as an assistant basketball coach, where I really got to see his athleticism come through. I found myself wondering what that torso looked like underneath his tight tee-shirt.
The air conditioning on the second floor of my parents’ house has always been lousy, and we’d been experiencing a heatwave. By afternoon, it was getting pretty hot, especially when working on a ladder near the ceiling. We’d both begun to sweat, and I couldn’t help but notice Jason’s intense gazing every time I lifted my shirt to wipe the perspiration from my forehead, revealing my six-pack abs covered in a light matte of brown hair. In fact, the more I noticed it, the more I did it purposely to confirm he was in fact checking me out.
But then he started doing the same with his shirt, revealing his own rippling abs adorned with a cascading matte of silky black hair, and I made sure I didn’t miss a shot. It was as though we were both visually teasing the other without a word.
“Okay, Hunter,” Jason said just after four. “I have to run by the paint store before they close to pick up supplies for tomorrow, and I need to drop off the keys to my apartment and pick my last few items. I should be back in an hour or so. Hopefully you can finish up preparing your brother’s room. That should be the last bedroom that needs prepping for painting.”
“No problem, man,” I responded with a nod. “I’ll get it done.” Jason left and I moved the ladder over to my younger brother Kyle’s room. It was getting pretty hot so I stripped off my tee-shirt to make it a little more comfortable as I worked. I also grabbed my earbuds and got some music cranking while I worked.
The walls were in pretty good shape, and with the tunes going it didn’t take me long to get all of the spackling and other prep done. I noticed the chin up bar hanging from Kyle’s closet doorway, so I decided to work off some steam by doing some pull ups. It felt good to work out a little, so I managed to power through three sets of 10.
The last set was definitely the slowest as my arms tired, and on the last couple I found myself hanging at the bottom for a few seconds before pulling my body back up. Just as I was about to make the last pull up, I felt the unmistakable assault of fingers poking and pressing into my ultra-ticklish rib cage. I was caught completely off guard and burst into laughter, my body swinging back and forth wildly to avoid the tickle attack until I could get my feet down and whirl around to face my attacker. There was Jason with that same mischievous smile on his face, clearly delighted he got me in another surprise tickle attack.
“Dude!” I complained. “It’s not fair you keep catching me off guard like that!” We both laughed at how silly that sounded.
“Seriously, Hunter, I called your name a couple of times and you were oblivious with the music blasting and working out. Had to let you know I was here somehow!” Truthfully, I was finding the little mischievous tickle attacks kind of hot, especially coming from a dude as hot as Jason. “So is this your secret to building such a rockin’ bod these days with gyms closed?” he asked with a smile, looking my shirtless body up and down.
“Nah, man, only Kyle uses this,” I responded. “Before I left for college, I had built a small gym downstairs with some free weights and benches. When gyms closed, my dad spent some money adding to the equipment to give us all a place to work out and stay in shape. Wanna’ see it?”
“Sure!” he replied. “That’s been a major challenge for me, trying to stay in shape when gyms closed due to the shutdowns. Even the little gym in my apartment complex is closed.”
“Well, I certainly can’t tell you’ve not been working out,” I said teasingly, looking his body up and down. He smiled with appreciation. “I’ll show you the gym. You’re welcome to use it while you’re staying here,” I said as I escorted him through the kitchen to the garage. I hit the button to open the third garage door and flipped on the light. “Only downside is it’s in the garage so on days this hot, makes for a warm workout.”
“Wow, this is pretty impressive!” Jason exclaimed, surveying the space complete with a rack of free weights, a couple of benches, standing weight bars and a few multi-gym pieces to provide a complete workout. “You sure it’ll okay if I use it?”
“Sure, man,” I responded. “In fact, I was planning to do a workout now if you’re interested.” He nodded and went upstairs to change into gym clothes. I began warming up and Jason soon returned, wearing only gym shorts and no shirt, much to my delight. As we worked out in the 90-plus-degree garage, our bodies glistened with sweat. I was finally able to gaze openly at Jason’s magnificent torso, now fully revealed.
He was indeed muscular and lean, with decent-sized shoulders and arms. His V-shaped torso was adorned with a sexy matte of soft black hair covering his rippling chest and cascading down and flaring out across his flat abs. Again, I was reminded of when he was my student teacher, wearing open-collared dress shirts that allowed a few of those wisps of chest hair to be visible. I’ve always had a thing for masculine dudes with hairy chests, and Jason was fulfilling my expectations of what I’d imagined was under that tee-shirt he’d been wearing completely.
I couldn’t help but notice he was checking me out as much as I was checking him out. As we wrapped up and grabbed bottles of water, he was definitely looking me up and down.
“Dude, you sure have grown up since when I had you as a student in class. Very impressive body you’ve built as a young man,” he said with a smile.
“Geez, thanks, man,” I responded, blushing but appreciative he noticed. “That means a lot coming from a guy in as good as shape as you.”
“Any interest in a short run, maybe a couple of miles?” he asked.
