HisFlyinFingers
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Aug 9, 2005
- Messages
- 163
- Points
- 0
It all started in her bedroom—one of her hands running through my hair, the other squeezing my ass, her body pressed against mine and forcing my back against the wall. I felt overwhelmed, and smothered, and so turned on I could hardly breathe. And then she pulled her lips away from mine and said something I will never forget.
I suppose you could say it really started before that. Jenn was a friend-of-a-friend, I guess; we met at a concert where we each knew a different guy in the band. We got to talking, and hanging out, and before long I had a giant crush on her.
She was 5’4”, with an athlete’s body. She had black hair cut short, and big, almond-shaped brown eyes. In short, she was beautiful, and you can hardly blame me.
At first, I didn’t think she was into me, or even into girls at all. I don’t really think of myself as being “pretty”—a 5’1” skinny girl with glasses doesn’t usually turn heads. But just when I was getting used to thinking of her as just my friend (albeit an incredibly sexy one), she invited me over to her place.
“Becca … can I kiss you?” she asked. Just like that, in the middle of a movie, no build-up. I said ‘yes,’ almost in a whisper, and she pulled me close and found my lips with hers.
The next few minutes were a blur, partly because she moved quickly and partly because my head was reeling. She took off my glasses, placing them on the kitchen table without breaking the kiss. My hoodie came unzipped and fell to the floor, but she was sweeping me toward her room so I barely noticed it.
I was kissing back, hard, and pulling her hips as tight against mine as I could. I wanted her to know, without me having to say it, how bad I wanted her.
We made it to her room, and she locked the door behind us and peeled off her t-shirt, so we were both in just tank tops. When our bodies met again, I was mostly just holding on for dear life. Her mouth on the side of my neck made my knees so weak I nearly fell, so she pressed me against the wall for support.
Then she said it: “Have you ever been tied up?” My mouth hung open, not sure if I’d heard her correctly. I shook my head no, which was true. I knew what was coming next, and for a second I thought even having the question asked would kill me. “Would you like to be?” she asked.
OK, I guess this is the part where I admit that I’d been fantasizing about this for a long time—being tied up by a beautiful woman, that is. I’d even spent the night after we met staring at the ceiling of my bedroom, wondering what it would be like if Jenn tied me up and had her way with me. So I should have jumped at the chance. But some stupid little voice in my head kept saying that if she knew about these kinky (and embarrassing!) thoughts, she wouldn’t like me. Somewhere in the turmoil of my brain saying ‘no’ and my body screaming ‘yes,’ I managed to nod my head.
She guided me to the side of her bed, and gave me a playful push. As I lay there, face up, my knees hung over the edge and my sneakers dangled a few inches off the floor. She climbed on top of me and pinned my arms over my head with her hands. I squirmed a bit, not wanting to get out, just wanting to test my range of motion. She was bigger and stronger, and if she wanted to hold me down, I wasn’t going anywhere. That fact hit me like a warm, slightly tingly wave.
“Now Becca, I need you to stay just like this. I’m going to get a few things ready.”
“OK,” I managed to sputter out.
Of course, she couldn’t just climb off me. She slowly pulled her body backwards, letting her hands drift down my body. She caressed my arms, my breasts, my hips, and my thighs. A shiver ran through my whole body. When I was able to open my eyes, I saw she was digging for something in her closet.
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to hold perfectly still, knowing that one of the most exciting things in your life was drifting, slowly but inescapably, in your direction. Actually, in a way, I was already helpless. She told me to stay put, and no matter how long she made me wait, I was going to do exactly that. The restraints were just for decoration, at this point.
As I was musing on my self-imposed helplessness, she returned from her closet with four black straps—simple Velcro cuffs with a long, loose strip of material hanging off each. They didn’t look like much, but once they were on, I knew I wouldn’t be going anywhere.
I felt a new rush of desire as she climbed on top of me. Our lips met, and I felt the first cuff encircle my left wrist. When my right wrist was cuffed, she held the straps together in one hand and stretched my arms over my head. With her other hand, she played with my hair and stroked my cheek.
“You look so pretty like this,” she said. I could feel the heat in my cheeks as I blushed. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you fully tied.”
She helped me shift over, so I was laying the right way in the bed. She tied the cuffs around my wrists together, then tied them to the headboard. I tried pulling my arms down to test her knots, but I could only pull down an inch or so. She scooted back, so she was sitting on my legs. Her smile, and the way she looked down at me, made me blush more.
