For those who missed them
Part 4 http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=196151
Part 1 http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=194988
Part 2 http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=195319
Part 3 http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=195729
Aphrodite could feel the strain now. Manipulating the seaweed had been a challenge by itself, but doing it while pushing Allison deeper and deeper into dominating Cheryl miles away made much harder. Add in numbing Cheryl's resistance, and you had a task that the goddess couldn't have normally handled, not with out more power than just possessing Daphne Clark could give her.
But she was on her island, and place of strength for the goddess. Here her last followers had gathered, building her last temple, dedicating her last fountain and holding their last orgies. She had extra authority over the creatures that lived here. And while the women hadn't been on the island nearly as long as the seaweed, they slept in her temple, drank from her fountain. That gave her the control she needed.
It hadn't been enough though, to let the seaweed overwhelm both Brenda and Susan. That would have broken all her spells. Luckily, she had another plan, another fate, waiting for those too. One that would fuel her far more than just having the pair tickled and pleasured by a plant.
She couldn't help but smile wickedly when no one else was looking.
* * * * *
After the sea weed attack, it was no surprise that the three women quickly decided to go back to the cave. Packing up their supplies and the fish (Ms. Clark had speared three of them!) took only seconds, and soon they were back on the trail through the woods.
Brenda's emotional state was still confused to say the least. The horror of her near death experience warred with the desires stirred by having her intimate parts so skillfully touched and the physical closeness she had shared with Susan. She wasn't sure if she wanted to sit down and cry or slip off into the woods and masturbate. To avoid going insane, she had asked Ms. Clark about the seaweed's strange behavior, hoping a scientific discussion would not only distract her, but would fire up the neurons in her left brain, allowing her hysterical right brain to take a rest.
And it did. The more Brenda listened to her former science teacher explain the biology behind the kelp's actions, the more she became convinced Ms. Clark was lying.
Of all the girls on the trip, she had been the closest to Ms. Clark back at school. Cheryl might have been a nerd, but she was more into books and history. Brenda had been a science geek, taking several classes with Ms. Clark and even serving as treasurer of the Science Club her senior year, the club Ms. Clark had been faculty adviser of. Brenda even planned on majoring in marine biology in the fall. She knew scientific technobabble when she heard it.
Oh, the words Ms. Clark were using were right out of a science textbook, multisyllable words with Greek and Latin origins. But the context she was using those words in rendered them meaningless. Yet the teacher said them with such confidence, such belief, that it was hard to doubt. She was like a used car salesman! Susan nodded along, convinced she just wasn't smart enough to absorb what Ms. Clark was saying, but Brenda knew otherwise.
Brenda nodded too, but her thoughts were miles different. The old Ms. Clark would have never lied to her. She would have admitted not knowing. She probably would have been fascinated by the mystery, trying to devise an experiment or test to explore it further.
No, her former teacher was very different suddenly. Brenda couldn't help but frown as she listened.
“You know, Brenda,” Ms. Clark stopped her bogus explanation, looking at the brunette closely, “If you're worn out from your ordeal, we could stop and rest.”
Brenda didn't want to stop and rest. If anything she wanted to hurry back to the cave everyone was taking shelter in and compare notes with the other girls when Daphne Clark wasn't around. She wanted to see if any of them had noticed anything odd about their former teacher. And...just maybe see if of them had had odd dreams, like she'd had for Susan. It would be embarrassing to admit it, but Brenda was beginning to think that something was truly wrong here.
After all, scientifically, if both she and Ms. Clark were experiencing some kind of personality change, it might be being caused by something on the island. And it could be effecting the others as well.
Brenda opened her mouth to tell Ms. Clark 'No', that she could continue. But suddenly, her body was exhausted! One second she was fine, the next Brenda was breathing heavy and her legs were on fire, minutes away from cramping. She even felt a bit dizzy. Nodding 'yes' instead, Brenda sat on a nearby rock, barely making it instead of just collapsing to the ground.
“That's fine, Susan why don't you look after her. I saw a few rare plants I want to categorize while I have a chance.” And with that, Daphne Clark disappeared into the brush.
“You're problem is that you aren't really built for cross country hikes. Probably too many cheeseburgers” Susan, a vegan, said in a voice so cocky that Brenda would have slapped her mouth if she had had the energy to stand up. The contrast between their body types, Susan's tall athletic one and Brenda's short and full figured, had always been a constant source of teasing between them.
“I'm....I'm sure it had nothing to do with being attacked by killer kelp,” Brenda quipped sarcastically.
“Yeah, seaweed is fucking dangerous! Right up there with lions and sharks! Damn, you sure sounded funny!” Susan smiled, “You were laughing so loudly, like you were having the time of your life! It took us a while to realize you were in trouble! I've never seen someone that fucking ticklish before.”
Brenda tried to reply, say something witty, but before she could, Susan came up behind her and gave her ribs a quick two handed tickled.
“he ehe stoppp it he ehe ehe” Brenda giggled, pinning her arms to her side and twisting her torso away from Susan's fingers.
Susan reached around further, digging her digits into Brenda's belly. Her stomach was soft, not the six pack Susan and Allison had, but not fat either, an inch of softness over base of hard muscle. A few pinches in key spots had Brenda bending over, giggling even louder.
“Gehe eheh eeet heheh your ehe eh daammn he eheh hand ehe he offf of he ehe meehehe!!!!” Brenda lost her balance, and fell off the rock. That let Susan hover above her poking her in the sides and hips, making Brenda laugh and laugh even as she tried to roll away.
“Whose a ticklish little baby, who?” Susan taunted, fingers scribbling up and down Brenda's back and across her neck.
“He ehe eHEE ehe mehehe e HE MEE EE EHEHE eheheh he eheh jussstt eheheh stawwwppppp!!!” Brenda laughed. The tickling robbed her of all coordination, and she just couldn't stand up. All she could do was roll on the ground, desperately trying to shield her ticklish body.
“I told you you should have joined the volleyball team,” Susan said after stopping her tickling torment, “Sports hardens you. I can't imagine any athlete being so distracted by a few simple touches.” Susan leaned against a nearby tree, left hand on the bark, in kind of a victory pose.
“Fine he eheh, you win. You're tough. Could I at least have a drink from your canteen?”
“Sure. All that giggling and rolling around on the ground had to be exhausting for a science geek like yourself.” Susan said nastily. But when she tried to walk to her pack, something strange happened. Somehow, her hand seemed stuck to the tree! She gave it a few yanks, but it didn't budge. A look of panic replaced the smug one that had been in the jock's eyes moments before.
