Embraceabl
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Games People Play
By: Nicole Skye
The first part of this story was posted a few days ago, if you wish to bypass what you have all ready read, please scroll down to the end of chapter six and start from there. If you are reading for the first time I hope you enjoy it. For those returning for part two, thanks for coming back.
Please keep in mind any comments or feedback is most appreciated.
Oh yes. . .the important stuff. This is M/F. There is full body tickling. If you are under the age of 18 (Well what are you doing here at all, if that is the case?) but I digress, If you are under the age of 18 please go away.
It had been a long day. Brad rubbed the back of his neck as he drove past the hedges that land marked his driveway. As he approached the house, he noticed the small welcoming light that Claire had left on for his arrival. Entering their home and then locking the front door, he stood for a moment letting the warmth and scent of home seep into him. Placing his briefcase down next to the door, he stepped into the living room to turn off the one lamp left softly glowing. Satisfied that all was well he ventured towards the kitchen. Food was not what he needed now and, if asked, he may not have known quite what he needed. He settled for brandy and after pouring, carried the snifter with him into his study.
He knew that Claire was asleep upstairs and that he would join her eventually but he was to wound up now to be able to rest. After three months, his long days that often rolled into late nights were finally ending. Brad put the glass down softly on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Sitting back against the leather, he propped his feet on the table next to his glass and rested his head against the top of the sofa. As he closed his eyes, his hand raised to undo the knot of his tie; his first deep relaxing breath taken as the tie around his throat relaxed its hold. Another moment of stillness passed before he was on his feet again. Glass in hand he paced within the confines of the room, unable to relax, to wound up to sleep; he hoped the brandy would help.
Rolling his shoulders to work out some of the tension he became aware of the suit jacket he still wore. Placing the brandy down once again, he removed the jacked placing it over the back of a chair. It was at that moment the cell phone in his pocket rang. The noise was startling against the stillness of the room as he hurried to answer it.
“Powers here,” he responded, even as he wondered who could be at the other end. The response came as a purring of his name, her voice unmistakable. Brad stood there not speaking as memories began to surface.
“Brad, certainly you remember me? I know it has been a while but something as special as this was between us . . . .
Certainly you haven't forgotten?”
“No. . . .no, of course I haven't.”
“Mmmmm, that’s good because I've been thinking an awful lot about you lately and I do so miss our times together.”
Her voice pulled at him just the same as it always had and suddenly all the time in between vanished. His body was no longer tired and he was very alert. With just the purring of his name and her sound of longing, his body began to respond. How long had it been since they had last spoken like this? His mind raced, his heart pounded and he noticed that his hands shook slightly.
“I miss you too.” His voice deepened slightly with the admission.
She giggled then and he felt a rushing throughout his body.
“Oh Baby, I miss you too, I miss all the things we used to talk about, all the erotic promises you would whisper in my ear, all your delightful threats….”
Now she had his undivided attention. He was hard, not almost hard, but painfully hard and it had not been a full sixty seconds yet. He reached up to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt, as the warmth in the room became overwhelming.
“What do you miss the most my dear? You have to tell me! You know you're not allowed to hold anything back from me.” Brad was surprised at how quickly their conversations came rushing back to him. With that came the memory of how much their little games of control excited him.
He not only heard her sigh but felt it all the way through him. Another shirt button came undone as he walked across the room to shut the door to the study. Before the door closed, he paused and looked upward, silent and still as he listened for any sound from above. Satisfied that all was quiet upstairs he allowed the door to close with an all but silent click.
Silently moving back across the room he spoke again. “Your delay in responding surprises me, are you wondering if calling me was a mistake?”
“Forgive me.” She spoke the words softly. “It’s just that so many memories fill my mind.”
From seductress to shy young lady, her moods reached out to him. Was she here tonight to tease, share a piece of her soul, seduce or submit? It was simply too early to know what had caused her, after all this time, to call.
“So tell me. You can do it. What do you miss so much that has you calling me?”
With a sigh, she whispered to him, “I miss your command, the control you always seemed to have over me. I miss being bound before you and begging for what you were not so quick to give. I miss the laughter and teasing and the way I would feel, as if I was coming apart at the seams, all because of you.”
Brad smiled; he could not help but feel flattered by her words. He pulled the loosened tie from around his neck and gazed at it, wondering if it had ever known the feel of her wrists struggling against the strength of its silk.
“And when I had you all tied up what was my favorite thing to do to you?”
Her breathing was faster now, he could hear it over the phone and it added another level to his own arousal. His cock created a tent in his pants and he wondered if he should pull his shirt out of his pants to cover it, just in case. She still had not spoken but he knew her excitement level was just as high.
“You know that delaying your responses to me always gets you into more trouble.
Now be a good. . .”
“TICKLING,” her voice interrupted. “You always said that tickling me was your favorite.”
Yep, the shirt was definitely coming untucked to cover the evidence. Brad felt a new rush of excitement down there as her sweet voice spoke the word, tickling! He simply could not help himself around her; he had never been able to. Placing the tie he still had clutched in his right hand on the desk next to him; he then held the phone between his ear and shoulder and pulled his shirt out from his waistband.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was warm, seductive, and curious.
“I,” he grunted as he finished pulling out his shirt, “am getting more comfortable.”
“Oh, I do like the sound of that. So tell me, what are you wearing?”
His laughter bounced off the walls and he quickly clapped his hand over his mouth in an attempt to silence the sound of his mirth. He paused then, still as a deer in the forest as he listened for sounds from above. Convinced that he had not been overheard he got back to the matter at hand.
“What am I wearing; now shouldn’t that be my line? Since you’ve asked, I'll tell you that I am still dressed for work although there is nothing proper about the way I look right now. My pants and belt are still on and although my shirt is on, it’s been pulled away from the waistband and is partially unbuttoned. My tie is off. If you must know a dark gray suit, starched white shirt and multi colored silk tie
“Mmmm. . . . very sexy, the rumpled corporate executive. You don't know how much I wish I were there with you right now.”
“Do you?” Brad replied. “If you were here right now what exactly would you have in mind?” It was such a dangerous question, why was he leading her on like this? Common sense whispered that he end the conversation now and head upstairs. He just could not do it; the urges clamoring throughout his body overrode that whisper of common sense. Then she spoke again and he knew there was no way he was going to hang up now.
“I'm not quite sure you'd go along with what I have in mind. I find it highly appealing but I'm not so sure about you. I seem to recall one of the reasons that we were 'not a suitable match', as you so quaintly put it, stemmed from you being much more conservative than I.” She smiled as she spoke the words knowing that he hated having his words, ‘unsuitable match’, tossed back at him. She waited, knowing that he would rise to the bait. She had him. It may have been only over the phone, but she knew that she had tapped into that not so conservative part of him.
“Tell me what you have in mind vixen. You are here, now, with me. What on earth should we do with each other?”
Brad felt himself practically vibrating with excitement. In the beginning, he had been the seducer, the one who teased and taunted but she had learned from him and then their games had taken on a form of out doing each other. He could hear her settling in and getting ready. When they had played their games by phone, they had both found ways to drive the other crazy. He had a feeling that tonight would be no different.
“Brad, describe to me the room you're in.”
I am in the study of my home. A dark oak panel door leads into the room. If you were to walk in, you could look to the right and see my desk or look to the left and see a brown leather sofa, coffee table and chair all grouped near the fireplace. The room has two large windows in it; one of them has a window seat. Carpet covers the entire floor with an additional oval rug under the furniture by the fireplace. Is that enough detail for you?”
“Perfect,” she replied, “now I want you to take off your shirt for me.”
