HisFlyinFingers
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Aug 9, 2005
- Messages
- 163
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Parts One, Two, and Three.
One benefit to our day with the Millers was that it gave Jenn and me some new ideas. When I told her how the spanking and dirty talk had made me feel, it wasn’t long before I found myself bent over her knee. And when she discovered how tender and ticklish my butt could be after she spanked me, Jenn liked it, too. I didn’t know whether I was in heaven or hell.
But more and more, I wanted to be properly tied up. Not just with the simple straps she had, but with actual rope. We tried, but Jenn wasn’t very good with knots, and I inevitably wriggled out of whatever she tied. Both of us were left frustrated. At least, until Molly came for a visit.
Molly, Jenn explained to me, was Jenn’s friend from college. Not just any friend, though; Molly was the one who, when they were both freshmen and sharing a dorm room, convinced Jenn to try being tied up. Once Jenn was bound hand and foot to a chair, Molly peeled off Jenn’s socks and introduced her to tickling. The way Jenn described her, she was a nasty tickler and a genius with knots. Well, how could I say no to that?
We met Molly and her boyfriend, David, at a bar she and Jenn used to frequent. Molly was about the same height as Jenn, but with the curvy, hourglass figure of a classic pinup girl. Her hair was fiery red and her skin porcelain-white, except for the constellation of freckles around her nose. She greeted Jenn with a big smile and a bigger hug.
David was a lot more reserved—skinny, with a shy smile and brown hair almost as long as mine. As soon as I met them, I could picture Molly tying him up and making him beg. And I had a sneaking suspicion he loved it.
We sat at the bar, Jenn and Molly in the middle, David and I next to our respective girlfriends. The conversation was light and playful, but as the night wore on and the bar got louder, the two old friends leaned in closer and closer to each other, and I found it harder and harder to keep up. Forcing myself to not feel left out, I got up and moved to the stool on the other side of David.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey.”
I glanced across him, at our girlfriends’ conspiratorial conversation. “So, they’re really going to torture us, huh?”
After a pregnant second, he started chuckling. “Oh, good. I was afraid it’d be three-on-one.”
We both laughed. “No,” I said. “I can’t keep up with Jenn; she always gets the better of me.”
“Yeah. Even two-on-two I don’t like our odds,” he said.
I couldn’t suppress my smile. “Not that I have any intention of fighting back.”
We both turned to look at our more dominant halves. Jenn shot a suspicious look back, but didn’t break their private conversation.
David turned back to me. “OK, this might be too personal a question, so apologies in advance. But what’s the worst she’s ever gotten you?”
I blushed hard and bit my lower lip. After a quick glance around to make sure no one in the crowded bar could overhear, I leaned in and said, “It was a feather … um … between my legs. I pretty much cried.”
“Yikes,” he said, nodding. “Once, Molly climbed on top of me and told me she wouldn’t stop tickling until I came. That was a long night.”
“Oh god. That sounds … horrible and amazing at the same time.”
“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I suspect if our girls have their way, tonight will be the new answer for both of us.”
I shivered. Though, some small part of me hoped he was right.
We all convoyed to Jenn’s place. I was starting to get that warm, nervous feeling that was becoming so familiar. When we arrived, David gave me a pointed look before pulling a large duffel bag out of the trunk. He and I were impatient to start, but Jenn and Molly weren’t done reminiscing, and they continued their conversation for another half hour.
“All right, Jenn,” Molly said finally. “I think it’s time we get things started.”
Jenn smiled. “It’s your show. Where do you want us?”
“Why don’t you and Becca get ready in your bedroom; I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
I immediately noticed that she didn’t say David would be joining us; his look indicated he’d noticed it too. But I preferred not to ask any questions as I followed Jenn back to her room. As soon as the door closed, she pounced, dragging me onto the bed. She pinned me down, kissing me and pulling my clothes off. I returned in kind, helping her out of her shirt and bra. We were both breathing heavy. She climbed off me so she could remove her own shoes, socks, and jeans. I followed suit, only to have her pounce on me again and start tickling my newly exposed skin.
