"Please act like you're sad, will you?" Pacheco warned his wife Francine as they sat in a church pew.
"Why the hell should I?" Francine scoffed, shooting her brown doe eyes at Pacheco's murky green ones, "your **** of an aunt did nothing but abuse you your whole life."
"SHHH! We're in public dear," Pacheco reminded her, stroking her long blonde hair. He felt lucky having a woman like her, with her slim frame, slender legs and small breasts, which was his preference. Despite her tendency to inappropriately speak her mind and her love of tickling and insult comedy, she never bullied him about his weight besides a few good natured fat jokes. He took a longer look at her form-fitting dress which exposes her perfect legs and gorgeous collarbone and he wished that he was half as confident with his body as she was with hers.
"Yo fatass!" A young man leaned over to Pacheco and Francine from the pew behind them. "How's my big cousin and his trophy wife?"
"Nice to see you again, Albert..." Pacheco replies, looking down with his face pink.
Francine gets behind her husband and wraps her arms around him, rubbing his stomach and making him flinch.
"Well Albert," she purred, "this fatass just tends to make THIS trophy wife horny." She proceeded to slip her fingers under his dress shirt and jammed her fingers in his ribs, causing him to squeal.
"Everyone, please take a seat," the priest announced, "we must start giving our respects."
Pacheco pushed Francine off of him right before Albert decided to deliver his eulogy. As the cousin fibbed about how great his late mother was, Francine lay on Pacheco's lap and slipped a finger down her husband's side and made circles, making him flinch and whimper, stifling his giggles. The more circles she made on his soft waist, the more ticklish the sensation was and he struggled to get away from his wife's tickling finger. Unfortunately, he couldn't get too far without the risk of calling attention. It felt like he was tied up, leaving all ticklish parts exposed yet forbidden to laugh. It definitely didn't help that he was aroused by his wife being so close to his crotch, making the sensitivity much worse. He was stuck having to endure Francine's skilled finger, which moved to his underarm. He jolted hard and wheezed when the finger wiggled into his armpit,causing him to kick the back of the pew in front of him as he covered his mouth with his hands. Francine then decided to use both of her hands and attack his most ticklish spot, which was his belly. Pacheco gasped hard and groaned loudly through his teeth as the dainty yet strong fingers pressed through his flesh and wiggled like bug legs.
"Francine...please...it tickles too much...I'm going to laugh at a funeral for god's sake." Pacheco was now panting and tears were streaming down his face.
The priest noticed Pacheco's crying and stopped Albert's speech.
"Don't worry son. This is a safe place to let your feelings show. There is no need to show that you're a man."
Pacheco thought about his situation, then decided to laugh because it sounds like crying anyway. When he screamed, bucked and cry-laughed, everyone starting crying as well, not knowing what was really going on. Francine decided to use this to her advantage and started stroking his crotch through his pants with one hand, working on his belly with the other. Pacheco was now moaning, crying and laughing all at the same time, looking like a hysterical wriggling lunatic controlled by the fingertips of his beautiful yet dangerous wife. The tickle-stroking continued for a good ten minutes, until Francine finally kissed his neck, causing him to orgasm. Pacheco looked around, grabbed his wife's hand and snuck out of the church.
When the couple got home, Francine received a harsh scolding from Pacheco about what she did.
"Whatever dear," Francine rolled her eyes, "we both know that was the best orgasm you ever had."
"That's it!" her husband snapped, "You're sleeping on the couch tonight!"
And so she did.
The End.
"Why the hell should I?" Francine scoffed, shooting her brown doe eyes at Pacheco's murky green ones, "your **** of an aunt did nothing but abuse you your whole life."
"SHHH! We're in public dear," Pacheco reminded her, stroking her long blonde hair. He felt lucky having a woman like her, with her slim frame, slender legs and small breasts, which was his preference. Despite her tendency to inappropriately speak her mind and her love of tickling and insult comedy, she never bullied him about his weight besides a few good natured fat jokes. He took a longer look at her form-fitting dress which exposes her perfect legs and gorgeous collarbone and he wished that he was half as confident with his body as she was with hers.
"Yo fatass!" A young man leaned over to Pacheco and Francine from the pew behind them. "How's my big cousin and his trophy wife?"
"Nice to see you again, Albert..." Pacheco replies, looking down with his face pink.
Francine gets behind her husband and wraps her arms around him, rubbing his stomach and making him flinch.
"Well Albert," she purred, "this fatass just tends to make THIS trophy wife horny." She proceeded to slip her fingers under his dress shirt and jammed her fingers in his ribs, causing him to squeal.
"Everyone, please take a seat," the priest announced, "we must start giving our respects."
Pacheco pushed Francine off of him right before Albert decided to deliver his eulogy. As the cousin fibbed about how great his late mother was, Francine lay on Pacheco's lap and slipped a finger down her husband's side and made circles, making him flinch and whimper, stifling his giggles. The more circles she made on his soft waist, the more ticklish the sensation was and he struggled to get away from his wife's tickling finger. Unfortunately, he couldn't get too far without the risk of calling attention. It felt like he was tied up, leaving all ticklish parts exposed yet forbidden to laugh. It definitely didn't help that he was aroused by his wife being so close to his crotch, making the sensitivity much worse. He was stuck having to endure Francine's skilled finger, which moved to his underarm. He jolted hard and wheezed when the finger wiggled into his armpit,causing him to kick the back of the pew in front of him as he covered his mouth with his hands. Francine then decided to use both of her hands and attack his most ticklish spot, which was his belly. Pacheco gasped hard and groaned loudly through his teeth as the dainty yet strong fingers pressed through his flesh and wiggled like bug legs.
"Francine...please...it tickles too much...I'm going to laugh at a funeral for god's sake." Pacheco was now panting and tears were streaming down his face.
The priest noticed Pacheco's crying and stopped Albert's speech.
"Don't worry son. This is a safe place to let your feelings show. There is no need to show that you're a man."
Pacheco thought about his situation, then decided to laugh because it sounds like crying anyway. When he screamed, bucked and cry-laughed, everyone starting crying as well, not knowing what was really going on. Francine decided to use this to her advantage and started stroking his crotch through his pants with one hand, working on his belly with the other. Pacheco was now moaning, crying and laughing all at the same time, looking like a hysterical wriggling lunatic controlled by the fingertips of his beautiful yet dangerous wife. The tickle-stroking continued for a good ten minutes, until Francine finally kissed his neck, causing him to orgasm. Pacheco looked around, grabbed his wife's hand and snuck out of the church.
When the couple got home, Francine received a harsh scolding from Pacheco about what she did.
"Whatever dear," Francine rolled her eyes, "we both know that was the best orgasm you ever had."
"That's it!" her husband snapped, "You're sleeping on the couch tonight!"
And so she did.
The End.
