When the hug turns to tickles

Someone who fills my life with so much light... and fills our home with the sweetest ticklish laughter I've ever heard.

Someone who I feel such joy and calm and peace coming home to every day... and who loves that me tickling her to bits is my favorite way to show how much I love and appreciate her.

Someone who I trust completely to take care of me and my heart, and who knows I'll always do the same for her... so she doesn't even hesitate to bare her most vulnerable, ticklish spots for me to play with.

Someone who I laugh with more than I ever have before... and not just because her adorable reactions when I'm scribbling on her feet make me laugh along with her.

Someone who's the most gorgeous person I've ever met... and who is somehow even more beautiful with a huge smile on her face when she's happily laughing and squirming in my arms.

Someone who's caring and patient with me... and who bursts into adorable anticipatory giggles when I take my time waiting just a few more seconds to start squeezing her thighs and knees again.

Someone who's always wanted the sort of sweet, gentle partnership we share... and who's always secretly wanted that partner to be her own personal, relentlessly teasy tickle monster.

Someone who challenges me to be better every day... and challenges me to find even better, more flustering ways to make her double over in ticklish laughter

And someone who is always trying to be better for me, for us... and is always trying to keep her arms up just a little longer to let herself be tickled silly.

Someone who loves me for who I am... an incredibly lucky, dorky guy who just can't get enough of making her smile.

I want to spend a cozy evening scavenging the house with you for all the silly things I could tickle you with.

Sure, there's the obvious tools, like your paintbrushes, or my steadily growing collection of feathers. But what about that fake confetti in that gift box you got me? Or this weird back massager I found at the back of the closet? Or that little fluffball on top of your winter hat? I bet that’d tickle twirling over your belly button.

They may be unconventional, but who knows - some of them might surprise you! In the end, it’s more about the fun of exploring with you and heightening your anticipation with tickly thoughts about how anything we find could be used to make you blush and giggle.

By the time we’ve gotten back to the bedroom and you’re laying down, tummy exposed and a huge grin on your face, you’ll be so sensitized waiting for your tickles that just about anything could make you laugh. I bet you’re giggling just thinking about it.

And then, as I’m gently gliding all manner of silly things over your quivering belly, you’ll be simply consumed with giggles - because it tickles, of course, and because of the sheer ridiculousness that I’m actually managing to tickle you with a pair of drumsticks.

Truthfully, though, we know there’s one tried and true way to really tickle you. So, when your cute, gentle giggles finally get the best of me and make it impossible to stop myself from tickling you to bits, I’ll toss aside whatever’s in my hands and pounce with my squeezy, scribbly fingertips all over your upper body. I don’t really need to scavenge - I’ve always got all the tools I need right on hand to get you giggling at any moment’s notice.

So, darling, if you'd like to prove your own helplessness, then feel free - try all you'd like. Sooner or later, you'll discover there's nothing you can do and just give in to the giggles. After all, once you've tuckered yourself out and realized there's no use fighting it, you might as well just lean back and enjoy the delightfully ticklish touches I have in store for you.

On one hand, you’re frantically thinking, “no of course I’m not ready, you’re about to tickle me, oh my gosh it’s going to tickle so much, I can’t even get away, ohmygosh ohmygosh I’m too ticklish for this-”

And yet, your heart is bursting with excitement, “yes, yes, please, tickle me tickle me tickle me, I’ve been waiting so long to be tickled and I’m just so ticklish, I’m stuck here and can’t get away and I’m just so easy to tickle and if you don’t tickle me right this moment I’m going to combust just ohmygosh please please tickle me-”

Such paradoxical thoughts - and yet, both are so true.

Yes, it’s really gonna tickle, cutie.

When I’m tickling you in my lap, it’s hard to overstate just how adorable you are. Your laughter, your squirming, your little ‘wait!’s and ‘okay!’s, how genuinely happy you are... In those moments, despite my body already being wrapped around yours, it’s hard not to want to be even closer to you - to feel your laughter right up against me and make you feel even more vulnerable and ticklish and adored than you already are.

This, I’m quite sure, is why you were given such a ticklish neck.