“Sure, I always try to get some cardio in,” I responded. We stretched out a bit, closed up the garage and headed out on a run through the neighborhood. I found myself wondering if Jason might be gay, given some of his comments and apparent interest in my body. “So, you got a girlfriend?” I asked as innocently as possible as we ran side by side.
“Nah, man,” he said quickly, flashing an intriguing smile. “You?”
“Nope,” I responded, adding in a nervous laugh wondering if he hadn’t picked up on me checking him out.
“I don’t have a boyfriend, either,” he added, flashing me a wink and a teasing smile, catching me completel off guard.
“Ah, well, no boyfriend for me either,” I answered with a wink and knowing smile. At least we now knew where we stood. When we returned from the run, dripping with sweat, I suggested we cool off in the pool. We threw on swim trunks, I grabbed a couple of beers from the refrigerator and we headed to the pool, jumping in to cool off our bodies.
After swimming around for a bit, we both settled on to the Baja step in the shallow end, which allowed us to rest our backs against the cool pool tile, stretch out legs out and face each other for conversations, beers nearby for refreshment.
Facing him, his arms stretched outward on the side of the pool, I couldn’t take my eyes off his torso fully exposed and on display, the silky black hair swirling in a wet matte across his massive chest. His massive armpits, now fully exposed and also lined with matted hair, were turning me on.
We chatted easily and thanks to the beer, grew more relaxed in choice of topics. “You know,” I finally blurted out, “I have a confession. I had such a crush on you when you were a student teacher in my senior year.”
“Yeah?” he said with a smile. “I’m flattered, man.” I didn’t really know what to say after that and we sat for a moment in awkward silence. “I don’t recall much about my time in the classroom with you, to tell you the truth,” he said, breaking the silence. “But I do remember you playing on the basketball team.”
“That’s right, you were the assistant coach!” I recalled.
“Yeah, I recall you were a decent player and athlete,” he added. “Although, what’s kind of funny is the thing that sticks in my mind the most about you was this one time when I came into the locker room after practice. You guys had been showering and I heard a bit of a commotion coming from the shower area.” I could feel my face turning red, wondering if he was recalling the same incident that I remembered from that locker room.
“Yeah?” I said nervously.
“Yeah, it was kind of odd because I could hear you laughing your head off and yelling or something so came around the corner and saw that a few of the guys, like Miller and Chadwick I recall, had pinned you down on the bench. Ya’ll were only wearing towels and the other guys were holding your arms above your head and others were sitting on your ankles and they were tickling the shit out of you!” he said with a laugh. My face had to be beet red by this point, and I felt a hot flash wash through my body.
“Oh yeah, I remember that,” I answered nervously, wondering what he was thinking. “I don’t recall you being there. Did you break it up?”
“No,” he answered solemnly, “but I should have. I’ve always felt regret over that day, because at the time I thought it was probably just harmless fun. I mean it wasn’t like they were beating you up or forcing you to have sex, just tickling your feet, pits, sides and the like,” he said with an awkward laugh. “But now that hazing has emerged as a serious problem in high school sports and guys being raped and shit, I felt like I should’ve broken it up. I sure hope they didn’t hurt you?”
I was surprised he’d held onto this for so long. “Don’t sweat it, man,” I responded with a laugh. “They didn’t do anything sexually to me. They just tickled the shit out of me to the point of making me beg for mercy.” Talking about the incident was giving me a major hard on.
“I’m relieved, Hunter,” he said, clearly glad it didn’t go badly. “Why in the hell were they tickle torturing you like that?” he asked with that same mischievous smile I’d seen from him when he had launched tickle attacks on me. Just hearing this studly crush of mine blurt out the words “tickle torture” had my dick rock hard and pressing against my swim trunks, which were fortunately hidden by being underwater.
“Honestly, I don’t even remember what I did, just that I did something to piss a few of the guys off,” I answered. “I guess I was a bit of a cocky dude in high school, and it sometimes rubbed guys the wrong way.”
“Hmmm, okay. But pinning you down and tickling you?” he probed curiously. I just laughed.
“Yeah, Dude, unfortunately It never seems to take people long to figure out my greatest weakness is being hopelessly ticklish. Everywhere! Seems buddies are always taking shots at me when I’m not expecting it. Including you!” I said with a laugh.
“Guilty as charged,” he said with a laugh, taking the last gulp of his beer. “Full disclosure, it’s because I saw that incident that day, so I knew tickling is a sure-fire a way to get your attention, if I want to wake you or let you know I’ve arrived.” We both laughed. “Or just because!” he blurted out, a mischievous smile on his face as he suddenly grabbed my ankle, lifting my foot out of the water and launching an aggressive tickle attack on my barefoot.