“I think it’s time we both got a little more comfortable,” she said. She untucked my tank top, and slowly unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. Even as her fingers pulled my pants past my hips, her mouth began kissing my lower belly. That made me forget how to breathe for a few seconds.
She climbed off me, leaving my jeans around my thighs and my midsection exposed. Lifting my right foot, she began untying my sneaker. Shoe and sock sailed out of sight past the end of the bed, and before I knew what was happening her lips were wrapped around my toes.
Having my toes sucked wasn’t even something I’d ever thought about. If I hadn’t been tied up, and already so turned on I could hardly stand it, and totally in awe of the woman doing it, I might have tried to pull my foot away. But instead I just let it happen, and it felt so good I could hardly lie still. It was sort of a tickle mixed with a massage, with the addition of the warm wetness of her mouth. I surprised myself with a soft moan.
Then she changed something, I’m not sure what. The tickling got a lot worse, and I couldn’t help but laugh and pull my foot away. I half expected her to be upset, but she just smiled wider. Without breaking eye contact, she lifted my left foot, and removed my sneaker and sock. One hand wrapped around my ankle, the other around my toes. This time her mouth started at my heel, and I think she was using her teeth. It tickled so bad I was squeaking and bouncing on the bed. She nibbled up my arch, and finally I had to yank my foot out of her grasp.
She pounced on me, her fingers dancing up my sides even as she kissed my neck and cheeks. I was thrashing under her, but with her bodyweight on my hips and my arms tied, I couldn’t avoid the tickling. Her hands found their way under my top, and as they traveled from my hips to my armpits, my top was lifted along with them. She dipped down to kiss and nibble on my stomach, and somehow managed to unclasp my bra and pull it over my head through all my bucking and wriggling.
Now that my upper body was totally exposed, my tank top and bra pushed up over my forearms, Jenn took full advantage of every available spot. It got to where I couldn’t even tell where she was tickling at any moment—I was still reeling from the last sensitive spot, and wondering what the next one would be. When my eyes weren’t squeezed shut, they were looking up into her face, transfigured as it was with a mixture of joy and desire. Her fingers twirled over my nipples, which reminded me suddenly and urgently how turned on I was, but I was laughing too hard to even beg. Too hard to breathe, in fact, and when I couldn’t get enough air to keep laughing she stopped.
“Are you doing OK?” she asked, brushing the hair out of my face and kissing my cheeks.
I couldn’t stop giggling, but I managed to get a few much-needed gasps of air. When I could, I nodded my head.
She smiled, relieved. “Do you want me to untie you, or keep going?”
“Don’t … you don’t have to untie me,” I managed.
She gave me a slow kiss, which felt so good it made me dizzy. She stroked my hair, making a face like she was considering what to do next. “How far do you want to go?”
This was a tough question. So far, it’d been nothing like my fantasies. I was tied up, and being so helpless while her hands were all over me was exactly what I wanted, right? Then again, if she had asked to tickle me, or suggested tickling as a turn-on, I might’ve balked. It wasn’t what I was hoping she’d do. But somehow the look in her eyes, the way she made me squirm and laugh, the way I couldn’t fight the tickling no matter how hard I tried … it was better than any fantasy I’d ever imagined.
I realized she was waiting for my response. “You can,” I took a deep breath, “go as far as you want.”
Her look was skeptical. “You realize, I’m going to tickle you everywhere.” The way she said that last word made me think of one spot in particular, and I wondered whether I was ticklish there, and suddenly I wanted very badly to find out. I smiled and nodded eagerly. She laughed. “God, you really are perfect.”
That’s pretty much the nicest thing everyone’s ever said to me, so I was blushing so hard I nearly missed Jenn hopping off the bed and slowly stripping all of her clothes off. She had a tattoo on her ribs, just under her left breast; a sort of stylized ballerina. Her body was just as beautiful naked as I’d imagined—smooth and thin, but with gentle, graceful curves. I felt a pang of envy, but then remembered she had just called me “perfect” and blushed all over again.
When she climbed back on the bed, she was completely naked and holding the other two cuffs—I had totally forgotten about them. She started kissing my stomach, and slowly inching my underwear down. The anticipation crashed over me; made me feel hot, and breathless, and desperate for her to touch me. Jeans and underwear came off as one. I helpfully held my feet up, together, so she could cuff and tie them just like she had my hands. But once the cuffs were on, she pulled my feet apart and tied them to opposite corners of the bed. I squirmed as much as I could, testing the two or three inches of slack she’d given me. She watched me, then loosened her knots and retied them tighter. Somehow, that felt reassuring, like it was a good thing she’d be torturing me and I couldn’t move an inch to stop it.
