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Friendly Tickle by Jen Jones
The wondrous sounds of Britney Spears came tinkling from out of the
bathroom. Unfortunately, they were sung by someone for whom terms like
pitch and volume were best ignored. Tracy gritted her teeth and rolled out
of bed. She'd been living with Samantha for over a month and the morning
sing-along to the last tune her flatmate had heard on the radio was just one
of many bad habits Sam inflicted on her friend.
The two girls had been best mates since meeting at Newcastle University in
the first week of their first year. Despite being from different
backgrounds they'd quickly become firm friends. Tracy was a Northern lass
who worked a rubbish job three nights a week to pay her way through uni.
Sam was a Southerner, given to spending more, of her generous allowance, on
shoes every other week than Tracy could afford in a month! Still, they both
shared a love of their subject, history of art, and both saw in the other
many things they liked a lot.
Tracy was fairly short, buxom and dark skinned. Sam was tall and thin,
though her breasts were more than large enough for her narrow shoulders.
Tracy had brown eyes and dark hair, Sam was blue eyed and blond. The
Northerner was from a family who'd immigrated into Britain when she'd been a
little girl. Samantha's ancestors had been propping up London's property
market for six generations.
However, despite all their differences, they thrived as friends and both
girls' parents thought the world of them. Each girl wished she had many of
the other's qualities. Sam coveted Tracy's wonderful skin, her eyes like
deep pools, her attention to detail and her ability to meet any deadline.
Tracy so wanted to be tall and graceful like her friend, have long blonde
hair and eyes like sapphires, boyfriends with country estates and the
ability to talk her way out of any trouble that came her way.
Unfortunately, living in a flat had put something of a strain on their
relationship... The first year of uni had been spent in halls of residence:
large, single person rooms with en suite shower, washbasin and cleaner who
came in twice a week. It was rather like a mediocre hotel, with the added
bonus that each building had between one hundred and fifteen hundred first
year students of all shapes and sizes who just wanted to party. It had been
fun.
Sadly for most of the first years, moving into a flat had not been fun. It
had been one disaster after another. Students at Newcastle University were
plagued by letting agencies offering 'the best' deals on 'wonderful' flats.
With little to no prior experience of renting and parents in far away cities
who were expecting them to 'just get on with their lives,' many people moved
into flats that were too small, too expensive and lacking in just about
every convenience most of the students were used to.
Samantha had been lucky. Upon deciding to move into a two person flat with
Tracy midway through their first year, Sam had left just about every
decision to her friend. Poor Tracy worked like a galley slave to find them
a good place, doing everything right: starting early, using solicitors and
talking to former students. She'd finally secured them a year's contract at
a good price on an excellent, recently refurbished property in the trendy
district of Jesmond, where most of the students ended up.
Sadly, Sam had not been particularly grateful. She found fault with
everything: the hot water that failed to come on upon demand, the central
heating which Tracy insisted they didn't use all the time, the shower that
was too weak and bills that seemed to arrive every week were all major
problems for the somewhat pampered West Londoner. But it was the lack of a
cleaning lady that most negatively affected their relationship.
During her upbringing Sam hadn't really been expected to do anything. Her
mother, a house wife, had a nanny to help out and between them they made
sure that all the house work and cleaning was done to a professional level.
Unfortunately this meant that Sam didn't know how to do her own laundry, her
own ironing, wash her own plates, clean her own room or pick up after her
own mess. Tracy, who'd been brought up in a much poorer house with two
working parents and three younger brothers, knew exactly how important it
was to do all these things and, within days, found herself doing them for
Sam.
Something had to give. By the end of the first month, Tracy was seriously
beginning to doubt whether she could live with Sam for any longer. Her
flatmate's incompetence and selfishness were just so unbearable and, as she
got up that Saturday morning, she was in the mood for a fight. It would
have surprised her hugely to learn that Samantha felt the same way.
'How could Tracy be so inconsiderate?' was the Londoner's exact thought at
that particular moment. Sam was looking at her twenty pounds a bottle,
exclusively imported, South American shampoo which her so called 'friend'
had all but finished. Didn't Tracy know how expensive that stuff was? And
Tracy always ate Sam's food, always borrowed her stuff without asking,
always criticised Sam for little things like turning on the heating when it
was absolutely freezing! How was Sam supposed to live like that?