As I was squealing and laughing from the unexpected attack to my ribs, the door opened. Molly came in with the duffel bag and a big smile. Jenn helped me to my feet.
“I’ve got a presents for you,” Molly announced, handing each of us a small package: thigh-high stockings. “Jenn told me your size,” she added. “Now put them on; we don’t want to make David wait.”
I’ve never been a stockings or pantyhose kind of girl—I’ve always found jeans and sneakers more comfortable. But then, I’ve never been ordered to wear stockings by a woman who intended to tie me up, so I suppose context is important. Jenn’s stockings were a light tan color, and mine were a darker brown. As Jenn and I pulled them on, Molly began stripping off her own clothes. She quickly changed into a pair of lacy black underwear and—with a bit of help from Jenn and I—put on a red and black corset. It was like a more ostentatious version of what Jenn had worn the first time she “punished” me, and Molly looked sexy as hell in it.
“Hands behind your back,” she ordered. I was a little surprised to see Jenn follow the instruction too, but that just made things more interesting. Molly worked quickly, pulling a soft brown rope from the bag and starting with Jenn. I couldn’t quite follow the intricacies of what she was doing, but the rope crossed Jenn’s chest above and below her breasts, and wound behind her back in a way that pinned her arms to her sides. The rope also wrapped around her wrists, pinning them to the middle of her back. It was impressive-looking, and beautiful in a way. It emphasized Jenn’s figure, in sort of the same way Molly’s corset did hers. It was also, I was able to confirm because my turn came next, very tight and very secure.
Molly gathered my hair and tied it into a ponytail with a black ribbon. Then she pulled out a roll of black tape. “This stuff is great, by the way—doesn’t stick to skin or hair. I’ll send you a link when I get back home.”
“That would be perfect,” Jenn said. It was funny to see them trading tips while Jenn was tied up. Molly knelt in front of Jenn and pulled her underwear down. Jenn carefully stepped out of the underwear, and Molly balled it up, then turned to me.
“Open your mouth.” Her tone made me think I’d regret it if she needed to ask again. I opened my mouth, and she stuffed in Jenn’s underwear. She wrapped the tape about three times around my head, sealing the gag. She then repeated the process in reverse, gagging Jenn with my underwear. Molly then picked up her discarded underwear from the pile of clothes on the floor, and carried it, the tape, and the duffel bag out of the room. I started to follow, but Jenn shook her head. Molly returned a minute later, grabbed each of us by the hair, and led us into the living room.
One of Jenn’s wooden kitchen chairs had been pulled into the middle of the living room. On it, tightly bound, gagged, and completely naked, sat David. His arms were bound behind his back, his ankles were tied to the rear legs of the chair, and a few coils of rope held his torso to the back. He was also gagged with the same tape we were, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was behind the gag. He was the first naked man I’d ever seen up close, and I could’ve never imagined this would be how I’d see one. He squirmed a bit in his bonds when we appeared; I don’t know what the three of us looked like from his point of view, but his erection gave me a hint.
“What do you think, slave?” Molly asked. “You’re pretty lucky, getting to watch me play with these two, aren’t you?” David nodded quickly. Jenn and I, with Molly’s help, lay on our stomachs on the carpet. She hogtied us both, crossing our ankles and pulling our feet up to our butts. I wriggled as much as I could, waiting for the ropes to inevitably loosen and fall away the way they always had when Jenn tied me. But they didn’t, and the effort left me winded but no less helpless. The way my ankles were tied, I couldn’t even close my legs. I looked toward Jenn, who was squirming too. She really did look beautiful, trussed up as she was. I thought she was smiling, but with the lower half of her face covered in tape it was impossible to really tell.
From my vantage point on the floor, I had a perfect (if neck-straining) view of Molly’s feet and butt as she knelt in front of David. Her soles were a rosy pink that contrasted beautifully with the milky white of her thighs. Her body blocked me from seeing what she was doing, and I couldn’t tell from the way David was groaning whether it felt good or bad. Perhaps he didn’t know himself. When she stood and walked around behind him, I got a glimpse of her handiwork: a thin cord now wound tightly around his erection.