Because, as it turns out, I don’t even have to stop wiggling at your ribs or tracing along your waistline to add a whole new dimension to your ticklishness (and a whole new octave to your laughter). I can just start gently nuzzling into your neck, lightly wisping my beard around every sensitive spot, nibbling and kissing all up and down as you fruitlessly try to scrunch up and hide your sensitive spots from me, stopping only to whisper sweet teases in your ear that themselves tickle just as much.

So what you’re saying is, no matter how you squirm or roll around or curl up, there’s always a new spot I can tickle? You’re really that ticklish?

Well, this sounds like fun, doesn’t it? Squirming and rolling around on the bed, instinctively trying to protect yourself, and still being completely consumed by the tickles? You do look awfully adorable, all smiles and laughter while trying to roll away, only for a new tickle spot of yours to betray you as you melt back into helpless ticklishness.

It's been three minutes since you first saw the text:

"Come upstairs so I can tickle you <3"

I figured it might take you a minute or two to regain your composure and build up enough of a courageous ticklee facade to make your way upstairs. And, just on cue, I hear the door quietly creak open.

“Hi sweetheart,” I say, all smiles as I get up from the bed.

“Hi.” You respond, trying but failing to keep that goofy smile off your face. Your eyes meet mine for only a moment before averting to the floor, a blush now added to your smile. I feel you shiver gently when I put my hands on your hips.

“So,” I begin, “I just want to get this straight. You were downstairs, happily minding your own business. But then, upon seeing my text, you stopped what you were doing and walked into this room, knowing full well how much you’d get tickled when you did.”

You shift side to side as your nervous smile widens, still looking down. No answer.

“You knowingly walked right into the tickle monster’s den,” I tease, gently pulling you in closer, “and into the tickle monster’s arms.”

Still hearing no answer but feeling the heat burning from your face as I move my head closer, I continue, now whispering directly into your ear. “Darling... would you like me to tickle you?”

What an unfair question that we both know you can't answer. But, speechlessly, you press your blushing face firmly into my shoulder, and I feel your head just slightly shake up and down as your arms tighten around me in shyness.

You feel a kiss on the top of your head before you’re gently lifted off the ground, then tossed onto the bed behind you. You seemingly instinctively put your hands behind your head as I crawl atop you.

“Wow, someone just can’t wait to be tickled, hm?” I tease, and in response your outstretched arms pull the pillow from under your head on top of your face so I can’t see your embarrassed blush.

“You can’t hide from me now, silly,” I reply, prompting a stream of giggly whines from underneath the pillow. “That time passed as soon as you adorably tiptoed through this door to get tickled.”

More whines. I continue. “No, the tickle monster’s got you now.” You hear the mischief dripping in my voice as fingers begin to make wispy patterns over your shirt. “And I might just never let you go.”

Suddenly, the gentle traces turn to scribbles and squeezes all up and down your sides and tummy as you burst into pillow-muffled laughter. Those deviously gentle fingers eventually finding their way under your shirt when your laughter doesn’t seem quite ecstatic enough for my (or your) liking.

“Can you believe you asked for this? To be all helpless and ticklish?” You respond simply by pressing the pillow harder onto your face. “It’s all just too cute, I don’t even know what to do with you. Well, except this-”

With that, I pull the pillow from your face prompting a squeak from my beloved ticklee and bury my face in your neck, nibbling and kissing in any ticklish way I can as you squeal with delighted giggles and scrunch up to no avail. All the while, my fingers maintain their scribbly, squeezy mission of filling your tummy with tickly little butterflies while you wiggle helplessly under this unending ticklish onslaught you purposefully walked yourself right into.

Oh gosh - you’re describing one of my favorite things.

I sometimes feel like an unusual ler in that I feel worried when someone begs for the tickling to stop. If it were a big part of the fun for my partner, I could start to enjoy it and play around with that aspect of teasing, but it'd take a lot of time and trust, a very clear safeword that I know they'd use if needed, and a lot of reassurance from them that they're okay. I'm a real softie as a ler - I just want the tickles to make you feel happy and adored.