It was not what Brad expected but he was too into this, he wanted it. He took his shirt off, dropped it on the desk next to his tie. “It’s off.”
“God, I do so love your chest. Remember the time I tied you up and told you that I was going to spend hours playing with your nipples?”
“I remember” Brad said as he looked down at those same nipples and watched them grow hard. “I also remember that you became distracted early enough so that my nipples didn't have to survive the two hour erotic torture you had in mind.”
Sensuous laughter filled his ears. "I always was easily distracted by you, the way you look, the cologne you wear." He heard her inhale as if she were breathing in her fill of him even now.
"Tell me, is it the same leather sofa I remember?"
Her question caught him off guard. . . . the same sofa? His confusion was very short lived and a wicked smile formed as he looked upon it once again. "Why yes, sweetheart, as a matter of fact it is the very sofa that you seem to be thinking of."
It was a quick catch of her breath and the softly whispered "Oh My. . ." that brought him back as if it were only yesterday. The place was definitely new but for as long as he lived that sofa would remain a part of his furnishings and always hold very special memories.
"You know I never thought I would survive that night." Her voice teased at his memories.
"Yes," Brad whispered. "You there, bound to that sofa in nothing but those sheer black panties and thigh high stockings. You looked so incredibly sexy, unable to escape, begging, pleading, laughing and moaning. God, the more you pleaded the easier it became to resist and continue teasing you. I had everything that night, all laid out before me, you on that sofa and every tickle tool and toy I possessed spread out across that coffee table and all the time in the world."
He heard her breath catch in remembrance; he knew he had her now at this moment just as easily as he had her when she had been bound to that sofa.
"You're wet even now aren't you?"
"Yes." Her voice barely above a whisper.
"Do you still have the leather cuffs from that night?"
"Yes, I do have them" The slight tremor of her voice made him smile; she was still responsive to him, still so easy to excite and captivate.
"I want you to get them sweetheart, get them now and put them on you."
Her gasp at his command made him smile; there was no going back now. He didn't know exactly what her intentions had been when she initiated the call but he now held all the cards. He listened closely to see if she were indeed following his order. "Have you got them?"
"Yes", she replied, her excitement evident in her tone.
"Good. I trust that you have them on?"
"I do"
"Excellent my dear. Now, I want you to tell me about that night in as much detail as you can remember."
Chapter 2
She could feel the tingling between her legs as she gathered her scattered thoughts.
"Tell me honey, tell me everything. . . ."
His voice was a seduction to her senses; she wasn't even sure what possessed her to call after all this time. Now that she had, it seemed there was no going back. She had planned to simply tease him, make him remember what it was like to want her. Somewhere along the way she had
lost control of the conversation and now was wearing the restraints he had given her. She felt restless and aroused more so then she had been in a long while. She considered reaching for her vibrator when his voice interrupted.
"What are you thinking at this very moment?"
"Honestly?"
"Of course, I always expected honesty from you. Why should the here and now be any different?"
She sighed, "I was thinking about reaching for my vibrator."
The warmth of his chuckle was like a caress along her nerve endings. "Oh it’s definitely been a long time; it seems you have forgotten you are to ask my permission in such things. Before you ask, you most certainly do not have my permission to use your vibrator right now. In fact I do not want you to touch yourself in any way at all while we are on the phone unless I instruct you to do so."
Her indrawn breath made him smile. He knew she would obey but he also knew that she was sorry that she confessed about the vibrator. He almost regretted jumping ahead and denying her the use of her toy. He always loved hearing her ask his permission as much as he loved the begging and pleading that fell from her lips when he tickled and teased her.
"Now, tell me everything about that night."
"It was a strange start, we had gone out to dinner and you seemed moody or perhaps simply distracted. On the ride home from the restaurant, your focus turned to me. I do remember jumping at your first touch; we had not spoken since entering the car. Your fingers stared playing up my thigh, gliding along the nylon then changing patterns when you reached the skin of my upper thigh. It tickled; it was the light, teasing kind of tickle that makes you want to return to it even as you are trying to escape it. I went to move my leg away from your touch when you closed your hand around the inside of my inner thigh. You told me not to move and then proceeded to tease me with your fingers across my panties and along the sides. I remember the car ride seeming to take forever. You never spoke. Your concentration was mostly on the driving and the rest seemed to be on teasing me out of my mind."
"When we arrived at your condo, I remember starting up the stairs and you stopped me to ask where I was going. I was heading to the bathroom and you told me to hurry, that we would have a nightcap by the fireplace. When I returned, you had a fire started and two drinks set out. You were seated on the sofa. I do remember that there was nothing, no hint or clue as to what you had ultimately planned. You reached for your glass and had relaxed back into the sofa, I had just made it to the coffee table when you stopped me and asked me to remove my blouse."
He felt her sigh as she said, "My heart is racing as much now as it was the moment you asked me to remove my blouse."
"What happened next?"
"It was like you were set upon seducing me, I remember removing my blouse but somewhere along the line the rest of my clothing came off too, all except my stockings and panties, those you left on. Your hands were teasing me, stroking me, driving me wild. I can still remember the realization of the bindings on my wrists, suddenly not being able to move my upper body. I just couldn’t figure out how you did that so fast."
His responding chuckle held a trace of arrogance.
"It was the very first time you restrained me. I always thought that when it happened you would ease me into it. I was caught so off guard that I tried to fight back, to get away. I remember you sitting on my legs to keep me still and putting the cuffs on my ankles. Then you reached down to attach the cuff to something below. You did not attach my left ankle to anything. I know because I clearly remember squirming, trying to get some leverage but my foot kept slipping. It was awfully difficult to get any kind of foot hold when my nylons kept slipping on the leather."
Brad laughed; it was easy to see that moment in his mind . . .
Her wrists, bound together and pulled up over her head. Her right leg was attached to the leg of the sofa, her other leg moving, shifting, slipping along the cushion. The dark black leather cuff around her ankle was a perfect accent to the sheer black stockings she still wore. He loved the wildness in her, the look in her eyes, daring and challenging him one moment, pleading and apprehensive the next. It had been all he could do not to rush things to quickly as he turned towards the coffee table to open the drawer below.
He knelt between the sofa and the open drawer, one by one he pulled out things till they covered the table completely, different types of feathers, powder, some assorted make-up and paint brushes, oils, lotions, q-tips, pens, chop sticks, vibrators, thin strips of leather, some unusual looking jewelry and a blindfold. Once finished he leaned back slightly allowing her to completely take in the sight before her. He watched her eyes widen, her pupils dilate, heard her breath catch and waited for her to look at him.
She finally looked at him, eyes wide as saucers. . . . "You can't do this."
He smiled. . . . "I can and will."
Her voice trembled. . . . "I can't."
He leaned forward, brushed his lips across hers. "You have no choice love." His hand reached for the blindfold and her world went dark.
He continued to kiss her and felt her resistance melt into the sofa. He leaned down and whispered into her ear "tell me love, are you by any chance at all. . . ticklish?"
The question had the desired effect. Once again, she began to squirm and her foot moved helplessly along the end of the sofa seeking freedom. He loved this particular moment, vocalizing his intent, watching the squirming and seeing her head slowly moving back and forth in denial and finally the words, ah those perfect beautiful words. . . .
"No! Don't do this!"
He smiled at the demand in her voice.
"Really, I'm not ticklish!"
Oh yea, she really expected him to believe that one.
"There's no need to waste your time so you might as well let me go now!"
She sounded so very rational, so considerate of his time. It was all he could do to not to laugh, to remain silent and see where she went next.
"Please don't do this!"