She knelt behind him now, and brought her long red nails into contact with his bare feet. He flipped out, grunting and screaming and shaking his head. I got the distinct impression that he was very ticklish, or she was a good tickler, or both. His long hair whipped around his face. I closed my eyes and thought about what it must’ve felt like. I wondered whether I’d be next. I knew without a doubt that she’d get to me eventually; that I’d have no way to stop or avoid the inevitable tickle torture.
“Now slave,” Molly said finally. “Have I ever told you about the first time I tied up my poor, innocent friend Jenn?” David was still struggling to catch his breath, but he managed to shake his head. Molly strolled seductively toward my bound girlfriend. “She was so eager to try new things, and she had no idea what was coming.” Molly knelt next to Jenn and ran her fingers through Jenn’s short black hair. “By the time my fingers touched her feet, it was too late. She was powerless to stop me from tickling her. I wonder if these cute little feet of hers are still as ticklish as they used to be?”
Molly’s long nails dragged across Jenn’s right foot. Jenn was trying to hold back the giggles, and I expected Molly to dig in and really make her laugh. But she just kept slowly teasing. I think she knew Jenn couldn’t hold out forever, and she wanted us—all of us, since David and I were watching attentively—to know that she was willing to take her time. As her nails scratched lightly over Jenn’s stockinged soles, Jenn’s struggles grew more frantic, until she was giggling freely and trying in vain to avoid Molly’s touch.
As I watched this scene unfold, the anticipation became almost unbearable. The way the rope bit into my skin ever so lightly every time I squirmed, and especially the way it squeezed my breasts, kept me teetering, almost dizzy with need. I wanted Molly to untie Jenn, so that they could both touch me and tease me and tickle me into complete submission. I wanted most of all, for one of them to give me the release I desperately craved. Molly finally sped things up; her nails danced over every inch of vulnerable skin as Jenn thrashed uselessly. I lay there, wishing I could be tortured with all the conflicting, confusing feelings I always got when I was tied up.
“Becca, are you enjoying this?” Molly asked. It took me a minute to even register she was speaking to me. I nodded. “Jenn tells me you’re the most perfect little pet ever. I want you to prove it. Come over to me and offer yourself up for tickling.”
I, um. Wow. I felt all sorts of ways about that. That was the sort of thing that would’ve taken me a long time to process, mentally and emotionally, if I were in a position and mindset to actually think about it. But my body moved before my brain did, and I was scooting, squirming, and shuffling toward Molly. The distance was only three or four feet. But when you’re making that journey inch by inch; and every motion takes all the strength you can muster; and the way the carpet feels as it rubs against your sensitive nipples makes you want to scream; and your whole body tingles, down to the cellular level, with the knowledge that you’re wriggling not toward freedom and relief but toward more torture; and yet the need to obey, to please, is so dire that you couldn’t bear to even imagine stopping; the whole thing feels a lot farther. Like, a lot farther.
“Good pet,” Molly said. “Very good job.” Before I had time to let those words fill me with pride, though, her nails were on my feet.
I don’t know if it was the stockings, or her nails, or all the conflicting emotions of exhaustion and frustration and embarrassment and helplessness and arousal—it was probably all of these put together, honestly—but my feet seemed more sensitive than usual. I kicked and flailed, as much as the rope would allow, but I couldn’t get away. My whole body was aching, the muscle strain in my arms and legs combining with the heat in my stomach to make me feel like I was on fire everywhere. She held my ankle with one hand and spidered her evil nails up and down, from my toes to my heel and back. I squealed and bucked until I was out of breath, but she didn’t stop.
