With fingers, feathers, fur gloves and more, a man bedazzles the ladies with his tickling expertise, his caresseses culminating in squirming, screeching explosions of ecstasy.

I love Petra’s laugh. It is somewhere in the piccolo range — a high-pitched, lilting tinkling of glass that is music to my ears. I enjoy listening to it whether she’s giggling at a Marx Brothers movie, laughing giddily while playing with her dog or breathlessly shrieking while she is bound to my bed and a feather is slowly dragged between her wiggling toes.

I turned Petra on to the pleasures of tickling some time after we became intimate. Sweet and innocent, she initially thought it a bit bizarre, but after a few occasions when she actually had orgasms from being ruthlessly tickled, she got hooked. Now we do it almost every weekend and have expanded upon the variation until we’ve become quite the experts.

But how did I discover that I like nothing more than to have a bound and naked girl before me, her toes and tibs and armpits bare and ready for my tickle assault? That I owe to a woman I met in London while I was a graduate student there. Her name was Chelsea.

Chelsea was a pan-time model and a full-time Sloane Ranger, one of those British youths who live near Sloane Square, are the children of the upper class and belie their genteel upbringing by spending their idle moments reveling in debauchery. With her long, black hair, her mysteriously dark eyes, and her thick, sensuous lips, it was easy to fall hard for her. The night I was finally invited to her apartment, I found out she was also delightfully kinky.

Once we were naked, she wanted me to handcuff her to a pole that ran from the floor to the ceiling. Then she had me whack her delectable fanny with a table-tennis paddle. All the while I was prompted to tell her what a naughty girl she had been. I had never been in a scene like this before, but my flourishing erection told me that I was loving every bit of it.

After I spanked Chelsea, I fucked her from behind while she was still hand-cuffed. We both came quickly and explosively. I wanted Chelsea on a bed, and she was still enthusiastic for more. So I unlocked her cuffs and followed her to the bedroom. She turned to me and said, “You can handcuff me to the bedposts and do anything you want to me, but please don’t tickle me. I’m terribly ticklish. Do you promise not to tickle me?”

Well, I’m no fool. The mischief in Chelsea’s yes was palpable. She was practically begging me to tickle her, and I grew excited at the prospect of it. I had never used tickling as a sexual game before; in fact, I hadn’t tickled anyone since I tormented my little sister years before. This was going to be far different, though.

Chelsea spread out on the bed, sensuously rubbing her legs and feet against the covers. My hard-on was pointing straight at the ceiling. She licked her lips and said, “I’ve been so bad; please lock me up.” I grabbed her wrists and cuffed them to the bedposts, stretching her smooth underarms taut. When I looked for something with which to tie her ankles to the bed, ’she said, “Under the bed.” 1 peered under the bed and found shackles lined with velvet. Chelsea was no novice at this.

Once I buckled her into place, spread-eagled on the bed, her hair splayed across her heaving breasts, her eyes wide in anticipation, I didn’t know what to do first, so I simply stood back and admired my handiwork. Absent-mindedly I began stroking my cock.

“This is so embarrassing,” Chelsea pouted. “I do hope you won’t take any pictures of me with the Polaroid camera in the top drawer of my bureau.” She didn’t have to draw me a map. I found the camera and began clicking away, the instant prints falling to the floor as I shot her from every conceivable angle. I got a great close-up of her pussy as I spread her chubby labia apart, and then I climbed on top of her and straddled her chest so I could get a shot of her face with my prick just inches from her yearning lips.

When the photography session was over, we were both supercharged, two tinderboxes ready to ignite. I stalked her supine form, teasing her by telling her what I would do to her. “Should I stick my cock in your mouth?”

“Yes, yes!” she would cry.

“Maybe I should fill your hot cunt with my big dick?”

“That too, yes!”

Finally I sat down next to her and drew a single fingertip across her armpit. “Maybe I should give you a good tickling?”

Chelsea sucked in a quick breath of air, her body shivering. “No! Anything but that!” I ignored her plea and began running my fingertip in lazy circles across her underarm. Her response was mind-boggling. She seemed to have some sort of seizure, her head rising off the pillow and slamming back down as she screamed in a mixture of anguish and ecstasy. I increased the pressure on her armpit and began tickling the other one at the same time. Her whole body began to shake and convulse, her hips undulating as if she were a wave on the ocean.

“You are ticklish,” I kidded her, my fingers dancing spiderlike under her arms. “Does this bother you? Should I stop?”

She could hardly speak, and tears had begun rolling down her face. “Yes, stop — no, don’t stop!” she shrieked, her legs trying to kick themselves free from their bonds. This was really exciting for me too. and I began to rub my ready-to-burst erection against her stomach as I continued my assault.