Emerging from her bedroom Tracy saw the blurred outline of her friend in
the frosted glass of the bathroom door. Muttering to herself about the
amount of time Sam spent showering Tracy made her way to the kitchen where
she discovered... it. It was the remnants of two meals: Samantha's supper
and Samantha's breakfast.
The first had been the student favourite: baked beans on toast, but the
waif like Southerner hadn't even finished! The leftovers were now stuck
like glue to the plate. Tracy went so far as to hold the offending item
upside down. Nothing fell off. However, dried on bake beans are as nothing
compared to the devilish mixture that is milk and Weetabix... If dried
baked beans were the equivalent of glue, that extraordinary combination was
the welding of the washing up world. It would take ten minutes heavy
scrubbing to remove. It was too much for Tracy. Something had to be done,
and now.
Turning out of the kitchen, she made for the bathroom where the strains of
Britney's latest opus had died away. Samantha emerged from the room as
unaware of her friend's ire as Tracy was of hers. The Southerner didn't
notice her Northern flatmate as she left the bathroom else she would've
given her a piece of her mind. Instead she pulled the towel drying her hair
up onto her head with her hands. A truly fiendish thought invaded Tracy's
mind as she saw her friend's arms rise to her head. 'That would teach her!'
thought the Northerner. She took a quick step forwards and stuck her
fingers into the soft, hairless armpits of the blond.
"AAAGGGH!" yelled Samantha, surprised as all hell. She tried to whip round
but her attacker held her still. Tracy, realising her friend was very
ticklish, flexed her fingers once more.
"No!" cried Sam, wriggling in her towel, "Hee hee heeeee... no! No! Stop
eeeeeeeetttt!" The attractive blonde could do nothing in the face of the
mischievous digits digging into the undersides of her arms. She was dressed
only in a towel around her torso and one on her head... there was nothing
she could do without exposing herself! Who was doing this to her? Tracy,
increasingly enjoying the feeling of power the tickling granted her, allowed
her hands to run down Samantha's sides.
"AAAGGGHHH!" cried her friend, "Stop eeet! Hah hah had! Stop eeeet
pleaseee!" Desperately trying to preserve her modesty, Sam couldn't move
around to stop the horrible torture. She'd always been very ticklish and
found the sensation of being tickled, of losing control, absolutely awful.
This was torture! For Tracy, on the other hand, it was wonderful. She
pulled Samantha back against her and ran her hands up and down the length of
the blonde's ribs, loving the feeling of the taller girl squirming under her
fingers!
"HAH HAH Haaaaaaah!" screamed the Londoner, her composure melting in the
face of her attacker's assault. Tracy tickled her friend through her towel,
momentarily considering ripping it off to better access her victim, but she
decided against it, instead leaning down low and running her fingernails
along the back of Samantha's thighs. Understandably, the response was
immediate.
"OOOOoooaaaahhhahahaa!" cried the girl, "Hah, hah, hah, haaaaaaaah!"
Samantha could barely muster the air to cry out! She writhed against the
horrendous assault of Tracy's fingers on the highly sensitive area below her
ass and laughed hysterically. Now the Northerner sort to find new spots to
attack! She leant forwards, pushing between Sam's arm and her side so that
she could get to her victim's knees. The Southerner saw her flatmate's head
and realised it was Tracy tickling her! Sadly, that revelation was made at
the same time as Tracy grasped the area just above Sam's knees and squeezed.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" laughed Samantha, "AAAAAAAAGGGHH!" she yelled, barely
below a scream. Tracy slowed her assault to allow her victim to breathe.
"Tray... Tracy...! Why are you doing this?" Leaning close to her friend's
ear, the Northerner spoke in a dark, sultry, hot tone.
"This is to teach you to clean up, Sam. But the lesson is not complete..."
While Samantha had been recovering, Tracy had leant towards her other side
and grabbed at the hairbrush Sam always left lying in the lounge area where
all the rooms adjoined. There was only one place the tickling Northerner
wished to use that weapon... Samantha was still trying to preserve her
modesty which was why she didn't try and run away when the tickling stopped
momentarily... that and her mind was still recovering from the shock. So
when she felt the towel on her head slip slightly, she instinctively moved
both hands up to stop it. Tracy grabbed both of Samantha's weakened hands
in one of hers.