Thoughts, or the closest thing to thoughts I could muster in that moment, raced through my brain. ‘Oh god, that tickles!’ ‘I asked for this; I begged for this.’ ‘Please, please touch me.’ ‘Shit, shit, she’s between my toes!’ ‘Where’s Jenn?’ ‘If Molly asked me to worship her feet right now, I might die from the shame and the horniness.’ ‘Is it possible to die from horniness?’ ‘Is it possible to orgasm from tickling?’ None of this lasted long enough for me to hold onto it; thoughts blinked off and on like fireflies in the night. ‘Am I going crazy?’
I looked up and realized Jenn was free—I’d been so distracted I hadn’t seen Molly untie her. She was kneeling behind David, squeezing his ribs, with a wide smile and a look of glee in her eye. He, naturally, was bucking and grunting out muffled pleas for mercy.
Molly’s nails left my feet, and started scribbling down by my knees. They traveled slowly, up my inner thighs, teasing me. They danced across my stockinged thighs, making me bounce and quiver. Her fingers reached the upper limit of the stockings; began prodding and stimulating the sensitive bare skin beyond. I could feel her hands between my legs. I could almost rub up against her if I moved my hips right. I needed it too much to be ashamed.
Then Molly was gone, and I was spinning, and I felt wrapped up and warm, and fingers inside me, and the orgasm jolted through my body like an electric shock. I opened my eyes to see Jenn’s beautiful face smiling down on me. She was cradling me in her arms, her hand rubbing away the last ripples of pleasure between my legs.
Molly’s head was between David’s legs. The cord that had squeezed his erection now lay on the floor next to them, and his head was thrown back in a posture of absolute release. When he finished, she rubbed his shoulders and kissed his forehead. The tenderness of it made my eyes well up—though I was so emotionally wrung out at that point I would’ve cried at anything. Jenn, still holding me tight in her arms, began loosening the knots and setting me free.
My only regret is that Molly and David left too soon. I was still floating when they gathered their things. I hugged each of them as tight as I could, and I might’ve even said ‘bye’, but bigger words were out of my reach. In a few days, I would send them a message to tell them how wonderful it’d been. But all I could do right then was wave weakly as they climbed into their car, and let Jenn lead me to bed.
One benefit to our day with the Millers was that it gave Jenn and me some new ideas. When I told her how the spanking and dirty talk had made me feel, it wasn’t long before I found myself bent over her knee. And when she discovered how tender and ticklish my butt could be after she spanked me, Jenn liked it, too. I didn’t know whether I was in heaven or hell.
But more and more, I wanted to be properly tied up. Not just with the simple straps she had, but with actual rope. We tried, but Jenn wasn’t very good with knots, and I inevitably wriggled out of whatever she tied. Both of us were left frustrated. At least, until Molly came for a visit.
Molly, Jenn explained to me, was Jenn’s friend from college. Not just any friend, though; Molly was the one who, when they were both freshmen and sharing a dorm room, convinced Jenn to try being tied up. Once Jenn was bound hand and foot to a chair, Molly peeled off Jenn’s socks and introduced her to tickling. The way Jenn described her, she was a nasty tickler and a genius with knots. Well, how could I say no to that?
We met Molly and her boyfriend, David, at a bar she and Jenn used to frequent. Molly was about the same height as Jenn, but with the curvy, hourglass figure of a classic pinup girl. Her hair was fiery red and her skin porcelain-white, except for the constellation of freckles around her nose. She greeted Jenn with a big smile and a bigger hug.
David was a lot more reserved—skinny, with a shy smile and brown hair almost as long as mine. As soon as I met them, I could picture Molly tying him up and making him beg. And I had a sneaking suspicion he loved it.
We sat at the bar, Jenn and Molly in the middle, David and I next to our respective girlfriends. The conversation was light and playful, but as the night wore on and the bar got louder, the two old friends leaned in closer and closer to each other, and I found it harder and harder to keep up. Forcing myself to not feel left out, I got up and moved to the stool on the other side of David.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey.”
I glanced across him, at our girlfriends’ conspiratorial conversation. “So, they’re really going to torture us, huh?”
