I’ve always had a burning desire to tickle a girl. I have no idea where it comes from, but from the time I started masturbating I fantasized about bondage tickling. My orgasms were always best when I imagined having a girl alone, in a cave or in the woods, tied spread-eagled on the ground or otherwise restrained, with me tormenting her with soft, delicate tickling, the kind that is right on the borderline of being tolerable.

I always imagined my “victim” liking it, wanting me to do this to her, and that whenever I stopped she would beg for more. Every gal in my neighborhood passed through my fantasy, ending up tied to my bed and screaming in helpless laughter as I tickled the mysterious place between her legs.

How dearly I remember my first date with Iris, who turned out to be my fantasy girl come true. We were sitting on the couch in my apartment, and for quite a while I concentrated on kissing Iris, drinking in her passion. Finally, with her arms locked around my neck, I decided it was time to experiment. I began running my fingertips lightly along her sides, desperately curious to find out how ticklish she was, and how she’d react. At first she moaned, and then she quivered a little. “Mmmm, yes,” she murmured. “I like that.”

I felt giddy. I nearly blurted out, “Really?” but managed to stifle it. I guess I was trying to act like I did this sort of thing all the time. I kept tickling Iris like that, and her head fell back, her face contorting in an expression of agony. With her hands still locked together behind my neck, she started to shudder. I stopped instinctively, but as soon as I did, she lurched forward, kissing me like a wild thing. And she whispered passionately in my ear, “More. Please! Don’t stop.”

I went back to stroking her ribs and then, my confidence rising, I made a move for her breasts. To my complete amazement, Iris wasn’t wearing a bra, and I could feel the hardness of her nipples through her silky nylon jersey. She really went crazy as my finger swept lightly from the base of her breast up to the tip. Each time I got to a nipple she’d twist and buck and shriek with uncontrolled laughter. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against my chest and cutting off any more action.

I wanted to tie her up somehow but I didn’t have anything to use, and didn’t want to even suggest it lest she decide it was time to stop. Again Iris came to my rescue. She asked me to wait, then rummaged around in her purse and pulled out a silk scarf. “I love what you’re doing,” she said, “and I hope you don’t think this is weird, but could you use this to tie my hands behind my back?” Eureka!

With a silly grin on my face, I set to work binding her wrists together. For the next half hour I tickled her in every way I had ever dreamed of. I started with her ribs and breasts, and then moved down to her thighs. She even let me tickle her cunt. She was wearing the sexiest panties I had ever seen, or felt. I think they were satin, without the dreaded cotton lining. Iris went berserk when I tickled her pussy, shaking violently and laughing hysterically. The poor thing kept clenching her thighs together, trapping my hand in a death grip, and then spreading her legs open for more. I finally solved that problem by twisting around slightly and placing my legs inside of hers, pinning them open.

I started using my other hand to tickle her breasts some more. I quickly discovered that she reacted most violently when I tickled her nipples and her cunt at the same time. I really wanted to see if I could make her come that way, but as the minutes dragged on I began to worry that she might start to feel like she was being tortured. On the other hand, her moans told me that she approved.

I kept up the pussy — and nipple — tickling until Iris finally shook in a series of intense convulsions. She had come! I slipped my hand inside her panties. She moaned softly, urging me to stop, but I thought she might have a little more left in her. I stirred my finger in her cunt juice, then sought out her love button. Iris moaned, then screamed, then went crazy again, heaving against me with seizure like intensity. And then she went limp as a rag doll. I pulled her close, and as I was untying her wrists, she murmured something about how fantastic it had been.

After dinner, Iris made it clear that it was my turn. She used her scar! to tie my wrists behind my back, slipped off her skirt, and then spent an eternity teasing my cock. The sensation was mind-boggling! She tickled my balls. She tickled the tip of my cock. Even the feel of her fingernails raking up and down and back and forth between my legs was exciting.

Iris finally went down on me, and I discovered that having my wrists tied behind my back made everything feel much more intense. Oral sex was nothing new to me, but this time I came like never before.

That was the start of a relationship that has lasted to this day. Iris and I continue to practice our unusual kind of foreplay. We haunt the thrift shops in search of things we can use to enhance our tickling. We have pleated skirts and dresses made of satin, chiffon, nylon, acetate and rayon, as well as several evening gowns made of nylon. We’ve learned a lot more about erotic tickling and have added a few good sex toys to our collection, including a nice collection of feathers. And Iris still goes berserk when I tickle her to orgasm.