She woke with a start, disoriented. Not a surprise. Strange hotel room in a strange city. Of course she felt disoriented. There was something else though. Something not right. Something...
She realized that the problem was that she couldn't move. And that she couldn’t move because a man in dark clothes and a balaclava was sitting astride her hips. Her arms were under the blankets and his knees were tight against her forearms, pinning her.
She drew breath to scream, but he calmly covered her mouth with one hand. The other rose to his silk covered face to lay a finger over his lips.
"Shhhhh. Don't scream. If I wanted to hurt you I could have done it already." He watched her gather her senses back from sleep and shock. "It's ok, sweetie. I'm not really a stranger. If you can be quiet, I'll take my hand away, okay?"
She nodded and he released her mouth, laying his hands on his thighs. She looked at him in the light spilling in from the parking lot. She couldn't see much beyond the shape of his body (lithe) and his eyes (calm). A lock of soft-looking hair peeked out from the mask.
"Who the hell are you and what do you want?"
"I'll give you a hint. You've been chatting with me for months."
"You're..."
The balaclava rippled with his grin. "Yep. You sounded so lonely tonight telling me all about having to sleep in a hotel bed in a strange town and go to stupid meetings. When I realized it was my town, I thought I'd surprise you."
"So, your idea of a nice surprise is sneaking into my room in a mask and scaring the crap out of me?"
"You told me it was your idea of a nice surprise." She blushed deeply as she thought of the fantasy she'd described to a faceless man she thought she'd never meet. "You wouldn't recognize me anyway," he chuckled. "I didn't want to interfere with what you thought I should look like."
While he explained, his hands were tugging the covers down around her waist, making sure not to let her arms free from the pressure of his legs. His fingers lifted the bottom of her camisole and she whimpered, frightened. He hushed her reassuringly and carefully folded the fabric back to just below her breasts. He sat back and waited.
"How do I know it's really you?"
"Well, I knew you were in this hotel. I know that you live alone in an apartment with two cats, green carpet and a noisy neighbor named Lucas. And I also know that you are insanely ticklish right..."
One finger on each hand found the rib beside each of her breasts. Pressed. Rubbed gently. Tickled...
"...here."
The massive jolt of ticklish sensation felt like he'd just plugged her into the wall socket. She took a gasping breath to shriek for him to stop, but his hands were already resting peacefully on his thighs again.
Yeah, she hadn't told anyone else about that. "Ok, ok, it's really you."
She fought to get her breathing under control. His eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter and his right hand was moving again, slowly stroking back and forth across her bare stomach. Light warm caresses barely touching her skin. One finger dipping as it passed to brush inside her navel. Part of her wondered if she should be kicking, fighting, screaming - something! But most of her was busy loving every second of the fingertips steadily painting her tummy with delicious, sensual tickles. He fluttered his fingers against her sensitized skin and she couldn't help but giggle. He smiled as he watched her argue with herself and brought his other hand into play, gently tickling all ten fingers all over her exposed stomach, her sides, scritching lightly in her belly button.
She tried to tug her hands free, but he still had them firmly pinned. The tickling sensations were undeniable now and she giggled helplessly and wriggled under his dancing fingers as they stroked and probed her ticklish tummy.
He was still being gentle, warming her up. He grinned to himself as he felt her hips start to rock and twist beneath him in an unmistakable rhythm. "Tickle, tickle," he crooned. "Tickle, tickle, tickle."
"God, he's sexy," she thought, as her giggles thickened, mixed with hungry moans. Her body was going wild with need. His gorgeous eyes and his warm, deep voice and the constant, desperately erotic tickling destroyed any thought of telling him to get out. She managed to keep enough breath to speak through the rich laughter his hands were teasing out of her, "Please, God, don't stop!"
He had her. He slowed the pace enough that she could talk without gasping. "Don't stop what, love?"