“Hey! What's going on!” Susan cried out, tugging more and more on that arm.
“Calm down, let me take a look,” Brenda said, standing up. Susan's cry of distress had pumped some energy back into Brenda.. She found that every inch of Susan's left palm and fingers were stuck tight to the bark by sap acting like some kind of superglue! Luckily none of Susan's arm below the wrists had been touching the tree. Careful not to touch the tree herself, Brenda tried to free her friend, pulling a on her wrist and wiggling, but that resulted in nothing but Susan grunting in pain.
“I've heard of plants like this,” Brenda said, “They use this sticky sap to trap insects, so when they die from thirst and decompose, their bodies add nutrients to the soil, but I've never heard of a plant doing it to prey more massive than a kilogram! I wonder what they molecular composition of that sap is?”
“Stop with the science geek shit,” Susan snapped, “Just get me off of this tree!””
“Don't worry, Ms. Clark will be back soon. I'm sure she'll have an answer. She has for everything else on this island.” And Brenda was confident. Somehow she knew Daphne Clark would solve this puzzle without working up a sweat, almost if she knew the answer all along In the meantime...
“Damn you,” Susan said angrily, “This is all your fault! If your fat ass wasn't too out of shape for a cross country walk, I wouldn't be in this mess! We'd still be marching!”
“Not my fault you were too stupid not to touch the super glue tree,” Brenda answered sharply though her heart wasn't in the comeback. Her thoughts were on the bizarre vegetation of this island. First the seaweed, now this tree! How could such predatory plants exist anywhere in the world and not be well known, nevertheless in Greece, the ancient crucible of civilization! They should absolutely infamous, recorded in myth and legend.
Brenda felt too hot to focus on the science right now. The Greek sun, which had felt quite pleasant most of the day suddenly felt like it was only inches from Brenda's face and her skin felt as fiery as her red hair. Her cotton t-shirt she was wearing over her swim suit now felt like wool, heavy and itchy. Almost without conscious thought, Brenda pulled the shirt off over her head. Walking over, she got Susan's canteen from her pack and took a long drink.
She never noticed Susan's eyes fixated on her and the ample cleavage displayed by her suit.
“Could...could I have some water too please?” Susan asked after a minute, her voice sounding meek and humble, the exact opposite of the haughty tones she had used all day. Her eyes never left Brenda's chest. She didn't think she could pull them away. Why? She'd showered with so many girls after games, never gave their bodies a second glance. Of course, not many women needing a double D bra played volleyball...
Without a word, Brenda stood up and walked to her friend. She didn't notice Susan staring at her because she was doing the same thing back. Something about the way Susan was standing, hand high on the tree, wearing the sleeveless white tank top that barely covered her breasts, left her entire belly bare, held up only by two spaghetti straps over her shoulders.
Brenda pressed the bottle of water into Susan's hand, standing only inches from her. A desire to embrace her, kiss her washed over Brenda again, almost as strong as it had been on the beach. This time she knew she would not be able to resit for long. The alien desires were winning.
“So, I'm weak for being ticklish am I? I take it that means you aren't.” Brenda said softly. She reached out and touched Susan's bicep near her shoulder and began slowly tracing across her upper arm. At the first touch, both women felt a spark of electricity.
Susan shook her head 'No', feeling her mouth grow dry. She seemed unable to pull her brown eyes away from Brenda's darker ones. Her free hand hung limp at her side, feeling like it weighed a ton.
Brenda's fingers moved across Susan's bicep and reached her elbow. With her right hand was stuck to the tree a bit above her head, Susan's elbow formed an almost perfect right angle, with her forearm extended straight up. But Brenda's fingers didn't travel that way. Instead they moved to Susan's tricep and began moving back to Susan's shoulder.
Susan's body shuddered. Brenda's fingers were so soft, soft as silk. The men she had dated, fellow jocks like herself, and had such rough hands, rough from callouses and scrapes. This was so different, Susan felt her nerve endings practically reaching out to be touched. Then she felt something else.
Susan dropped the bottle of water and bit her lip, even though the corner of it kept perking up. Her eyes had a wild look, full of surprise. She seemed to be laboring really hard to keep her breathing even and to stop any squeals or squeaks from popping out of her lips. As Brenda's fingers continued sliding down Susan's arm (despite her embarrassment at what she was doing, she hadn't actually stopped!) Brenda could feel the tricep trembling.
Susan was ticklish after all! The realization washed over Brenda was clearly as if a ghost had whispered it in her ear. A devilish idea, wholly formed, sprang up in Brenda's brain, as well as an irresistible urge to see it through. This time there was no guilt to make her stop.
Leaning over, Brenda whispered into Susan's ear “And you should not have called me fat,” then she let her fingers slide down the rest of Susan's tricep and straight into her hairless underarm.
Susan popped like a balloon, and suddenly she was laughing full force as five fingers wiggled in her underarm. They were so soft but firm, stroking her sensitive skin, ticklishness lancing from them up her arm. Instinctively, she tried to rip her arm down, prepared to lose the skin off her palm if it made it stop! But her hand was stuck fast, and all Susan could do was cry out hysterically.
“Ah, whose the poor ticklish baby now?” Brenda taunted, dragging all five sharp nails over the very center of Susan's armpit, making the volleyball striker howl. Susan's underarm was milky white and creamy. Touching it was pure bliss, but she couldn't help but want to do more.
“ah ahah hah aha ah ahah nawwoowowoo ha ahah ah I'mmm nawwwtt ah ahah ahah nawwwwttt ah ahah tickkliisshhhsisisisihshshshsh ha ah ahah ahahahah ahaaa!!!!!!!!” Susan cried out. She seemed to remember she had another hand, one not stuck to a tree, reached out and pushed Brenda away.
Despite her predicament, or maybe because of it, Susan's push had enough force to knock Brenda over, making her fall onto the hard ground. She landed on her bottom with a huff of exhaled air.
“Don't touch me, you queer or I'll kick your ass!” Susan snapped, using anger to cover her true emotions.
Brenda just sat in the dirt for a second, staring. All Susan was wearing below her tank top was her skimpy bikini bottom, showing off her legs perfectly. They were curvy with sensual lines, yet hard as steel. An artist wanting a model for a statue of wonder woman or an amazon princess could have used no better model. They were looked so strong and feminine, powerful and graceful.