But, begging for more - hardly anything would make my heart (and fingers) flutter more than knowing that, even while getting tickled to bits, you're still totally delighted by the tickles and never want them to stop. A ticklee asking for tickles is just so enamoring that all I can think about is tickling and teasing more and more to get every single happy giggle out of you. I really do think if you kept asking for more tickles, I'd be too addicted to stop until you were satisfied - it’s just too cute knowing, with full certainty, that you’re enjoying it every bit as much as I am. And after all, if you need tickles that badly, who am I to deprive you of that?

Me after reading your writing: Okay, LOOK-

(-LovingLaughter, sadly a side blog)

Just goes to show - those soft, sweet tickles can entice even the lerrest of switches.

Are you comfy?

You are? Good – then:

I almost don't have any words for this, because you've literally described heaven. Soft, playful, ridiculously sweet back-and-forth tickles with someone I love? I really cannot think of anything I want more in this world. It just sounds so safe and warm, and thanks to you I'll be daydreaming about this for the rest of the night.

You’re right, calves aren’t a spot I've ever really thought or talked about, but I love spots that are so specific to a ticklee. And if a special technique is needed to really elicit the giggles there, all the better. Those little details about a person’s ticklishness lend to such a sweet intimacy. Isn’t it somehow both so flustering and yet so comforting when your tickler knows exactly which spots make you, specifically, feel most happy and ticklish? 

The teases can be so good, too. Just imagine your tickler gently grabbing your leg and slowly lowering their clawing fingers right towards your calf. “Don’t think I forgot about your secret little spot,” they might remark, just before you burst into hysterics.

I'm happy my posts can sneak under that tough outer shell! There's good reason to be tough and stoic and to fiercely stand your ground out in the world sometimes, but one of the things I love about my particular overly fluffy brand of tickling is that it gives you permission to be vulnerable and soft with someone you trust. We all deserve to give and receive a little more gentleness in our lives.

I know, sometimes it's way too embarrassing to just let yourself be tickled. Even just staying still and barely trying to block my tickling fingers is an implicit admission that you love being a helpless, giggly, blushy puddle, and that’s a rather emotionally vulnerable position to put yourself in.

So, when you're feeling too vulnerable to ask but still need your daily dose of tickles, don't worry - we can always come up with a pretense to tickle you.

Perhaps this time I'll insist that January only has 30 days. And when you make fun of me and try to tell me I'm wrong, that's when I'll pin you down, sit on your arms, and dance my fingers on your underarms and all around your ribs and sides until you admit I’m right.

"Look at a calendar, you doofus!" and "how do you not know this??" are just your much less embarrassing ways of telling me you'd still like more tickles, please. You get to pretend I'm the mean, evil villain putting you through this ticklish ordeal without ever having to sheepishly admit how much you love it. And then, whenever you’re satisfied with the tickling you’ve received, you can squeak out, "okay, okay, you're right!"

"No-h-no, it doesn't!' you claim through laughter, presumably induced by how much it tickles. After all, a few light, fluttery fingertips dancing on your ribs and tummy have always tickled you before. But I’ll play along.

"No? I'll have to tickle you more then.”

You punctuate my sentence with a sudden squeak as my feathery touches turn to deeper squeezes and frantic scribbles, sending you into a truly raucous stream of laughter.

"Wai-hait, wait!” you protest, or at least attempt to, through your laughter, "OKAY, okay, it does!!"

"It does what, cutie?'

"it ti-hi-hickles!!" you blurt out as you fruitlessly squirm, never far enough to keep my fingers from squeezing at your sides.

"Aww, I'm glad,” I reply with a gentle smile. “Now, just tell me when it stops tickling again and I'll keep making it tickle more, okay?"

You squeal in flustered, ticklish helplessness - you really thought admitting it might soften the tickles again, but isn’t this more fun? And that request, “tell me when this doesn’t tickle” - how could these fingers endlessly wiggling all across your tummy, sides, under your arms, always changing up their touch to keep you laughing, ever not tickle??

And yet, as your delightful predicament continues, a part of you wants to squeak out, barely audible through your endless stream of laughter, "hey - it doesn't tickle..." just to see what might happen.