After a pregnant second, he started chuckling. “Oh, good. I was afraid it’d be three-on-one.”
We both laughed. “No,” I said. “I can’t keep up with Jenn; she always gets the better of me.”
“Yeah. Even two-on-two I don’t like our odds,” he said.
I couldn’t suppress my smile. “Not that I have any intention of fighting back.”
We both turned to look at our more dominant halves. Jenn shot a suspicious look back, but didn’t break their private conversation.
David turned back to me. “OK, this might be too personal a question, so apologies in advance. But what’s the worst she’s ever gotten you?”
I blushed hard and bit my lower lip. After a quick glance around to make sure no one in the crowded bar could overhear, I leaned in and said, “It was a feather … um … between my legs. I pretty much cried.”
“Yikes,” he said, nodding. “Once, Molly climbed on top of me and told me she wouldn’t stop tickling until I came. That was a long night.”
“Oh god. That sounds … horrible and amazing at the same time.”
“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I suspect if our girls have their way, tonight will be the new answer for both of us.”
I shivered. Though, some small part of me hoped he was right.
We all convoyed to Jenn’s place. I was starting to get that warm, nervous feeling that was becoming so familiar. When we arrived, David gave me a pointed look before pulling a large duffel bag out of the trunk. He and I were impatient to start, but Jenn and Molly weren’t done reminiscing, and they continued their conversation for another half hour.
“All right, Jenn,” Molly said finally. “I think it’s time we get things started.”
Jenn smiled. “It’s your show. Where do you want us?”
“Why don’t you and Becca get ready in your bedroom; I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
I immediately noticed that she didn’t say David would be joining us; his look indicated he’d noticed it too. But I preferred not to ask any questions as I followed Jenn back to her room. As soon as the door closed, she pounced, dragging me onto the bed. She pinned me down, kissing me and pulling my clothes off. I returned in kind, helping her out of her shirt and bra. We were both breathing heavy. She climbed off me so she could remove her own shoes, socks, and jeans. I followed suit, only to have her pounce on me again and start tickling my newly exposed skin.
As I was squealing and laughing from the unexpected attack to my ribs, the door opened. Molly came in with the duffel bag and a big smile. Jenn helped me to my feet.
“I’ve got a presents for you,” Molly announced, handing each of us a small package: thigh-high stockings. “Jenn told me your size,” she added. “Now put them on; we don’t want to make David wait.”
I’ve never been a stockings or pantyhose kind of girl—I’ve always found jeans and sneakers more comfortable. But then, I’ve never been ordered to wear stockings by a woman who intended to tie me up, so I suppose context is important. Jenn’s stockings were a light tan color, and mine were a darker brown. As Jenn and I pulled them on, Molly began stripping off her own clothes. She quickly changed into a pair of lacy black underwear and—with a bit of help from Jenn and I—put on a red and black corset. It was like a more ostentatious version of what Jenn had worn the first time she “punished” me, and Molly looked sexy as hell in it.
“Hands behind your back,” she ordered. I was a little surprised to see Jenn follow the instruction too, but that just made things more interesting. Molly worked quickly, pulling a soft brown rope from the bag and starting with Jenn. I couldn’t quite follow the intricacies of what she was doing, but the rope crossed Jenn’s chest above and below her breasts, and wound behind her back in a way that pinned her arms to her sides. The rope also wrapped around her wrists, pinning them to the middle of her back. It was impressive-looking, and beautiful in a way. It emphasized Jenn’s figure, in sort of the same way Molly’s corset did hers. It was also, I was able to confirm because my turn came next, very tight and very secure.
Molly gathered my hair and tied it into a ponytail with a black ribbon. Then she pulled out a roll of black tape. “This stuff is great, by the way—doesn’t stick to skin or hair. I’ll send you a link when I get back home.”
“That would be perfect,” Jenn said. It was funny to see them trading tips while Jenn was tied up. Molly knelt in front of Jenn and pulled her underwear down. Jenn carefully stepped out of the underwear, and Molly balled it up, then turned to me.