Standing up, Brenda dusted herself off. Susan was glaring at her, free hand balled up tightly in a fist, the threat blatantly obvious. Yet, her eyes held something else too, longing, need, hope that somehow the intimate moment from a few seconds ago could be repeated. Two sides of herself warring, just as they did in Brenda.
Well, the solution to this puzzle wasn't too hard to figure out. With a smile, Brenda simply moved around Susan, staying out of range of her right cross, until she was behind her.
“You know, for a girl in such a helpless position, you sure are acting tough, like a big old meanie,” Brenda said, whispering into Susan's ear, assuming a position so similar to the one Ms. Clark had used to teach her spear fishing, “I think you need to laugh more.”
Brenda attacked Susan's open armpit again, five fingers scribbling in the deep hollow as fast as they could.
Susan erupted, her laughter, surprisingly high pitched and girly filling the air. She turned her head from side to side, trying to get a look at the person tickling her while her free hand made clumsy grabs behind her. Brenda dodged it easily, moving into a spot Susan just couldn't reach.
“EHE EHEH EHEH KILLLLLLL HE EHE EHEHEH EHEH I I I EHE EHEH EH I I EH EHEH I WILLLLLL EH EHEHEH EHEHEH I I I I I HE EHEH WILLLLL EHEHE EHEHEH FUCCKINNGGGG HE EHEHEH KILLLL EHEH EHEHEH EHEHHH YOOOUUHHHUHUHUHUHU!!!!”
After a few minutes, Susan gave up trying to attack and tried defense. She used her free right hand to cover her defenseless left armpit, trying to shield the sensitive flesh in her deep hollows from the merciless tickling. But Susan's hand wasn't quite big enough to cover her entire armpit. Brenda started playfully scraping a nail over whatever edge her friend couldn't protect..
“Are you sure you're not ticklish? You sure are laughing like you are! How is it possible that a big bad jock is as ticklish as little old me?” The sound of Susan's laughter seemed to change depending on what part of her underarm Brenda touched. The bottom, near her ribs, made Susan laughter grow deeper, whle the inside edge near her breast made it grow high pitched and squeeky! The Top near her shoulder and the outside by Susan's back ended up somewhere in the middle!
“AH aha HA AH AHAH STAWWWPP AH AHH IIIAH IIIIIITTT AHAHAHAH!!!” Susan tried to fan out her fingers, to shield more of her tender flesh, but that just gave Brenda more holes to attack, using quick pokes to attack the very center of Susan's underarm, getting in a few short flicks before Susan could move her hand again.
“Very well,” Brenda said at last, “If you don't want me tickling your armpit, maybe I'll just get you...here!” Keeping her left hand dancing around Susan's armpit, Brenda used her right hand to attack Susan's right side, this time sliding under her white tank top and tickling her ribs.
“HE EH EHEHEH NAWWWWTT HE EHEHEH THERERERER BI BI HE EHEHE EHEHH HE HE EE BIIIIITTTTCHHCH CHE EHEH EHH HE EHEH BREENNDDA AHAH AHAHHA AH A IIII'mmmmm HA AHA AHH STUCCCKKKKK AH AH H AHAH
A AH AHAHAH!!!!”
There was only a thin layer of flesh covering Susan's rib. Brenda squeezed each bone, running her fingertips up and down its length, as she worked her hand down her side, delighting in touching Susan's lithe frame. She couldn't help caresses Susan's flank with her palm even as her fingers twisted and turned into the space between ribs.
Susan writhing in ticklish agony, looking like a bad exotic dancer. She pulled her right hand back, pressing her free arm to her side to defend her ticklish ribs, but that just left her vulnerable underarm wide open to tickle attacks again.
Brenda's fingers moved like a buzz saw, to fast to be scene, skating over that milky white skin, skin that never saw the sun. Susan howled, instinctively moving her free hand to rescue her armpit again. As soon as Susan moved an inch, however, Brenda struck with her other hand as well, pinching Susan's firm sides just a few inches up from her waist, forcing her back to cover that part of her body.
Susan just howled. She couldn't protect both sides of her body with one arm. Brenda just kept tickling both, one hand fixed in her underarm, the other roaming from belly to ribs. She was vulnerable, helpless, unable to stop what was happening to her. And part of Susan loved it.
“Listen to the tough little girl laugh!” Brenda said in a sing song voice, “Laugh for me little girl, laugh. Laugh and dance while I pull your strings!” Susan's laughter was delicious! Brenda could hear her friend's voice becoming more strained, but she couldn't stop her fingers from digging into her warm skin.
“HE EH EHEHEH EHEH I I I CAN'T HE EHEH EHEH CANN'TTT HE EHEH TAKKKEEE HE EHE EHEH TAKAAAAKKKKEEEEE HE EHEH ITTT!!!” She tried to grab Brenda's right hand, force it from her body, so she only had to endure one set of tickling fingers, but the sensory overload she was experiencing made her attempts clumsy and awkward. Brenda easily moved her hand aside, finding new, fresher spots to tickle. With a wicked smile, Brenda just starting ticking Susan's hip, poking her fingers into the bone drilling in hard.
“Your just too slow honey!” Brenda shouted to be heard over Susan's ever growing screeching laughter, “And there are just so many ticklish places to choose from!”
Tickling Susan's hip drove her even more crazy than her armpit or ribs. It was like Brenda's fingers were dancing on a nerve that ran to every part of her body. She began hopping up and down as much as her stuck hand would allow her, trying to twist away from the torment. Blindly, she reached down, trying to stop those tormenting digits just like you would slap at a biting fly.
And Brenda moved her own hand lower, digging into Susan's thigh muscles. Now it was Brenda that was stretched out, tickling the taller woman high on her armpit and low on her leg, looking like somebody playing a cello in a string quartet. Her instrument squirmed more than one made out of wood and string, but to Brenda the sound it made was more beautiful than a Stradivarius.
Tickled in two such different spots, high on her left side and low on her right, Susan gave up trying to defend herself. It was as if her mind just couldn't react to being tormented in such different spots. She just wrapped her free arm around her belly and laughed and laughed, screaming like a small child, fully out of control.
Brenda loved tickling Susan's thigh, but really wanted to move her fingertips to the inside of her thigh, to dance over that warm, cushiony, smooth flesh, to bring her fingertips closer to her...no, not there! That wasn't...wasn't...Brenda forced her hand to move back to Susan's waist, tickling the safe skin near her belly button.
There, she could feel her friends stomach desperately trying to get in air, gasping for breath Brenda knew she was pushing the volleyball player to her limits. Remembering her need from a minute ago, Brenda knew she was pushing herself to her limits as well. She had to stop, let them both recover. It was hard, but Brenda pulled her hands off of Susan's lithe body.