"Tickling me! God, it feels so good... I want you to tickle and tickle and tickle and never ever stop! You told me you like to do this, but I didn't know...ohhhhhhh..." She sighed appreciatively as one thumb slipped under the folded hem of her top to find a nipple. It crinkled under the caress and she squirmed her hips against his thighs again.
He slowly traced a finger around the edge of her belly button. "Are you sure? If I keep going, it's going to tickle a lot more than this."
"I don't care! Just promise me you won't stop."
"Oh, I promise," he said gleefully. He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the side chair as he slid down to sit next to her. "Sit up and raise your arms over your head." She did so and he let his hands stroke up her ribcage and over her smooth armpits as he slid her camisole over her head. She shivered and let out a sweet little giggle at his touch that made him need to adjust his trousers.
"Put your arms around my neck."
She slid her arms over his shoulders and he wrapped his around her body. His arms were long and his hug trapped her tight against him. He stretched out their bodies and locked her legs between his. She pressed closer and he slid his fingers all the way around her back and into her soft armpits.
He pulled his head back to watch her face as he began to move his fingers in her pits. He grinned as the realization hit her that she couldn't put her arms down or wriggle away and that he meant to tickle her in earnest. She dissolved into full-throated laughter as he spidered his fingers down from her elbows across the soft skin of her biceps, over the gentle swell at the joint, and down to linger in the sensitive hollows. Exertion and arousal and body heat lubricated her skin with a thin sheen of sweat, helping his practiced fingers as he reversed his path to tickle his way back up her biceps.
Her hands flailed uselessly behind his head as she writhed against him, rubbing her breasts delightfully against his bare chest. He tickled back down to her armpits and pressed wiggling fingertips into the soft hollows, laughing happily as the deeper tickle made her bury her face in his shoulder to muffle her shrieking giggles. He began alternating pressures, tickling deeply in her left armpit while his other hand tickled lightly all over her right from elbow to ribs, then switching off as she tried to fling herself from side to side in his grasp, her body sliding across his.
She was going slowly mad in his arms. The way he was holding her only allowed her a few precious inches to wriggle, while his unbelievably skillful hands made her want to spin like a top. This bore little relation to the clumsy attempts of her brothers or various boyfriends to tickle her. No painful scratching or bruising pressure or fumbling around. This guy was an artist. In a matter of seconds, he'd reduced her to a giggling set of nerve endings, incapable of forming any thought beyond OH MY GOD IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES OH OH GOD HE'S TICKLING MEEEEEEEE!!!
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEEHEEHAHAHAHA!!!!"
Her frenzied laughter gave way to panted bursts of weak giggling as he slowed to soft stroking circles in her sweat-slicked armpits. The after-tickles faded, giving her body the opportunity to notify her that she was more aroused than she ever been in her life. His body seemed to be emphatically seconding the motion. She tried to pull her leg up, to wrap it around his hip, but he kept her legs firmly pinned between his. She looked up hopefully and the mischievous sparkle in his eyes almost sent her over the edge.
He let his hands drift down her sides, lightly stroking her ribs and the sides of her breasts. She closed her eyes as the new sensation began to melt her again. She felt silk brush her ear as he whispered a question that made a delectable shiver ripple up from her toes, "More?"
She locked her eyes on his. "Yes. More."
Black silk moved again with his mouth and the corners of his eyes creased as he grinned at her approvingly.
His arms tightened around her again. He was done being subtle. He wanted her wild. He wanted her out of her mind with ticklish ecstasy. He wanted to tickle her out of her skin; to drown her control in a flood of urgent memos from her body that she was being tickled and tickled and tickled! He wanted it because she wanted it. She was depending on him to finish what he'd started and he was damned if he would disappoint her.
He slid his hands down her sides to her hips and began the slow journey upwards.
"Tickle tickle tickle," he cooed, covering the soft expanse between her hips and ribs with quick little squeezes. Her laughter changed to surprised squeals when he lightly pinched her lower rib cage. He spent a long moment there, contentedly tickling the sensitive spot, enjoying that he could cause that much noise and wriggling with a few well-placed fingers. "Did I find a ticklish place? Hmmm? Does this tickle? How about here?"
