If Only...

If Only... (M/F, explicit)

I have you naked, spread-eagle, in soft, unyielding cuffs. You're not stretched tight. I like watching you move. And it's less fun if it's too easy for me.

Since you're naked, I hope you don't mind if I get naked too. More comfortable that way. And you're blindfolded anyway!

I lie by your right side, on my left, resting my head in my left palm, calmly, silently surveying the magnificent kingdom spread before me. I feel like a king, lord of all I see! I chuckle softly, and you ask why I'm laughing. You raise your head nervously.

Waves of gooseflesh pass over you. It's not cold. You're a little nervous. Let's fix that.

I pass my hand gently over your right cheek, softly, a caress. You lean into it as if hungry for my touch. Quickly I lean in and kiss your cheek, a soft little peck. Then I caress it again with my hand.

I begin moving my hand over your face, my fingers and my palm, basically flat; it's a soft touch, comforting. You seem to be enjoying it.

After a while, I raise my palms until only my fingertips touch your face. Now the touch is more nearly ticklish. Your pale skin flushes ever so slightly, and your breath seems to catch. I almost-tickle your forehead, you cheeks, under your chin (You give a girlish little squirm when I do that!). I make a very brief foray into your ears and around your neck. You try to pull away from this more definite tickle, with an exclamation that sounds like "HEY!" but I back off immediately. I don't want to get too ticklish yet.

Not yet.

Now for your gorgeous, voluptuous, full-grown woman's body. There are men who would not do this with you because you no longer look like a teenager. The fools! They would turn down a goddess for the simpering, inexperienced, idiotic children around them!

My hand is flat again, and I run it somewhat firmly over your skin. This is a warm, comforting touch, a relaxing touch, almost a massage. I avoid the most delicate areas (Save the best for last!), and I have to get up to be able to touch you all over. I'm using both my hands now, moving around you, rubbing you, occasionally reaching out and kissing one spot or another, but not in the best places! Not yet!

Are you growing bored? Or are you growing sleepy? You're yawning. Touching your skin and gazing at your naked body like this is a feast for me. But perhaps I have over-indulged. Perhaps my touch is too soothing. Perhaps it's time to do something for you. After all, you love to be tickled. Don’t you?

But how to begin? Do I increase my touch gradually from a massage to a full-out tickle attack? Or do I launch a blitzkrieg?

I stand, step away, and stare, silently, at you for a moment. You turn your sightless face toward me, wondering what's about to happen.

I have decided. I leap onto your body, straddling your waist, and begin light, fast fingertip strokes in your underarms. You heave like a bucking bronco and it's all I can do to ride!

I'm listening to the volume of your screams, and I keep tickling you under your arms until I detect the first hint of lessening in your voice, as if you're getting used to this. So now, to the ribs.

Then the belly.

Then the thighs, working down through the knees, and a quick jump to the feet.

Now these choice, magnificent pieces of equipment deserve special consideration, and I stop tickling for a moment. I stare at them. I am crouching at the foot of the bed, eye-level with your soles. Apparently you feel my gaze. You scrunch up your feet as if to protect them from what is to come.

I come at your soles softly, lightly, but with my fingernails. You wail as if in despair! Your feet thrash back and forth, but I keep up with them! I insert my fingers between your toes and you howl! I put your right foot in my mouth and you sound almost like a baby mewling! I run my tongue down your sole and your whole body convulses!

I've spent more time on your feet than on any other part. But now, my specialty!

I come up beside your beautiful, blindfolded face, and I begin to whisper in your ear.

"Evelyn? Evie?" I call in a sing-song, childish voice. "Ev-eeee? Wanna know what I'm going to tickle next?"

Your headshake is the headshake of the tortured damned. Your voice is throaty, almost desperate, as you gulp out the one word, "NO!" It is not that you don’t want to know. You’re begging me to stop. But you don’t really want that, do you?

I get up, position myself by your left, and poise my hands over your underarms. I move in and touch them, and you jump as if I had burned you. But I haven't tickled you. I've only confirmed for you where my hands are. I move in again, place my hands firmly in your armpits, and hold them immobile.

"I'm going to tickle your underarms, Evelyn!" I chant to you, "and I'm going to start tickling on the count of ten!

"Ready?

"One....

"Two....

"Three...."

You are moaning, and your moan is rising.

"Four...."

