This is the first time I have heard of the term ‘slap and tickle’ and I had to do some research on what it was. I learned the term ‘slap and tickle’ is mainly used in British English, and it’s a euphemism which means mild sexual activity. You see, you are never to old to learn.
But then I came to the next problem… what to write about ‘slap and tickle’?
With this going around in my mind, Master T and I went off on, what has become normal for us in this Covid times, our Saturday outing to the shopping center. We always stop either at the butcher for fresh meat, or at the fish monger for some fresh fish. Mostly our second stop is at the liquor store for some drinks. With the lock-down, and not a chance to go out for lunch or dinner, we tend to make our weekends as enjoyable as possible with good food and a drink.
So, while thinking on what to write about ‘slap and tickle’, I parked the car, we donned our masks, got out of the car and entered the shopping center. Beforehand we had decided to only go to the fish monger and the liquor store. Standing at the fish monger, waiting for them to prepare our order, I leaned closer to Master T and whispered: “I’m wearing stockings.”
His voice conveyed his question, and his eyes sparked with interest.
“Yes, I talked to my beautician and she said she wears only holdups, no tights. Apparently you eventually get used to wearing them, and stop worrying that they will slip.”
“So I think I will wear them more from now on.”
“Sounds good,” was all Master T had time to say before he was asked to pay and handed our order. We continued our way to the liquor store, and then returned home.
I had just hung my coat up and walked back to the kitchen, where Master T had already started unpacking the bags. As I rounded the corner, he was in the door opening. I put my hands on his hips and tickled him a bit. He reacted totally different from what I expected, with a satisfied grunt. I ran my hand over his back, and he leaned into it.
Then he reached back…
His touched me between my legs, his fingers softly tickling me, igniting everything that was not on fire just yet. This was not the only time he did it. Minutes later his hand was between my legs again, just caressing me, promise in his fingers.
The rest of the day my wetness was pooling between my legs, and he made sure the lingering excitement stayed. His hand disappeared inside my dress when he passed behind me, or he pulled me closer to kiss me. I promised to keep my stockings on when we went to bed.
By the time that happened, after having some more slap and tickle during the course of the evening, I was more than ready for his fingers to go much further than only softly touching me…
© Rebel’s Notes