Mature women have always been a source of erotic fascination for me. Maybe it’s because I was extremely shy when I was young; older women seemed a lot more approachable and sympathetic than girls my own age. But I don’t think that’s the full story; I responded to the sophistication of these women, their air of experience, as well as their beauty. Not to put too fine a point on it, I thought they were sexy as hell. Every movement they made seemed to exude a knowing sensuality. What would it be like to go to bed with a woman like that, I used to wonder.

As a fetishist, I was naturally speculating on other things as well. Back when the prime-time soap opera Dynasty was the hottest thing on TV, I would have died to see Joan Collins’ Alexis barefoot, and given the tickling of her life.

That an older woman makes a superior tickler is, I think, a given. If you were going to be tickle-tortured, who would you tumble for first - Britney Spears...or Marlene Dietrich? J-Lo...or Sophia Lauren? But the older woman as ticklee...now there’s some untapped ground. How fascinating, to see someone that cool, that in control, be gently stripped of authority, and tickled senseless. Start by tying them up. You like stocks? Fine, we’ll put them in stocks. A rack? No problem. This is a fantasy, after all.

Take their shoes off. They’ll be beautiful shoes, naturally; expensive. Probably cost more than you make in a year. Finely-crafted shoes, real leather. Very high heels. Pop them right off those regal tootsies. Toss them over your shoulder, in a fine show of carelessness. Smirk a bit if you like.

What will your victim be doing while their shoes go bye-bye? Grimacing? Staring stonily at you, daring you to even think about touching their feet...and you know their feet will be the stuff of dreams. Highly-arched, soft from years worth of pedicures. Think about that for a moment: those beautiful feet in front of you were being professionally cared for when your ass was still trying to figure out how to make a house out of Lincoln Logs. Naturally, they’ll be sensitive.

Let’s go for a slightly more intimate target: the tummy. Oh sure, every tickler adores feet, but could you imagine getting one of those richly-dressed ladies you see hanging out during intermission at the theater or opera and getting your fingers on their bare tummies? Their navels? Did you ever imagine one of them would even have a belly-button? Imagine their faces then, when you insert a finger into that tender little cup of flesh. Man oh man...

Imagine her breaking...grinning, squeezing her eyes shut, biting her lip. All that bottled-up sensuality, suddenly on display for you and you only.

What would her voice be like? A soft British accent? A honeyed Southern drawl? A hard-as-nails New Yorker’s snarl? Whatever that voice sounds like, you’ll be the one who hears it break down, turning into giggles. Then laughter - loud, irrepressible. Then the pleas...the begging. The heat that rises off her body like heat from a fire. And you know it’s only just beginning.

That is the vision that fuels Sophisticated and Titillated. I sincerely hope you enjoy it.