“I never knew you were so ticklish,” Brenda smiled, trying to make light of the incident, “I always thought you were made of ice!” It was just horseplay after all. Friends tickled each other, right? She was just playing with Susan. A joke, horseplay, while they waited for Ms. Clark, getting back at Susan for calling her fat. Right?
She started it...
Susan said nothing, only shrugging. It seemed stupid to deny it, but she knew she wasn't ticklish, and that might just get Brenda started again. Denying you were ticklish was the surest way to get tickled. Traveling with a girls volleyball team taught you that. All those nights in hotel rooms, a dozen teenage girls, bored out of their minds, prohibited from going out by the coaches and chaperones and finding “real” fun...Well, they had to do something, and at least once a season, that something ended up being tickle fights or a tickle game or something like it.
Odd, in all those games, none of the other girls had ever gotten even a chuckle from her. Well, she hadn't been stuck to a tree, tickled from behind then either. The truth be told, she'd always thought the most ticklish girls, the ones who took the brunt of the attacks, the ones who ended of screaming and begging for mercy, were just wimps. Now she knew differently. But she also knew she wasn't going to take this lying down.
“Go...go to...hell <gasp>,” Susan breathed deeply, “I'll...I'll be free <gasp> eventually. Then heh heh...then you better watch that big ass of yours <gasp>...”
“Oh, muffin, don't be like that,” Brenda took her hand off Susan's hip and ran it up her back, giving a little spider tickle, just enough to make her friend giggle and sputter, “You know you had this coming. We're just playing around. A silly game.” Right?
Brenda's right hand slipped under Susan's tank top, felt the rock hard muscles of Susan's back. The spider tickles turned into a massage, Brenda kneading with the palm and wrist. That would make it up to, her wouldn't it? Everyone loved a good back massage.
Susan definitely did. She moaned slightly, her muscles more tense than after a long practice, so what her friend was doing felt good. Susan didn't want it to stop. When Brenda started using both hands rubbing firmly in circles, she practically meowed.
Brenda's hands kept climbing higher, pressing hard against Susan's sore back. She could feel the willingness in her friend, the way her body pushed back against her hands instead of struggling to escape from them. It was nice. Thoughts of tickling fled from Brenda's head with every purr Susan made. She was helping her friend feel better. That thought made Brenda's skin tingle.
Then she got between Susan's shoulder bladed and found the string to her bikini top, the only thing her friend was wearing beneath her shirt, tied tightly in a loop. An evil idea occurred to the science geek, one she was incapable of repressing. Still rubbing with one hand, she took the end of the bow with the other and gave a gentle tug. The bikini top untied and then fell off of Susan's chest.
Susan felt the release immediately, the shifting of weight as her breasts were freed. While hers weren't that large, 'B' cups bordering on 'C', they were solid, heavy enough to cause her to wear a sports bra while playing, She knew she was going to miss that protection now.
“Brenda, you bitch! What the hell are you doing!” Susan yelled, excited and frightened at what she thought her friend might do next. “I'll kick your ass! I swear, Brenda! Put my top back on or I'll..”
“Or you'll do what,” Brenda asked coyly, “I'm trying to be nice to you, give you a nice massage after all that tickling, tickling you richly deserved, I might add, and you threaten to hit me? That is not nice.”
“Put my top back on Brenda. Seriously, or I will punch you in the face! I'm not kidding!” Susan had never been as vulnerable as she was right now, and that vulnerability both scared and excited her. Confused, she resorted to physical threats, her usual way to solve problems.
“You can't threaten me,” Brenda said, having none of it, “Maybe you still don't understand just exactly what I can do to you, you being so ticklish and all.” She wrapped her arms around Susan's body, as if giving her a hug from behind, and slid her hands over to her breasts. There she began to tickle their undersides, vibrating her fingertips over Susan's tits with a touch as soft as a butterfly's wing.
“AHA AHA AHAHAH AHAHHA H AWWOOOO AHA AHAH AHAH AWOWOOWOO AHA AH GAWWDD AHA AHAHAH AHAH NAWWOOOO AH AHAHHH AH YOOOUUUU HA AH AHAHHH AHHH ACAANNNN'TTT HA AHAH AHAHAH HAHA CANNNN''TTT HA AH A A A AH AH DOOOOHOHOO THISSS AHA AHAHAHAHAH TOOHOHOHOHOO MEHE EHEHEHEHEH!!!!”
“Oh, but I can,” Brenda whispered, hot breath again on Susan's neck, “I am the one in control here. And there is nothing...nothing you can do to stop me.” She slid her hands to the sides of Susan's boobs, fingers dancing faster if not firmer, grazing over her mammary glands like ten feathers.
Susan's response, if any, couldn't be understood as she was gurgling with laughter. She began to jump up and down, as far as her stuck hand would let her anyways, head bobbing up and down like a bobblehead doll. It tickled like nothing she had ever known, tickled like nothing she would have thought possible.
“Don't be such a baby! You try having your private parts tickled by a plant and tell me how you feel then!” Brenda barked, feeling no pity at all for her ticklish friend. She kept moving her hands around Susan's round, squishy orbs, like the hands of a clock, grazing her fingers underneath, on top and over their sides. With every pass, Brenda got closer and closer Susan's rock hard nipples.
“You are such a tickly little girl, a tickly little helpless girl! And I'm going to do this to you for as long as I can,” Brenda whispered, lost in the joy of the moment. The feel of Susan's pert breasts was electric, the sound of her bouncy laughter washing over her was like heaven. It was such a perfect moment.
Susan, of course, wouldn't have agreed. All she could do was pour her suffering into her laughter, shriek after hysterical shriek forcing its way out of her mouth. But even as it tickled, the tender touch on her boobs felt so good. Never had she had them handled so expertly, so delicately. The boys she had dated hadn't understood the concept of foreplay well. After a few clumsy grasps at her tits, they had quickly moved on to other parts of her body.
As Brenda's fingers grew close to her nipples, Susan's free hand was sliding down her belly, getting close and close to her groin. Even as her laughter grew and grew, so did her pleasure. She was losing control.
So was Brenda, her tickles were becoming more and more like caresses, hands brushing Susan's boobs more and more passionately. Moans and groans started becoming mixed in with Susan's laughter, every sound she made becoming more throaty, more guttural.
Then Brenda's hands touched Susan's rock hard nipples. And both woman's worlds exploded.