She vibrated in the tiny amount of wiggle room he allowed her, squealing with ticklishness, as he lingered, steadily tickling her lower ribs. She tried to control her reactions, to think of something else, but his teasing voice kept calling her back, describing just how very tickled she was. He kept shifting his fingers, changing the sensation just enough to keep her from adjusting, but never straying from the tickly tickly spot he'd found.
Finally, she couldn't even try to manage it anymore. She was being expertly and mercilessly tickled, dammit, and there was no point in pretending otherwise! The trap he'd made of his body was oddly comforting. She couldn't control her spasming muscles or her crazed nerves, but he could. He would take care of her. All she had to do was let it take her. She dropped her head back and let the laughter bubble joyfully out of her, writhing even harder in the cage of his arms.
He felt her surrender herself to his tickling fingers and rewarded her by shifting his hands up to cover more of her ribs, merrily tickling her into a paroxysm of panicked delight. He was careful to avoid the hypersensitive rib he'd teased her about earlier (he was saving that spot for later), but the rest of her wonderfully ticklish ribs were fair game. He ran his hands up and down her sides, over and over again, vigorously wiggling each rib in turn. He tucked his fingertips into the long tickly canyons between her ribs and explored them from end to end. He counted and measured. Inventoried and compared. He made a thorough and complete accounting of every spot that made her giggle, wriggle, gasp or shriek when he touched it.
She could feel her sanity slipping away under his hands. The only thing keeping her on this planet was the fact that his half-naked body was twined all around hers and she could feel him respond every time his relentless fingers made her squirm or laugh or squeal. She locked her arms around his shoulders and held on for dear life, pouring tickled woman sounds into his ear, feeling him shudder with pleasure that she wanted this from him.
"HEEHEEHAHAHEEHEEHAHA!!! AIEEE AH EEEEEEE AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Her arms were basically free now, but his industrious tickling had obliterated her memory of how they worked. Her panties were drenched and she desperately wanted to plunge her hands into them – to relieve at least one of the unbearable ticklings. She was twisting like a contortionist, arching back over his arm enough to give him access to her tummy again. He laughed, holding her with one hand while the other slid between them to tickle all over her tender stomach. She flung herself forward again, trapping a devilish fingertip deep in her navel. "Uh oh," he teased, wiggling the trapped finger, "what now? If you push away, I'll tickle your tummy again, but if you don't, I'll just keep tickling away at your belly button!"
He winked at her and pulled the trapped finger back enough that the teasing wiggling became a short nail lightly feathering the sensitive knot at the base of her belly button. She stood this new and utterly maddening tickle, squealing, for all of three seconds before throwing herself back again. He sat up, gravity forcing her to lay back, arched against the curve of his arm. Her breasts presented themselves for his attentions and he reached up with his now free tummy-tickling hand to administer another dose of the gentle, sensual, spider-tickling that had gotten her into trouble in the first place. "This is what you made me promise, right? To tickle and tickle and tickle and never ever stop?"
She was in heaven, hiccupping little giggles as she gasped for air. He had blasted her senses wide open and was now engaged in lightly tracing his fingertips all over her breasts and nipples. Erotic sensation flooded through her scoured nerves fanning arousal into desperate need. "Oh please please please please..."
He lifted her up and swung her legs around so she was lying across his lap. She looked up at him, too exhausted by the tickling to move. He looked at her with serious eyes. "I saved a special tickle for you. It goes with your orgasms." She blinked at the plural. "Two. One for each of those hyper-ticklish ribs. Intense enough to match how much it tickles."
Oh, God. He wanted to tickle those ribs. She'd thought he had avoided tickling her there to be kind – but he was just saving them for last. Having those ribs touched tickled so much she couldn't move or breathe. And he expected her not only to have an orgasm while he was doing it, but to have one as strong as the unbearable tickling?
