kryptonite
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Jan 25, 2007
- Messages
- 112
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In the early 1980's Jane, a divorcee`, used to hang around the campus tennis courts, playing the sport as an excuse to pick up college-age guys. I discovered she had a well-earned reputation as a tennis slut. For months we had a weekly tennis date after which we went to her apartment for exercise between the sheets. She was a homely blonde but had big tits and ass so many college kids like myself viewed her as a woman to use. She was, afterall, a few years older than us, and as scholarly undergrads, we weren't ready to get married yet, but when we did we would be sure to pick a prettier face. She adored me however.
She was a good athlete and hit the ball harder than I did though she wasn't consistent. During practice her groundstrokes looked good, but during a competitive match her game fell apart because she couldn't serve or return serve very well. When we played she was lucky to win a game or two.
One afternoon when we were in bed I jokingly suggested that the loser of the next match should submit to bondage. She didn't realize I was kidding and agreed to the bet. I didn't tell her I wasn't serious, thinking I'd have some fun with her, make her kiss my dick or something after she let me tie her up.
The next week on a cold, cloudy, and windy Febuary afternoon she was transformed. She said she'd been practicing for hours every day in preparation. I still thought that once the match started, her game would fall apart as usual, but it didn't. I struggled to hold serve, while she pounded stroke after stroke making me run back and forth. She held her serve, unveiling a new hard spin. I thought of our bet and got aroused realizing how determined she was to win. Finally, I broke her serve for a 5-3 lead and thought I was going to win, but she broke back, battled off two set points in the next game and swept the final four games, playing far better than she ever had before and winning the set 7-5, much to my annoyance.
We went back to her apartment in my car and on the way she told me her motivation came from her desire to make me her love slave. She surprised me in her bedroom too. She had ropes and was ready to tie me down right away. Her aggressiveness scared me a little, but I couldn't think of a viable excuse to get out of it.
We skipped the shower and pealed our sweaty clothes off, her titties bouncing out of her bra. Reluctantly, nervously, I let her tie me spread-eagled to the bed, my erection risen and hard as an oak board. She hovered over me, teasing me with her nipples over my mouth, and hopped out of bed. Her bare ass jiggled to the bathroom and she came back with shaving cream and a razor.
"What, what are you going to do?" I asked.
"Why, shave your manhood. I don't know if you have another girlfriend or not, but I bet this makes you stay faithful, at least till your hair grows back."
"No, no don't."
"You lost the bet and this is what I want to do to you."
She sprayed the shaving cream all over my groin and rubbed it in. Rubbing the sensitive areas tickled me like mad and I tried to move my hands to stop her but my wrists strained uselessly against the ropes. I let out a high pitched titter.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
I didn't want to admit my ticklishness--I already felt defeated from losing to her in tennis.
"Hmm? What was that noise?"
"A cough," I said.
She held my testicles up with one hand and began shaving the underside of my scrotum. I blew in and out as if I was in the weightroom about to lift a heavy barbell. The tickling felt excruciating.
"Will you quit making a big deal about this? It's only a shave," she said.
She sat on my belly to get a better angle on the hair around my groin, blocking my view with her smooth, fleshy ass, and because I couldn't see what parts of me she would touch next, I couldn't anticipate and hold in my laughter.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"Please stop," I begged.
"Why? I'm halfway done."
"Just don't, no don't," I pleaded and giggled again.
"What is so funny?"
I kept giggling, unable to respond.
"Hmm? What's so funny?"
"I can't take this."
"My love slave can't take a little shave. If it's so bad, why do you keep laughing. You must think this is funny."
"It tickles," I admitted, the blood flushing my face.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to tickle you. But now that you mention it, that might be fun--a one-sided tickle fight."
She straddled me and tickled my ribs hard. I desperately thrashed, trying to break free. Panic overwhelmed me. I was afraid she would never stop.
"Kissy, kissy, kissy," she said and she crept down to my penis and put the tip in her mouth. She held my rod and tickled the tip with her flicking, merciless tongue. I lost control--my jiz squirted into her mouth.
She finished shaving me, and I feared she would hold me hostage indefinitely. Maybe she was a crazy woman, literally insane. I whimpered until she let me go, too disoriented to utter a complete sentence. We stayed awake all night, and I pumped her wildly, time after time, unable to control my desire for her, but that was the last time I ever saw her. She got back together with her first husband. But she still haunts my dreams, a succubus draining me, causing sticky stains on the sheets next to my sleeping passive wife. I never let myself get tied down again and married a submissive little cutie whose feet I tickle on special occasions. She's safe. But deep down inside the thought of what crazy Jane did to me that time dominates my mind.