Part 4 http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=196151
Part 1 http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=194988
Part 2 http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=195319
Part 3 http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=195729
Aphrodite could feel the strain now. Manipulating the seaweed had been a challenge by itself, but doing it while pushing Allison deeper and deeper into dominating Cheryl miles away made much harder. Add in numbing Cheryl's resistance, and you had a task that the goddess couldn't have normally handled, not with out more power than just possessing Daphne Clark could give her.
But she was on her island, and place of strength for the goddess. Here her last followers had gathered, building her last temple, dedicating her last fountain and holding their last orgies. She had extra authority over the creatures that lived here. And while the women hadn't been on the island nearly as long as the seaweed, they slept in her temple, drank from her fountain. That gave her the control she needed.
It hadn't been enough though, to let the seaweed overwhelm both Brenda and Susan. That would have broken all her spells. Luckily, she had another plan, another fate, waiting for those too. One that would fuel her far more than just having the pair tickled and pleasured by a plant.
She couldn't help but smile wickedly when no one else was looking.
* * * * *
After the sea weed attack, it was no surprise that the three women quickly decided to go back to the cave. Packing up their supplies and the fish (Ms. Clark had speared three of them!) took only seconds, and soon they were back on the trail through the woods.
Brenda's emotional state was still confused to say the least. The horror of her near death experience warred with the desires stirred by having her intimate parts so skillfully touched and the physical closeness she had shared with Susan. She wasn't sure if she wanted to sit down and cry or slip off into the woods and masturbate. To avoid going insane, she had asked Ms. Clark about the seaweed's strange behavior, hoping a scientific discussion would not only distract her, but would fire up the neurons in her left brain, allowing her hysterical right brain to take a rest.
And it did. The more Brenda listened to her former science teacher explain the biology behind the kelp's actions, the more she became convinced Ms. Clark was lying.
Of all the girls on the trip, she had been the closest to Ms. Clark back at school. Cheryl might have been a nerd, but she was more into books and history. Brenda had been a science geek, taking several classes with Ms. Clark and even serving as treasurer of the Science Club her senior year, the club Ms. Clark had been faculty adviser of. Brenda even planned on majoring in marine biology in the fall. She knew scientific technobabble when she heard it.
Oh, the words Ms. Clark were using were right out of a science textbook, multisyllable words with Greek and Latin origins. But the context she was using those words in rendered them meaningless. Yet the teacher said them with such confidence, such belief, that it was hard to doubt. She was like a used car salesman! Susan nodded along, convinced she just wasn't smart enough to absorb what Ms. Clark was saying, but Brenda knew otherwise.
Brenda nodded too, but her thoughts were miles different. The old Ms. Clark would have never lied to her. She would have admitted not knowing. She probably would have been fascinated by the mystery, trying to devise an experiment or test to explore it further.
No, her former teacher was very different suddenly. Brenda couldn't help but frown as she listened.
“You know, Brenda,” Ms. Clark stopped her bogus explanation, looking at the brunette closely, “If you're worn out from your ordeal, we could stop and rest.”
Brenda didn't want to stop and rest. If anything she wanted to hurry back to the cave everyone was taking shelter in and compare notes with the other girls when Daphne Clark wasn't around. She wanted to see if any of them had noticed anything odd about their former teacher. And...just maybe see if of them had had odd dreams, like she'd had for Susan. It would be embarrassing to admit it, but Brenda was beginning to think that something was truly wrong here.
After all, scientifically, if both she and Ms. Clark were experiencing some kind of personality change, it might be being caused by something on the island. And it could be effecting the others as well.
Brenda opened her mouth to tell Ms. Clark 'No', that she could continue. But suddenly, her body was exhausted! One second she was fine, the next Brenda was breathing heavy and her legs were on fire, minutes away from cramping. She even felt a bit dizzy. Nodding 'yes' instead, Brenda sat on a nearby rock, barely making it instead of just collapsing to the ground.
“That's fine, Susan why don't you look after her. I saw a few rare plants I want to categorize while I have a chance.” And with that, Daphne Clark disappeared into the brush.
“You're problem is that you aren't really built for cross country hikes. Probably too many cheeseburgers” Susan, a vegan, said in a voice so cocky that Brenda would have slapped her mouth if she had had the energy to stand up. The contrast between their body types, Susan's tall athletic one and Brenda's short and full figured, had always been a constant source of teasing between them.
“I'm....I'm sure it had nothing to do with being attacked by killer kelp,” Brenda quipped sarcastically.
“Yeah, seaweed is fucking dangerous! Right up there with lions and sharks! Damn, you sure sounded funny!” Susan smiled, “You were laughing so loudly, like you were having the time of your life! It took us a while to realize you were in trouble! I've never seen someone that fucking ticklish before.”
Brenda tried to reply, say something witty, but before she could, Susan came up behind her and gave her ribs a quick two handed tickled.
“he ehe stoppp it he ehe ehe” Brenda giggled, pinning her arms to her side and twisting her torso away from Susan's fingers.
Susan reached around further, digging her digits into Brenda's belly. Her stomach was soft, not the six pack Susan and Allison had, but not fat either, an inch of softness over base of hard muscle. A few pinches in key spots had Brenda bending over, giggling even louder.
“Gehe eheh eeet heheh your ehe eh daammn he eheh hand ehe he offf of he ehe meehehe!!!!” Brenda lost her balance, and fell off the rock. That let Susan hover above her poking her in the sides and hips, making Brenda laugh and laugh even as she tried to roll away.
“Whose a ticklish little baby, who?” Susan taunted, fingers scribbling up and down Brenda's back and across her neck.
“He ehe eHEE ehe mehehe e HE MEE EE EHEHE eheheh he eheh jussstt eheheh stawwwppppp!!!” Brenda laughed. The tickling robbed her of all coordination, and she just couldn't stand up. All she could do was roll on the ground, desperately trying to shield her ticklish body.
“I told you you should have joined the volleyball team,” Susan said after stopping her tickling torment, “Sports hardens you. I can't imagine any athlete being so distracted by a few simple touches.” Susan leaned against a nearby tree, left hand on the bark, in kind of a victory pose.
“Fine he eheh, you win. You're tough. Could I at least have a drink from your canteen?”
“Sure. All that giggling and rolling around on the ground had to be exhausting for a science geek like yourself.” Susan said nastily. But when she tried to walk to her pack, something strange happened. Somehow, her hand seemed stuck to the tree! She gave it a few yanks, but it didn't budge. A look of panic replaced the smug one that had been in the jock's eyes moments before.