“Open your mouth.” Her tone made me think I’d regret it if she needed to ask again. I opened my mouth, and she stuffed in Jenn’s underwear. She wrapped the tape about three times around my head, sealing the gag. She then repeated the process in reverse, gagging Jenn with my underwear. Molly then picked up her discarded underwear from the pile of clothes on the floor, and carried it, the tape, and the duffel bag out of the room. I started to follow, but Jenn shook her head. Molly returned a minute later, grabbed each of us by the hair, and led us into the living room.
One of Jenn’s wooden kitchen chairs had been pulled into the middle of the living room. On it, tightly bound, gagged, and completely naked, sat David. His arms were bound behind his back, his ankles were tied to the rear legs of the chair, and a few coils of rope held his torso to the back. He was also gagged with the same tape we were, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was behind the gag. He was the first naked man I’d ever seen up close, and I could’ve never imagined this would be how I’d see one. He squirmed a bit in his bonds when we appeared; I don’t know what the three of us looked like from his point of view, but his erection gave me a hint.
“What do you think, slave?” Molly asked. “You’re pretty lucky, getting to watch me play with these two, aren’t you?” David nodded quickly. Jenn and I, with Molly’s help, lay on our stomachs on the carpet. She hogtied us both, crossing our ankles and pulling our feet up to our butts. I wriggled as much as I could, waiting for the ropes to inevitably loosen and fall away the way they always had when Jenn tied me. But they didn’t, and the effort left me winded but no less helpless. The way my ankles were tied, I couldn’t even close my legs. I looked toward Jenn, who was squirming too. She really did look beautiful, trussed up as she was. I thought she was smiling, but with the lower half of her face covered in tape it was impossible to really tell.
From my vantage point on the floor, I had a perfect (if neck-straining) view of Molly’s feet and butt as she knelt in front of David. Her soles were a rosy pink that contrasted beautifully with the milky white of her thighs. Her body blocked me from seeing what she was doing, and I couldn’t tell from the way David was groaning whether it felt good or bad. Perhaps he didn’t know himself. When she stood and walked around behind him, I got a glimpse of her handiwork: a thin cord now wound tightly around his erection.
She knelt behind him now, and brought her long red nails into contact with his bare feet. He flipped out, grunting and screaming and shaking his head. I got the distinct impression that he was very ticklish, or she was a good tickler, or both. His long hair whipped around his face. I closed my eyes and thought about what it must’ve felt like. I wondered whether I’d be next. I knew without a doubt that she’d get to me eventually; that I’d have no way to stop or avoid the inevitable tickle torture.
“Now slave,” Molly said finally. “Have I ever told you about the first time I tied up my poor, innocent friend Jenn?” David was still struggling to catch his breath, but he managed to shake his head. Molly strolled seductively toward my bound girlfriend. “She was so eager to try new things, and she had no idea what was coming.” Molly knelt next to Jenn and ran her fingers through Jenn’s short black hair. “By the time my fingers touched her feet, it was too late. She was powerless to stop me from tickling her. I wonder if these cute little feet of hers are still as ticklish as they used to be?”
Molly’s long nails dragged across Jenn’s right foot. Jenn was trying to hold back the giggles, and I expected Molly to dig in and really make her laugh. But she just kept slowly teasing. I think she knew Jenn couldn’t hold out forever, and she wanted us—all of us, since David and I were watching attentively—to know that she was willing to take her time. As her nails scratched lightly over Jenn’s stockinged soles, Jenn’s struggles grew more frantic, until she was giggling freely and trying in vain to avoid Molly’s touch.
As I watched this scene unfold, the anticipation became almost unbearable. The way the rope bit into my skin ever so lightly every time I squirmed, and especially the way it squeezed my breasts, kept me teetering, almost dizzy with need. I wanted Molly to untie Jenn, so that they could both touch me and tease me and tickle me into complete submission. I wanted most of all, for one of them to give me the release I desperately craved. Molly finally sped things up; her nails danced over every inch of vulnerable skin as Jenn thrashed uselessly. I lay there, wishing I could be tortured with all the conflicting, confusing feelings I always got when I was tied up.
