BrokNBstUvm
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- May 10, 2001
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***This is one I posted on the old TMF last summer and never had a chance to finish until recently. Better late than never, hey?***
My first story. Never would I have considered writing this story had it not actually happened, mainly because even I couldn’t drum up some stuff like this just on a whim. Basically, these incidents were part of a weeklong event I experienced a few weeks ago in New Orleans during Mardi Gras, 2001. The whole reason I was there was not really for the celebrations, I was moving some furniture for friends while they were in Asia. I told them I’d just watch the place for the ten days they were gone, making the trip more of a vacation. They loved the idea almost as much as I did. A huge three bedroom beachfront house? Come on, already…I couldn’t wait!
--**Be forewarned: I’m telling it like it went, so it’s LONG, and detailed. You have to wait for the tickling parts JUST like I did, so read it all and you’ll thank me when it’s over.
ALSO, there is some detailed sex in this story.
One Of Them Days
It was Tuesday night in New Orleans (I arrived the previous Sunday), and I was with a friend, Shelly, that I had brought with me for the long haul. She was an eighteen-year-old college girl with long, straight brown hair, and the cutest little-girl smile in the world. She was about 5-foot-4, and really thin, but very muscular. Every dude we saw would come up to her and run his game, so this chick knew she was f*n hot, and she had every right to. We were on our way to meet a friend of hers at a hotel suite nearby, and I guess we woke her up when we called the room. She said to come by anyway, since she hadn’t seen Shelly in a few years. We got to the room, and Shelly shrieked as her friend opened the door.
“JESSIE! Oh my GOD!”,
and they both hugged and did that little ‘excited-girls-dance’ that only girls are allowed to do.
“SHHH, shh, shhhh! They’re still sleeping…”, Jessie whispered, referring to her two friends inside, though one was now awake. I was happy to see that my prediction of multiple girls staying in this huge room was accurate.
“Come in, you guys. Who’s the little hottie?”,
I heard her whisper to Shelly as I closed the door behind us. “Jessica, meet Mark…Mark, this is Jessica. He’s the one I told you I came down with at the last minute”.
Kind of makes me sound like a disease, doesn’t it?
Anyway, so here I am hanging out with these four girls, now. Since the three are still in sleeping mode, I’m thinking I might see or hear some things normally hidden away from us fellas in ‘Slumber Party Heaven’ that we all know exists. “’Morniiing!”, said the awakened friend.
“Actually, it’s 10pm, but we’re with ya”, I chimed in.
She sat up against the headboard.
“That’s Tiffany”, Jessica sneered jokingly.
She was a 20-year-old blonde, 5’6”, maybe, with short, curly hair, messy from sleeping. She was relatively well proportioned from what I could tell, with her t-shirt stopping just above her waistline. Below her knees was underneath the covers at this time, unfortunately, but her very perky chest seemed to take up alot of my visual attention for the time being (typical guy shit). I was really anxious to see the rest of Tiffany and also the sleeping girl. I tried to get a look at her, but all I saw was thin blonde hair and the covered outline of a body that stretched close to the end of the bed. Her bed was first, so that’s where I parked my ass, even though there were plenty of chairs. I knew damn well that ‘where I sat and why’ was the last thing they were concerned with, so I took advantage of the sleeping beauty and sat against the wall on the bed with my legs across hers. I got comfortable and scanned the room for some ‘cool girly things’ while Jessica, was rambling on to Shelly about old times and High School, and past boyfriends and that sort of crap.
Jessica was also about 5’6”, highlighted Brown hair, and had about the same upper build as Tiffany. She wore a tight red tank-top, and knee-length cutoff sweats, which I hated, but she was barefoot, so that made up for it. Tiffany gradually directed her conversation to me, and we were rambling on as well. I got up after about fifteen minutes and stumbled across their still-unpacked floor to the bathroom, where I plotted how to get these chicks on a more open playing field, as I pissed like a racehorse: I would slowly begin to try and wake ‘friend 2’ one way or another, eventually letting on that she’s maybe ‘slept enough’ and her friends would wake her up for me. With this as my game-plan, I returned to my place on the bed, and I swear I projected my thoughts from the bathroom—#2’s awake, still covered up, with her head in Jessica’s lap. How cool is that? As I returned to my prime seat, I became totally engulfed in watching Jessica’s fingers running through #2’s silky blonde hair.
“HI! I’m AWAKE, now”, she said to me, in a scratchy but loud voice.
“ABOUT TIME!”, I shot back equally as loud.
“I’m Keri,” she said this time more quietly, stretching out her long bare arm, not even coming close to me to shake her hand.
“Nice to finally meet you, I’m Mark”, I said, and instead of leaning over to take her hand, I reached down and pulled the covers off her feet and gave her bare toes a little friendly shake. I felt like the entire room could tell just by looking that I was near heart failure. She giggled playfully and reached her long leg over to me and pushed my hip with her toes. I hooked her ankle and effortlessly held it in my lap. Heart still pounding, I said, “Mmmm, someone’s got really soft legs”, as I ran my fingers over her calf, “and reeely sexy feet.”
Keri’s eyes grew wide, as if she was delighted at my discovery.
Jessica was like, “Ewww, gross! I hate feet!”
“I love feet!”, Keri challenged, and I vocally agreed with her. “I could play with these feet for hours”, I said to Jessica, and with that, Keri lifted her other foot into my lap.
“Ready when you are”, she said. The love affair begins…!
The Torture
I immediately turned all my attention to flirting back and forth with Keri, but I found myself occasionally fielding questions from the now-very-aware-of-my-intentions Shelly. Shelly started asking things she already knew the answers to, like “did you lock the car”, and “what time is it”, shit like that, just to break up my momentum. She even went so far as to bring up a little wrestling episode we had a few days earlier. She just threw it out of the clear blue to try and change the subject in her favor, and probably to get Keri to maybe think twice about flirting with me. After all, Shelly is meeting Keri and Tiffany for the first time just like I am, and she knows first-hand about my foot fetish and my tickling fetish. Once she saw me pull the covers off Keri like that, she knew what I was starting. I backed off Keri and started to interact with Shelly a bit, mostly to keep from irritating her, but also because I heard her drop her clunky heels on the hard tiled floor. She didn’t look at me, but she smiled for me as she talked with Jessica. She knew I was going to be at my wits end watching her casually run her own nails over the tops of her feet as she sat barefoot and cross-legged on the bed, which now was home to her, myself, Keri and Jessica. Tiffany seemed quite content on her bed by herself, but I think she pulled out her own little Trump card by making sure I saw her move out of her covers and lay on her belly. I pretended not to be too ridiculously aroused, as hard as it was, since her boxer shorts she slept in were slid down a bit on her ass, and her purple thong was showing just enough to let me know that it was a thong. She kicked and swung her tiny little white-socked feet playfully in the air as we all talked back and forth (pardon me whilst I reflect………………....ok.)