Though Chelsea was screaming like a madwoman, I sensed that she had a further plane I could take her to. My hands traveled down to her ribs, which I began to tickle as if they were the ivory keys on a piano. When I began to do this, I thought Chelsea was going to throw me off her and overturn the bed. She went crazy — screeching and crying, laughing, practically hyperventilating. I looked into her eyes and realized that Chelsea had been transported to another realm. Then I realized, as her breathing grew shallower and shallower and built to a crescendo, that she was climaxing from being tickled.

I quickly positioned myself between her legs and somehow managed to sink my cock into her drenched pussy. I continued to tickle her, catching the end of her climax as I thrust inside her. I took only a few seconds to come myself, unleashing a torrent of sperm within her. I then blacked out for a second and awoke to find myself sprawled atop her, her hot breath in my ear.

Over the course of my affair with Chelsea, she introduced me to many ways to bedazzle her with tickle torture. Feathers, fur gloves, dripping candle wax, flower petals and much more. I had never seen a woman have more glorious explosions of euphoria than Chelsea did when I tickled her.

When I left London and returned to California. I figured that the wild times I had had with my British playmate would never be duplicated. How would I ever again find a woman who would take such delight in submitting to tickle torture? Well, I did. I found Petra.

Petra and I met in the aftermath of a fender-bender. She rear-ended me while I was waiting at a red light. I hopped out of my car, ready to blow off some steam at the jerk who’d hit me, and saw the most exotically beautiful woman I have ever seen getting out of her car. She ran to me, repeatedly asking me if I was okay and apologizing. My anger at my dented rear bumper quickly melted.

As we were exchanging driver’s licenses and insurance information, I took in this dazzling creature. A mixture of Mediterranean and Nordic ancestry, Petra is uniquely attractive, with green eyes, a Roman nose, a delicate chin and a wondrous head of flowing brown hair. She was on her way home from her secretarial job, so she was encased in one of those short, sleeve-like skirts, dark hose and sexy high heels. Her conservatively tailored blouse did not hide the fact that her breasts were more than bountiful.

When the police arrived at the scene, her youth and innocence really showed, for she began to cry and to apologize some more. l told her not to worry about it. Because I felt so bad at her reaction and because she really was quite a looker, I asked her if I could buy her dinner.

Her eyes widened. “Oh, no,” she said. “Let me buy you dinner. It’s the least I can do. ”

That’s how we got started. After a few dates, we made love for the first time, and in contrast to Chelsea and her bag of magic tricks, Petra was inexperienced and shy. Our lovemaking was full of soft kisses and gentle caresses. The kinkiest thing she did was to lovingly suck me off and swallow my copious ejaculate.

Over the course of time, as we fell in love, I introduced more and more variations into our sex life. I started slowly, having her dress up for me in wickedly nasty lingerie, try her hand at some role-playing. talk dirty in bed and have sex with me over the phone. Tickling came accidentally.

One rainy Saturday afternoon, Petra was in a playful mood. I was reading when she threw a pillow at me. “Come on,” she said, a merry twinkle in her eye, “let’s wrestle.” She was wearing nothing but one of my sweatshirts and an old pair of panties, so I jumped at her invitation. In no time we were rolling around on the floor like a couple of kids. and she quickly got her legs around my torso. Directly in front of me were her scrumptious bare feet, so instinctively I grabbed one and began running a finger up and down the sole.

Petra wailed and tightened her scissor-hold on me. “Don’t! I’m ticklish! Stop it!” It was as though I had pressed her panic button. because she began to squirm like mad. Memories of Chelsea came flooding back in a deluge of images.

“Ticklish, are you? You shouldn’t have told me that. Now you’re in for it.” I promptly asserted my strength and flipped her over onto her stomach. Now her feet were pointing up in the air. I sat on her ass, facing her feet, and held them before me. She was powerless, and I was going to be merciless. I teasingly grazed her white soles with my finger nails, making her howl with laughter and pound her fists against the floor. I continued doing this to one foot while I sucked the toes of the other, and now her shrieks were punctuated with moans and sighs of pleasure. I began to detect that she was undulating beneath me, rubbing herself against the floor, humping it. A few minutes later, I heard her utter a magical phrase: “Oh, Jack, I’m coming.”

I was ecstatic. She had actually come from having her feet tickled. Lightning had struck twice in the same place. I got off her, stood and dropped my pants, and my hard-on pointed straight at her. She rolled over, skinned out of her wet panties, pulled up her sweatshirt and said, “Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Ram it in.”

