“Oh, come on, give it a try”. Ken begged Michelle,
but Michelle was vehement.

Ken had been on all of three dates with Michelle, a
shockingly attractive 19 year-old college student.
Ken was a 2nd-year student in dental school. He was
trying to convince Michelle to “recreationally” use
laughing gas. Michelle was steadfastly opposed.

“No! I’m not going to do it!”

“Why not? Nothing bad can happen.”

“Look, ok, I’ve had a couple of bad experiences…”

Michelle’s face was beautiful. She possessed a kind
of Nordic look and had long, thick blonde hair. Her
body had great dimensions, a near-ideal 36-26-36. She
was very intelligent, very friendly and was generally
well-liked at school. But beyond all that, the first
thing, and perhaps the last things, sometimes the only
thing, anybody ever noticed about Michelle was the
size of her breasts. They were enormous. Each was
shaped like something between a beach-ball and a
champion-caliber watermelon, and weighed about 50
pounds. Virtually anything Michelle did – walk,
laugh, twist – anything, created a very jiggly, bouncy
visage.

“Oh, like allergic reactions?”

“No. OK, it’s embarrassing. OK, twice, I’ve had
people use laughing gas on me and then they wind up
groping or grabbing me, ok. And I wind up laughing so
hard it hurts”.

Ken was thoroughly intrigued. And aroused. Every
time Michelle even slightly shifted her weight, those
gargantuan breasts flopped and undulated. Ken really,
really wanted to have some intimate contact with the
super-sexy student. Her face had just a slight
flushed appearance, kind of a healthy glow. They had
kissed, but Michelle was adamant about not being
otherwise touched. Especially her breasts. Which was
terribly ironic, because Ken was absolutely dieing to
know what it would feel like to stroke, squeeze and
caress those gigantic, unworldly mammary glands. He
honestly hoped the laughing gas would loosen her up a
bit.

“Laughing from the gas, or the, um, groping?”, he
asked her.

“Sort of both, yes.”

Ken stared at her. Michelle sat on the couch next to
him. It seemed like her breasts were begging to burst
out of her tight blue sweater. In her seated
position, her breasts extended just past her knees and
spilled over her thighs. It was like Michelle had two
bean-bag chairs in her bra. When she twisted to face
him, her right breast dropped onto the couch, while
her left filled the space on her lap. Ken could not
imagine what it would be like to carry twin 50-pound
breasts along all day. He also couldn’t imagine why
laughing gas had such an extreme affect on her, but he
had a hypothesis.

“Are you ticklish or something?”

Ah, Michelle’s secret weakness. Michelle would do
just about anything to keep people from knowing she
was ticklish. On the other hand, it was impossible to
hide if anybody tried. So, being asked if she was
ticklish always presented her with a dilemma for which
she had no good answer: say she was ticklish and
asked not to be tickled, or say she wasn’t and hope to
be believed.

This time, she tried something in between.

“No, I’m really not. A little on my feet…”

He poked her right side. Ken was surprised at just
how firm she was. Michelle screamed and reflexively
jerked her arm down to protect her side.

“Oh, you are ticklish!”

“I am not! You just surprised me”. Michelle twisted
to face him. Her oversized bosom rolled with her.
She felt her face flush. Of course, to Ken, this was
highly erotic. He squeezed her side. Again, Michelle
screamed. This time, though, she jerked very hard and
shot away from him. Her breasts quivered as her
breathing increased.

“Oh, my, you are ticklish! Cootchie coo!” Ken
wiggled his fingers towards Michelle. Michelle had
been conditioned from years and years of being a
tickle victim. When she saw fingers wiggling, she
panicked.

Michelle was not, however, a fast mover. A woman
carrying 100lbs of breasts couldn’t possibly be. She
tried twisting away from Ken, towards her left. Her
breasts, however, stayed behind. It took a lot of
effort for her to gyrate her entire body, and those
weighty glands always lagged. Her sweater hiked over
her midriff.

‘What about here?” Ken got his hand on Michelle’s
belly and gently squeezed. Michelle exploded with
laughter.

“NO! AH HA HA HA HA HA! AH HA HA HA HA HA! AH HA HA
HA HA HA!”

“Oh, tickle tickle tickle! Cootchie cootchie
cootchie! Ha ha ha!”

Michelle slumped forward. Her breasts shifted,
effectively smothering Ken’s arms between her breasts
and her thighs. Michelle’s belly laughs were very
forceful, and caused her bosom to quake with every
sharp, loud guffaw. And of course, Ken kept tickling
that sensitive belly. The side effect, however, was
that his arm wiggled against the bottom of Michelle’s
breasts. Breasts that were as ticklish as they were
large.

“AH HAHAHAHAHA! HAAHAAHAAHAAHAA! OH NO!
HAAAHAAAAAA!”

Michelle stomped her feet against the floor. She
wrapped her arms around her chest to control the
jiggling. Her face quickly became bright red, her
mouth was wide open and her eyes squinted shut. She
shook her head as if to say ‘no’.

Ken saw she was in horrible distress and quit tickling
her.

“My God, I never knew anybody so ticklish!”

Michelle panted and recovered. “Please, you can’t do
that to me ever again. I’m extremely, extremely
ticklish. I can’t stand it.”

“So I see. Is that why you won’t let me touch you?”

“Yes. I’m not kidding. I’m ticklish almost
everywhere. I swear to God, I could literally be
ticked to death”.