"What are you doing?" asked Sam, suddenly panicked. Tracy leant close once
more, maintaining her grip and speaking in the slow, dark tone she was
affecting for the battle... the one that seemed to fit her character as the
avenging tickler!
"You always leave this hairbrush lying around here. Now I'm going to teach
you never to do it again!"
"No, Trace! No!" yelled Sam, struggling in vain against her attacker's
hold and fearful of being spanked! The alternative proved much worse...
Tracy took the brush and swept it against her flatmate's vulnerable armpit.
"HAH, heAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHH!" cried Sam. "NOOOOoooooaaah! Tracy!
Pleaseeeeeee hee hee hee haaaaa!" The firm bristles of the brush flicked
against the soft skin of Samantha's underarm and caused a predictable
response. However, with one hand used, Tracy thought that Sam was getting
away with not being totally tickled! She leant in as close as possible,
feeling her breasts rub against Sam's back as she reached around her
victim's front. Now the hairbrush was poised against Samantha's other
armpit.
"What are you doing?" yelled the Londoner, "What are yuoooooaaahhhh! HAH
HAH HAAAAAAHHHHHhhh!" Tracy, satisfied she could reach, started tickling
the other armpit with the brush. Sam laughed hysterically once more but now
came Tracy's second part of the manoeuvre... She pushed her face into the
smooth skin of Sam's right arm and stuck out her tongue against the soft,
silky, ticklish area. Her flatmate went super sonic, losing her voice and
all ability to stand at that exact moment. The feeling of the rough brush
and soft tongue in each of her armpits was just too much!
Samantha all but collapsed into Tracy, who carefully guided her flatmate
over to the sofa the landlord had provided. Thinking it was all over, Sam
collapsed onto it, still giggling maniacally but little realising things
were just starting to heat up. Tracy felt very strange. She'd never been
turned on by a woman before and, in her head, she was really angry with
Sam... But in her heart the girl would always be her friend and, more
importantly, in her breasts and pussy feelings were springing up that needed
assuaging. She dropped to the floor and took one of Samantha's feet,
stretching her leg out to its full length.
"No!" the cry was heartfelt and long, but Sam had little strength left to
buck against Tracy. The Northerner took her friend's foot and, with a
devilish smile, traced her fingernails along the inside.
"AAAAAAGGGGHHH!" cried Samantha, tears in her eyes. Her attacker paused a
moment and slowly transferred the hairbrush from one hand to the next.
Sam's eyes followed the movement, but she was too exhausted to do anything
but weakly beg her friend to stop. Tracy listened to the girl's entreaties
and put a look on her face of mock thoughtfulness.
"Do you promise to clean up after yourself for ever and ever?" she asked.
Sam, tears in her eyes, could only nod. Tracy slowly raised one of her
friend's feet.
"I'd just like to make sure," she said and ran the stiff bristles against
the soft white flesh of the soul of Sam's foot. The blonde squealed and
screamed but to no avail. She had desperately little energy and was using
all of it to try and breathe! Every time she thought she'd got on top of
the tickling, her attacker would move the brush to the other foot.
Eventually, as even those sensitive areas got tickled out, the Northerner
moved further up.
Tracy felt the fire fill her entirely. Having such power over her friend
was such a turn on that she couldn't stop herself from continuing. Her
fingers moved up Sam's legs, bringing out a mixture of laughs and giggles,
squirms and shudders. Tracy tickled all the way up the front of Sam's legs
and then suddenly pulled up the blonde's feet. Poor Samantha anticipated
having them being tickled again but the area Tracy attacked was the
underside of her thighs, just below her ass!
It was... heavenly! Feeling Tracy's manicured fingernails running up and
down the sensitive area within a few inches of her clit really stimulated
Samantha in a way far different to awful sensation of the tickling. She
still laughed... her body was so sensitive by that stage that the feeling of
Tracy's breath was ticklish! But now it was so good! God she hoped Tracy
didn't realise...
