Strip Tickle

By Jason Pinaster

Alice and I were tickling each other. Actually, we were strip tickling each other. Every time one of us flinched, off would come a piece of her clothing. The first one nude would get strapped down on the massage table and then be tickled by the winner, tickled without mercy.

The rules had sounded simple. At least they had sounded simple until I’d seen the evil look in Alice’s eyes. Alice still had her bra and panties on. Me, I was topless, down to just my panties.

And Alice was behind me, her fingers readying to attack my most ticklish spot!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason Pinaster
• Release date: Dec 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005404895

Jason Pinaster

If you would like to be on my mailing list, please click on the box at the very bottom of the column under my photo. You will receive prompt notification of my new publications and special offers.I have heard say that the first obligation of a writer is to entertain. If so, the first obligation of a writer of erotica is to arouse and I hope you feel that I have succeeded.I believe that story sets the scene. A story lets the reader start to care for the characters in it. And if the reader cares about the characters, it is easier for him or her to identify with their arousal, to let that arousal tingle the reader’s own skin.Christopher Carter is a lawyer who’s into BDSM and other hijinks, most of them sexual. His stories feature a little fun, lots of sex, a little adventure, and Carter's special brand of justice. Lusty Lee was a private investigator whose nemesis forced her to pursue him through a new kink in each episode. The Mistress Megan stories take her through her development as a dominatrix during which she must satisfy their every fetish.While my current focus is on stories featuring (in order of frequency) erotic combat, wet and messy, action-adventure and tickling, I’m open to anything which turns me (and hopefully you) on. I dabble in sex games and BDSM. I have published two novellas set in Hedonism II, the notorious Jamaican resort and even one featuring a sentient sex robot.At present, I’m developing a Patreon page showcasing erotic combat vignettes: www.patreon.com/JasonPinasterPlease feel free to contact me at [e-mail] And don’t forget to click on the box at the very bottom of the column under my photo. Cheers!

Book preview

Strip Tickle © 2020 Jason Pinaster

Jason Pinaster has published numerous other stories, most notably the Christopher Carter Series and the Lusty Lee Logs. For a full list of his stories, please see his author profile or the notes at the back of this story.

Copyright Notice: Copyright by Jason Pinaster 2020; all rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction; the characters are not you.

Cover Notes and Credits

Back Notes: About Jason Pinaster, other books and stories by the author.

Previous Jason Pinaster stories featuring tickling:

Tickle Test

Pay Back

Tickled Back

Cosplay Clue

Bondage, Lusty Lee Log 27

Third Degree Tickle

By, Bi, Bye

And Her Soles Will Howl

Strip Tickle

I’m blonde. Which is fine. I’m skinny. Which is fine. I hardly have any boobs. Which is not fine. Yet, such is life. My name is Opal but I’m nothing like the multi-colored jewel. I’m ordinary and I guess I’ll just have to live with that. If you’re nice about it, you can call me Opie, but please don’t ever call me Op.

Alice, on the other hand, is as exotic as her long brunette hair. She’s even skinnier than I am, but her breasts are full and round. She likes to wear kinky stuff, like a leather collar with a chrome eyelet. And her earrings are a black disk inside her earlobe. Her hair is beautiful, just enough of a curl to give it full body.

Alice sometimes liked to be called ‘Al’. Did that make her a lesbian? As usual, she was wearing glasses, but on her they looked cool. I sometimes found her sexy but, since Jake and I were now living together, I knew that that did not make me a lesbo.

Alice and I were in the middle of a strip tickle, sort of a preliminary bout. Every time one of us groaned or shouted or screamed, or even yelped, we had to remove a piece of clothing. Or if we lowered our arms. Or if we flinched in any way. The first person to lose all her clothing would be strapped to the table and tickled by the other.

The strip tickle had started with us fully clothed: me in a long multi-colored summer skirt, Alice in blue jeans. Our tops were short; both exposed our bellies. Mine was turquoise lace; Alice’s was grey, a T-shirt with its bottom cut off.

We began with Rock/Paper/Scissors. Three pumps, choose on the third pump, said Alice.

We closed our fists then pumped one, two, three. I kept my fist closed. I’m a rock, I said.

Alice’s palm was flat. Paper, she gloated, smothers rock. I get to tickle first.

Alice kneeled behind me. She started with my ribs which weren’t my most ticklish spot. So I shut my eyes and let my mind wander to Jake, my boyfriend, the last time we’d made love. I was on top, breathing his manly musk deep into my nostrils. Muscled arms gently hugged me; large hands lightly caressed my skin. Being on top let me float with only one part of my anatomy anchoring me to earth. One part of Jake’s anatomy! I had kissed him, then pushed myself skyward. Jake nuzzled my ribs to guide me between the clouds, first right, then left, then— And right then I’d climaxed, spasms rocketing up and down every muscle in my body. He’d made me squeal, it had been so delicious.

I squealed, this time not in my imagination. My eyes flashed open. Alice’s fingers were in the exact same spot Jake had touched and she was smiling from ear to ear. You screamed, she said. I looked over to Charlie, the cameraman, who nodded. I reached under my top to unclasp my bra. Charlie watched