His hand slipped into her panties and she stopped caring what he did to her as long as he did that too. "I'll give you a head start on the first one." Gentle fingers parted her lips, began to stroke and rub her nub, swollen with need from the constant teasing and tickling. His firm caresses had the desired effect and she moaned with pleasure, lifting her hips to his hand. He dampened his thumb in her juices and pressed her, rubbing in slow rhythmic circles. One finger stroked carefully along her rib. He gently pressed, rubbed.
Her eyes flew open as lightning burst in her brain. Her entire world compressed to the size of a fingertip and the TICKLING coming from it. She couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't even laugh. She stared at him in horror as he continued the gentle rubbing, each tiny movement sending a fresh wave of ticklish torment through her. "Breathe," he whispered, still gently but continuously tickling where she couldn't stand to be tickled. She gasped a breath, and the spell broke. She still couldn't move, but she could laugh. She sobbed with it as he kept tickling back and forth along her rib. His thumb was still busy between her legs and her building orgasm reasserted itself, sexual tension mixing with the ticklish agony. His thumb pressed harder, circled faster. He leaned over her as she moaned in frustration, "Does it tickle?"
She exploded. Hard. He held her on his lap while the orgasm blew through her with all the power it took to overcome the distraction of being tickled nearly to insanity.
She opened her eyes, panting for air.
He stroked the damp hair away from her forehead. "Ready for number two?"
"Wait! Wait. I want...want to..."
"What do you want, honey?"
She gestured weakly, flapping her hand at his face.
"You want to see my face, now? What for?"
She panted in a few more breaths. "So I can imagine you properly when I get home and masturbate to the memory of this six or seven times per day."
He paused for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "Good answer!"
He inclined his head towards her so she could tug the balaclava off. He was still chuckling and his twitching lips inspired a dozen quick visions of other things he might be able to do with his mouth. He watched her patiently, smiling, until her eyes focused again.
"Will I do?" he asked.
"Hell. Fucking. Yes."
He shifted her on his lap so he could reach her other side, settling her bottom on the bulge that appeared to be trying to beat its way out of his pants.
She squirmed against him to push her panties off her hips. His breath hissed in and he closed his eyes for a moment, grinding his hips a little. "I think I'll join you for this one."
She knew the tickling would be unbearable, but she also now knew it would come with one hell of a climax, and she was shivering with anticipation. He settled his fingers on her last untickled rib and grinned wickedly. "Three deep breaths now!"
She gasped three precious lungfuls of air and his wiggling fingers launched a merciless assault on her sanity. The first orgasm had amplified her ticklishness and what would normally have been merely unbearable was upgraded to impossible. He camped on that one rib, tickling and tickling and tickling. She sobbed with helpless laughter, panting for breath. She felt silk in her hand where she was still clutching his mask, crushing it. Her hips twisted madly, sawing her thighs as her arousal tried desperately to catch up with the incredibly intense waves of ticklishness his fingers sent sprinting through her nerves.
"Help...help me...help me...he...help me...please...p-please"
She let out a shuddering sigh that ended with a shriek of tickled laughter as he slid his fingers inside her. She was terrified that he was only teasing her, but he settled into a steady insistent rhythm that rippled pleasure through her. She felt it rising to meet the tickling, matching it. He held her balanced there for what felt like a year, tickle and orgasm warring for her body.
She was writhing in his lap; his head was back and his hips were in constant motion beneath her. He gasped and then grunted long and deep in his throat. His thumb came down to caress her trembling nub and pleasure shattered her apart.
She slowly became aware that she had eyes and opened them, disoriented for the second time that night. The world was upside-down. She considered for a moment and realized that she had flung herself around and halfway off the foot of the bed. She was on her back, her head dangling. She tipped her head back to see him sitting on the floor, supporting her body so she wouldn’t fall.
She pushed weakly with her feet and he helped her slide the rest of way off the bed and settled her in his lap.
"Wow," he said, "just...wow!"
She managed to smile for him. "Can I stay with you for the rest of my trip? Because I'm pretty sure I'm about to be kicked out of this hotel."