Ah, her tremor filled plea. He loved hearing the little tremors, the catches in her voice, her gasps of surprise, passion or outrage.
"You can't do this!"
Oh, but he could and planned to make a long night of it.
"Let me go this instant!"
Impressive, still a touch of bravado left.
"Please. Please don't!"
There it was the sound of surrender in that final plea.
In its own way, this was as much fun as the hands on aspect of tickling. "So you're not ticklish, eh? Then you can just lay back and allow me to see for myself. Look at it this way, if you are not ticklish, then this really will not take any time at all and I'll just explore other ways to make love to you. Understand of course, that I really do have to look everywhere first, just to make sure you're really not ticklish."
He had planned for a long night, he wanted to take his time, see how far he could take her. He noticed a slight tremor to her body but the room was warm, he had seen to that. He returned to her mouth, his lips teasing, seducing, until she trembled and surrendered to the demands of his mouth. Then she was kissing him back, her tongue stroking along his. Her teeth gently nipped at his bottom lip and she was thrilled at the sound of pleasure that she drew from him. He had changed his position somewhere along the way and she could feel the heat of his body pressed along the side of her. His lips moved away from hers and traced a path to her ear.
As his tongue darted out to trace the curve of her ear, his fingers traced a light, teasing and ticklish path from the base of her underarm to her waist. Her body arched and twisted,
as she giggled and laughed in reaction to the tickling. His fingers continued a pattern of lazy movements across her waist as he whispered into her ear "I thought you said you were not ticklish."
She tried to speak through her giggles; it took a moment or so to get out her words. . . . "I . . . I might have been wrong."
"Might have been wrong?" He could not help but laugh at her evasive back peddling. ”I think you need a little more convincing. The words I want to hear from you tonight fall somewhere in the category of, 'I am very ticklish'. . . .'Brad, I want you to tickle me'. . . . 'Brad, I need you to tickle me' and eventually, oh yes, I am saving the best for last. . . . . . . . . I want you to beg me to tickle you!"
He felt her outrage, could see it in her face and knew that without the blindfold her eyes would have said all the things her mouth so wisely held back.
"Perhaps you need another example of what I know to be true of you." With those words, he put both hands to work on her extremely sensitive and ticklish skin. His fingers traced and fluttered up and down her sides and across her belly. He circled her bellybutton with two fingers while his other hand tickled and stroked her hip. Her body squirmed and twisted rolling away from the hand at her hip and right up against him. She was so sensitive and ticklish that it didn't take much to reduce her to quivering helpless giggles.
He looked at his collection of toys and decided to see what she would think of some of his newer things.
His hands went to her breast, starting where her breast met ribs; he began to stroke and tease her skin. Using random strokes and teasing patterns, he played with her breast drawing ever closed but never touching her nipples. He repeated this process a few times until he had her twisting madly on the sofa.
She was slowly being driven crazy. Just how long was he going to tease her like this before touching her nipples? It was becoming too much, he had to touch her nipples before she went completely mad. "Brad, please!" She cried out even as she shifted to have his fingers move up to where she needed him.
He raised his hand from the side of her breast. "Please what?" He could feel the tension in her, the frustration of having to ask.
Her groan was a combination of frustration and desire. "Please touch my nipples, play with them, suck on them, I need to feel your tongue on them."
"Why sweetheart, I thought you'd never ask." He then straddled her hips and leaned forward allowing his tongue to make contact.
Her back arched and a low deep moan escaped her as his mouth finally played over her nipple. His tongue teased and teeth gently scraped and nibbled bringing it to a hard throbbing point of sensation. Smiling in satisfaction, he reached towards the table, picked up one of the pieces of jewelry, and slipped it around the nipple tightening it slightly. Her surprised, deeply indrawn breath rewarded his effort and he quickly went to work on the other nipple. With both nipple rings finally in place he sat back on his heels to view his handy work. They were snug enough to keep her nipples erect and not let her forget they were there. Dangling from the small golden rings was a series of jeweled colored beads. Seeing them on her, he knew the sales clerk had been correct; he definitely would have her wearing these often.
"Beautiful" he whispered and felt a slight tremor course through her body just before his hands reached for her sides and began to stroke the ticklish skin there. She squirmed, bounced and giggled. He watched her breast as they shook and the beads danced across her skin. He smiled. It was perfect!
Chapter 3
She fumbled with the phone, “by the way," her voice whispered out to him "what inspired you to purchase those nipple charms? They were not exactly something I would have expected you to buy."
"I wanted to create a night that neither of us would forget. I spent a few weeks drawing you out, listening to your fantasies and even tickling some of them out of you that you did not so readily share on your own. I had some fantasies of my own that you were unaware of and wanted to see if I could combine mine with yours and see just what would happen. Then it was a simple matter of picking up a few things and simply settling on a time and your place or mine."
She literally moaned into the phone, "even now I can feel the tingling between my legs. I still cannot believe how badly you teased and tortured me that night. I didn't think you would ever allow me to come and when you finally did I was sure I was going to die when you wouldn't stop." She heard his answering moan of satisfaction at her words.
"I want you to do something for me. . ."
"Yes." her voice whispered.
"I want you to spread your legs for me, spread them as if I had you tied to the two corners of the bed." There was but a moment's hesitation before he heard the movement take place. "Are you in position?"
Her "yes" came out of an excited whisper.
"I don't think I ever did ask you, what are you wearing, love?"
The imp in her could not resist, "I am wearing a black silk nightgown with the nipple area completely exposed; oh, and a lipstick red, pair of FMP's."
Once again, his laughter rang out before he was able to control himself. He quickly lowered his voice. "You are a very naughty young lady and if you were here now you would most definitely be punished for such cheeky insolence. Now I will give you one more chance to tell me the truth. What are you wearing?"
She could not help but giggle, she loved when he played lord and master of the manor. With a sigh, she responded "all I am wearing are the black cuffs that you instructed me to put on earlier"
"Good," the satisfaction in his voice evident. Now, I want you to slide the fingers of your right hand slowly down between your breasts, down your belly, across your bellybutton and stop just at the top of your lips and not a millimeter further." He could see her in his mind, her fingers making that languorous trek down her body. He knew that she would speed through the sensation much faster then he wished but there was nothing he could do about that. "Remember sweetheart, stop exactly where I told you to," He heard and felt her sigh of frustration course through him.
"Now, since it’s been a while, tell me how you've been keeping yourself down there? Are you completely shaved? Have you allowed nature to take its course? Tell me, if I were to see you now, this minute, spread open in front of me, what would I see?" He knew that his question embarrassed her slightly, her shaving to please him had been easy enough but to have her describe herself to him could leave her somewhat shy and tongue tied.
"I . . .”
He could visualize her wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue.
"I, uh. . .there is a closely trimmed triangle right on top, as for the rest of me, a bikini wax and a small amount of close shaving keeps the rest of me completely smooth."
"Mmmmm. . . . that sounds perfect sweetheart. Now, I want you to take those fingers that I know have been itching to touch yourself and slip them between your lips, coating them with your creamy wetness. Then swirl them twice around your clit but no more than those two touches.
"It was simply impossible for her to withhold the sound of pleasure that her fingers produced. He remembered so well all the sounds she would make and said, "Stop now, this very moment, bring both your hands up, and rest them beneath the pillow under your head"
He heard her sound of protest; he could feel the battle within her to take her pleasure further. She was alone and he waited for her to make the choice.
"Please," she whispered, "just one perhaps two more touches?"
"NO!" "Now place your hands where I instructed you to."
He began to speak again, taking for granted that she would do exactly as instructed. She called him, she wanted to play and she sent them both down this particular memory lane. If she wanted him to relive that evening in his mind then he was going to do his best to make sure that she not only remembered, but felt it also.