“I seem to remember you trying to keep these cute little feet away from me,” she teased. She straddled my right leg, facing away from me so all I could see was her perfectly rounded butt. I felt her mouth close around my toes as before, but this time it was joined by the sensation of her fingernails scrabbling across my arches. I guess my feet are more ticklish than my sides, because I was squealing and giggling instantly. My hips were bouncing and shaking like crazy, since that was really the only thing I could move. Her hips were pressed against my right thigh, making it just that much more impossible to get away. Though I’m pretty sure she was enjoying my wriggling under her.
Next, she tried licking one foot while reaching over and tickling the other. That made it a little easier to separate the amazingly good feelings from her mouth from the tickling feelings—not that the tickling felt bad, it just didn’t turn my whole body to jelly like her mouth could. Just as I felt like I was having trouble catching my breath, she switched to just rubbing my feet, which felt wonderful. It let me relax and breathe. But it also let me think about the urgent warmth in my stomach. I was so desperate for her I couldn’t think straight or form words. I tried any way I could to press myself against her, but she was just out of reach. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more frustrated.
She turned and sat between my legs, and the tickling started again. This was light, though, as if she was testing each spot. She tickled the bottoms of my feet (very ticklish!), then the sides (yes!) and tops (why are the tops of my feet ticklish?!). Next she reached under my legs to tease my calves (a little) and the backs of my knees (a lot!). She squeezed just above my knees, then skipped up and squeezed my hips, both of which drove me crazy.
“You’re ticklish everywhere, aren’t you?” she asked—somewhat unnecessarily, since she had just confirmed it. My legs were rubbery and trembling from all the attention. She hopped off the bed, but returned almost instantly with something in her hand. She leaned in close, and gently parted my folds with one finger. She spread her fingers slightly, holding me open. God, I have never been touched like that.
I finally was able to focus my eyes enough to recognize what she had in her other hand: a small white feather. It swooped in between her fingers, and I almost screamed. It more than tickled; it was like some other thing, like tickling but a thousand times more intense, that doesn’t have a name yet. “You’re so wet,” Jenn whispered, but I almost didn’t hear it over the sound of all the alarms and sirens going off in my head at once.
Within seconds, I was crying. I don’t know why, it was just so overwhelming I couldn’t take it. She heard me whimper and immediately pulled the feather away, but as soon as it was gone I wished it was back, and that left me so confused I didn’t know what to do.
“Are you OK? Do we need to stop?” she asked, concerned.
“Please … please …” I was saying. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t make my mouth say it.
“It’s OK, it’s OK,” she said. She leaned over me, and started to reach for the cuffs on my hands, but I shook my head frantically and grunted out what I hoped sounded like a ‘no’.
She sat back, now very worried and maybe almost as confused as I was. I took a deep breath, and managed to stammer out, “Please … make me …” I couldn’t say any more, but she got the message. Her head dipped between my legs.
The first touch of her tongue was all I needed, and all the fierce, built-up warmth in my stomach exploded through my entire body. Then it was like the feather again—she hadn’t stopped, and the sensations were too much. I couldn’t pull away; any movement I made just pressed me harder into her mouth. Every muscle in my body strained to get me away, but the cuffs held.
It’s hard to describe what happened next, mostly because my brain was completely fried. But it was as if a switch got flipped. All the building tension and intensity and anxiety erupted into pure heat and pleasure, all at once.
My body crashed back down to the mattress feeling like I’d just been shocked everywhere simultaneously. As the world slowly came into focus, I realized Jenn was kissing my stomach and touching herself. She finished with a low, sweet moan, and collapsed onto me, her head on my breasts and her arms hugging my waist as tight as she could.
After she untied me, we cuddled under the covers for a while, her arms wrapped around me and our legs intertwined. Bliss was the word for it. I had almost fallen asleep against her chest when she asked me a question—“So, how was it? Your first time, right?”
“Being tied up was,” I struggled to find the right word, “incredible. And when you were sucking my toes, I almost died it felt so good.”
“And the tickling?” she asked.