He caught me completely off guard and the flood of tickling sensations he was delivering to my sensitive foot were unbearable. “No, wait…STOP!” I cried out, bursting into laughter and trying to free my ankle from his grip. But he must’ve expected me to try to rescue my foot and held on tight, his fingers expertly dancing up and down my wet sole. The evil grin on his face was priceless as he thoroughly enjoyed having the upper hand with me and destroying me by using my greatest weakness against me. “Dude, cut it out!” I cried out becoming more desperate to free my ankle from his grip and stop the merciless torment of my barefoot. “Hhaaaahhahahahahah!” By this point, I was growing frantic and splashing in the water to get away from him, managing to grab a handrail and pulling hard with my arm to finally free myself from his grip.
We both laughed as I worked to catch my breath. Truth is, I wasn’t pissed. Rather, I was totally turned on. Tickling had turned me on for as long as I could remember. On that day when he saw the guys in the locker room tickle torturing me, it was started by my best friend who knew how ticklish I am and loved to get into wrestling matches with me, where he’d always manage to pin me down and tickle the shit out of me.
I’d jacked off many times over that incident, especially because the guys doing it were some of the hottest and cockiest jocks on the basketball team. I’d hooked up with a few dudes while in college who had some interest in tickling but had never been able to replicate anything as intense or hot as that locker room scene. I secretly fantasized over someday getting tied and mercilessly tickled by a guy or several guys. I’d also jacked off many times to some of the videos on the Internet of guys being tied up and tickled, like many of the videos from My Friends Feet.
And here was this amazingly hot, masculine dude who was crashing at my house for a month who definitely seemed to have as much interest in tickling me as I had in being tickled. After that blatant tickle attack, and the other more minor ones, I wondered if this could possibly turn into the most fun month of my life. I decided that maybe I should find ways to provoke him to see how far he’d take his attacks.
“Dude, that wasn’t fair!” I complained as I flashed my own mischievous smile and came toward him unexpectedly grabbing him around the waist, picking him up and body slamming into the water to dunk him. Curious if he might also be ticklish, I made sure to poke and squeeze his rib cage as dunked him the water. Jason came up laughing and sputtering, clearly having sucked in some water from my out-of-the-blue dunking.
“You are so in trouble, dude!” he blurted out with a laugh as he sprung toward me, wrapping his muscular arms around me, and as he spun me around on the way to dunking me, he tickled my side and abs non-stop. The tickling was unbearable, and I burst into laughter, while squirming to try to get free of his grip. But there was no escaping and the tickling assault further weakened me, making me helpless to stop him from shoving me under the water. But the son-of-a-bitch kept up his tickling attack the whole time even while holding me under the water. I finally managed to squirm free and come up for air, coughing and choking and laughing.
I immediately lunged for him in retaliation and thus began about a five-minute wrestling and tickling match between us, with both of us ending up under water. It became clear that we were somewhat evenly matched in strength, but I was far more ticklish than he, giving him the upper hand. The rubbing of our bodies as we wrestled along with his relentless tickling attacks was giving me a raging hard on.
At one point I managed to swim away from him and circle back, swimming under the water until I could grab his ankle and yank it up out of the water hoping to cause him to lose his balance and go under. Unfortunately, his athletic prowess enabled him to simply balance his weight, leaving me standing there holding his ankle and him just laughing at my futile attempt.
I began dancing my fingers up and down his barefoot, suspended in midair by my grip. I was disappointed that he didn’t react beyond a smile at first. Jesus, how could anyone not be ticklish on their soles of their feet?! It’s one of my most ticklish spots…I can’t stand to be tickled on my feet. And he was just chuckling and looking cockily at me. But I decided to keep going and hope he ight be ticklish enough to break. Sure enough he began to squirm a bit and try to yank his foot away, a twisted smile taking over his face.
I became even more aggressive tickling his foot determined to break him. He burst into laughter and began yanking harder to try to free his foot from my tickle attack. “So you ARE ticklish, too!” I yelled with a laugh. He finally lost his balance from his futile attempts to free his ankle from my grip and plunged backward into the water, roaring with laughter. Remembering how he tickled me even after I was under water, I decided to cut him zero slack, holding his ankle above the water and tickling his foot.
He finally was able to free his ankle from my grip, bursting up from the water choking and coughing. He had a sheepish grin on his face, and I had a satisfied grin on mine, knowing I’d broken his tough guy act. “Okay, man, let’s call a truce,” he said once he got his breath back. “Besides, I’m getting hungry. I picked up some ground beef at the store this afternoon. Want to grill some burgers?”
I agreed and we got out of the water, toweling off. We grabbed a couple more beers, the food and proceeded to hang out working the grill and pulling together a decent dinner. It was still warm out even though the sun was starting to set, so both of us just kept our swim trunks on and nothing else, which gave me an amazing view of his muscular, lean body with the sexy matte of hair. He clearly seemed to be enjoying the view my swimsuit-clad body was giving him as well.
After an enjoyable dinner on the patio, we cleaned up, showered and ended up in the family room to watch some TV. I was thrilled that he didn’t bother throwing clothes on after his shower. We both ended up on the giant couch wearing just our boxers, drinking a beer and watching a movie. Between the heat, the work and the workout he gave me, I eventually grew sleepy and dozed off before the movie was over, which is not uncommon for me at the end of the day.