Her friend didn't realise... but mainly because she was trying so hard to
control her own arousal! The nipples of her large breasts were poking a
hole in her nightwear T-shirt while her panties were soaked through with
love juices and perspiration! How was she going to break away from Sam and
give in to the desire to orgasm that was threatening to over power her?
Tracy leant back a moment, stopping the tickling, allowing one of her hands
to drop to her panties for a moment.
Sam, who'd been laughing hard, was gutted! Without realising it, she
ground her ass against the sofa, trying to feel the same stimulation once
more. This Tracy did notice. Was her friend as turned on as she was? The
Northerner decided to find out. She leant back and took one of Samantha's
oh so sensitive feet in her hands. Sam noticed and was worried that the
more torturous tickling was about to recommence.
"Nuh, no... Tracy, please no...! I'll be good! I promise!" But Tracy was
no longer thinking of mundane things like cleaning up... she hadn't got laid
for a few months and now she was focussed on breaking that run. Sam had no
resistance. Her energy was all but spent and she was feeling so very
strange... The sensation of having Tracy tickle her all over was torturous,
but the other emotions bubbling through were so good...! Not least the
feeling of having her gorgeous, petite flatmate's breasts rubbing against
her back at the beginning... or her fingers tickling her ass... or ... At
that moment all thought stopped for Samantha... At that moment, Tracy
licked the soul of Sam's foot...
"Huhhhhaaaahahah!" giggled the Londoner, barely able to laugh any more.
She tried to kick, to bring her leg back, but the stronger Northern girl
wouldn't let her foot move! Instead, she touched it all over, kissing and
licking the soft areas which were so well maintained by their monthly
pedicure. To Tracy it was like sucking sweet ambrosia. All she wanted was
to make love to Sam, but Sam wasn't a lesbian, was she?
Samantha wasn't a lesbian, that was true, but the feelings running around
her body weren't reminding her of that. Before she knew it, her hands were
pulling open her sodden towel and revealing her breasts and pussy...
touching herself and moaning. The Northerner needed no further
encouragement. She kissed and stroked her way up Samantha's leg, arousing
further giggles though far more moans. Licking the Londoner's inner thigh
with her tongue, Tracy felt her own orgasm scream for release. She went
past Sam's pussy and leaned over the other girl, pulling off her T-shirt and
revealing her large breasts, the nipples of which were as hard as Sam's.
The Londoner looked up at her friend, the rhapsody of sexual gratification
on her face.
"Make love to me Tracy," she whispered... and the Northerner agreed,
pushing her face down hard against her friend's. They kissed, long and
hard, the two girls exploring each other's mouths for the first time.
Breaking away, Tracy slowly spidered her hands down Samantha's side, her
fingers walking down the blonde's body and touching every hyper-stimulated
area. When her fingers reached the Southerner's pussy, the feeling of bliss
was absolute on Sam's face. The multiple orgasms racked through body one
after the other and she returned the favour to Tracy, sucking the other
girl's nipples while her own fingers eagerly entered the Northerner's most
tender areas. They soon fell asleep in each other's arms on the sofa.
When she awoke, Tracy realised three things: she was naked, she was tied to
Sam's bed and Sam herself was standing in front of her, also naked, her
hands behind her back and with an euphoric smile on her face. Seeing the
questioning look on Tracy's face, Sam's smile became fiendish. Slowly, her
arms came forwards, bringing with them two foot long feathers. Tracy's eyes
bulged.
"No, Samantha! Come on! Please!" Sam slowly walked forwards and placed
both the feathers near Tracy's armpits.
"Revenge is a dish best served hot!" she exclaimed and dug the feathers in.
Having worked out their differences, and missing lectures for a week,
Samantha and Tracy became more than just friends. Although neither referred
to themselves as lesbians and both soon found boyfriends, nonetheless they
regularly found time for a 'girls' night in...' say three or four times a
week! Sam quickly learnt all the skills she needed to live more cleanly and
Tracy learnt how to be a bit more patient with her friend and other people
in general. They both learnt exactly how to tickle each other to orgasm and
went on to get excellent degrees and move in together down in London...
where they encountered some other girls, from Edinburgh, who also knew a
thing or two about tickling...
THE END
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