Folks, I was really hurting at this point, as you can imagine. Two pairs of bare feet just inches from me, and swinging little white socks—they were the thin, tight ankle socks, too—right on the next bed, and Jessica’s bare feet barely visible, but almost touching Shelly’s knee. Have you ever wanted to just be able to freeze everyone in a room except you and one other person? Me too, all the time. So there I sat, my tortured self, praying for this madness to end either by everyone abruptly leaving to do something else or by satisfying my now-raging need to tickle-torture any or all of these girls for putting me through this (as if they have any idea, right?). Well…Shelly knew, dammit, and she was going to pay!
The Drive
Now, Shelly I’ve known for about a year, via mutual friends. We never dated, never exchanged numbers, never really talked about anything but our common friends, aside from the drunk bonding session we had the second time we met. I saw her about a week before my trip, and it just so happened that she was supposed to be in Jessica’s group for Mardis Gras during the same week, but their schedules conflicted and she had no way to catch a ride with them, and she won’t fly. I told her of my coincidental destination, and she was ecstatic with my offer to stay with me. The drive down was very comfortable, overall. We talked openly about all of the things we always wanted to cover with each other, including sex and relationships. I could tell by some of the things she said she was not a shy girl, in the least. Our journey was a bit maddening for me some of the time, though, like when she would slip her Adidas sandals off and put her bare feet up on the dashboard. “You don’t mind, do you”, she would ask every time, and of course I was like,
“Sweetheart, if you really want to be tortured later…”—naw, I didn’t say that…! Actually, I was like,
“Oh, go ahead, make yourself at home..”, but you know I was thinking the first answer! She wiggled and stretched her toes, tearing apart my will power and I fought every second not to stare too long. Occasionally she caught me fixating on them, I know she did, but she never said anything.
“I really hate this nail polish”, she said once, after a long period of silence between us. “I think I’ll change it when we get there”, she finished.
“I’ll paint them for you!”, I said, jokingly, to which she was very surprised.
“Really? You’d do that?” she squeaked.
“Oh, hell yeah”, I said, which opened the door for me to reveal my ‘little dark secret’. I didn’t really let on the intensity of it though, because I had plans for our trip down that might be ruined if I made her uncomfortable, so basically, I left out the whole ‘tickle-torture thing’, entirely. I just said that I have a serious weakness for girls’ feet, “and yours are on the top of my list right now.” She seemed flattered by my simple affection. Driving on, I waited until she was asleep to take a ‘bathroom break’ because I wanted to wake her up the way hot little barefooted girls are supposed to be woken up. I parked and waited to see if she woke up on her own. She didn’t. I got out and opened the side door where she slept on her back (I have an extended-cab pickup, so there’s a bench seat in the back) and gently ran my hands first over her toes, then over the tops of both her feet toward her ankles. No reaction. I came back up, this time with scratching fingers, and she jumped as I got to the base of her thin, purple-polished toes. Still not awake, she turned on her right side. Half of the job was done: she’s ticklish on her feet, now to explore other avenues. I leaned over her swishy jogging pants, and galloped my fingers lightly and quickly from her exposed bellybutton around to her lower back. She began smiling in her sleep, after I repeated this pattern a few times. By the fourth time I came around to her waist, her subconscious gave way and with a quick grab of my hand and an adorable little grunt, she was awake. And not amused.
The Promised Land
Our first few days in New Orleans were typical. We were feeling each other out mentally, which lead to comfortability, which gave way to physical interaction. The second night, we had our little wrestling gig, mentioned previously. Her demeanor this whole day was telling me that she was feeling a tad frisky, as every so often she would purposely make fun of me for no good reason just to get a rise out of me, even conjuring up this joke that I might be gay because I commented on some dude’s build (he was f*n ripped, man, you would’ve looked too). I kept telling her she was really ‘asking for it’, to which she just laughed her disbelief. We came back home after buying some groceries, and we just kind of relaxed. Shelly laid sideways in a chair stretching her back over its thick arm, her skinny body draped backwards towards the floor. I fixed myself on her tiny little perky breasts that I was soooooo dying to just brush up against, if not devour, so I made the first move toward physical contact. I got up and stood in front of her chair and admired her pierced belly.
“You still need your ass kicked, you know, for harassing me all day”, was all I said. She sat up, we lost the shoes, the jewelry, and the shirts (no shit, both of us. She was afraid of ripping hers) and we took one of two adjacent beds and went at it. Naturally, my whole goal was to pin this girl down and tickle her senseless, but as we fought for position, I found out that this was also her goal! Immediately, I felt her hard little nails dig into my underarm. I yelled out loud, and she quickly moved her hand down to wiggle inside my pants near my hipbone as I closed my arm.
“OH, YES! I LOVE it! FINALLY, a ticklish GUY”, Shelly yelled.
I totally loved it, so I let her tickle me as long as I could stand it--which was about ten seconds or so--then I fought her off. I was stiff as a board by now and I was afraid she would notice if I sat or laid on her. Soon, I had no choice in the matter; she pushed me back over my own ankle and sat on me, holding down my wrists. “I see someone likes to be tickled, huh?” she teased.
I played dumb and said, “Why do you say that?”.
She made her ass kind of slide slightly on my swollenness and she smiled, biting her lip.
“Oh. Well, I think that’s from seeing you in your bra...”, I said, just to cover myself.
“I don’t think so,” she sung out loud, and then quickly laid completely on top of me and shot both hands inside my jeans and tickled my hipbones as I struggled to get her off me. I was so delirious from the surprise of her attack, I was totally unable to get this pint-size chick off of me! I didn’t think that really happened, like all these stories say, but it does…I was almost powerless. Assisted by my loose-but-confining pants, Shelly kneaded her excited fingers on my abdomen until I could finally pull her hands out. She kneeled up, paused while I breathed and giggled, and immediately fell back on my knees. I sat up to grab hold of her, but she reached behind her back and those tickly nails found my bare feet. She had her way with them for a short moment, as I was loosely tangled in the bedspread, preventing me to sit all the way up.
“WAIT, WAIT, PLEASE, I’m STUCK,” I begged her. She tickled furiously on the bottoms of both feet while I raced to free my stupid ass from bondage.
She teased me briefly, “You are SO ticklish, I can’t believe it! I’m going to have to do this to you all the time now.”
I twisted loose after about fifteen seconds of struggling and ticklish paralysis and wrestled her to the floor where we made each other scream hysterically for another few minutes. We were sweating like mad, which was all the worse for my ‘penile condition’, because now her tiny mounds were glistening, her sweet ‘girly’ odor was stronger than ever, and she had her little hand inside my jeans, once again, even though she mercifully stopped tickling me. I was harder than a Calculus exam, for cryin’ out loud! She got up, figuring we were finished, so I played along and got up, too. She showered, then I showered with the hot water off. After we cleaned up, we were both getting changed in the same room at the same time. We were totally naked, and strangely, neither of us seemed to care.
“You know you’re gonna get it twice as bad, right?”, I said out of nowhere.