“Did you get tickled a lot as a kid or something?”

“Oh yes, all the time. Once anybody ever found out
how ticklish I am, I got tortured. My sister and Dad
both used to tickle me all the time, almost every
day”.

“What about your mom?”

“Oh, she didn’t, but she’s super-ticklish too. My dad
would sometimes have us both rolling around on the
floor at once. He’d use one hand to tickle me and one
to tickle Mom. We’d both be in tears”.

‘Man, that must have been horrible. What about your
sister?”

“She’s ticklish too, but not as much as either of us”.

“Why didn’t you just tickle her back?”

“It’s my stupid breasts! See, both me and my Mom are,
you know, big. My sister is big up top relative to
average people, but I guess just didn’t get whatever
gene my mom and I have that made our breasts grow so
much. So, anyway, my stupid boobs are just too heavy.
I start laughing, and next thing you know I’m
flopping on the floor helpless. Plus, they’re so big
I can’t really run, so if I ever tried tickling her,
she could just get away, and then she’d tickle me to
death. And once she found out my boobs are…never
mind”.

“Man. So, what you’re saying is, if I tickled you,
you’d be helpless”.

Michelle got nervous. “Y-yes”

“Well then. How about…try the laughing gas or I
tickle you!”

Michelle couldn’t argue. She just couldn’t stand
being tickled. She cursed her weakness.

Michelle got gassed. She kept the mask on for about
10 minutes. It was like she was drunk. Her
inhibitions were removed. Which led to her sweater
being removed. Which led to her pants being removed.
Which eventually left Michelle wearing only her bra,
her bikini-style underwear and laying on Ken’s bed.

“Why don’t you take your bra off?”

“Oh, Ken….hee hee hee…oh, I can’t do that?” Even
through her giggly, gas-induced euphoria, Michelle was
loathe to remove her bra. “My…heee hee hee…boobs are
too heavy!”

Ken sat on her thighs. There they were, those
massive, untouchable breasts bulging from beneath
Michelle’s bra. They jutted 3 feet into the air. They
bulged a good 6 inches to her sides. They rippled and
quivered with every giggle.

Ken was excited. The laughing gas (he had been
breathing it in as well) loosened his will to resist.
He had to try it. Michelle couldn’t see over her own
bosom. Ken reached both hands out and placed them on
the sides of Michelle’s bra-covered breasts. He gently
squeezed, but was unprepared for what happened.
Michelle burst into maniacal laughter.

“AHHH HAAAHAAAHAAAAHAAAHAAHAAHAAAHAAA!”

She shook and swatted at his hands.

“Your breasts are ticklish! No way!”

“Oh my God! You can’t! HAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAA!”
Ken stroked the bottoms of her breasts. Even
protected by her bra, just having her breasts stroked
created the most agonizing tickle for Michelle.
Indeed, her breasts were the most ticklish part of her
extremely ticklish body.

Ken loved it. He wiggled his fingers all over the
bottoms of her breasts. Michelle couldn’t do anything
to protect herself. She twisted and jerked wildly,
but that only sent her breasts into motion. Michelle
screamed, laughed and pleaded.

“HAAHAAHAA! NO! HAAHAAHAA! STOP! STOP!
HAAHAAHAAHAA!”

Back and forth, left and right. Her breasts bobbled.
Ken laughed both with her and at her. Finally, he
danced his fingers across Michelle’s nipples. Nipples
that were large, erect and evident even beneath her
very strained, soon-to-burst bra. Nipples that were
also the most ticklish part of Michelle’s
hyperticklish breasts.

Michelle shrieked. It was like a bolt of ticklish
lightning coursed through her entire body. And just
like that, Michelle had an orgasm brought on from the
most severe of all possible tickles. Her body
contracted, writhed, and bucked. Her bra couldn’t
take the violent shaking and broke.

“You just had an orgasm!”

Michelle panted. Tears streamed down her almost
purple cheeks. “Please….please don’t do that. My
boobs are too ticklish. If I get tickled there long
enough, I have an orgasm. I hate it. My nipples are
the worst. You can’t imagine….EEEEEEEEEE! HAA HAA!”

Ken just went at the nipples again. And just like
that, Michelle had another orgasm. Ken wondered what
it was like to tickle a girl during an orgasm, so he
grabbed Michelle’s sides and squeezed while she was
“in the throes of passion”. Michelle jerked so hard
the bed almost broke.

Ken stripped her bra away, leaving those
super-sensitive, super-sized, super-ticklish breasts
flopping unprotected. They jiggled, quaked and danced
as if they had lives of their own, finally flopping
more to either side.

The next thing Michelle knew, both naked breasts were
being horribly tickled. Ken’s hands kneaded her
breast-flesh. Michelle’s laughter was mixed with
gasps and sobs. Her body glistened with sweat. Her
lustrous, long blonde hair matted to her face. She
tried to protect her sensitive flesh, but there was
just too much too cover. Her eyes were tightly shut,
her mouth stretched open into a forced smile as the
laughter poured out. It wasn’t more than 45 seconds
of breast-tickling before her 3rd orgasm occurred.
This time, it was accompanied by passing urine.

“This must be why your abs are so firm! You get a
huge workout from laughing!”

Michelle was breathless. Her abs were sore from
laughing, her lungs ached from screaming and her
breasts were flushed from the tickling. She said
hoarsely and softly “please…please no more…no ho ho
more….”

“Fine! Let’s try your feet!”

THE END!