She took his slow smile for a yes.
She realized that the problem was that she couldn't move. And that she couldn’t move because a man in dark clothes and a balaclava was sitting astride her hips. Her arms were under the blankets and his knees were tight against her forearms, pinning her.
She drew breath to scream, but he calmly covered her mouth with one hand. The other rose to his silk covered face to lay a finger over his lips.
"Shhhhh. Don't scream. If I wanted to hurt you I could have done it already." He watched her gather her senses back from sleep and shock. "It's ok, sweetie. I'm not really a stranger. If you can be quiet, I'll take my hand away, okay?"
She nodded and he released her mouth, laying his hands on his thighs. She looked at him in the light spilling in from the parking lot. She couldn't see much beyond the shape of his body (lithe) and his eyes (calm). A lock of soft-looking hair peeked out from the mask.
"Who the hell are you and what do you want?"
"I'll give you a hint. You've been chatting with me for months."
"You're..."
The balaclava rippled with his grin. "Yep. You sounded so lonely tonight telling me all about having to sleep in a hotel bed in a strange town and go to stupid meetings. When I realized it was my town, I thought I'd surprise you."
"So, your idea of a nice surprise is sneaking into my room in a mask and scaring the crap out of me?"
"You told me it was your idea of a nice surprise." She blushed deeply as she thought of the fantasy she'd described to a faceless man she thought she'd never meet. "You wouldn't recognize me anyway," he chuckled. "I didn't want to interfere with what you thought I should look like."
While he explained, his hands were tugging the covers down around her waist, making sure not to let her arms free from the pressure of his legs. His fingers lifted the bottom of her camisole and she whimpered, frightened. He hushed her reassuringly and carefully folded the fabric back to just below her breasts. He sat back and waited.
"How do I know it's really you?"
"Well, I knew you were in this hotel. I know that you live alone in an apartment with two cats, green carpet and a noisy neighbor named Lucas. And I also know that you are insanely ticklish right..."
One finger on each hand found the rib beside each of her breasts. Pressed. Rubbed gently. Tickled...
"...here."
The massive jolt of ticklish sensation felt like he'd just plugged her into the wall socket. She took a gasping breath to shriek for him to stop, but his hands were already resting peacefully on his thighs again.
Yeah, she hadn't told anyone else about that. "Ok, ok, it's really you."
She fought to get her breathing under control. His eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter and his right hand was moving again, slowly stroking back and forth across her bare stomach. Light warm caresses barely touching her skin. One finger dipping as it passed to brush inside her navel. Part of her wondered if she should be kicking, fighting, screaming - something! But most of her was busy loving every second of the fingertips steadily painting her tummy with delicious, sensual tickles. He fluttered his fingers against her sensitized skin and she couldn't help but giggle. He smiled as he watched her argue with herself and brought his other hand into play, gently tickling all ten fingers all over her exposed stomach, her sides, scritching lightly in her belly button.
She tried to tug her hands free, but he still had them firmly pinned. The tickling sensations were undeniable now and she giggled helplessly and wriggled under his dancing fingers as they stroked and probed her ticklish tummy.
He was still being gentle, warming her up. He grinned to himself as he felt her hips start to rock and twist beneath him in an unmistakable rhythm. "Tickle, tickle," he crooned. "Tickle, tickle, tickle."
"God, he's sexy," she thought, as her giggles thickened, mixed with hungry moans. Her body was going wild with need. His gorgeous eyes and his warm, deep voice and the constant, desperately erotic tickling destroyed any thought of telling him to get out. She managed to keep enough breath to speak through the rich laughter his hands were teasing out of her, "Please, God, don't stop!"
He had her. He slowed the pace enough that she could talk without gasping. "Don't stop what, love?"
"Tickling me! God, it feels so good... I want you to tickle and tickle and tickle and never ever stop! You told me you like to do this, but I didn't know...ohhhhhhh..." She sighed appreciatively as one thumb slipped under the folded hem of her top to find a nipple. It crinkled under the caress and she squirmed her hips against his thighs again.