“Bring it on, f*ker!”, she said.
Oh, you better believe I was on that like a cheap suit. I snatched the towel from her wet hair, and threw her skinny little bra-and-pantied ass on the dry bed, and held nothing back. I wanted total immobility for maximum torture, so I sat on her waist, held both wrists with one hand, and without warning, teasing or any kind of buildup at all, dug my starving fingers into her soft, muscly armpits. She…freaked! Screamed like a banshee! I almost stopped immediately out of fear that the people next door might hear and call the f*n cops, but I continued tickling and tickling this poor, but deserving girl’s gorgeous armpits. Her big blue eyes were squeezed shut like I’d never seen.
“NO! No, no, no, no, no PLEEEASE! I’m SORRY”, she said after a minute or so of nonstop cackling laughter. “I’M SOOOO SORRY!”
I stopped to let her breathe, and to listen to her beg.
“Please, ok. I’m sorry. No more, please? I can’t take this”, she pleaded.
I was so turned on by her begging that I thought I was going to pass out.
“Sorry, huh? Ok, we’re even…for calling me f*er, but what about for tickling me to death earlier? Who’s paying for that,” I said calmly.
“No, not me, I won fair and square!” she said, demandingly.
“Ok, well I think we should see how much you like your little hips tickled!”
I flipped Shelly over onto her stomach, regripped her wrists, and laid face-down on her back.
“NO! NO!NO! NO! NO! NO!” She screamed over and over while I spent the next few minutes opening and closing my right fingers up and down her arm, ribs, waist and finally over her curvy ass—which made her squeal hysterically—where I followed her panties around to the front of her hips.
“Oooh. I found a new ticklish spot, didn’t I?”, referring to her tiny little butt.
“nooo…”, she whimpered, burying her face in the pillow preparing for her merciless punishment, as advertised.
I got close to her ear and said, “Sweetheart, I’m gonna tickle you soooooo f*ing bad right now, Shelly, you have no idea”.
“Please, no! I’ll do anything! Seriously, I WILL! Name it!” she pleaded.
“Like what”, I said. “What will you do for me that’s going to be more fun than making you scream and beg for me to stop tickling you? I can’t imagine what that could be”, I proclaimed.
“I don’t know…ANYTHING you want.”, she replied.
“Ok, what about, like…sex. You wouldn’t go that far, I know that. But that would definitely change the game.”
She looked back at me and said, “We’re both half naked, you’re hard as a rock and laying on top of me, my panties are soaking wet from feeling your dick pushed into my ass…I don’t think a good hard f*k is too much of a stretch, do you?”
Wow. The words of great poets have never painted pictures as clear as this little teenager just did. The English language is a beautiful thing, ain’t it?
“Well damn, girl,”, I replied, “if you’re offering to do that now, you won’t have much to offer when I ask you the same question in ten minutes when I’m finished tickling you to death!” And with that, I pressed her into the bed with my sadistic fingers wiggling on her belly and hips. An ear-piercing scream ushered in constant, but varied cackles and wild, breathless laughter. I must’ve tickled her in this one area for three minutes, at least. I whispered in her ear, cruelly teasing her while I tickled.
“You like that, sweety, hmmm? I think you do! You’ve been asking for this all day, haven’t you?”
She took one deep breath and emptied her lungs louder than I’ve ever heard anyone yell in a house: “PLEEEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEAAAaaase stoppitohmygod!”, then another deep breath followed to fuel her maniacal laughing. I switched from her hips back up to her ribs and then swirled my fingers on her ass through her silky panties for a minute-or-so, making her kick her legs underneath me. She was really a wreck at this point, people. I honestly felt like I may have gone too far with her. When I stopped, she was breathing like a marathon runner and saying how much her face hurt from laughing.
I said, “Ok, I’ll make you a deal…If you let me tie up your hands, I promise I’ll only tickle you for another five minutes, and it won’t be as bad as it has been so far. If I have to hold you down, I’m going to torture you even worse.” She knew she was going to get it, regardless, so she said to me,
“Ok, ok, but you HAVE to promise me. I’m trusting you. Five minutes, no more!”
Well, you and I both know that I’m going to do whatever the f*k I feel like as soon as I get her hands tied up, but we’ll see what happens. After all, I’m so ready to release my load all over this sweaty little sprite, that I may have to give myself a break, here. Anyway, she asks me how I plan on tying her up, and with what. “I dunno…”, I said, “gimme your panties!”
“I don’t think so, dude,", she fired back, “that’s gross!”
So the little barterer comes up with this, as I continue to sit on her ass with her arms free:
“Ok. If you let me pee, rest for a minute and get a drink of water, I’ll give you a pair of my nylons you can use to tie me.”
(How COOL is this chick? And I’d just like to reaffirm that, yes, even this next part really happened. This one is all non-fiction.)
Naturally, she either has a trick up her sleeve, or she thinks I’m going to stick to my deal. OR, she just loves to be tickle-tortured. Either way, I win. So after about five minutes, I find 2 pairs of nylons in her bag, give her some water, and she lays on her back on the drier ‘wrestling’ bed, and says,
“Ok…how do you want me?”
Now what kind of a thing is that to say to a guy? Come on!
“Lay flat on your back and put your hands through the metal bars”, I told her.
Nylons in hand, I tied her pencily wrists together on the other side of a vertical brass bar that separated her forearms.
“FIVE MINUTES”, she kept repeating to me, as a huge smile took over my face.
Sitting back on her knees I said, “I’ve never tied anyone up before”, I told her, “so I hope you don’t mind if I complete the job.”
She was like, “what do you mean?” and I took the second pair of nylons along with my belt from the floor, and went for her feet. There was no way I’d be able to secure both her feet to the bedposts quick enough, so I just belted her ankles together so I could reach over and get the nylons around the brass posts of the bed. She was kicking and protesting the whole time saying, “Thisisntpartofthedeal! Thisisntpartofthedeal! Wait, f*ker, NO!!” Damn, there’s that again.
“You just added five minutes onto your sentence, sweety!” I gleefully cheered.
Once they were secured, I unstrapped her frantic feet so I could retie them with the nylons, separately and spread apart. She was furious.
“Ten minutes! Are you ready, baby?”
“FIVE! FIVE minutes”, she reinforced. I pounced on her and she screamed. I put my face in hers, kissed her lips, slid down and kissed her right between her breasts and then ran my tongue over to her left armpit. As her squeal of ‘no, no, no’ quickly crescendoed, I ran my fingers up the other side her body and teased the outer area of her right armpit, licking and nibbling at her left, switching arms now and then. She was laughing really hard, but it came out as hissing and screeching noises, like she didn’t quite know how to react to a wet tongue having it’s way with her bare underarms.
“Ohhhmygahahahahahad! Pleeeease stahahahahahahahap! Ahhhhhhhhhahahahaha”, my prisoner begged.
“No talking”, I said, “Anytime you talk from now on, you add five more minutes to your ten you have already!”