"Now, go on and tell me more of that night."
She shifted on the bed, finally pulling one hand from beneath the pillow to cradle the phone back next to her ear. She then glanced at her other arm still lodged under the pillow. She considered pulling it from beneath the pillow then shrugged and kept it in place.
"You had just finished putting the nipple charms on me and tickling me. It was such a strange sensation, the pressure on my nipples and slight ticklish movement of the beads across my breast. Every time I moved, they did also. It was a little unnerving, those random little sensations that happened without your touch but what really threw me, was you asking me that question. . ."
Chapter 4
His breath caught as he looked down upon her. There was a glisten of sheen across her skin and the jeweled colored beads at her breast became brilliant from the firelight. He actually felt his fingers itch to touch her, stroke her, tickle her from head to toe. Her face still reflected the laughter from the tickling of her sides as she caught her breath.
"Now love, where should I start?"
She had not expected that question. Never, any time that he had tickled her, had he asked such a question, offered up a choice. He simply tickled for his pleasure and hers, as he had shown her often enough. She opened her mouth to speak. Nothing came out. She tried again, licking her lips quickly at first in the hopes that the additional moisture would help her to articulate. Again, she opened her lips to speak only to realize that her brain still hadn't completely caught up with her current circumstance.
Brad waited patiently for her to catch up to speed. It didn't happen often that she was caught short, she always had a quick retort, insightful comments, the sometimes sarcastic comment and quick wit to apply to all situations she encountered. He was silently thrilled that he had managed to catch her so off guard and wondered how long he could keep her there. His fingers slowly went to work, tracing feather light, tickly touches across her face, her neck, down a path between her breast and straight to her bellybutton circling it once then once again as he repeated the question. . . . "Where should I start?"
It was almost impossible to concentrate on the words as his touch caused chaotic signals along her nerve endings. She thought about the coffee table, remembering how everything looked laying out on the table and a shudder went through her at the very thought of most of those things touching her skin. His fingertips never stopped tracing random patterns on her belly and she was becoming unnerved. "Make love to me!" Her voice called out the words louder, harsher then she had intended. Where had that panicked plea come from? Inside her head her voice was suppose to seduce him away from what he so obviously planned.
His fingers never stopped teasing her skin. He was taking away her ability to focus and he only smiled, shook his head and softly said, no! One teasing hand became two and duel fingertips headed down past her bellybutton trailing off in opposite directions to that area where groin and thigh meet. Panicked giggles and squirming rewarded his actions.
"Stop, please. . . stop!"
Fingers paused, a hairs breath above her skin. He could feel the heat rising off her skin and his fingers trembled ever so slightly in anticipation.
He waited.
"My feet, start at my feet."
Brad moved into position at the end of the sofa sitting Indian style and settling back into the armrest and corner of the sofa. Her tethered right foot shifted restlessly. Her left foot had squeezed itself in between the cushion and the back of the sofa. He wished she could have seen herself from this prospective. All she had managed to do was widen her legs opening herself up to him even more.
He took one finger, glided up and on top of her right nylon covered foot: ever so softly up to and around her ankle his finger slid...and then down to her heel, softly tickling in little circles on the heel. His finger then traced slowly up her arch to tickle at the base of her toes and then tried to wiggle in between her toes.
Throughout this her foot twitched about, caught at the end of the short length of rope attached to the cuff. She tried for stoicism at first but that one soft touch had her completely undone. She giggled then bit her bottom lip, then gave up and giggled some more.
"No. . . all ready, please no. . . hee hee hee heeee . . . it tickles so much"
"Look at that, how tough can you be if just the lightest touch of my finger on your foot sends you over the edge? Tickle. . . tickle little one" and with that he brought both his index fingers into play tracing up and down her helpless arch then swirling mindless patterns around the ball of her foot.
He could feel the shivers of reaction run up her leg as she twisted, squirmed and giggled.
"Oh God. Brad pleeasseeeeeee . . stop. . . ha haaaaaa. . .
All of his fingers suddenly came into play and began to explore and tickle every square inch of her foot. The nylons worked with him, aiding his touch to send her closer and closer still to the brink of ticklish insanity. Her body thrashed about sliding slightly down the sofa even closer to his. He looked up from her foot to see that she was much closer to him now, her panties near enough to touch without having to change his position. He saw her upper body stretched tighter, accentuating ticklish targets that he hoped to explore.
He took the opportunity to retie her ankle so she couldn't move away.
Her breath came out in panting giggles. Sensations still zig zagged across her foot and up her leg causing her to twitch. She was just becoming more aware of everything as he finished retying her ankle.
"Brad, please, no more tickling. I can't take it."
"Then what shall I shall I do with your feet?"
"Nothing! No more, no more feet!"
Not being the answer he was looking for he began again, this time his left hand traced up and down her foot and then he brought his nails into play. They glided effortlessly along the sole of her foot seeking out all her foot's wrinkles and creases. His nails darted here and there, delicately along the undersides of her toes right into the base where the toe met her foot. Her laughter took on a frantic pitch, her head shaking in denial even as sensation after sensation assaulted her nervous system.
She cried out around through laughter. . . "Please, stooopppppp, any. . . .anything but this”
"Anything but this, hummm, all right then sweetheart, offer me your other foot."
"Offer you what?" Her confusion was evident in her tone.
"Offer me your other foot sweetheart, the one that you have buried behind the cushion. I am simply complying with your request of '. . . anything but this.' Now, to get me to agree to cease and desist in something I am so thoroughly enjoying, you have to offer something equally or more enticing"
He let those words hang between them and waited. The foot in question shifted and moved if possible even deeper into the body of the sofa. Seconds passed without a response from her. He saw that her body was starting to calm down from the tickling and decided to accept her lack of a quick response as her acceptance to continue with her bound foot.
Chapter 5
He leaned forward towards the coffee table reaching for a stiff bristled paint brush that he'd used on her once before. He held it up with a flourish to show her but saw that he still had her masked. Placing the brush back down he decided that now was definitely time to allow her to see just what she was in for. Kneeling on the cushion to lean over her, he stopped to nuzzle her breast. She startled at the contact and the beads bounced with her movements. He removed her mask and watched as her eyes blinked a few times as her vision adjusted itself to the light.
She smiled at him, "You're letting me go?"
"Not even a remote possibility sweetheart. I have noticed that there is a world of ticklish places on you to explore and I thought I would take a closer look. I think its time for you to see also."
He leaned into her, letting her body feel a bit of the weight of his. His lips nuzzled against her neck then feather light kisses along her ear. In the softest of whispers he said "I'm going to tickle you till you come" he finished with a little lick to the inner shell of her ear and a quick puff of breath. His words and the teasing of his lips against her ear produced tingles of sensation that ran up and down her spine.
"Oh My God," she whispered as she felt his fingers stroke the palms of her hands lightly. "Don't do that, it really does tickle"
"Aw. . . poor baby, it does?" He slid two fingers along and in between each of her fingers, tracing the side of her hand down to her wrist to feather back and forth across her pulse. His fingers slid back into her palms playing lightly there and between her fingers. He leaned over again to kiss her, his fingers still tickling her palms.
She giggled and squirmed beneath him. "Please, you're driving me crazy and this is such a silly place to be driven crazy by."
Smiling down at her, he kissed her again. "No such thing as a silly place sweetheart. All ticklish places are good."