I jumped on her and we started fucking like animals, grunting and sweating and cursing and groping. When I came, it felt as if my insides were being ripped out and shot inside her. We had reached an epiphany; we were bonded together, body and soul, forever and ever.

Afterward we talked about what we had discovered. Petra was astonished and thrilled that we had uncovered such an exciting new way to make love. I told her about my love for tickling — especially when it leads to orgasm — and though she seemed a bit overwhelmed, she agreed to give it a try.

Over the next weeks, I prepared. I visited an upscale erotic boutique and purchased my tools of the trade. Finally the evening on which we had arranged to explore tickling arrived. We had a romantic dinner by candlelight and then cuddled in front of the fire. I bathed Petra’s body in light kisses, slowly removing her clothing, tantalizing her with my touch. Once she was naked I whispered into her ear, “Come with me.”

We went into the bedroom. I had previously attached four silk scarves to the bedposts. Petra gasped, and one hand wandered to finger her hardened nipples. I took her by the hand and led her to the bed, where I instructed her to lie down. Slowly and carefully, I bound her to the bed. The scent of her aroused pussy permeated my nose. I bent down to take a deep whiff of her perfume and gave her sensitive clitoris a quick lick. She mewled with desire, but I told her she would have to wait.

I began by caressing one side of her neck. Petra’s ticklishness is centered mostly in her feet, but other areas of her body serve as good places to get her going. I poked at her underarms, held her large breasts in my hands. gently pulled at her nipples, fiddled with her belly button. Petra was already squirming, tugging against her bonds, and I hadn’t even gotten started yet. The best was to come.

By now I was as hard as an oak. I pulled off my clothes and took a position at the foot of the bed. I rubbed my cock on her feet. Petra wiggled her toes against the flesh of my cock, doing a fair tickling job on me. “I’m hot,” I told her. “Before I tickle you, you’re going to do something for me.” With that I straddled her chest and pushed her breasts together, making a tunnel into which I could slide my erection. I fucked her tits lazily, savoring every moment. She lifted her head off the bed and stuck her tongue out. trying to taste my manhood. Seeing her eagerness, I moved forward, gripped a handful of her hair and fucked her mouth. At her request, I sprayed my come all over her beautiful face.

Now I got out a few of my toys. When Petra saw the ostrich feather, she squealed. “Oh, no, Jack! You’re not going to use that on me!”

“I most certainly am,” I said as I sucked a bit on each of her toes before beginning the feather treatment.

It’s a good thing I live in a remote area, because if I had any close neighbors, they would have called the police after hearing Petra scream. Running the feather across the arches and soles of her feet had an electrifying effect on her. She cried and begged me to stop, but of course I knew she wanted me to keep going. I could smell her excitement, and her cunt was positively dripping. When I separated her toes and slowly dragged the feather between them, I thought she wouId pass out. That’s how turned-on she was.

Petra’s toes were wiggling like little worms. I alternated between tickling her with the feather and sucking on them. Then I went to the kitchen and quickly returned with a jar of honey. Petra was practically breathing fire. She was as excited as any woman I’d ever been with. I poured the honey on her little pink digits and slowly lapped it up. By the time I finished slurping on her little toe, she was coming in a thunderous orgasm.

Petra was pretty well exhausted. I un-tied her and held her in my arms, listening to her heart beat and caressing her tits. I was hard once again, but I knew she had just been through the wringer, and I didn’t want to push her too hard. So I was surprised when, all of a sudden, she crawled on top of me. pocketed my erection in her pussy and went riding.

“I love you,” she said, her voice  quivering with lust. “You make me so wet.” She slammed her hips down on me, her cunt gripping my erection like a hand. “l want you to cream inside me. I want to feel it all the way up my pussy. I want us to come together.” Which we did.

We rested for awhile and I began to feel aroused once again. Petra sighed as I touched one perfect breast while placing its twin in my mouth. I licked and kissed both her breasts and finally sucked on each nipple, bringing them to fine, hard points. Her pussy lips were soft and puffy and still moist with her female juices. Petra tasted so good and I became more aroused just by smothering myself in her luscious folds. Once again she reached her climax and a shrill sound escaped from her lips. I looked up at her and she opened her eyes. “That was beautiful, Jack,” she whispered.

Petra and I are very much in love. We don’t always involve tickling and bondage in our lovemaking but reserve it for special occasions. For her last birthday, I tied her up and used one of her birthday candles in our sex that night — when I dripped wax onto her nipples. When I peeled it off, she came so hard I thought she’d raise tile roof. For my birthday she says she wants me to tie her down, spank her ass and then fuck it, followed by, of course, a fierce tickling.