Before she could get another word out I sat up and began assaulting the moist hollows of both armpits. Relentlessly, I poked and wriggled my tireless fingers in and around her underarms, intoxicated by seeing her endure such utter torture. When I finally turned my attention to her hard-muscled belly and sides, Shelly was visibly spent. I had to pace myself, since my entire goal, as if I need to tell you folks, was to punish those hot little feet she teased me with all the way here. The poor girl begged and tried to ‘bargain’ her way to mercy, so much that I couldn’t even count all the extra 5-minutes’s she racked up for talking. I verbally teased her the whole time while attacking her upperbody, and I especially got off on making her laugh herself out of breath, stopping momentarily, and then tickling her mercilessly while she was inhaling. I did this to her, like, six times in a row, and each time she did the cutest little squeaky-grunt before she roared laughing. I almost had to arrest myself, it was so much fun!
***This is the kind of thing a lot of us are looking for in a tickling video these days, so I hope a filmmaker or two reads this story and…oh, I don’t know…makes a movie out of it!***
I stopped and got up to go and piss and get a drink of water for myself, this time. Knowing you have a tickle slave tied-up at your mercy really doesn’t give you much time to eat, or read, or do really anything. But water intake and release? Very important. “Please you have to stop, I mean it. I really can’t stand anymore, ok?”, is what I was greeted with upon my return. Her face was sweaty and flushed red, eyes wet, and chest heaving.
“Pleeeeaase? Come on, you have me tied up in my underwear, and I know you’re horny as shit right now…can’t we do something else for a while?” She was back to the bartering again.
“Now you know, Shelly, you said I could paint your toes the other day and you did them yourself. Now what was that all about?” Confused, she said, “You weren’t here, so I…”, I interrupted her. “THAT’S no excuse, young lady. You promised me, but you LIED to me, didn’t you?”
She argued back. “No, no I didn’t I…”
I jumped between her ankles and sat facing the foot of the bed while she was testifying, and as she yelped out a nervous giggle, I said, “I know these bare little feet of yours are ticklish, aren’t they? Come on, tell me? Are your feet ticklish, hmmm?” She giggled her feeble pleas, shaking her head feverishly. “Are you ready to scream some more? Huh? Oh yeah, my tan little tickle slave is gonna laugh nice and loud for me, aren’t ya?” She was laughing already, I hadn’t even touched her yet. (For ten seconds, or so, I was actually teasing myself by ‘prolonging the magic’—hey don’t forget, I ain’t no veteran of this bondage/tickling thing…I’m a beginner here. If not for the multitude of stories I’ve read over the years, and scenarios I’ve conjured up in my warped mind, I probably would have called it a day after the “wrestling bout” earlier on. So I was reveling in the amazement of what I’d accomplished, the willingness of this sexy teenager to participate (which I explain later) and the whole f*ing timing of it all. Hell, I practically worded this whole story in these ten seconds that had me thanking whomever let this go down…………….)
I wasted no time with soft touches, and instead I raked my short, but existing nails up the bottoms of her warm feet, from her heels up to her toes. Again, she pierced the air with the evidence of her sweet agony. Her binds were not as restricting as I had wanted, but she wasn’t going anywhere, nevertheless.
“Boy, that looks like it tickles really bad, Shelly. Tell me if you want me to stop, honey, ok? (such a prick, I am!)” I kept rubbing it in. “You look like you’re having a pretty good time, though, so I’ll just keep tickling your feet for awhile until you stop laughing, ok?”
Her giggly whines changed to screaming outbursts and high-pitched laughter when I would stop and talk to her and then suddenly tickle my fingers down the sides of her feet. I engulfed myself in kissing the tops of her feet, individually, while my fingers circled her sensitive ankles and scraped her flexing arches and toes. I was nearing insanity from the need to turn around and bury my aching hard-on in her tiny slot, so I paused and let her rest her burning stomach muscles. I told her I would give her a chance to be in control, by letting her pick two other spots besides her feet that were off limits to my tickle attacks, and I promised—yeah, we’ve heard that before—that I would pick one spot to tickle, and I would stop after one whole song played (we had the same f*ing cd on repeat the whole time, now my favorite cd, as you may guess). I told her I would start at the first note of the next song and tickle the one spot that I choose for the rest of that one song, and then we’re done. Of course, she wasn’t buying it this time, but I told her I was starving and it was time to eat. She agreed, and picked her armpits and ribs to be ineligible along with her feet. “Fine”, I said, “you won’t know my spot ‘til I start.” The song began, and standing on the floor next to her, I grabbed her little G-string by the piece that went from her waist to her belly and tore that f*er right off. I yanked the rest of her panties down her right leg about halfway and watched her awestruck face as I tickled up her inner thigh to the V of her groin. Her look of amazement changed to one of more concern, when she figured out what my chosen ‘spot’ was. I lightly pitter-pattered my digits deep inside and back out of her inner thigh, and she wasn’t laughing, really, she was more like shuddering expectantly, as if someone would do if they we’re being lowered bare-ass-first onto a block of ice, y’know what I mean? Her entire body tensed up as I increased finger pressure and really dug into her inner crease. Several uninterrupted streams of maddening, breathless laughter told me I made a good choice in my spot. I made sure I came in repeated contact with her soaking wet pinkness she now had between her thighs, just to add to the torture. She was so quiet it scared me. She was moving like crazy to get away from it, but I had her laughing so hard, she was totally silent for, like, fifteen seconds.
“Come on, sweety, scream for me. I know this tickles worse than anything, doesn’t it?” I kneeled up on the bed, hands still manipulating her super-ticklish crotch.
“Shelllllyyy … Tickle, tickle! Tell me to stop, or else I’ll keep torturing you, baby!” I was plotting my end, when it happened. That was it. I heard her take her longest breath since she went silent, and I was ready for an earful.
“NO MOOOHOHOHORE--gulp of air---PLEEEEHEEHEHEHEASE STAAAAAHAHAhahahaaaap!”, then a bigger gulp of air, and a whimper all in one.
I realized the next song on the cd had started, and I thought, “Ok, time to end both of our pain .” I stood up on the bed, pulled my boxers off, and as I looked down at my sticky partner’s hair-covered face, I kneeled back down, and slowly and forcefully slid myself inside of her sopping warmth. Without any protest, she moaned deep and long. After a (very) short time, I reached under her so I could unhook her bra. I lifted it off her and devoured those perfect little tits just like I fantasized about before. I thrust in and out of her super-tight, slippery gash again and again, and nibbled her rock-solid nipples, until I felt her tense up, and she was whining, kind of frantically. I don’t know if she came or not, to be honest, but hearing that, especially after the kind of foreplay we just had, I f*in lost, it, guys. I’m not ashamed. I shot like an Iraqi fighter plane. She wore half of it, and the other half made the trip, I think (how ’bout a rubber next time, idiot).
I didn’t last very long, but given the circumstances, I put up a damn good fight. We immediately fell asleep for twelve days.