His fingers continued their feather like caresses past her wrists and across her inner arms towards her elbows. Throughout this, she squirmed and twisted, begged, giggled and pleaded for him to stop. He definitely planned on stopping but he had a little more distance to travel. Fluttering fingers teased her inner elbows and then began the final leg of their tickling journey. The moment his fingers began to tickle her inner arms between elbow and armpit she renewed her efforts to break free. Her giggles became all out laughter as he stroked that sensitive skin. She begged through the laughter but there was no stopping him yet; he had his target in sight and the next stop was her perfectly smooth and extremely ticklish armpits.
"No. . .no. . . nooooo." she cried out through her laughter, "I'm begging you, and I’ll do anything but please not there."
"Oh honey, I'm sorry but you had your chance earlier when you promised anything."
Her body thrashed with increased vigor at his words. His fingers lost their place on her inner arms and he knew that a change in his position was called for. Pushing himself back to a kneeling position, he decided to straddle her. She was still laughing and squirming, desperately tugging to bring her arms down as he straddled her hips. With a knee on either side of her hips, he lowered himself gently on top of her pushing her a bit deeper into the cushion effectively subduing most of her movement.
"Now where was I? Oh yes, right here I believe," and his two hands reached right back into the bend of her elbow to begin again.
"Noooohohohohohoooo. . . You've already been there . . .," she cried out as her brain registered the continuing torment to nerve endings all ready over stimulated.
"That's true, I was there, somewhere, but you made me lose my place so I had to start from the middle again. If you want, you can ask me to go right to your armpits and I'll be happy to bypass this area." His fingers never stopped their light, feathery strokes along her inner arm. He watched as goose bumps came up across her arms. He knew that this area was a particularly sensitive spot for her, which made it impossible for him to resist teasing her there.
"Bastard" she hissed at him and then erupted in giggles all over again at his touch.
"Naughty little ticklish girl, such language out of such a sweet mouth. Do you know what happens to ticklish little girls who curse? Why they just get more tickles until their laughter washes away all those bad, bad words. In fact I have just the thing to tickle those words right out of you." He reached over to the coffee table and picked up two different brushes. The artist brush was made of thickly packed bristles, soft and cut to a sharp angle and the makeup brush had a big soft head full of bristles.
Her eyes widened at the brushes slow decent to her inner arms, one brush in each of his hands. Her head shook in denial, even as her mouth began to form words of protest the brushes made contact with skin. He moved the brushes along her inner arms as if to a tune only he could hear.
Nerve endings rebelled, sending chaotic signals to her brain. The touch of those brushes along that ultra sensitive area of skin was more than she could take. The laughter and scream those dual sensations created merged together to produce one of the most tortured sounds he had ever heard her make. Her eyes closed, her mouth gaped open and nothing more came forth as her body continued to pitch and squirm away form the sensations that overwhelmed her.
Quickly enough the brushes began to lightly circle their destination. Around and around the perimeter of her armpits they teased and danced. Her voice had returned and her laughter and giggles were the sweetest of music to his ears. Tears glistened on her lashes and fell across her cheeks as she begged through her laughter for him to stop.
Stop?
He was only getting started.
Chapter 6
He whispered into the phone, "do you remember the first time I tickled you?"
She laughed at the question. "How could I ever forget? We were sitting together at eating ice cream cones and you let drops of ice cream splash on my foot. Who knew that would even lead us down the path it did? You know, it occurs to me that you might have done that on purpose."
He laughed then, "Sweetheart, that was no more on purpose then you putting your foot on my leg and instructing me to clean it up. If we had been somewhere private, I would have brought your foot to my mouth and licked it clean. I had to settle for the G rated version and take a napkin to dab away the ice cream. That I allowed my fingers to stroke your arch at that time was simply unavoidable. You gave me the perfect excuse to tickle your foot. Between watching you lick and enjoy your ice cream the way you did and discovering you were ticklish, I decided to do
everything in my power to make sure there was a second date."
"Mmmm. . . . a second, a third and others after that. I should have realized how much trouble I was in by the second date."
"Okay, here's one for you," he found himself smiling at the memory, "how did I manage to tickle you on our second date?"
"Hummmm. . . that was so long ago, let me see. . . . Oh, I remember! We were watching some movie, it might have been Predator, and during a highly suspenseful scene, you pounced on me and announced yourself to be the tickle monster. Silly me, I believed at that time that you simply had a thing for my feet. You tickled me all over but it seemed to be my feet that really drew your attention. I learned that you had a thing for more than just my feet."
"Every inch of ticklish skin on you drew me like a magnet. Your feet may have been my passion but your body was my playground. The stronger you reacted, the more enticing that location became. Do you remember the one place I learned set you off even if I so much as threatened to tickle you there?"
For the longest moment, she stayed silent. He could hear her breathing and wondered if she would answer on her own or required coaxing. He heard her softly clear her throat and in a voice so soft; he had to strain to hear her, she said "my underarms!"
"Yes, that wonderful little area that you kept protected for so long but I finally discovered it. Even the threat of my tickling you there could make you beg for mercy almost instantly. Tell me; are your arms still under your pillow? If I had the privilege of seeing you now, would your armpits be exposed, awaiting my touch?"
"Yes." There was the slightest tremor in her response.
"And are they as ticklish now as they were that night?"
"God, yes. . ."
Chapter 7
He quickly laid the brushes on her chest. His fingers literally itched to touch that soft area of her body. Wasting no time his fingers picked up where the brushes had left off and began to feather his fingertips softly around the perimeter. Her body quaked beneath him, her laughter and begging urged him on.
"Bradddddd. . .Pleasehehehe. . . .Stohohohopppppppp. No, heeheeheeheeeeeeee, more, aieeeeee, tickles. I can't take it." Her head thrashed back and forth, "I can't heeeeeheeeeeeheee, toooo much tickles... Pleaseeee!"
"Of course you can sweetheart," he crooned. "It’s just my fingers very gently slipping closer and closer to the very center." His fingers did indeed match every action to his words. He knew her fear of being tickled there to be real; he also knew that this was pure ticklish agony for her. She had once confessed to him that unlike other areas that created a sexual response in her; being tickled under her arms didn't connect that way for her. This was her Waterloo, the one spot that pushed her over the edge with the littlest of effort. He continued to tickle her there, ever so lightly, fingers stroking this way and that, up and down, in and out. She was wild with laughter and begging until she cried out her surrender and again, the promise of anything. He knew he was pushing her further there then ever before. He took one more leisurely pass up to the inside of her elbow and then back down again employing his fingertips and the edges of his nails to push just slightly past her limits. With a sigh of great reluctance, he finally stopped tickling.
He smiled down at the picture she presented. Her face flushed, her eyelashes sparkled with tears and her hair was a mess. He softly swept damp curls off her forehead and allowed her time to collect herself. He made himself wait until she was back to slow deep breathing before taking this to the next level. She had surprised him so far, he had taken a chance going for her armpits this early in the game but somehow it had worked. She had laughed, begged and even cried out her surrender but she hadn't used her safe word.
She finally opened her eyes to look at him. "Let me go" she whispered.
'No," he responded just as softly. "We haven't gotten to 'anything' yet!"
"Would you at least get off me so I can move a bit?"
He watched as she worked to alter her position on the sofa. Her unbound foot remained buried between the cushion and the back of the sofa. She used what little leverage she could find to arch her back slightly which raised up her chest and belly slightly, reminding him of areas yet to be tickled.
"Now sweetheart, I want you to beg me to tickle your tummy. I want you to convince me that there is nothing in the world you want more than me tickling you right there, right now." He watch her eyes widen as she absorbed the impact of his words. He sat next to her crowding her ever so slightly and taking note of the rapidness of her pulse. His fingers began to toy with the rings around her nipples. "Am I to take your silence as an invitation to return to your underarms? His fingers quit their feathering teasing strokes across her nipples and started to swirl them down the sides of her breasts. "I'm more than happy to do so and I promise you, once I start there again I will not be so quick to stop."