He slowly traced a finger around the edge of her belly button. "Are you sure? If I keep going, it's going to tickle a lot more than this."
"I don't care! Just promise me you won't stop."
"Oh, I promise," he said gleefully. He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the side chair as he slid down to sit next to her. "Sit up and raise your arms over your head." She did so and he let his hands stroke up her ribcage and over her smooth armpits as he slid her camisole over her head. She shivered and let out a sweet little giggle at his touch that made him need to adjust his trousers.
"Put your arms around my neck."
She slid her arms over his shoulders and he wrapped his around her body. His arms were long and his hug trapped her tight against him. He stretched out their bodies and locked her legs between his. She pressed closer and he slid his fingers all the way around her back and into her soft armpits.
He pulled his head back to watch her face as he began to move his fingers in her pits. He grinned as the realization hit her that she couldn't put her arms down or wriggle away and that he meant to tickle her in earnest. She dissolved into full-throated laughter as he spidered his fingers down from her elbows across the soft skin of her biceps, over the gentle swell at the joint, and down to linger in the sensitive hollows. Exertion and arousal and body heat lubricated her skin with a thin sheen of sweat, helping his practiced fingers as he reversed his path to tickle his way back up her biceps.
Her hands flailed uselessly behind his head as she writhed against him, rubbing her breasts delightfully against his bare chest. He tickled back down to her armpits and pressed wiggling fingertips into the soft hollows, laughing happily as the deeper tickle made her bury her face in his shoulder to muffle her shrieking giggles. He began alternating pressures, tickling deeply in her left armpit while his other hand tickled lightly all over her right from elbow to ribs, then switching off as she tried to fling herself from side to side in his grasp, her body sliding across his.
She was going slowly mad in his arms. The way he was holding her only allowed her a few precious inches to wriggle, while his unbelievably skillful hands made her want to spin like a top. This bore little relation to the clumsy attempts of her brothers or various boyfriends to tickle her. No painful scratching or bruising pressure or fumbling around. This guy was an artist. In a matter of seconds, he'd reduced her to a giggling set of nerve endings, incapable of forming any thought beyond OH MY GOD IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES IT TICKLES OH OH GOD HE'S TICKLING MEEEEEEEE!!!
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEEHEEHAHAHAHA!!!!"
Her frenzied laughter gave way to panted bursts of weak giggling as he slowed to soft stroking circles in her sweat-slicked armpits. The after-tickles faded, giving her body the opportunity to notify her that she was more aroused than she ever been in her life. His body seemed to be emphatically seconding the motion. She tried to pull her leg up, to wrap it around his hip, but he kept her legs firmly pinned between his. She looked up hopefully and the mischievous sparkle in his eyes almost sent her over the edge.
He let his hands drift down her sides, lightly stroking her ribs and the sides of her breasts. She closed her eyes as the new sensation began to melt her again. She felt silk brush her ear as he whispered a question that made a delectable shiver ripple up from her toes, "More?"
She locked her eyes on his. "Yes. More."
Black silk moved again with his mouth and the corners of his eyes creased as he grinned at her approvingly.
His arms tightened around her again. He was done being subtle. He wanted her wild. He wanted her out of her mind with ticklish ecstasy. He wanted to tickle her out of her skin; to drown her control in a flood of urgent memos from her body that she was being tickled and tickled and tickled! He wanted it because she wanted it. She was depending on him to finish what he'd started and he was damned if he would disappoint her.
He slid his hands down her sides to her hips and began the slow journey upwards.
"Tickle tickle tickle," he cooed, covering the soft expanse between her hips and ribs with quick little squeezes. Her laughter changed to surprised squeals when he lightly pinched her lower rib cage. He spent a long moment there, contentedly tickling the sensitive spot, enjoying that he could cause that much noise and wriggling with a few well-placed fingers. "Did I find a ticklish place? Hmmm? Does this tickle? How about here?"