TO BE CONTINUED……………….
My first story. Never would I have considered writing this story had it not actually happened, mainly because even I couldn’t drum up some stuff like this just on a whim. Basically, these incidents were part of a weeklong event I experienced a few weeks ago in New Orleans during Mardi Gras, 2001. The whole reason I was there was not really for the celebrations, I was moving some furniture for friends while they were in Asia. I told them I’d just watch the place for the ten days they were gone, making the trip more of a vacation. They loved the idea almost as much as I did. A huge three bedroom beachfront house? Come on, already…I couldn’t wait!
--**Be forewarned: I’m telling it like it went, so it’s LONG, and detailed. You have to wait for the tickling parts JUST like I did, so read it all and you’ll thank me when it’s over.
ALSO, there is some detailed sex in this story.
One Of Them Days
It was Tuesday night in New Orleans (I arrived the previous Sunday), and I was with a friend, Shelly, that I had brought with me for the long haul. She was an eighteen-year-old college girl with long, straight brown hair, and the cutest little-girl smile in the world. She was about 5-foot-4, and really thin, but very muscular. Every dude we saw would come up to her and run his game, so this chick knew she was f*n hot, and she had every right to. We were on our way to meet a friend of hers at a hotel suite nearby, and I guess we woke her up when we called the room. She said to come by anyway, since she hadn’t seen Shelly in a few years. We got to the room, and Shelly shrieked as her friend opened the door.
“JESSIE! Oh my GOD!”,
and they both hugged and did that little ‘excited-girls-dance’ that only girls are allowed to do.
“SHHH, shh, shhhh! They’re still sleeping…”, Jessie whispered, referring to her two friends inside, though one was now awake. I was happy to see that my prediction of multiple girls staying in this huge room was accurate.
“Come in, you guys. Who’s the little hottie?”,
I heard her whisper to Shelly as I closed the door behind us. “Jessica, meet Mark…Mark, this is Jessica. He’s the one I told you I came down with at the last minute”.
Kind of makes me sound like a disease, doesn’t it?
Anyway, so here I am hanging out with these four girls, now. Since the three are still in sleeping mode, I’m thinking I might see or hear some things normally hidden away from us fellas in ‘Slumber Party Heaven’ that we all know exists. “’Morniiing!”, said the awakened friend.
“Actually, it’s 10pm, but we’re with ya”, I chimed in.
She sat up against the headboard.
“That’s Tiffany”, Jessica sneered jokingly.
She was a 20-year-old blonde, 5’6”, maybe, with short, curly hair, messy from sleeping. She was relatively well proportioned from what I could tell, with her t-shirt stopping just above her waistline. Below her knees was underneath the covers at this time, unfortunately, but her very perky chest seemed to take up alot of my visual attention for the time being (typical guy shit). I was really anxious to see the rest of Tiffany and also the sleeping girl. I tried to get a look at her, but all I saw was thin blonde hair and the covered outline of a body that stretched close to the end of the bed. Her bed was first, so that’s where I parked my ass, even though there were plenty of chairs. I knew damn well that ‘where I sat and why’ was the last thing they were concerned with, so I took advantage of the sleeping beauty and sat against the wall on the bed with my legs across hers. I got comfortable and scanned the room for some ‘cool girly things’ while Jessica, was rambling on to Shelly about old times and High School, and past boyfriends and that sort of crap.
Jessica was also about 5’6”, highlighted Brown hair, and had about the same upper build as Tiffany. She wore a tight red tank-top, and knee-length cutoff sweats, which I hated, but she was barefoot, so that made up for it. Tiffany gradually directed her conversation to me, and we were rambling on as well. I got up after about fifteen minutes and stumbled across their still-unpacked floor to the bathroom, where I plotted how to get these chicks on a more open playing field, as I pissed like a racehorse: I would slowly begin to try and wake ‘friend 2’ one way or another, eventually letting on that she’s maybe ‘slept enough’ and her friends would wake her up for me. With this as my game-plan, I returned to my place on the bed, and I swear I projected my thoughts from the bathroom—#2’s awake, still covered up, with her head in Jessica’s lap. How cool is that? As I returned to my prime seat, I became totally engulfed in watching Jessica’s fingers running through #2’s silky blonde hair.
“HI! I’m AWAKE, now”, she said to me, in a scratchy but loud voice.
“ABOUT TIME!”, I shot back equally as loud.
“I’m Keri,” she said this time more quietly, stretching out her long bare arm, not even coming close to me to shake her hand.
“Nice to finally meet you, I’m Mark”, I said, and instead of leaning over to take her hand, I reached down and pulled the covers off her feet and gave her bare toes a little friendly shake. I felt like the entire room could tell just by looking that I was near heart failure. She giggled playfully and reached her long leg over to me and pushed my hip with her toes. I hooked her ankle and effortlessly held it in my lap. Heart still pounding, I said, “Mmmm, someone’s got really soft legs”, as I ran my fingers over her calf, “and reeely sexy feet.”
Keri’s eyes grew wide, as if she was delighted at my discovery.
Jessica was like, “Ewww, gross! I hate feet!”
“I love feet!”, Keri challenged, and I vocally agreed with her. “I could play with these feet for hours”, I said to Jessica, and with that, Keri lifted her other foot into my lap.
“Ready when you are”, she said. The love affair begins…!
The Torture
I immediately turned all my attention to flirting back and forth with Keri, but I found myself occasionally fielding questions from the now-very-aware-of-my-intentions Shelly. Shelly started asking things she already knew the answers to, like “did you lock the car”, and “what time is it”, shit like that, just to break up my momentum. She even went so far as to bring up a little wrestling episode we had a few days earlier. She just threw it out of the clear blue to try and change the subject in her favor, and probably to get Keri to maybe think twice about flirting with me. After all, Shelly is meeting Keri and Tiffany for the first time just like I am, and she knows first-hand about my foot fetish and my tickling fetish. Once she saw me pull the covers off Keri like that, she knew what I was starting. I backed off Keri and started to interact with Shelly a bit, mostly to keep from irritating her, but also because I heard her drop her clunky heels on the hard tiled floor. She didn’t look at me, but she smiled for me as she talked with Jessica. She knew I was going to be at my wits end watching her casually run her own nails over the tops of her feet as she sat barefoot and cross-legged on the bed, which now was home to her, myself, Keri and Jessica. Tiffany seemed quite content on her bed by herself, but I think she pulled out her own little Trump card by making sure I saw her move out of her covers and lay on her belly. I pretended not to be too ridiculously aroused, as hard as it was, since her boxer shorts she slept in were slid down a bit on her ass, and her purple thong was showing just enough to let me know that it was a thong. She kicked and swung her tiny little white-socked feet playfully in the air as we all talked back and forth (pardon me whilst I reflect………………....ok.)