At first she could not look away from his eyes, his look drew her, compelled her to give into his wishes. Her thoughts whirled, making it impossible to latch on to any one coherent thought.
. . . Beg me to tickle you
She couldn't bear to have him touch her underarms again; she didn't know what to say. Her body jumped as he began to toy with her nipples once again. The pressure of the jewelry had kept them hard and so incredibly sensitive. Sensation coursed from her nipples straight to her pussy. She could feel even more wetness collect there and wanted nothing more then to feel him touch her there.
"Please tickle me"
Those first words came out so softly that he almost didn't hear them. He only had to wait another heartbeat of time for her next words.
"Brad I want you to tickle my tummy, please tickle me there. I especially want you to tickle me on my lower belly, right below my navel and further." She raised her pelvis, undulated her hips, visually offering up her belly to him. "Brad, please. Please tickle me!" It was all he could do not to pounce at that moment; his eyes held hers as he raised his hands and allowed his fingers to wiggle ever so slightly, right above her belly. He held her eyes with his, noting the swift play of emotions right before her eyes closed and her head shook slightly in denial. "Open your eyes sweetheart, watch as I lower my fingers to your tummy and give you just what you begged me for."
Her lower lip quivered ever so slightly, her eyes remained tightly shut and still the negative shake of her head. "I can't, please. . . . no more. . . ."
"Watch me; I want to see your eyes as I give you what you so sweetly begged for just seconds ago. I want you to see my fingers lower and finally tickle the area that you just begged me to tickle. "
He reached down slowly, ponderously, taking as much time as possible to let his fingertips reach her skin. As they made contact, he realized that she was a mass of goose bumps, which pleased him even more. His fingers drifted around her ribs, eliciting peals of giggles, varying in loudness and intensity when they wandered across her most sensitive areas. Her body arched and twisted exposing more of her ribs and belly to him. He left no inch of skin untouched as he teased and tormented her. She begged and pleaded through her laughter for his mercy, knowing none would be given. His teasing continued; his gaze triumphant as his fingers continued his torturous trek from her ribs to her lower belly. Her muscles quivered and shook under his fingers as his wandering course brought him closer and closer to her belly button. Her laughter became panicked, as his fingertip circled that indentation on her lower belly.
"Which do you want to feel first sweetheart, my finger or my tongue tickling you there?
His question only incited her more, her struggles confirming yet another hot spot he could no longer wait to explore.
"I think we'll start with my fingers"
"No, please no. . . ."
"My tongue then!"
Giving her no chance to respond he leaned in and swirled his tongue into her bellybutton. She screamed as her body reacted to the sensation by thrusting her belly into his tongue then concaving as much as possible. His mouth followed her and his hands reached for her hips. The play of his tongue was relentless against that dimpled area of skin. Her innie, by its existence alone, invited, beckoned and lured him to explore, to taste, to stroke and tease, to seek inward and discover what ticklish nerves hid within its protective fold.
While his tongue continued its exploration of her belly button, his fingers traced over the skin pulled across her hips. Hips he knew oh so well; another area where she was so totally sensitive and ticklish. His fingers played over that skin and across her pelvic bone, his strokes and touches changing so fast that it was impossible to anticipate and prepare for. His tactics changed completely as he reached the fleshier area on the side of her hips. Here his touch was firmer, deeper, a vibrating sort of tickle. Over her hips, his fingers tormented in an ever-changing pattern designed to drive her mad. As his fingers passed over her panties, she moaned through her laughter as her pelvis arched, pushing her herself into his fingers. Her panties were soaked, testimony to just how effected she was by his tickling and teasing. He ran his fingers up and down across the length of her; pressing and stroking along her folds, teasing her clit.
“Brad, please! You’re driving me crazy.”
“What is it you want darling?” His fingers paused, the faintest of pressure maintaining contact against her. Once again, she pushed against his fingers. His retreated, denying her the sensations she sought. He loved teasing her. He could feel her need surrounding him like a living, breathing, tangible thing. Her loud moan of frustration made him smile.
“Please touch me. I need. . . .
“Yes, baby, tell me what you need.”
“My clit, please touch my clit, I need to come so bad.”
His finger reached for her clit again, the lightest, fluttering touch. Her pelvis arched upward as his other hand reached in to stroke and tickle along the tendons where thigh and groin meet.
Her reaction was instantaneous; her movements frantic, her laughter panicked and off the scale. Through her laughter she begged “No… please stop, it tickles too much; I can’t stand it.”
His fingers paused, barely resting on that delicate ticklish area of her groin. With the tip 0f his other index finger, he softly stroked her clit and shook his head in regret. “I was having so much fun. Oh well, your choice" and his fingers left her body.
”Aarghhh! You do not play fair! Oh! That is so not right, not right at all”
Again, he gently stroked her clit through her panties, his gaze focused there. He then leaned in to kiss it gently. "I'm not trying to be fair sweetheart," he murmured as he kissed her clit once more; softly, the caress was tantalizing, feather light. “However, I understand" He removed all pressure from her body.
“Nooooo. “ She wanted to sob out her frustration, as her clit tingled, ached and throbbed with need
His mouth moved within a hair’s breath of her clit; her back arched trying to make a connection but he moved away with nothing but a quick puff of air to her clit.
“Please. . . “She writhed in her bonds. “Brad, please.”
“Yes baby, what do you want me to do?”
“Everything, everything that you were doing before.”
The heel of his palm gently pressed against her as his fingertips fluttered across her clit.
“Mmmmm yes, especially that.”
"Even this?" he asked as he stroked the fingertips of both hands across the sensitive ticklish skin of her groin with four fingers on each side. Tickling and strumming lightly over the tendons his fingers randomly brushed across her clit.
”Oh my God, it tickles so much.”
“I know it does baby but the choice is yours.” With those words, he removed his hands from her body.
Her confusion evident as she struggled to choose between something she loved and something that drove her out of her mind.
He leaned back, allowing her to wrestle with the idea for a moment
Her pussy flooded with wet heat as his eyes met and captured hers; trapping her more so by his gaze then the restraints she wore.
As he watched her, he thought it about time to rid her of yet another barrier.
Chapter 8
He lightly scraped his nails along the back of her thighs. Her body reacted, literally raising her thighs and butt off the sofa as she squealed out her surprise to the sensation. He utilized that technique on the backs of her thighs repeatedly as her body raised, twisted and squirmed. Her unbound leg found its way out from its nesting place between the cushions and planted itself, heel down in the center of the cushion, as she rose once again to avoid the tickling of those nails. He picked that perfect moment, as her hips raised in the air and her senses overwhelmed by sensation and laughter, to pull down her panties. She struggled as her cries of “no” filled the room.
Her free leg moved to widen her stance attempting to prevent the inevitable. She had not moved fast enough and the panties now hung limply from her bound leg.
Her response delighted him. She had viewed those panties as a line of defense and had struggled, albeit a few seconds too late to win that small skirmish. She was truly more vulnerable now; her thigh high stockings did nothing but emphasize and enhance her nudity. Now, the only thing left to do was to secure the ankle he had left free all this time.
She knew he was going for her free leg. ‘You can't let him get it,’ whispered a little irrational voice in the back of her head. Irrational or not, she clung to the thought and resisted with all her might.