I shifted in her arms, pushing my face up to hers, so we were nose-to-nose. Her brown eyes were shining—waiting—and for a moment the roles seemed reversed, as if she were completely under my control.
“If it’s always like that,” I said slowly, “you can tickle me whenever you want.”
I suppose you could say it really started before that. Jenn was a friend-of-a-friend, I guess; we met at a concert where we each knew a different guy in the band. We got to talking, and hanging out, and before long I had a giant crush on her.
She was 5’4”, with an athlete’s body. She had black hair cut short, and big, almond-shaped brown eyes. In short, she was beautiful, and you can hardly blame me.
At first, I didn’t think she was into me, or even into girls at all. I don’t really think of myself as being “pretty”—a 5’1” skinny girl with glasses doesn’t usually turn heads. But just when I was getting used to thinking of her as just my friend (albeit an incredibly sexy one), she invited me over to her place.
“Becca … can I kiss you?” she asked. Just like that, in the middle of a movie, no build-up. I said ‘yes,’ almost in a whisper, and she pulled me close and found my lips with hers.
The next few minutes were a blur, partly because she moved quickly and partly because my head was reeling. She took off my glasses, placing them on the kitchen table without breaking the kiss. My hoodie came unzipped and fell to the floor, but she was sweeping me toward her room so I barely noticed it.
I was kissing back, hard, and pulling her hips as tight against mine as I could. I wanted her to know, without me having to say it, how bad I wanted her.
We made it to her room, and she locked the door behind us and peeled off her t-shirt, so we were both in just tank tops. When our bodies met again, I was mostly just holding on for dear life. Her mouth on the side of my neck made my knees so weak I nearly fell, so she pressed me against the wall for support.
Then she said it: “Have you ever been tied up?” My mouth hung open, not sure if I’d heard her correctly. I shook my head no, which was true. I knew what was coming next, and for a second I thought even having the question asked would kill me. “Would you like to be?” she asked.
OK, I guess this is the part where I admit that I’d been fantasizing about this for a long time—being tied up by a beautiful woman, that is. I’d even spent the night after we met staring at the ceiling of my bedroom, wondering what it would be like if Jenn tied me up and had her way with me. So I should have jumped at the chance. But some stupid little voice in my head kept saying that if she knew about these kinky (and embarrassing!) thoughts, she wouldn’t like me. Somewhere in the turmoil of my brain saying ‘no’ and my body screaming ‘yes,’ I managed to nod my head.
She guided me to the side of her bed, and gave me a playful push. As I lay there, face up, my knees hung over the edge and my sneakers dangled a few inches off the floor. She climbed on top of me and pinned my arms over my head with her hands. I squirmed a bit, not wanting to get out, just wanting to test my range of motion. She was bigger and stronger, and if she wanted to hold me down, I wasn’t going anywhere. That fact hit me like a warm, slightly tingly wave.
“Now Becca, I need you to stay just like this. I’m going to get a few things ready.”
“OK,” I managed to sputter out.
Of course, she couldn’t just climb off me. She slowly pulled her body backwards, letting her hands drift down my body. She caressed my arms, my breasts, my hips, and my thighs. A shiver ran through my whole body. When I was able to open my eyes, I saw she was digging for something in her closet.
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to hold perfectly still, knowing that one of the most exciting things in your life was drifting, slowly but inescapably, in your direction. Actually, in a way, I was already helpless. She told me to stay put, and no matter how long she made me wait, I was going to do exactly that. The restraints were just for decoration, at this point.
As I was musing on my self-imposed helplessness, she returned from her closet with four black straps—simple Velcro cuffs with a long, loose strip of material hanging off each. They didn’t look like much, but once they were on, I knew I wouldn’t be going anywhere.
I felt a new rush of desire as she climbed on top of me. Our lips met, and I felt the first cuff encircle my left wrist. When my right wrist was cuffed, she held the straps together in one hand and stretched my arms over my head. With her other hand, she played with my hair and stroked my cheek.
“You look so pretty like this,” she said. I could feel the heat in my cheeks as I blushed. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get you fully tied.”
She helped me shift over, so I was laying the right way in the bed. She tied the cuffs around my wrists together, then tied them to the headboard. I tried pulling my arms down to test her knots, but I could only pull down an inch or so. She scooted back, so she was sitting on my legs. Her smile, and the way she looked down at me, made me blush more.
“I think it’s time we both got a little more comfortable,” she said. She untucked my tank top, and slowly unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. Even as her fingers pulled my pants past my hips, her mouth began kissing my lower belly. That made me forget how to breathe for a few seconds.