“Hey! What's going on!” Susan cried out, tugging more and more on that arm.
“Calm down, let me take a look,” Brenda said, standing up. Susan's cry of distress had pumped some energy back into Brenda.. She found that every inch of Susan's left palm and fingers were stuck tight to the bark by sap acting like some kind of superglue! Luckily none of Susan's arm below the wrists had been touching the tree. Careful not to touch the tree herself, Brenda tried to free her friend, pulling a on her wrist and wiggling, but that resulted in nothing but Susan grunting in pain.
“I've heard of plants like this,” Brenda said, “They use this sticky sap to trap insects, so when they die from thirst and decompose, their bodies add nutrients to the soil, but I've never heard of a plant doing it to prey more massive than a kilogram! I wonder what they molecular composition of that sap is?”
“Stop with the science geek shit,” Susan snapped, “Just get me off of this tree!””
“Don't worry, Ms. Clark will be back soon. I'm sure she'll have an answer. She has for everything else on this island.” And Brenda was confident. Somehow she knew Daphne Clark would solve this puzzle without working up a sweat, almost if she knew the answer all along In the meantime...
“Damn you,” Susan said angrily, “This is all your fault! If your fat ass wasn't too out of shape for a cross country walk, I wouldn't be in this mess! We'd still be marching!”
“Not my fault you were too stupid not to touch the super glue tree,” Brenda answered sharply though her heart wasn't in the comeback. Her thoughts were on the bizarre vegetation of this island. First the seaweed, now this tree! How could such predatory plants exist anywhere in the world and not be well known, nevertheless in Greece, the ancient crucible of civilization! They should absolutely infamous, recorded in myth and legend.
Brenda felt too hot to focus on the science right now. The Greek sun, which had felt quite pleasant most of the day suddenly felt like it was only inches from Brenda's face and her skin felt as fiery as her red hair. Her cotton t-shirt she was wearing over her swim suit now felt like wool, heavy and itchy. Almost without conscious thought, Brenda pulled the shirt off over her head. Walking over, she got Susan's canteen from her pack and took a long drink.
She never noticed Susan's eyes fixated on her and the ample cleavage displayed by her suit.
“Could...could I have some water too please?” Susan asked after a minute, her voice sounding meek and humble, the exact opposite of the haughty tones she had used all day. Her eyes never left Brenda's chest. She didn't think she could pull them away. Why? She'd showered with so many girls after games, never gave their bodies a second glance. Of course, not many women needing a double D bra played volleyball...
Without a word, Brenda stood up and walked to her friend. She didn't notice Susan staring at her because she was doing the same thing back. Something about the way Susan was standing, hand high on the tree, wearing the sleeveless white tank top that barely covered her breasts, left her entire belly bare, held up only by two spaghetti straps over her shoulders.
Brenda pressed the bottle of water into Susan's hand, standing only inches from her. A desire to embrace her, kiss her washed over Brenda again, almost as strong as it had been on the beach. This time she knew she would not be able to resit for long. The alien desires were winning.
“So, I'm weak for being ticklish am I? I take it that means you aren't.” Brenda said softly. She reached out and touched Susan's bicep near her shoulder and began slowly tracing across her upper arm. At the first touch, both women felt a spark of electricity.
Susan shook her head 'No', feeling her mouth grow dry. She seemed unable to pull her brown eyes away from Brenda's darker ones. Her free hand hung limp at her side, feeling like it weighed a ton.
Brenda's fingers moved across Susan's bicep and reached her elbow. With her right hand was stuck to the tree a bit above her head, Susan's elbow formed an almost perfect right angle, with her forearm extended straight up. But Brenda's fingers didn't travel that way. Instead they moved to Susan's tricep and began moving back to Susan's shoulder.
Susan's body shuddered. Brenda's fingers were so soft, soft as silk. The men she had dated, fellow jocks like herself, and had such rough hands, rough from callouses and scrapes. This was so different, Susan felt her nerve endings practically reaching out to be touched. Then she felt something else.
Susan dropped the bottle of water and bit her lip, even though the corner of it kept perking up. Her eyes had a wild look, full of surprise. She seemed to be laboring really hard to keep her breathing even and to stop any squeals or squeaks from popping out of her lips. As Brenda's fingers continued sliding down Susan's arm (despite her embarrassment at what she was doing, she hadn't actually stopped!) Brenda could feel the tricep trembling.
Susan was ticklish after all! The realization washed over Brenda was clearly as if a ghost had whispered it in her ear. A devilish idea, wholly formed, sprang up in Brenda's brain, as well as an irresistible urge to see it through. This time there was no guilt to make her stop.
Leaning over, Brenda whispered into Susan's ear “And you should not have called me fat,” then she let her fingers slide down the rest of Susan's tricep and straight into her hairless underarm.
Susan popped like a balloon, and suddenly she was laughing full force as five fingers wiggled in her underarm. They were so soft but firm, stroking her sensitive skin, ticklishness lancing from them up her arm. Instinctively, she tried to rip her arm down, prepared to lose the skin off her palm if it made it stop! But her hand was stuck fast, and all Susan could do was cry out hysterically.
“Ah, whose the poor ticklish baby now?” Brenda taunted, dragging all five sharp nails over the very center of Susan's armpit, making the volleyball striker howl. Susan's underarm was milky white and creamy. Touching it was pure bliss, but she couldn't help but want to do more.
“ah ahah hah aha ah ahah nawwoowowoo ha ahah ah I'mmm nawwwtt ah ahah ahah nawwwwttt ah ahah tickkliisshhhsisisisihshshshsh ha ah ahah ahahahah ahaaa!!!!!!!!” Susan cried out. She seemed to remember she had another hand, one not stuck to a tree, reached out and pushed Brenda away.
Despite her predicament, or maybe because of it, Susan's push had enough force to knock Brenda over, making her fall onto the hard ground. She landed on her bottom with a huff of exhaled air.
“Don't touch me, you queer or I'll kick your ass!” Susan snapped, using anger to cover her true emotions.
Brenda just sat in the dirt for a second, staring. All Susan was wearing below her tank top was her skimpy bikini bottom, showing off her legs perfectly. They were curvy with sensual lines, yet hard as steel. An artist wanting a model for a statue of wonder woman or an amazon princess could have used no better model. They were looked so strong and feminine, powerful and graceful.