Folks, I was really hurting at this point, as you can imagine. Two pairs of bare feet just inches from me, and swinging little white socks—they were the thin, tight ankle socks, too—right on the next bed, and Jessica’s bare feet barely visible, but almost touching Shelly’s knee. Have you ever wanted to just be able to freeze everyone in a room except you and one other person? Me too, all the time. So there I sat, my tortured self, praying for this madness to end either by everyone abruptly leaving to do something else or by satisfying my now-raging need to tickle-torture any or all of these girls for putting me through this (as if they have any idea, right?). Well…Shelly knew, dammit, and she was going to pay!
The Drive
Now, Shelly I’ve known for about a year, via mutual friends. We never dated, never exchanged numbers, never really talked about anything but our common friends, aside from the drunk bonding session we had the second time we met. I saw her about a week before my trip, and it just so happened that she was supposed to be in Jessica’s group for Mardis Gras during the same week, but their schedules conflicted and she had no way to catch a ride with them, and she won’t fly. I told her of my coincidental destination, and she was ecstatic with my offer to stay with me. The drive down was very comfortable, overall. We talked openly about all of the things we always wanted to cover with each other, including sex and relationships. I could tell by some of the things she said she was not a shy girl, in the least. Our journey was a bit maddening for me some of the time, though, like when she would slip her Adidas sandals off and put her bare feet up on the dashboard. “You don’t mind, do you”, she would ask every time, and of course I was like,
“Sweetheart, if you really want to be tortured later…”—naw, I didn’t say that…! Actually, I was like,
“Oh, go ahead, make yourself at home..”, but you know I was thinking the first answer! She wiggled and stretched her toes, tearing apart my will power and I fought every second not to stare too long. Occasionally she caught me fixating on them, I know she did, but she never said anything.
“I really hate this nail polish”, she said once, after a long period of silence between us. “I think I’ll change it when we get there”, she finished.
“I’ll paint them for you!”, I said, jokingly, to which she was very surprised.
“Really? You’d do that?” she squeaked.
“Oh, hell yeah”, I said, which opened the door for me to reveal my ‘little dark secret’. I didn’t really let on the intensity of it though, because I had plans for our trip down that might be ruined if I made her uncomfortable, so basically, I left out the whole ‘tickle-torture thing’, entirely. I just said that I have a serious weakness for girls’ feet, “and yours are on the top of my list right now.” She seemed flattered by my simple affection. Driving on, I waited until she was asleep to take a ‘bathroom break’ because I wanted to wake her up the way hot little barefooted girls are supposed to be woken up. I parked and waited to see if she woke up on her own. She didn’t. I got out and opened the side door where she slept on her back (I have an extended-cab pickup, so there’s a bench seat in the back) and gently ran my hands first over her toes, then over the tops of both her feet toward her ankles. No reaction. I came back up, this time with scratching fingers, and she jumped as I got to the base of her thin, purple-polished toes. Still not awake, she turned on her right side. Half of the job was done: she’s ticklish on her feet, now to explore other avenues. I leaned over her swishy jogging pants, and galloped my fingers lightly and quickly from her exposed bellybutton around to her lower back. She began smiling in her sleep, after I repeated this pattern a few times. By the fourth time I came around to her waist, her subconscious gave way and with a quick grab of my hand and an adorable little grunt, she was awake. And not amused.
The Promised Land
Our first few days in New Orleans were typical. We were feeling each other out mentally, which lead to comfortability, which gave way to physical interaction. The second night, we had our little wrestling gig, mentioned previously. Her demeanor this whole day was telling me that she was feeling a tad frisky, as every so often she would purposely make fun of me for no good reason just to get a rise out of me, even conjuring up this joke that I might be gay because I commented on some dude’s build (he was f*n ripped, man, you would’ve looked too). I kept telling her she was really ‘asking for it’, to which she just laughed her disbelief. We came back home after buying some groceries, and we just kind of relaxed. Shelly laid sideways in a chair stretching her back over its thick arm, her skinny body draped backwards towards the floor. I fixed myself on her tiny little perky breasts that I was soooooo dying to just brush up against, if not devour, so I made the first move toward physical contact. I got up and stood in front of her chair and admired her pierced belly.
“You still need your ass kicked, you know, for harassing me all day”, was all I said. She sat up, we lost the shoes, the jewelry, and the shirts (no shit, both of us. She was afraid of ripping hers) and we took one of two adjacent beds and went at it. Naturally, my whole goal was to pin this girl down and tickle her senseless, but as we fought for position, I found out that this was also her goal! Immediately, I felt her hard little nails dig into my underarm. I yelled out loud, and she quickly moved her hand down to wiggle inside my pants near my hipbone as I closed my arm.
“OH, YES! I LOVE it! FINALLY, a ticklish GUY”, Shelly yelled.
I totally loved it, so I let her tickle me as long as I could stand it--which was about ten seconds or so--then I fought her off. I was stiff as a board by now and I was afraid she would notice if I sat or laid on her. Soon, I had no choice in the matter; she pushed me back over my own ankle and sat on me, holding down my wrists. “I see someone likes to be tickled, huh?” she teased.
I played dumb and said, “Why do you say that?”.
She made her ass kind of slide slightly on my swollenness and she smiled, biting her lip.
“Oh. Well, I think that’s from seeing you in your bra...”, I said, just to cover myself.
“I don’t think so,” she sung out loud, and then quickly laid completely on top of me and shot both hands inside my jeans and tickled my hipbones as I struggled to get her off me. I was so delirious from the surprise of her attack, I was totally unable to get this pint-size chick off of me! I didn’t think that really happened, like all these stories say, but it does…I was almost powerless. Assisted by my loose-but-confining pants, Shelly kneaded her excited fingers on my abdomen until I could finally pull her hands out. She kneeled up, paused while I breathed and giggled, and immediately fell back on my knees. I sat up to grab hold of her, but she reached behind her back and those tickly nails found my bare feet. She had her way with them for a short moment, as I was loosely tangled in the bedspread, preventing me to sit all the way up.
“WAIT, WAIT, PLEASE, I’m STUCK,” I begged her. She tickled furiously on the bottoms of both feet while I raced to free my stupid ass from bondage.
She teased me briefly, “You are SO ticklish, I can’t believe it! I’m going to have to do this to you all the time now.”
I twisted loose after about fifteen seconds of struggling and ticklish paralysis and wrestled her to the floor where we made each other scream hysterically for another few minutes. We were sweating like mad, which was all the worse for my ‘penile condition’, because now her tiny mounds were glistening, her sweet ‘girly’ odor was stronger than ever, and she had her little hand inside my jeans, once again, even though she mercifully stopped tickling me. I was harder than a Calculus exam, for cryin’ out loud! She got up, figuring we were finished, so I played along and got up, too. She showered, then I showered with the hot water off. After we cleaned up, we were both getting changed in the same room at the same time. We were totally naked, and strangely, neither of us seemed to care.
“You know you’re gonna get it twice as bad, right?”, I said out of nowhere.
“Bring it on, f*ker!”, she said.