She climbed off me, leaving my jeans around my thighs and my midsection exposed. Lifting my right foot, she began untying my sneaker. Shoe and sock sailed out of sight past the end of the bed, and before I knew what was happening her lips were wrapped around my toes.
Having my toes sucked wasn’t even something I’d ever thought about. If I hadn’t been tied up, and already so turned on I could hardly stand it, and totally in awe of the woman doing it, I might have tried to pull my foot away. But instead I just let it happen, and it felt so good I could hardly lie still. It was sort of a tickle mixed with a massage, with the addition of the warm wetness of her mouth. I surprised myself with a soft moan.
Then she changed something, I’m not sure what. The tickling got a lot worse, and I couldn’t help but laugh and pull my foot away. I half expected her to be upset, but she just smiled wider. Without breaking eye contact, she lifted my left foot, and removed my sneaker and sock. One hand wrapped around my ankle, the other around my toes. This time her mouth started at my heel, and I think she was using her teeth. It tickled so bad I was squeaking and bouncing on the bed. She nibbled up my arch, and finally I had to yank my foot out of her grasp.
She pounced on me, her fingers dancing up my sides even as she kissed my neck and cheeks. I was thrashing under her, but with her bodyweight on my hips and my arms tied, I couldn’t avoid the tickling. Her hands found their way under my top, and as they traveled from my hips to my armpits, my top was lifted along with them. She dipped down to kiss and nibble on my stomach, and somehow managed to unclasp my bra and pull it over my head through all my bucking and wriggling.
Now that my upper body was totally exposed, my tank top and bra pushed up over my forearms, Jenn took full advantage of every available spot. It got to where I couldn’t even tell where she was tickling at any moment—I was still reeling from the last sensitive spot, and wondering what the next one would be. When my eyes weren’t squeezed shut, they were looking up into her face, transfigured as it was with a mixture of joy and desire. Her fingers twirled over my nipples, which reminded me suddenly and urgently how turned on I was, but I was laughing too hard to even beg. Too hard to breathe, in fact, and when I couldn’t get enough air to keep laughing she stopped.
“Are you doing OK?” she asked, brushing the hair out of my face and kissing my cheeks.
I couldn’t stop giggling, but I managed to get a few much-needed gasps of air. When I could, I nodded my head.
She smiled, relieved. “Do you want me to untie you, or keep going?”
“Don’t … you don’t have to untie me,” I managed.
She gave me a slow kiss, which felt so good it made me dizzy. She stroked my hair, making a face like she was considering what to do next. “How far do you want to go?”
This was a tough question. So far, it’d been nothing like my fantasies. I was tied up, and being so helpless while her hands were all over me was exactly what I wanted, right? Then again, if she had asked to tickle me, or suggested tickling as a turn-on, I might’ve balked. It wasn’t what I was hoping she’d do. But somehow the look in her eyes, the way she made me squirm and laugh, the way I couldn’t fight the tickling no matter how hard I tried … it was better than any fantasy I’d ever imagined.
I realized she was waiting for my response. “You can,” I took a deep breath, “go as far as you want.”
Her look was skeptical. “You realize, I’m going to tickle you everywhere.” The way she said that last word made me think of one spot in particular, and I wondered whether I was ticklish there, and suddenly I wanted very badly to find out. I smiled and nodded eagerly. She laughed. “God, you really are perfect.”
That’s pretty much the nicest thing everyone’s ever said to me, so I was blushing so hard I nearly missed Jenn hopping off the bed and slowly stripping all of her clothes off. She had a tattoo on her ribs, just under her left breast; a sort of stylized ballerina. Her body was just as beautiful naked as I’d imagined—smooth and thin, but with gentle, graceful curves. I felt a pang of envy, but then remembered she had just called me “perfect” and blushed all over again.
When she climbed back on the bed, she was completely naked and holding the other two cuffs—I had totally forgotten about them. She started kissing my stomach, and slowly inching my underwear down. The anticipation crashed over me; made me feel hot, and breathless, and desperate for her to touch me. Jeans and underwear came off as one. I helpfully held my feet up, together, so she could cuff and tie them just like she had my hands. But once the cuffs were on, she pulled my feet apart and tied them to opposite corners of the bed. I squirmed as much as I could, testing the two or three inches of slack she’d given me. She watched me, then loosened her knots and retied them tighter. Somehow, that felt reassuring, like it was a good thing she’d be torturing me and I couldn’t move an inch to stop it.