Standing up, Brenda dusted herself off. Susan was glaring at her, free hand balled up tightly in a fist, the threat blatantly obvious. Yet, her eyes held something else too, longing, need, hope that somehow the intimate moment from a few seconds ago could be repeated. Two sides of herself warring, just as they did in Brenda.
Well, the solution to this puzzle wasn't too hard to figure out. With a smile, Brenda simply moved around Susan, staying out of range of her right cross, until she was behind her.
“You know, for a girl in such a helpless position, you sure are acting tough, like a big old meanie,” Brenda said, whispering into Susan's ear, assuming a position so similar to the one Ms. Clark had used to teach her spear fishing, “I think you need to laugh more.”
Brenda attacked Susan's open armpit again, five fingers scribbling in the deep hollow as fast as they could.
Susan erupted, her laughter, surprisingly high pitched and girly filling the air. She turned her head from side to side, trying to get a look at the person tickling her while her free hand made clumsy grabs behind her. Brenda dodged it easily, moving into a spot Susan just couldn't reach.
“EHE EHEH EHEH KILLLLLLL HE EHE EHEHEH EHEH I I I EHE EHEH EH I I EH EHEH I WILLLLLL EH EHEHEH EHEHEH I I I I I HE EHEH WILLLLL EHEHE EHEHEH FUCCKINNGGGG HE EHEHEH KILLLL EHEH EHEHEH EHEHHH YOOOUUHHHUHUHUHUHU!!!!”
After a few minutes, Susan gave up trying to attack and tried defense. She used her free right hand to cover her defenseless left armpit, trying to shield the sensitive flesh in her deep hollows from the merciless tickling. But Susan's hand wasn't quite big enough to cover her entire armpit. Brenda started playfully scraping a nail over whatever edge her friend couldn't protect..
“Are you sure you're not ticklish? You sure are laughing like you are! How is it possible that a big bad jock is as ticklish as little old me?” The sound of Susan's laughter seemed to change depending on what part of her underarm Brenda touched. The bottom, near her ribs, made Susan laughter grow deeper, whle the inside edge near her breast made it grow high pitched and squeeky! The Top near her shoulder and the outside by Susan's back ended up somewhere in the middle!
“AH aha HA AH AHAH STAWWWPP AH AHH IIIAH IIIIIITTT AHAHAHAH!!!” Susan tried to fan out her fingers, to shield more of her tender flesh, but that just gave Brenda more holes to attack, using quick pokes to attack the very center of Susan's underarm, getting in a few short flicks before Susan could move her hand again.
“Very well,” Brenda said at last, “If you don't want me tickling your armpit, maybe I'll just get you...here!” Keeping her left hand dancing around Susan's armpit, Brenda used her right hand to attack Susan's right side, this time sliding under her white tank top and tickling her ribs.
“HE EH EHEHEH NAWWWWTT HE EHEHEH THERERERER BI BI HE EHEHE EHEHH HE HE EE BIIIIITTTTCHHCH CHE EHEH EHH HE EHEH BREENNDDA AHAH AHAHHA AH A IIII'mmmmm HA AHA AHH STUCCCKKKKK AH AH H AHAH
A AH AHAHAH!!!!”
There was only a thin layer of flesh covering Susan's rib. Brenda squeezed each bone, running her fingertips up and down its length, as she worked her hand down her side, delighting in touching Susan's lithe frame. She couldn't help caresses Susan's flank with her palm even as her fingers twisted and turned into the space between ribs.
Susan writhing in ticklish agony, looking like a bad exotic dancer. She pulled her right hand back, pressing her free arm to her side to defend her ticklish ribs, but that just left her vulnerable underarm wide open to tickle attacks again.
Brenda's fingers moved like a buzz saw, to fast to be scene, skating over that milky white skin, skin that never saw the sun. Susan howled, instinctively moving her free hand to rescue her armpit again. As soon as Susan moved an inch, however, Brenda struck with her other hand as well, pinching Susan's firm sides just a few inches up from her waist, forcing her back to cover that part of her body.
Susan just howled. She couldn't protect both sides of her body with one arm. Brenda just kept tickling both, one hand fixed in her underarm, the other roaming from belly to ribs. She was vulnerable, helpless, unable to stop what was happening to her. And part of Susan loved it.
“Listen to the tough little girl laugh!” Brenda said in a sing song voice, “Laugh for me little girl, laugh. Laugh and dance while I pull your strings!” Susan's laughter was delicious! Brenda could hear her friend's voice becoming more strained, but she couldn't stop her fingers from digging into her warm skin.
“HE EH EHEHEH EHEH I I I CAN'T HE EHEH EHEH CANN'TTT HE EHEH TAKKKEEE HE EHE EHEH TAKAAAAKKKKEEEEE HE EHEH ITTT!!!” She tried to grab Brenda's right hand, force it from her body, so she only had to endure one set of tickling fingers, but the sensory overload she was experiencing made her attempts clumsy and awkward. Brenda easily moved her hand aside, finding new, fresher spots to tickle. With a wicked smile, Brenda just starting ticking Susan's hip, poking her fingers into the bone drilling in hard.
“Your just too slow honey!” Brenda shouted to be heard over Susan's ever growing screeching laughter, “And there are just so many ticklish places to choose from!”
Tickling Susan's hip drove her even more crazy than her armpit or ribs. It was like Brenda's fingers were dancing on a nerve that ran to every part of her body. She began hopping up and down as much as her stuck hand would allow her, trying to twist away from the torment. Blindly, she reached down, trying to stop those tormenting digits just like you would slap at a biting fly.
And Brenda moved her own hand lower, digging into Susan's thigh muscles. Now it was Brenda that was stretched out, tickling the taller woman high on her armpit and low on her leg, looking like somebody playing a cello in a string quartet. Her instrument squirmed more than one made out of wood and string, but to Brenda the sound it made was more beautiful than a Stradivarius.
Tickled in two such different spots, high on her left side and low on her right, Susan gave up trying to defend herself. It was as if her mind just couldn't react to being tormented in such different spots. She just wrapped her free arm around her belly and laughed and laughed, screaming like a small child, fully out of control.
Brenda loved tickling Susan's thigh, but really wanted to move her fingertips to the inside of her thigh, to dance over that warm, cushiony, smooth flesh, to bring her fingertips closer to her...no, not there! That wasn't...wasn't...Brenda forced her hand to move back to Susan's waist, tickling the safe skin near her belly button.
There, she could feel her friends stomach desperately trying to get in air, gasping for breath Brenda knew she was pushing the volleyball player to her limits. Remembering her need from a minute ago, Brenda knew she was pushing herself to her limits as well. She had to stop, let them both recover. It was hard, but Brenda pulled her hands off of Susan's lithe body.