Oh, you better believe I was on that like a cheap suit. I snatched the towel from her wet hair, and threw her skinny little bra-and-pantied ass on the dry bed, and held nothing back. I wanted total immobility for maximum torture, so I sat on her waist, held both wrists with one hand, and without warning, teasing or any kind of buildup at all, dug my starving fingers into her soft, muscly armpits. She…freaked! Screamed like a banshee! I almost stopped immediately out of fear that the people next door might hear and call the f*n cops, but I continued tickling and tickling this poor, but deserving girl’s gorgeous armpits. Her big blue eyes were squeezed shut like I’d never seen.
“NO! No, no, no, no, no PLEEEASE! I’m SORRY”, she said after a minute or so of nonstop cackling laughter. “I’M SOOOO SORRY!”
I stopped to let her breathe, and to listen to her beg.
“Please, ok. I’m sorry. No more, please? I can’t take this”, she pleaded.
I was so turned on by her begging that I thought I was going to pass out.
“Sorry, huh? Ok, we’re even…for calling me f*er, but what about for tickling me to death earlier? Who’s paying for that,” I said calmly.
“No, not me, I won fair and square!” she said, demandingly.
“Ok, well I think we should see how much you like your little hips tickled!”
I flipped Shelly over onto her stomach, regripped her wrists, and laid face-down on her back.
“NO! NO!NO! NO! NO! NO!” She screamed over and over while I spent the next few minutes opening and closing my right fingers up and down her arm, ribs, waist and finally over her curvy ass—which made her squeal hysterically—where I followed her panties around to the front of her hips.
“Oooh. I found a new ticklish spot, didn’t I?”, referring to her tiny little butt.
“nooo…”, she whimpered, burying her face in the pillow preparing for her merciless punishment, as advertised.
I got close to her ear and said, “Sweetheart, I’m gonna tickle you soooooo f*ing bad right now, Shelly, you have no idea”.
“Please, no! I’ll do anything! Seriously, I WILL! Name it!” she pleaded.
“Like what”, I said. “What will you do for me that’s going to be more fun than making you scream and beg for me to stop tickling you? I can’t imagine what that could be”, I proclaimed.
“I don’t know…ANYTHING you want.”, she replied.
“Ok, what about, like…sex. You wouldn’t go that far, I know that. But that would definitely change the game.”
She looked back at me and said, “We’re both half naked, you’re hard as a rock and laying on top of me, my panties are soaking wet from feeling your dick pushed into my ass…I don’t think a good hard f*k is too much of a stretch, do you?”
Wow. The words of great poets have never painted pictures as clear as this little teenager just did. The English language is a beautiful thing, ain’t it?
“Well damn, girl,”, I replied, “if you’re offering to do that now, you won’t have much to offer when I ask you the same question in ten minutes when I’m finished tickling you to death!” And with that, I pressed her into the bed with my sadistic fingers wiggling on her belly and hips. An ear-piercing scream ushered in constant, but varied cackles and wild, breathless laughter. I must’ve tickled her in this one area for three minutes, at least. I whispered in her ear, cruelly teasing her while I tickled.
“You like that, sweety, hmmm? I think you do! You’ve been asking for this all day, haven’t you?”
She took one deep breath and emptied her lungs louder than I’ve ever heard anyone yell in a house: “PLEEEEEEEEEHEHEHEHEAAAaaase stoppitohmygod!”, then another deep breath followed to fuel her maniacal laughing. I switched from her hips back up to her ribs and then swirled my fingers on her ass through her silky panties for a minute-or-so, making her kick her legs underneath me. She was really a wreck at this point, people. I honestly felt like I may have gone too far with her. When I stopped, she was breathing like a marathon runner and saying how much her face hurt from laughing.
I said, “Ok, I’ll make you a deal…If you let me tie up your hands, I promise I’ll only tickle you for another five minutes, and it won’t be as bad as it has been so far. If I have to hold you down, I’m going to torture you even worse.” She knew she was going to get it, regardless, so she said to me,
“Ok, ok, but you HAVE to promise me. I’m trusting you. Five minutes, no more!”
Well, you and I both know that I’m going to do whatever the f*k I feel like as soon as I get her hands tied up, but we’ll see what happens. After all, I’m so ready to release my load all over this sweaty little sprite, that I may have to give myself a break, here. Anyway, she asks me how I plan on tying her up, and with what. “I dunno…”, I said, “gimme your panties!”
“I don’t think so, dude,", she fired back, “that’s gross!”
So the little barterer comes up with this, as I continue to sit on her ass with her arms free:
“Ok. If you let me pee, rest for a minute and get a drink of water, I’ll give you a pair of my nylons you can use to tie me.”
(How COOL is this chick? And I’d just like to reaffirm that, yes, even this next part really happened. This one is all non-fiction.)
Naturally, she either has a trick up her sleeve, or she thinks I’m going to stick to my deal. OR, she just loves to be tickle-tortured. Either way, I win. So after about five minutes, I find 2 pairs of nylons in her bag, give her some water, and she lays on her back on the drier ‘wrestling’ bed, and says,
“Ok…how do you want me?”
Now what kind of a thing is that to say to a guy? Come on!
“Lay flat on your back and put your hands through the metal bars”, I told her.
Nylons in hand, I tied her pencily wrists together on the other side of a vertical brass bar that separated her forearms.
“FIVE MINUTES”, she kept repeating to me, as a huge smile took over my face.
Sitting back on her knees I said, “I’ve never tied anyone up before”, I told her, “so I hope you don’t mind if I complete the job.”
She was like, “what do you mean?” and I took the second pair of nylons along with my belt from the floor, and went for her feet. There was no way I’d be able to secure both her feet to the bedposts quick enough, so I just belted her ankles together so I could reach over and get the nylons around the brass posts of the bed. She was kicking and protesting the whole time saying, “Thisisntpartofthedeal! Thisisntpartofthedeal! Wait, f*ker, NO!!” Damn, there’s that again.
“You just added five minutes onto your sentence, sweety!” I gleefully cheered.
Once they were secured, I unstrapped her frantic feet so I could retie them with the nylons, separately and spread apart. She was furious.
“Ten minutes! Are you ready, baby?”
“FIVE! FIVE minutes”, she reinforced. I pounced on her and she screamed. I put my face in hers, kissed her lips, slid down and kissed her right between her breasts and then ran my tongue over to her left armpit. As her squeal of ‘no, no, no’ quickly crescendoed, I ran my fingers up the other side her body and teased the outer area of her right armpit, licking and nibbling at her left, switching arms now and then. She was laughing really hard, but it came out as hissing and screeching noises, like she didn’t quite know how to react to a wet tongue having it’s way with her bare underarms.
“Ohhhmygahahahahahad! Pleeeease stahahahahahahahap! Ahhhhhhhhhahahahaha”, my prisoner begged.
“No talking”, I said, “Anytime you talk from now on, you add five more minutes to your ten you have already!”