“I seem to remember you trying to keep these cute little feet away from me,” she teased. She straddled my right leg, facing away from me so all I could see was her perfectly rounded butt. I felt her mouth close around my toes as before, but this time it was joined by the sensation of her fingernails scrabbling across my arches. I guess my feet are more ticklish than my sides, because I was squealing and giggling instantly. My hips were bouncing and shaking like crazy, since that was really the only thing I could move. Her hips were pressed against my right thigh, making it just that much more impossible to get away. Though I’m pretty sure she was enjoying my wriggling under her.
Next, she tried licking one foot while reaching over and tickling the other. That made it a little easier to separate the amazingly good feelings from her mouth from the tickling feelings—not that the tickling felt bad, it just didn’t turn my whole body to jelly like her mouth could. Just as I felt like I was having trouble catching my breath, she switched to just rubbing my feet, which felt wonderful. It let me relax and breathe. But it also let me think about the urgent warmth in my stomach. I was so desperate for her I couldn’t think straight or form words. I tried any way I could to press myself against her, but she was just out of reach. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more frustrated.
She turned and sat between my legs, and the tickling started again. This was light, though, as if she was testing each spot. She tickled the bottoms of my feet (very ticklish!), then the sides (yes!) and tops (why are the tops of my feet ticklish?!). Next she reached under my legs to tease my calves (a little) and the backs of my knees (a lot!). She squeezed just above my knees, then skipped up and squeezed my hips, both of which drove me crazy.
“You’re ticklish everywhere, aren’t you?” she asked—somewhat unnecessarily, since she had just confirmed it. My legs were rubbery and trembling from all the attention. She hopped off the bed, but returned almost instantly with something in her hand. She leaned in close, and gently parted my folds with one finger. She spread her fingers slightly, holding me open. God, I have never been touched like that.
I finally was able to focus my eyes enough to recognize what she had in her other hand: a small white feather. It swooped in between her fingers, and I almost screamed. It more than tickled; it was like some other thing, like tickling but a thousand times more intense, that doesn’t have a name yet. “You’re so wet,” Jenn whispered, but I almost didn’t hear it over the sound of all the alarms and sirens going off in my head at once.
Within seconds, I was crying. I don’t know why, it was just so overwhelming I couldn’t take it. She heard me whimper and immediately pulled the feather away, but as soon as it was gone I wished it was back, and that left me so confused I didn’t know what to do.
“Are you OK? Do we need to stop?” she asked, concerned.
“Please … please …” I was saying. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t make my mouth say it.
“It’s OK, it’s OK,” she said. She leaned over me, and started to reach for the cuffs on my hands, but I shook my head frantically and grunted out what I hoped sounded like a ‘no’.
She sat back, now very worried and maybe almost as confused as I was. I took a deep breath, and managed to stammer out, “Please … make me …” I couldn’t say any more, but she got the message. Her head dipped between my legs.
The first touch of her tongue was all I needed, and all the fierce, built-up warmth in my stomach exploded through my entire body. Then it was like the feather again—she hadn’t stopped, and the sensations were too much. I couldn’t pull away; any movement I made just pressed me harder into her mouth. Every muscle in my body strained to get me away, but the cuffs held.
It’s hard to describe what happened next, mostly because my brain was completely fried. But it was as if a switch got flipped. All the building tension and intensity and anxiety erupted into pure heat and pleasure, all at once.
My body crashed back down to the mattress feeling like I’d just been shocked everywhere simultaneously. As the world slowly came into focus, I realized Jenn was kissing my stomach and touching herself. She finished with a low, sweet moan, and collapsed onto me, her head on my breasts and her arms hugging my waist as tight as she could.
After she untied me, we cuddled under the covers for a while, her arms wrapped around me and our legs intertwined. Bliss was the word for it. I had almost fallen asleep against her chest when she asked me a question—“So, how was it? Your first time, right?”
“Being tied up was,” I struggled to find the right word, “incredible. And when you were sucking my toes, I almost died it felt so good.”
“And the tickling?” she asked.
I shifted in her arms, pushing my face up to hers, so we were nose-to-nose. Her brown eyes were shining—waiting—and for a moment the roles seemed reversed, as if she were completely under my control.
“If it’s always like that,” I said slowly, “you can tickle me whenever you want.”