“I never knew you were so ticklish,” Brenda smiled, trying to make light of the incident, “I always thought you were made of ice!” It was just horseplay after all. Friends tickled each other, right? She was just playing with Susan. A joke, horseplay, while they waited for Ms. Clark, getting back at Susan for calling her fat. Right?
She started it...
Susan said nothing, only shrugging. It seemed stupid to deny it, but she knew she wasn't ticklish, and that might just get Brenda started again. Denying you were ticklish was the surest way to get tickled. Traveling with a girls volleyball team taught you that. All those nights in hotel rooms, a dozen teenage girls, bored out of their minds, prohibited from going out by the coaches and chaperones and finding “real” fun...Well, they had to do something, and at least once a season, that something ended up being tickle fights or a tickle game or something like it.
Odd, in all those games, none of the other girls had ever gotten even a chuckle from her. Well, she hadn't been stuck to a tree, tickled from behind then either. The truth be told, she'd always thought the most ticklish girls, the ones who took the brunt of the attacks, the ones who ended of screaming and begging for mercy, were just wimps. Now she knew differently. But she also knew she wasn't going to take this lying down.
“Go...go to...hell <gasp>,” Susan breathed deeply, “I'll...I'll be free <gasp> eventually. Then heh heh...then you better watch that big ass of yours <gasp>...”
“Oh, muffin, don't be like that,” Brenda took her hand off Susan's hip and ran it up her back, giving a little spider tickle, just enough to make her friend giggle and sputter, “You know you had this coming. We're just playing around. A silly game.” Right?
Brenda's right hand slipped under Susan's tank top, felt the rock hard muscles of Susan's back. The spider tickles turned into a massage, Brenda kneading with the palm and wrist. That would make it up to, her wouldn't it? Everyone loved a good back massage.
Susan definitely did. She moaned slightly, her muscles more tense than after a long practice, so what her friend was doing felt good. Susan didn't want it to stop. When Brenda started using both hands rubbing firmly in circles, she practically meowed.
Brenda's hands kept climbing higher, pressing hard against Susan's sore back. She could feel the willingness in her friend, the way her body pushed back against her hands instead of struggling to escape from them. It was nice. Thoughts of tickling fled from Brenda's head with every purr Susan made. She was helping her friend feel better. That thought made Brenda's skin tingle.
Then she got between Susan's shoulder bladed and found the string to her bikini top, the only thing her friend was wearing beneath her shirt, tied tightly in a loop. An evil idea occurred to the science geek, one she was incapable of repressing. Still rubbing with one hand, she took the end of the bow with the other and gave a gentle tug. The bikini top untied and then fell off of Susan's chest.
Susan felt the release immediately, the shifting of weight as her breasts were freed. While hers weren't that large, 'B' cups bordering on 'C', they were solid, heavy enough to cause her to wear a sports bra while playing, She knew she was going to miss that protection now.
“Brenda, you bitch! What the hell are you doing!” Susan yelled, excited and frightened at what she thought her friend might do next. “I'll kick your ass! I swear, Brenda! Put my top back on or I'll..”
“Or you'll do what,” Brenda asked coyly, “I'm trying to be nice to you, give you a nice massage after all that tickling, tickling you richly deserved, I might add, and you threaten to hit me? That is not nice.”
“Put my top back on Brenda. Seriously, or I will punch you in the face! I'm not kidding!” Susan had never been as vulnerable as she was right now, and that vulnerability both scared and excited her. Confused, she resorted to physical threats, her usual way to solve problems.
“You can't threaten me,” Brenda said, having none of it, “Maybe you still don't understand just exactly what I can do to you, you being so ticklish and all.” She wrapped her arms around Susan's body, as if giving her a hug from behind, and slid her hands over to her breasts. There she began to tickle their undersides, vibrating her fingertips over Susan's tits with a touch as soft as a butterfly's wing.
“AHA AHA AHAHAH AHAHHA H AWWOOOO AHA AHAH AHAH AWOWOOWOO AHA AH GAWWDD AHA AHAHAH AHAH NAWWOOOO AH AHAHHH AH YOOOUUUU HA AH AHAHHH AHHH ACAANNNN'TTT HA AHAH AHAHAH HAHA CANNNN''TTT HA AH A A A AH AH DOOOOHOHOO THISSS AHA AHAHAHAHAH TOOHOHOHOHOO MEHE EHEHEHEHEH!!!!”
“Oh, but I can,” Brenda whispered, hot breath again on Susan's neck, “I am the one in control here. And there is nothing...nothing you can do to stop me.” She slid her hands to the sides of Susan's boobs, fingers dancing faster if not firmer, grazing over her mammary glands like ten feathers.
Susan's response, if any, couldn't be understood as she was gurgling with laughter. She began to jump up and down, as far as her stuck hand would let her anyways, head bobbing up and down like a bobblehead doll. It tickled like nothing she had ever known, tickled like nothing she would have thought possible.
“Don't be such a baby! You try having your private parts tickled by a plant and tell me how you feel then!” Brenda barked, feeling no pity at all for her ticklish friend. She kept moving her hands around Susan's round, squishy orbs, like the hands of a clock, grazing her fingers underneath, on top and over their sides. With every pass, Brenda got closer and closer Susan's rock hard nipples.
“You are such a tickly little girl, a tickly little helpless girl! And I'm going to do this to you for as long as I can,” Brenda whispered, lost in the joy of the moment. The feel of Susan's pert breasts was electric, the sound of her bouncy laughter washing over her was like heaven. It was such a perfect moment.
Susan, of course, wouldn't have agreed. All she could do was pour her suffering into her laughter, shriek after hysterical shriek forcing its way out of her mouth. But even as it tickled, the tender touch on her boobs felt so good. Never had she had them handled so expertly, so delicately. The boys she had dated hadn't understood the concept of foreplay well. After a few clumsy grasps at her tits, they had quickly moved on to other parts of her body.
As Brenda's fingers grew close to her nipples, Susan's free hand was sliding down her belly, getting close and close to her groin. Even as her laughter grew and grew, so did her pleasure. She was losing control.
So was Brenda, her tickles were becoming more and more like caresses, hands brushing Susan's boobs more and more passionately. Moans and groans started becoming mixed in with Susan's laughter, every sound she made becoming more throaty, more guttural.
Then Brenda's hands touched Susan's rock hard nipples. And both woman's worlds exploded.
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