The struggle ended almost as quickly as it began. Stepping around the back of the sofa, he pulled the last tether up and secured her ankle. He watched her leg move about as she struggled and saw his mistake. He wanted her foot up, higher against the back of the sofa. He removed the tie from her ankle and brought it along the back of the sofa to attaching it to rear leg on the other side. She fought as she could but her efforts were futile at best.
He walked back around to the front to view his handiwork. He had left her very little room to squirm. Her arms were stretched above her head, her body taught, her legs spread, open and secured. Her eyes followed him as he circled, excitement, fear, anticipation, trepidation all reflected in her gaze.
“I've dreamt about this, so many times;” he spoke the words softly, his voice hypnotic as he settled himself between her legs. Her attempts to struggle ceased as she watched him. He felt her trembling but knew with complete certainty that it was excitement that had taken over. There may have still been a hint of fear or anxiety but it now just fed her excitement. "I've waited, a life time it seems, to have you like this; my own ticklish damsel in distress. Poor baby; all tied up and so very, very ticklish!”
His hands reached towards the top of her left thigh, his fingers caressing, teasing as he began to remove her stocking. Her voice fluctuated between a moan and a sigh as the stocking began a slow glide down her leg. He took his time, lingering, drawing out the sensations for her. He was in no hurry; he loved the contrasting feels, the silkiness of the stocking, and the smooth warm feel of her thigh. His fingers fluttered over her skin; light, teasing, tickly, touches that had her moaning, sighing and giggling.
Her toes clenched then spread and her foot arched, all in reaction to the sensations she experienced. Those movements beckoned to him, inviting his attentions. By leaving her leg and foot untouched for so long, it had simply heightened her level of sensitivity. He inched forward a bit and brought his mouth to her toes, his lips making contact as his fingers began to stroke up and down the bared skin of her thigh. She cried out, her mind reeling at the dual sensations, as she lay there, unable to move, barely able to squirm as sensation after sensation coursed through her body. His teeth began to nibble through her stocking, anxious to feel her bared toes on his tongue.
Her foot twitched spasmodically as the nylon gave way under his teeth. The moment he felt the flesh of her toes in his mouth, the second his tongue swirled across the length of her foot where her toes join her foot he could the rush of excitement throughout his body. She went straight to his head like the finest of wines, heady and rich.
Her indrawn hiss of breath and her cry of “Oh My God” encouraged him to continue. By the time his teeth had effectively freed her toes from the nylons, he had teased the top of her stocking all the way down to the restraint at her ankle. He leaned back slightly to view his handiwork, a woman ravished by her lover. The length of her leg now bare to his touch; her toes glistened wetly, flexing and twitching slightly as he gazed at them. The slightest bit of nylon still clung to her foot from the base of her toes up to the restraint surrounding her ankle while the other leg remained perfectly attired.
He moved towards her foot again, his hand gliding up the back of her calf as his lips, teeth and tongue played about her toes. His fingers feathered themselves in and about the hollow behind her knee as his other hand reached for her heel.
She cried out through her laughter, sensations rolling over her in waves as he proceeded to tickle her in three places at once. One sensation at a time would have been manageable. Two at once, certainly more difficult but she was still holding her own. It was his nails making contact with her heels in that light, teasing pattern of his that combined with the other two sensations started to push her past the edge of sanity. She wanted to beg, to plead with him for mercy but her laughter was to consuming.
Chapter 9
Slowly he pulled back, one ticklish point after another felt the last of his tormenting fingers. Laughter poured from her and her movements reduced to trembles and involuntary twitches. He had taken her beyond her ability to struggle against the sensations. She had finally let go of the fight and given in to the tickling. He positioned himself higher between her thighs and waited a moment longer. Her breathing was beginning to calm as he began softly stroking her. He loved how wet she was, how open and inviting, just waiting for him. He then moved his attention to her clit with feather light touches across the hood; her sigh reached out to him
Brad looked up at her. "Beg me to make you come."
She did! She didn't even think twice, she was beyond the point of shame. She begged, promised him anything if only he would make her come.
He grinned like a naughty child then and feathered his fingers from where thigh meets groin down and over the top of her stocking and then trailing down the length of her right leg. It tickled so much through the stocking but was nothing compared to the feel of his fingers once again tickling her foot.
"Nooooo. . . she wailed through her laughter. . . you promised to make me come."
"Oh sweetheart, I will make you come, and it is my tickling that will make it happen."
Over and over his fingers feathered across her sole and in between her toes. Up and down each toe he played, seeking out each ticklish spot, every sensitive nerve ending. Occasionally he would drag his nails lightly across her heels making her scream out in laughter. He picked that time to bring his other hand into play reaching up to stroke and tickle her pussy. The wiggling of his fingers there matched the wiggling on her sole. She was lost, awash in sensation and laughter; she did not even have the strength to beg him to stop. All she knew was the amazing feeling of slowly being tickled to death.
Every time his fingers, dripping wet from her juices, tickled across her clit it pushed her closer to the edge. His fingers were tireless as they moved across her. He wanted to give her an orgasm that she would never forget. His fingers never stopped tickling along the sole of her foot, the lightest of tickling strokes across her sole, across the ball of her foot and underneath her toes. Every touch on her foot along with the tickling of her clit pushed her closer and closer to orgasm.
She felt weightless; she could no longer feel anything but the nonstop tickling her body was enduring. It felt as if there were a live wire between her sole and her clit and he was the conduit. She had never been teased and tickled like this in her life and wasn't sure she would survive. His fingers on her clit tickled so very much, she had no idea it was possible to be that ticklish there. All she needed was the right touch, the right amount of pressure but he held back. The sensations were starting to overwhelm her; she could focus on nothing but the endless tickling of her foot and the mimicking feel of the touch on her clit. Fingers swiftly feathered across her sole, matching fingers swiftly feathered across her clit. A finger traced from heel to base of toes, a finger traced, feather light, through her swollen lips to end just at the very tip of her.
Further and further, he pushed her, her release shimmering just within reach. Sensations changed as his nails came in to play on her feet; their friction against her nylon covered foot pushed her into a deeper level of ticklishness. His fingers picked that time to press themselves against her clit in tight, teasing, maddening, little circles. That was simply more then her over stimulated senses could take. She screamed as she orgasmed beneath his hands.
Chapter 10
It was a good twenty minutes before Brad could pull himself together and get dressed. Throughout that time, she purred and cooed at him and giggled and just kept talking. Over an hour had passed since he’d come home and the last thing on earth he would have imagined was her calling, and the hottest, most erotic phone call he could ever remember having. He looked around the room making sure that nothing seemed out of place.
It was time to say good-bye and they both seemed to sense it at the same time.
“Are you sorry I called?” Her voice softly spoke the question.
He was not sure how to answer at that moment.
“Tonight was very special for me.”
“It was for me too. I am so glad that I was able to reach you. You never know, I might call again."
Brad’s mouth opened to speak; she interrupted before he could start.
“Wait, before you say anything to that, allow me just to say, good bye.”
With those parting words, the line went dead. Brad hit the end button on the phone then turned it off completely.
Walking out of the study, he turned off the last light and headed slowly, quietly up the stairs. Reaching their bedroom door he paused, his hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath and entered. He both opened and closed the door softly, startling as the bedside light came on. He turned then to face Clair and saw that she was sitting up in the middle of the bed. Her eyes were wide and her hair mussed from the pillows as she looked up at him, one hand still on the phone next to her.
He leaned back against the door with a grin that was positively predatory.
“Interesting welcome tonight.”
Claire blushed under the intensity of his look. As his gaze traveled across her, that blush intensified as his eyes noted the leather restraints that were evident around her wrists and ankles. Looking closer at the bed, he saw the straps attached to the four corners of the bed. He raised one eyebrow in question.