She vibrated in the tiny amount of wiggle room he allowed her, squealing with ticklishness, as he lingered, steadily tickling her lower ribs. She tried to control her reactions, to think of something else, but his teasing voice kept calling her back, describing just how very tickled she was. He kept shifting his fingers, changing the sensation just enough to keep her from adjusting, but never straying from the tickly tickly spot he'd found.
Finally, she couldn't even try to manage it anymore. She was being expertly and mercilessly tickled, dammit, and there was no point in pretending otherwise! The trap he'd made of his body was oddly comforting. She couldn't control her spasming muscles or her crazed nerves, but he could. He would take care of her. All she had to do was let it take her. She dropped her head back and let the laughter bubble joyfully out of her, writhing even harder in the cage of his arms.
He felt her surrender herself to his tickling fingers and rewarded her by shifting his hands up to cover more of her ribs, merrily tickling her into a paroxysm of panicked delight. He was careful to avoid the hypersensitive rib he'd teased her about earlier (he was saving that spot for later), but the rest of her wonderfully ticklish ribs were fair game. He ran his hands up and down her sides, over and over again, vigorously wiggling each rib in turn. He tucked his fingertips into the long tickly canyons between her ribs and explored them from end to end. He counted and measured. Inventoried and compared. He made a thorough and complete accounting of every spot that made her giggle, wriggle, gasp or shriek when he touched it.
She could feel her sanity slipping away under his hands. The only thing keeping her on this planet was the fact that his half-naked body was twined all around hers and she could feel him respond every time his relentless fingers made her squirm or laugh or squeal. She locked her arms around his shoulders and held on for dear life, pouring tickled woman sounds into his ear, feeling him shudder with pleasure that she wanted this from him.
"HEEHEEHAHAHEEHEEHAHA!!! AIEEE AH EEEEEEE AHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Her arms were basically free now, but his industrious tickling had obliterated her memory of how they worked. Her panties were drenched and she desperately wanted to plunge her hands into them – to relieve at least one of the unbearable ticklings. She was twisting like a contortionist, arching back over his arm enough to give him access to her tummy again. He laughed, holding her with one hand while the other slid between them to tickle all over her tender stomach. She flung herself forward again, trapping a devilish fingertip deep in her navel. "Uh oh," he teased, wiggling the trapped finger, "what now? If you push away, I'll tickle your tummy again, but if you don't, I'll just keep tickling away at your belly button!"
He winked at her and pulled the trapped finger back enough that the teasing wiggling became a short nail lightly feathering the sensitive knot at the base of her belly button. She stood this new and utterly maddening tickle, squealing, for all of three seconds before throwing herself back again. He sat up, gravity forcing her to lay back, arched against the curve of his arm. Her breasts presented themselves for his attentions and he reached up with his now free tummy-tickling hand to administer another dose of the gentle, sensual, spider-tickling that had gotten her into trouble in the first place. "This is what you made me promise, right? To tickle and tickle and tickle and never ever stop?"
She was in heaven, hiccupping little giggles as she gasped for air. He had blasted her senses wide open and was now engaged in lightly tracing his fingertips all over her breasts and nipples. Erotic sensation flooded through her scoured nerves fanning arousal into desperate need. "Oh please please please please..."
He lifted her up and swung her legs around so she was lying across his lap. She looked up at him, too exhausted by the tickling to move. He looked at her with serious eyes. "I saved a special tickle for you. It goes with your orgasms." She blinked at the plural. "Two. One for each of those hyper-ticklish ribs. Intense enough to match how much it tickles."
Oh, God. He wanted to tickle those ribs. She'd thought he had avoided tickling her there to be kind – but he was just saving them for last. Having those ribs touched tickled so much she couldn't move or breathe. And he expected her not only to have an orgasm while he was doing it, but to have one as strong as the unbearable tickling?
