With a crack of my knuckles, I take the back of my hands, and gently caress the softness of your skin reaching down to your exposed underarms, the blush on your face warming your face as I feel the heat radiating off of your plush cheeks. Assuring your readiness, I take note of just how helpless you are, going so far as to express it to you, verbally. Your wrists tightly bound above your head, perfectly opening your pits with no way to pull your arms down, no way to defend against what’s to come. There I lay upon your waist, arched down to meet your gaze up close. The unmistakable smile showing every emotion, every thought running furiously through your mind. I can feel the racing of your heartbeat as I begin, your gentle twitches as my nails at last make contact. The biting of your lip as you try in vain to keep your giggles from escaping the comfort of your lips. With each gentle stroke, each teasing scribble, your smile widens, and it becomes harder to hold it in. Your teeth gritted, and glowing a pearly white. I follow your face around as you try to look away, avoiding eye contact as if doing so may somehow aid you in your struggles, but your expression has already told me everything. Seconds that feel like hours pass, and the softness of your skin coupled with my the gradual speed increase of finger scribbling slowly and surely begin to take their toll. Minutes continue to drag, and at last the giggles erupt, much to my enjoyment. Unfortunately, with my hands on both sides, no matter where you try to turn, to squirm, to wriggle away, the deep crevices of your pits are always met with the teasy fingers that await them. The redder your face becomes, the more the gentle tickles seem to affect you. Each stroke of the finger causing a squeak, and a twitch to one side, and is met with fingers on the other side. As the tickles continue, however.... I notice that although you wriggle and squirm, you aren’t desperate to try and escape. In fact, your mannerisms seem to tell me that you are actually moving into the tickles...on purpose. It’s as if you’re asking to be driven to laughter. I notice that you’re experiencing a genuine enjoyment. The more my fingers wiggle deeper into your pits, the more your laughter intensifies, the more you’re slowly giving yourself over to the sensations, to your desires. If your armpits can elicit such reactions, I feel goosebumps shiver up my spine as I imagine what your other tickle spots may do.