Before she could get another word out I sat up and began assaulting the moist hollows of both armpits. Relentlessly, I poked and wriggled my tireless fingers in and around her underarms, intoxicated by seeing her endure such utter torture. When I finally turned my attention to her hard-muscled belly and sides, Shelly was visibly spent. I had to pace myself, since my entire goal, as if I need to tell you folks, was to punish those hot little feet she teased me with all the way here. The poor girl begged and tried to ‘bargain’ her way to mercy, so much that I couldn’t even count all the extra 5-minutes’s she racked up for talking. I verbally teased her the whole time while attacking her upperbody, and I especially got off on making her laugh herself out of breath, stopping momentarily, and then tickling her mercilessly while she was inhaling. I did this to her, like, six times in a row, and each time she did the cutest little squeaky-grunt before she roared laughing. I almost had to arrest myself, it was so much fun!
***This is the kind of thing a lot of us are looking for in a tickling video these days, so I hope a filmmaker or two reads this story and…oh, I don’t know…makes a movie out of it!***
I stopped and got up to go and piss and get a drink of water for myself, this time. Knowing you have a tickle slave tied-up at your mercy really doesn’t give you much time to eat, or read, or do really anything. But water intake and release? Very important. “Please you have to stop, I mean it. I really can’t stand anymore, ok?”, is what I was greeted with upon my return. Her face was sweaty and flushed red, eyes wet, and chest heaving.
“Pleeeeaase? Come on, you have me tied up in my underwear, and I know you’re horny as shit right now…can’t we do something else for a while?” She was back to the bartering again.
“Now you know, Shelly, you said I could paint your toes the other day and you did them yourself. Now what was that all about?” Confused, she said, “You weren’t here, so I…”, I interrupted her. “THAT’S no excuse, young lady. You promised me, but you LIED to me, didn’t you?”
She argued back. “No, no I didn’t I…”
I jumped between her ankles and sat facing the foot of the bed while she was testifying, and as she yelped out a nervous giggle, I said, “I know these bare little feet of yours are ticklish, aren’t they? Come on, tell me? Are your feet ticklish, hmmm?” She giggled her feeble pleas, shaking her head feverishly. “Are you ready to scream some more? Huh? Oh yeah, my tan little tickle slave is gonna laugh nice and loud for me, aren’t ya?” She was laughing already, I hadn’t even touched her yet. (For ten seconds, or so, I was actually teasing myself by ‘prolonging the magic’—hey don’t forget, I ain’t no veteran of this bondage/tickling thing…I’m a beginner here. If not for the multitude of stories I’ve read over the years, and scenarios I’ve conjured up in my warped mind, I probably would have called it a day after the “wrestling bout” earlier on. So I was reveling in the amazement of what I’d accomplished, the willingness of this sexy teenager to participate (which I explain later) and the whole f*ing timing of it all. Hell, I practically worded this whole story in these ten seconds that had me thanking whomever let this go down…………….)
I wasted no time with soft touches, and instead I raked my short, but existing nails up the bottoms of her warm feet, from her heels up to her toes. Again, she pierced the air with the evidence of her sweet agony. Her binds were not as restricting as I had wanted, but she wasn’t going anywhere, nevertheless.
“Boy, that looks like it tickles really bad, Shelly. Tell me if you want me to stop, honey, ok? (such a prick, I am!)” I kept rubbing it in. “You look like you’re having a pretty good time, though, so I’ll just keep tickling your feet for awhile until you stop laughing, ok?”
Her giggly whines changed to screaming outbursts and high-pitched laughter when I would stop and talk to her and then suddenly tickle my fingers down the sides of her feet. I engulfed myself in kissing the tops of her feet, individually, while my fingers circled her sensitive ankles and scraped her flexing arches and toes. I was nearing insanity from the need to turn around and bury my aching hard-on in her tiny slot, so I paused and let her rest her burning stomach muscles. I told her I would give her a chance to be in control, by letting her pick two other spots besides her feet that were off limits to my tickle attacks, and I promised—yeah, we’ve heard that before—that I would pick one spot to tickle, and I would stop after one whole song played (we had the same f*ing cd on repeat the whole time, now my favorite cd, as you may guess). I told her I would start at the first note of the next song and tickle the one spot that I choose for the rest of that one song, and then we’re done. Of course, she wasn’t buying it this time, but I told her I was starving and it was time to eat. She agreed, and picked her armpits and ribs to be ineligible along with her feet. “Fine”, I said, “you won’t know my spot ‘til I start.” The song began, and standing on the floor next to her, I grabbed her little G-string by the piece that went from her waist to her belly and tore that f*er right off. I yanked the rest of her panties down her right leg about halfway and watched her awestruck face as I tickled up her inner thigh to the V of her groin. Her look of amazement changed to one of more concern, when she figured out what my chosen ‘spot’ was. I lightly pitter-pattered my digits deep inside and back out of her inner thigh, and she wasn’t laughing, really, she was more like shuddering expectantly, as if someone would do if they we’re being lowered bare-ass-first onto a block of ice, y’know what I mean? Her entire body tensed up as I increased finger pressure and really dug into her inner crease. Several uninterrupted streams of maddening, breathless laughter told me I made a good choice in my spot. I made sure I came in repeated contact with her soaking wet pinkness she now had between her thighs, just to add to the torture. She was so quiet it scared me. She was moving like crazy to get away from it, but I had her laughing so hard, she was totally silent for, like, fifteen seconds.
“Come on, sweety, scream for me. I know this tickles worse than anything, doesn’t it?” I kneeled up on the bed, hands still manipulating her super-ticklish crotch.
“Shelllllyyy … Tickle, tickle! Tell me to stop, or else I’ll keep torturing you, baby!” I was plotting my end, when it happened. That was it. I heard her take her longest breath since she went silent, and I was ready for an earful.
“NO MOOOHOHOHORE--gulp of air---PLEEEEHEEHEHEHEASE STAAAAAHAHAhahahaaaap!”, then a bigger gulp of air, and a whimper all in one.
I realized the next song on the cd had started, and I thought, “Ok, time to end both of our pain .” I stood up on the bed, pulled my boxers off, and as I looked down at my sticky partner’s hair-covered face, I kneeled back down, and slowly and forcefully slid myself inside of her sopping warmth. Without any protest, she moaned deep and long. After a (very) short time, I reached under her so I could unhook her bra. I lifted it off her and devoured those perfect little tits just like I fantasized about before. I thrust in and out of her super-tight, slippery gash again and again, and nibbled her rock-solid nipples, until I felt her tense up, and she was whining, kind of frantically. I don’t know if she came or not, to be honest, but hearing that, especially after the kind of foreplay we just had, I f*in lost, it, guys. I’m not ashamed. I shot like an Iraqi fighter plane. She wore half of it, and the other half made the trip, I think (how ’bout a rubber next time, idiot).
I didn’t last very long, but given the circumstances, I put up a damn good fight. We immediately fell asleep for twelve days.
TO BE CONTINUED……………….
