You can call me Shane, and while this page is completely empty right now I’m not at all new here! I’ve had this blog for years but it has existed in many different ways and been inactive for long periods of time on and off, though I’ve always lurked a lot so you might have seen me in your likes.
I’m 24 and this is a kink blog- minors & ageless blogs DNI. I don’t know yet exactly how I plan for this blog to look these days but we’ll see.
I am happily engaged and monogamous- always open to making friends, but relevant as this is a kink blog, not looking for anything more than that.
I’ll probably/hopefully update this in the future but it’ll do for now 😁
A girl who tickles your pussy and then eats you out and then tickles your pussy and then eats you out and then tickles your pussy and then eats you out and the longer it goes on the more ticklish you get and the harder you cum 😵💫
i don’t want just clit tickling. i want more than that, a whole dissection made for breaking me apart.
it should start with tying me up — topless but high waisted underwear on, the kind that cover up to the belly button. i’ll already be hard by the time i’m restrained, the process always turns me on. spread eagle especially, forcing my legs open.
i might squirm a bit to check my bonds as fingers trail their way down my arms, hovering at the underarms just to scare me into thinking they might really dig in there. relieved when they retreat instead to trail down my thighs and knees in the same way, teasing at the ankles before letting up.
it’ll be enough to make me dizzy, those soft touches, even if they haven’t pulled a laugh out. those, i will still stifle stubbornly.
maybe hands play with my chest a bit, rubbing my nipples into peaks and softly tickling at the underboob before groping me with two hands — squeezing. a reminder that i can’t control what happens to me as i lay there vulnerable.
but, again, the hands retreat, this time down to my stomach.
something of note about my stomach: it is ridiculously sensitive, both ticklish and erogenous. first, it will be rubbed from my ribs down to my hips. over and over before fingers come into play, gently spidering to find my most sensitive spots.
i’ll start wiggling at that, maybe unable to hold back squeaks and quick giggles especially when they drag on my most tender rib, play over my belly button, or graze the crease at my hips.
it’ll prove especially too much when my underwear is pulled down right to the start of my bush and the tickles on bare exposed skin intensify.
i’ll probably be full out laughing by then, gasping when the delicate erotic point of my waist is touched, trying valiantly to fight off the sensations of not just ticklishness but arousal.
but then, oh god, it gets worse. the drumming begins, digging deeper and deeper into my skin and the squeezes and the vibrating until all i can do is howl with laughter and try desperately to ignore how wet i’m becoming, how hard my clit is starting to throb, how when i buck in the air, i get a brief rub of friction that makes me bite back a moan.
i’ll become so far gone i might be screaming and then — it all stops. i’m left gasping for breath and maybe a bit disappointed that it’s over — not that i’d say that out loud. no, i’d still be trying to pretend as if all of this had no effect on me.
of course, that would be when i feel fingers trace my wet cunt through my underwear. there is no hiding my arousal anymore, but they don’t linger long, going up all the way to my mound and pelvic bone and beginning to tickle there.
the unique feeling of having my pelvis tickled, a spot often neglected to get to what’s right underneath it, will send me into a fit of confused giggles. i’ve never been tickled before, don’t expect to find it so overwhelmingly sensitive, especially when the fingers stray a bit further down to play with the very top of my pussy.
they keep migrating down, nails tickling me through my underwear, and embarrassed laughter claws its way out of my throat, humiliated to find out how ticklish my pussy is, even covered. how i can’t even get off like this, can only laugh and bounce and get impossibly harder and wetter.
the tickling gets every inch of my pussy — my lips, my hole, and, of course, my clit. when my laughter starts waning a bit, one hand starts going for my thighs instead while the other continues focusing on my pussy.
i face a new dilemma as the thigh tickling makes me buck my hips into the fingers that scribble at my cunt, the tickling accidentally interrupting itself with quick, firm brushes against me that make me moan.
my thighs tickle too bad to get me anywhere but more frustrated, though, and my laughter increases as they’re squeezed and dug into. and then suddenly — my underwear is shoved down my legs and i’m completely exposed.
hands start tickling in earnest, going back up to my belly and around to my pelvis and down to my thighs, the intense kind that could leave me shrieking as spot after spot is targeted.
my pussy is avoided. and i hump in the air a bit desperately for any kind of touch. sometimes, there’s an accidental brush, but nothing lasting, nothing to satisfy me. all i can do is laugh and fight against the restraints that won’t let me go, squirming in the wet spot i’ve left under me.
but, eventually, the tickling stops again. there is finality in the break of sensation and i shiver in preparation of what i’m sure is bound to come.
finally, a hand spreads my lips apart and a gentle, soft brush paints over my pussy. it gets wet immediately, painting my juices all over me. it reaches the hood of my clit but doesn’t go under it, the pressure enough to make me twitch regardless.
it tickles a bit, but more than that, it feels good, spilling moans and whines out of me. i’ve been hard for long enough that all it takes is a firm clit rub for me to reach orgasm. the brush doesn’t stop all the way through it and continues afterwards, teasing another one out of me and then another.
i am ready for a break, but not granted one. instead, my hood is finally properly pulled back and my dick is brushed over and over as i whine and try to back away from it. it doesn’t falter despite my protests, and i find myself orgasming yet again through the soft clit tickles, insistent, nonstop.
the brush drags a few more orgasms out of my clit and then draws back to my lips and my hole, almost fucking inside me, but not enough. nails skitter around my pelvis and thighs and lower belly again while the brush doesn’t stop tickling my pussy and it all may be so sensitive post-orgasm that i might begin to cry. maybe.
the difference between a kink and a fetish is that kinks are fun and cool and they can spice up the bedroom a little bit and a fetish is a curse that makes you feel like you're missing the part of you that makes you a real person
craaaaaving that feeling when you’re getting tickled and it’s like giggly and fun but then they get to a spot that makes you fucking panic and freak out and scream but they don’t stop and it’s just like holy fuck i can’t take it please
Shane or something @eagerleebutch - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
