Daily Quickie #110: Sand Boys

DISCLAIMER: This story contains absolutely no sexual content whatsoever. If that is what you seek, please seek help instead. This story was not written by me, but by my friend Starwarrior. I am posting these stories here on his behalf.

This one happened when I was fourteen and he was twelve. We were at the beach, play fighting and wrestling around the edge of the surf. We were laughing like little kids and really going at it. At one point Kekoa had grabbed my kicking foot and pushed me until I toppled hard onto my back. H straddled my chest and tried to pin my arms but I rolled him over. There was a tussle of hands and feet as we tumbled in the surf. We rolled end over end in the wet sand, giggling and pushing.

We eventually stood up and as we looked at each other we were both overcome with laughter. Rolling in the wet surf, we had taken half the beach with us. We were both covered in sand from head to toe. Hair, skin, our swim trunks. It was everywhere. We must have made quite a sight. I told Kekoa we’d better get back to our towels to get cleaned up and we tromped back up the beach.

We had two beach towels to lay on and a spare towel between us. We plopped down on our backs to let the sand dry in the sun a little before taking the third towel to wipe down. I took the towel and brushed off as best as I could. I handed the towel to Kekoa and laid on my stomach so he could clear off my back.

He took the towel and sat on my bottom to reach. I laid there with my head on my chin as he rubbed the sand off of my back. He started with my lower back and rubbed the towel in slow, circular motions. The massaging of the towel was extremely relaxing. Between that and the warm sun it was making me drowsy. When Kekoa cleared the sand from my lower back moved the towel up between my shoulder blades. I could feel myself drifting as his hands pressed into my back….

And woke up with a start, yelping and giggling at the feel of fingers creeping up my bare sides. When Kekoa realized I was asleep he couldn’t help himself.

“Wakey wakey big brother!” He teased and tickled me again. The way he was sitting on me I couldn’t roll over but I giggled and tried to kick at him. My legs kicked up and down to no avail. He began to press his fingers harder into my soft sides. I arched my back but couldn’t budge him.

“Say mercy!” He declared.

“No way, shrimp!”

He switched to tickling between my shoulder blades, sending shivers coursing through my body. I laughed and tried to scrunch up.

“Aaaahhhh! Stop! Okay, mercy!”

Kekoa stopped and picked up the towel.

“Better not fall asleep again.” He warned. He turned around and started cleaning of the back of my legs and bottoms of my feet. I was feeling playful now and decided to see if I could goad him into tickling me again. As he sat on my calves to rub my feet off I pretended to fall asleep again.

Sure enough, when he thought I was out he started giving my bare feet a good tickling. My voice cracked as I burst out laughing. The sand had left my feet delightfully sensitized and my ticklishness was at a peak. Shivers crawled up my legs and I wiggled my toes. I couldn’t easily wiggle away so for awhile I just lied there and laughed. My squirming toes drew Kekoa’s attention and I felt his fingertips moving up. As his fingers began exploring the delicate soft undersides of my toes I squeaked higher than a fourteen year old boy should. Each little touch whispering through that delicate little spot sent jolts of ticklishness into my nervous system.

“Say mercy!” He called again.

“Not this time!”

Kekoa devoted himself to torturing my toes until I flushed from laughter. But I held my ground and refused to give up. He went back to blitzing over the soles of my feet. I laughed and squirmed as hard as I could and did my best to not give in. But in the end, he wouldn’t stop until I did. My willpower eroded under the attack until I was ready to do anything to get loose.

“Mercy!” I finally shouted. But Kekoa kept tickling up and down my feet. “Mercy! You win! I give up! Mercy, please, mercy mercy!” Kekoa paused his attack and delivered a list of demands.

“Say I’m an awesome little brother!”

“You’re an awesome little brother.”

“And how you only wish you could be as awesome as me.”

“You aren’t more awesome than me squirt-AAAAHHHH!” He started working over my feet again. I laughed and slapped my hands on the sand. “Okay okay okay! I only wish I could be as awesome as you! I only wish I could be as awesome as you! Stoooppp!” Kekoa relented.

“And I’m not a squirt.”

“You aren’t a squirt.”

He let me up but this wasn’t over. I rounded on the sand covered, grinning twelve year old. I smiled back and rushed forward to topple him over. We wrestled some more and I overpowered him to push him onto his back. I pinned his arms over his head, wrists locked under one hand as I leaned down to secure him.

“Hey Keek?”

“Hey what?”

“You’re a squirt!”

He stuck his tongue out at me and blew.

“Time to get all this sand off of you.” I said. Only I didn’t use the towel. I made my index finger into a kind of pick and started brushing sand out of his bellybutton. His face screwed up and he wiggled as his laughter bubbled forth. He was very sandy and it took me a few minutes of work to clear every grain of sand from his button hole but I believed in doing things properly and he laughed and giggled as I did my methodical job. I scraped around the rim and brushed every angle of the little knot until it was perfectly clean to my exacting standards.

After torturing his bellybutton for two or three minutes I dropped the pretense of cleaning, made my hand into a claw, and went straight for the tummy. My brother’s laughter flowed freely. I could feel nothing but sand underneath my fingertips but the coating did nothing to reduce Kekoa’s ticklishness. I could hear his heels drumming on the sand as he laughed helplessly.

It was so funny watching him laugh. He was still thoroughly covered in sand, even in his hair. On his face I could only just see his eyes and mouth as he squealed and chortled. I marched my hand up the bouncing sand belly and worked into his chest. He wiggled about and when I tickled under his neck he tried to attack my hand with his chin. I brushed one of his nipples open, tickling and twisting it until he shrieked. Then I sent both hands into the hollows of his armpits, the one spot of his body that wasn’t sandy. His arms clamped down and he laughed helplessly and twisted about. Now it was my turn.

“Say mercy!”

“Uh uh!”

I drilled deep into his armpits and he squealed and stamped his feet. Tears of laughter cut small little canals into his sand covered face and even more sand sprayed from his hair as he shook with hysterical laughter.

“Nu uh! Nu uh! No! I won’t say it! You can’t make me! YAAAHAAAHAAA! AAAAHHHHH! Okay mercy mercy mercy mercy mercy!”

I stopped my attack and waited for his eyes to open.

“Noowwwww…..say that I am the awesome brother of the family.”

“You are the awesome brother of the family.”

“And you’re the little squirt.”

He tried to break free but I pushed him back down. I gave his bellybutton another good torture tickling and drove him wild with laughter. He was incoherent so instead of waiting for a confession I tickled him for about half a minute and stopped.

“Okay…..okay…..I’m a squirt.”

I ruffled his hair and let him up. I giggled as he stood. He really was a mess. His hair was matted. Sand still caked his face except for where the laughter tears had now cut several channels. His stomach was a mosaic of sand and skin as my probing fingers had left interesting little patterns. I took him to a changing room where he could see himself in a mirror and he was overcome with giggles at the sight of himself. Our laughter echoed in the tile room and I gave him a playful hug around the shoulders before guiding him back to our towels to clean him off.

The End