His hand slipped into her panties and she stopped caring what he did to her as long as he did that too. "I'll give you a head start on the first one." Gentle fingers parted her lips, began to stroke and rub her nub, swollen with need from the constant teasing and tickling. His firm caresses had the desired effect and she moaned with pleasure, lifting her hips to his hand. He dampened his thumb in her juices and pressed her, rubbing in slow rhythmic circles. One finger stroked carefully along her rib. He gently pressed, rubbed.
Her eyes flew open as lightning burst in her brain. Her entire world compressed to the size of a fingertip and the TICKLING coming from it. She couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't even laugh. She stared at him in horror as he continued the gentle rubbing, each tiny movement sending a fresh wave of ticklish torment through her. "Breathe," he whispered, still gently but continuously tickling where she couldn't stand to be tickled. She gasped a breath, and the spell broke. She still couldn't move, but she could laugh. She sobbed with it as he kept tickling back and forth along her rib. His thumb was still busy between her legs and her building orgasm reasserted itself, sexual tension mixing with the ticklish agony. His thumb pressed harder, circled faster. He leaned over her as she moaned in frustration, "Does it tickle?"
She exploded. Hard. He held her on his lap while the orgasm blew through her with all the power it took to overcome the distraction of being tickled nearly to insanity.
She opened her eyes, panting for air.
He stroked the damp hair away from her forehead. "Ready for number two?"
"Wait! Wait. I want...want to..."
"What do you want, honey?"
She gestured weakly, flapping her hand at his face.
"You want to see my face, now? What for?"
She panted in a few more breaths. "So I can imagine you properly when I get home and masturbate to the memory of this six or seven times per day."
He paused for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "Good answer!"
He inclined his head towards her so she could tug the balaclava off. He was still chuckling and his twitching lips inspired a dozen quick visions of other things he might be able to do with his mouth. He watched her patiently, smiling, until her eyes focused again.
"Will I do?" he asked.
"Hell. Fucking. Yes."
He shifted her on his lap so he could reach her other side, settling her bottom on the bulge that appeared to be trying to beat its way out of his pants.
She squirmed against him to push her panties off her hips. His breath hissed in and he closed his eyes for a moment, grinding his hips a little. "I think I'll join you for this one."
She knew the tickling would be unbearable, but she also now knew it would come with one hell of a climax, and she was shivering with anticipation. He settled his fingers on her last untickled rib and grinned wickedly. "Three deep breaths now!"
She gasped three precious lungfuls of air and his wiggling fingers launched a merciless assault on her sanity. The first orgasm had amplified her ticklishness and what would normally have been merely unbearable was upgraded to impossible. He camped on that one rib, tickling and tickling and tickling. She sobbed with helpless laughter, panting for breath. She felt silk in her hand where she was still clutching his mask, crushing it. Her hips twisted madly, sawing her thighs as her arousal tried desperately to catch up with the incredibly intense waves of ticklishness his fingers sent sprinting through her nerves.
"Help...help me...help me...he...help me...please...p-please"
She let out a shuddering sigh that ended with a shriek of tickled laughter as he slid his fingers inside her. She was terrified that he was only teasing her, but he settled into a steady insistent rhythm that rippled pleasure through her. She felt it rising to meet the tickling, matching it. He held her balanced there for what felt like a year, tickle and orgasm warring for her body.
She was writhing in his lap; his head was back and his hips were in constant motion beneath her. He gasped and then grunted long and deep in his throat. His thumb came down to caress her trembling nub and pleasure shattered her apart.
She slowly became aware that she had eyes and opened them, disoriented for the second time that night. The world was upside-down. She considered for a moment and realized that she had flung herself around and halfway off the foot of the bed. She was on her back, her head dangling. She tipped her head back to see him sitting on the floor, supporting her body so she wouldn’t fall.
She pushed weakly with her feet and he helped her slide the rest of way off the bed and settled her in his lap.
"Wow," he said, "just...wow!"
She managed to smile for him. "Can I stay with you for the rest of my trip? Because I'm pretty sure I'm about to be kicked out of this hotel."
She took his slow smile for a yes.