"WILL YOU GO AHEAD AND GET IT DONE ALREADY?"

I ignore that outburst, and all the others that follow, your thrashing and your heaving. You keep protesting. And I just keep counting.

"Five...."

“PLEASE!!!"

"Six....”

“C’MON NOW…."

"Seven...."

“NOOOOOO!!!!"

"Eight...."

"Derek, no, please, I’ll do anything, ANYTHING!!!!"

"Nine...."

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

And I stop. For a good....long....time....

And I ask, with concern in my voice,

"Are you ready?"

"YAAAAAAASS! I'M READY!" Your throaty scream is deafening.

"Are you sure? Because if you're not ready, I can start the count...."

"JUST DO IT!!!"

"Sure?"

"YES! TICKLE ME!"

"Well, okay, if you're sureTEN!"

And it's that fast fingertip assault again. This time I keep it up until you can't make a sound anymore. You're reduced to silent laughter.

I stop, take the step that brings me right over you, look with loving concern into your face. This is no good! Let's take the blindfold off!

Why, you look frantic! I ask, with loving concern in my voice, "Evelyn, Baby, are you all right?"

"Yes," you manage to pant. "I'm all right."

"GOOD!" and attack your armpits all over again.

Just before you run out of steam there, I move to your hips. And then I snake my hands beneath your gorgeous round bottom, and my fingers pay tribute to how sexily ticklish it is.

Now I'm the Random Tickler, grabbing a foot, then a knee, then a rib, then your waist, then an underarm, then the other knee; place to place, part to part, trying desperately to tickle everything at once.

I bend over you now, bringing both hands into play, tickling your right underarm and your left knee; or your bellybutton and your left foot, at the same time. In a few moments, I bend over closer so I can poke my nose into your navel, and then into your ribs. Three tickles at once, for as long as I feel like it. Guess how long that is!

When I feel you can stand no more, I stop. I lie down beside you and kiss your cheek. That's not enough! I move closer and kiss your lips. Your kiss me back, hungrily. Hmm! Is there a reason? I snake my hand down between your legs and discover how very, very wet you are! A horny girl! Hmm!

So I scooch down and take your left nipple into my mouth while twirling the right one between my fingers. I know, artistically I should warm up to this, but I'm can't wait much longer. I kiss that pretty nipple, tease it with my teeth, suck it hard and run my tongue roughly over it. Then I throw myself across your body and do the same with the other nipple while my hand keeps this one warm.

You're grunting and arching your back and heaving. I'm beginning to think you want me inside you. I can't imagine how you could want it worse than I do. But I regain control of myself.

I lie down with my face by your middle, my left arm holding my head, the way we began. Only this time I put my right hand between your legs, and begin tickling your dripping vagina's lips. I touch them softly, lightly, quickly, ticklingly. You whimper and wiggle your hips, desperate to get a firmer touch.

Finally, I part your lips, and expose your clitoris to cool open air.

For a moment, I stay perfectly still, watching its wet, bald little head cringing and almost crying for attention. I'm torn. Do I touch it with my finger, or kiss it?

I have decided. I kiss it, a little peck, like I did on your cheek when we started. Then I stand up and walk away.

Your disappointment sounds like a roar! I laugh, turn back, and throw myself face down between your legs and begin an oral blitzkrieg. I am shaking my head and roaring and licking and sucking.

I waited too late! You've already come!

I wanted this to last longer!

Now we're going to have to start all over!

And, Young Lady, we're going to keep doing it until we get it right!

Thank you sir, for inviting me to take a look at your work. I haven't read the other one yet but I'll be honest with this one. Having read a lot here this left me quite surprised in a very good way.

You have all the elements here of something that truly has the potential to burn. It sizzles and pops in all the right place but I see smoke on your horizon and eventually fire. I'll send you some nuts and bolts feedback (don't wanna bore anyone here with writer's notes), but believe me, you definitely have some skill.

Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your kind words, and I will gladly receive your nuts and bolts privately. Any help from you will be invaluable!

great story! she is indeed a lucky woman i hope this is a "true tickling" story and you aren't just a tease.... i'd be sooo mad at you if i wanted this for real and you only wrote about it and posted it for everyone else to read before i could experience it.

very nice!

Thank you, thank you all! I think I'm like almost everybody else: we write and post not just for the satisfaction of writing, but hoping for a little applause!

You've made me happy! Thank you.