“Becca, are you enjoying this?” Molly asked. It took me a minute to even register she was speaking to me. I nodded. “Jenn tells me you’re the most perfect little pet ever. I want you to prove it. Come over to me and offer yourself up for tickling.”
I, um. Wow. I felt all sorts of ways about that. That was the sort of thing that would’ve taken me a long time to process, mentally and emotionally, if I were in a position and mindset to actually think about it. But my body moved before my brain did, and I was scooting, squirming, and shuffling toward Molly. The distance was only three or four feet. But when you’re making that journey inch by inch; and every motion takes all the strength you can muster; and the way the carpet feels as it rubs against your sensitive nipples makes you want to scream; and your whole body tingles, down to the cellular level, with the knowledge that you’re wriggling not toward freedom and relief but toward more torture; and yet the need to obey, to please, is so dire that you couldn’t bear to even imagine stopping; the whole thing feels a lot farther. Like, a lot farther.
“Good pet,” Molly said. “Very good job.” Before I had time to let those words fill me with pride, though, her nails were on my feet.
I don’t know if it was the stockings, or her nails, or all the conflicting emotions of exhaustion and frustration and embarrassment and helplessness and arousal—it was probably all of these put together, honestly—but my feet seemed more sensitive than usual. I kicked and flailed, as much as the rope would allow, but I couldn’t get away. My whole body was aching, the muscle strain in my arms and legs combining with the heat in my stomach to make me feel like I was on fire everywhere. She held my ankle with one hand and spidered her evil nails up and down, from my toes to my heel and back. I squealed and bucked until I was out of breath, but she didn’t stop.
Thoughts, or the closest thing to thoughts I could muster in that moment, raced through my brain. ‘Oh god, that tickles!’ ‘I asked for this; I begged for this.’ ‘Please, please touch me.’ ‘Shit, shit, she’s between my toes!’ ‘Where’s Jenn?’ ‘If Molly asked me to worship her feet right now, I might die from the shame and the horniness.’ ‘Is it possible to die from horniness?’ ‘Is it possible to orgasm from tickling?’ None of this lasted long enough for me to hold onto it; thoughts blinked off and on like fireflies in the night. ‘Am I going crazy?’
I looked up and realized Jenn was free—I’d been so distracted I hadn’t seen Molly untie her. She was kneeling behind David, squeezing his ribs, with a wide smile and a look of glee in her eye. He, naturally, was bucking and grunting out muffled pleas for mercy.
Molly’s nails left my feet, and started scribbling down by my knees. They traveled slowly, up my inner thighs, teasing me. They danced across my stockinged thighs, making me bounce and quiver. Her fingers reached the upper limit of the stockings; began prodding and stimulating the sensitive bare skin beyond. I could feel her hands between my legs. I could almost rub up against her if I moved my hips right. I needed it too much to be ashamed.
Then Molly was gone, and I was spinning, and I felt wrapped up and warm, and fingers inside me, and the orgasm jolted through my body like an electric shock. I opened my eyes to see Jenn’s beautiful face smiling down on me. She was cradling me in her arms, her hand rubbing away the last ripples of pleasure between my legs.
Molly’s head was between David’s legs. The cord that had squeezed his erection now lay on the floor next to them, and his head was thrown back in a posture of absolute release. When he finished, she rubbed his shoulders and kissed his forehead. The tenderness of it made my eyes well up—though I was so emotionally wrung out at that point I would’ve cried at anything. Jenn, still holding me tight in her arms, began loosening the knots and setting me free.
My only regret is that Molly and David left too soon. I was still floating when they gathered their things. I hugged each of them as tight as I could, and I might’ve even said ‘bye’, but bigger words were out of my reach. In a few days, I would send them a message to tell them how wonderful it’d been. But all I could do right then was wave weakly as they climbed into their car, and let Jenn lead me to bed.