She was a good athlete and hit the ball harder than I did though she wasn't consistent. During practice her groundstrokes looked good, but during a competitive match her game fell apart because she couldn't serve or return serve very well. When we played she was lucky to win a game or two.
One afternoon when we were in bed I jokingly suggested that the loser of the next match should submit to bondage. She didn't realize I was kidding and agreed to the bet. I didn't tell her I wasn't serious, thinking I'd have some fun with her, make her kiss my dick or something after she let me tie her up.
The next week on a cold, cloudy, and windy Febuary afternoon she was transformed. She said she'd been practicing for hours every day in preparation. I still thought that once the match started, her game would fall apart as usual, but it didn't. I struggled to hold serve, while she pounded stroke after stroke making me run back and forth. She held her serve, unveiling a new hard spin. I thought of our bet and got aroused realizing how determined she was to win. Finally, I broke her serve for a 5-3 lead and thought I was going to win, but she broke back, battled off two set points in the next game and swept the final four games, playing far better than she ever had before and winning the set 7-5, much to my annoyance.
We went back to her apartment in my car and on the way she told me her motivation came from her desire to make me her love slave. She surprised me in her bedroom too. She had ropes and was ready to tie me down right away. Her aggressiveness scared me a little, but I couldn't think of a viable excuse to get out of it.
We skipped the shower and pealed our sweaty clothes off, her titties bouncing out of her bra. Reluctantly, nervously, I let her tie me spread-eagled to the bed, my erection risen and hard as an oak board. She hovered over me, teasing me with her nipples over my mouth, and hopped out of bed. Her bare ass jiggled to the bathroom and she came back with shaving cream and a razor.
"What, what are you going to do?" I asked.
"Why, shave your manhood. I don't know if you have another girlfriend or not, but I bet this makes you stay faithful, at least till your hair grows back."
"No, no don't."
"You lost the bet and this is what I want to do to you."
She sprayed the shaving cream all over my groin and rubbed it in. Rubbing the sensitive areas tickled me like mad and I tried to move my hands to stop her but my wrists strained uselessly against the ropes. I let out a high pitched titter.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
I didn't want to admit my ticklishness--I already felt defeated from losing to her in tennis.
"Hmm? What was that noise?"
"A cough," I said.
She held my testicles up with one hand and began shaving the underside of my scrotum. I blew in and out as if I was in the weightroom about to lift a heavy barbell. The tickling felt excruciating.
"Will you quit making a big deal about this? It's only a shave," she said.
She sat on my belly to get a better angle on the hair around my groin, blocking my view with her smooth, fleshy ass, and because I couldn't see what parts of me she would touch next, I couldn't anticipate and hold in my laughter.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"Please stop," I begged.
"Why? I'm halfway done."
"Just don't, no don't," I pleaded and giggled again.
"What is so funny?"
I kept giggling, unable to respond.
"Hmm? What's so funny?"
"I can't take this."
"My love slave can't take a little shave. If it's so bad, why do you keep laughing. You must think this is funny."
"It tickles," I admitted, the blood flushing my face.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to tickle you. But now that you mention it, that might be fun--a one-sided tickle fight."
She straddled me and tickled my ribs hard. I desperately thrashed, trying to break free. Panic overwhelmed me. I was afraid she would never stop.
"Kissy, kissy, kissy," she said and she crept down to my penis and put the tip in her mouth. She held my rod and tickled the tip with her flicking, merciless tongue. I lost control--my jiz squirted into her mouth.
She finished shaving me, and I feared she would hold me hostage indefinitely. Maybe she was a crazy woman, literally insane. I whimpered until she let me go, too disoriented to utter a complete sentence. We stayed awake all night, and I pumped her wildly, time after time, unable to control my desire for her, but that was the last time I ever saw her. She got back together with her first husband. But she still haunts my dreams, a succubus draining me, causing sticky stains on the sheets next to my sleeping passive wife. I never let myself get tied down again and married a submissive little cutie whose feet I tickle on special occasions. She's safe. But deep down inside the thought of what crazy Jane did to me that time dominates my mind.
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