"You did instruct me to put these on earlier, didn't you?"
He nodded as he started for the second time that night to get undressed.
“It will amuse me to no end to watch you try and keep quiet. You know of course that after that performance downstairs that your body has a lot to answer for.”
He finished undressing and walked to the foot of the bed as she watched him, her breath catching as she admired her husband’s nude form.
“That will not be a problem,” her voice breathless. “The children are away at your parent’s home for the weekend.”
His predatory smile returned as he reached for her right ankle.
By: Nicole Skye
The first part of this story was posted a few days ago, if you wish to bypass what you have all ready read, please scroll down to the end of chapter six and start from there. If you are reading for the first time I hope you enjoy it. For those returning for part two, thanks for coming back.
Please keep in mind any comments or feedback is most appreciated.
Oh yes. . .the important stuff. This is M/F. There is full body tickling. If you are under the age of 18 (Well what are you doing here at all, if that is the case?) but I digress, If you are under the age of 18 please go away.
It had been a long day. Brad rubbed the back of his neck as he drove past the hedges that land marked his driveway. As he approached the house, he noticed the small welcoming light that Claire had left on for his arrival. Entering their home and then locking the front door, he stood for a moment letting the warmth and scent of home seep into him. Placing his briefcase down next to the door, he stepped into the living room to turn off the one lamp left softly glowing. Satisfied that all was well he ventured towards the kitchen. Food was not what he needed now and, if asked, he may not have known quite what he needed. He settled for brandy and after pouring, carried the snifter with him into his study.
He knew that Claire was asleep upstairs and that he would join her eventually but he was to wound up now to be able to rest. After three months, his long days that often rolled into late nights were finally ending. Brad put the glass down softly on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Sitting back against the leather, he propped his feet on the table next to his glass and rested his head against the top of the sofa. As he closed his eyes, his hand raised to undo the knot of his tie; his first deep relaxing breath taken as the tie around his throat relaxed its hold. Another moment of stillness passed before he was on his feet again. Glass in hand he paced within the confines of the room, unable to relax, to wound up to sleep; he hoped the brandy would help.
Rolling his shoulders to work out some of the tension he became aware of the suit jacket he still wore. Placing the brandy down once again, he removed the jacked placing it over the back of a chair. It was at that moment the cell phone in his pocket rang. The noise was startling against the stillness of the room as he hurried to answer it.
“Powers here,” he responded, even as he wondered who could be at the other end. The response came as a purring of his name, her voice unmistakable. Brad stood there not speaking as memories began to surface.
“Brad, certainly you remember me? I know it has been a while but something as special as this was between us . . . .
Certainly you haven't forgotten?”
“No. . . .no, of course I haven't.”
“Mmmmm, that’s good because I've been thinking an awful lot about you lately and I do so miss our times together.”
Her voice pulled at him just the same as it always had and suddenly all the time in between vanished. His body was no longer tired and he was very alert. With just the purring of his name and her sound of longing, his body began to respond. How long had it been since they had last spoken like this? His mind raced, his heart pounded and he noticed that his hands shook slightly.
“I miss you too.” His voice deepened slightly with the admission.
She giggled then and he felt a rushing throughout his body.
“Oh Baby, I miss you too, I miss all the things we used to talk about, all the erotic promises you would whisper in my ear, all your delightful threats….”
Now she had his undivided attention. He was hard, not almost hard, but painfully hard and it had not been a full sixty seconds yet. He reached up to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt, as the warmth in the room became overwhelming.
“What do you miss the most my dear? You have to tell me! You know you're not allowed to hold anything back from me.” Brad was surprised at how quickly their conversations came rushing back to him. With that came the memory of how much their little games of control excited him.
He not only heard her sigh but felt it all the way through him. Another shirt button came undone as he walked across the room to shut the door to the study. Before the door closed, he paused and looked upward, silent and still as he listened for any sound from above. Satisfied that all was quiet upstairs he allowed the door to close with an all but silent click.
Silently moving back across the room he spoke again. “Your delay in responding surprises me, are you wondering if calling me was a mistake?”
“Forgive me.” She spoke the words softly. “It’s just that so many memories fill my mind.”
From seductress to shy young lady, her moods reached out to him. Was she here tonight to tease, share a piece of her soul, seduce or submit? It was simply too early to know what had caused her, after all this time, to call.
“So tell me. You can do it. What do you miss so much that has you calling me?”
With a sigh, she whispered to him, “I miss your command, the control you always seemed to have over me. I miss being bound before you and begging for what you were not so quick to give. I miss the laughter and teasing and the way I would feel, as if I was coming apart at the seams, all because of you.”
Brad smiled; he could not help but feel flattered by her words. He pulled the loosened tie from around his neck and gazed at it, wondering if it had ever known the feel of her wrists struggling against the strength of its silk.
“And when I had you all tied up what was my favorite thing to do to you?”
Her breathing was faster now, he could hear it over the phone and it added another level to his own arousal. His cock created a tent in his pants and he wondered if he should pull his shirt out of his pants to cover it, just in case. She still had not spoken but he knew her excitement level was just as high.
“You know that delaying your responses to me always gets you into more trouble.
Now be a good. . .”
“TICKLING,” her voice interrupted. “You always said that tickling me was your favorite.”
Yep, the shirt was definitely coming untucked to cover the evidence. Brad felt a new rush of excitement down there as her sweet voice spoke the word, tickling! He simply could not help himself around her; he had never been able to. Placing the tie he still had clutched in his right hand on the desk next to him; he then held the phone between his ear and shoulder and pulled his shirt out from his waistband.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was warm, seductive, and curious.
“I,” he grunted as he finished pulling out his shirt, “am getting more comfortable.”
“Oh, I do like the sound of that. So tell me, what are you wearing?”
His laughter bounced off the walls and he quickly clapped his hand over his mouth in an attempt to silence the sound of his mirth. He paused then, still as a deer in the forest as he listened for sounds from above. Convinced that he had not been overheard he got back to the matter at hand.
“What am I wearing; now shouldn’t that be my line? Since you’ve asked, I'll tell you that I am still dressed for work although there is nothing proper about the way I look right now. My pants and belt are still on and although my shirt is on, it’s been pulled away from the waistband and is partially unbuttoned. My tie is off. If you must know a dark gray suit, starched white shirt and multi colored silk tie
“Mmmm. . . . very sexy, the rumpled corporate executive. You don't know how much I wish I were there with you right now.”
“Do you?” Brad replied. “If you were here right now what exactly would you have in mind?” It was such a dangerous question, why was he leading her on like this? Common sense whispered that he end the conversation now and head upstairs. He just could not do it; the urges clamoring throughout his body overrode that whisper of common sense. Then she spoke again and he knew there was no way he was going to hang up now.
“I'm not quite sure you'd go along with what I have in mind. I find it highly appealing but I'm not so sure about you. I seem to recall one of the reasons that we were 'not a suitable match', as you so quaintly put it, stemmed from you being much more conservative than I.” She smiled as she spoke the words knowing that he hated having his words, ‘unsuitable match’, tossed back at him. She waited, knowing that he would rise to the bait. She had him. It may have been only over the phone, but she knew that she had tapped into that not so conservative part of him.
“Tell me what you have in mind vixen. You are here, now, with me. What on earth should we do with each other?”
Brad felt himself practically vibrating with excitement. In the beginning, he had been the seducer, the one who teased and taunted but she had learned from him and then their games had taken on a form of out doing each other. He could hear her settling in and getting ready. When they had played their games by phone, they had both found ways to drive the other crazy. He had a feeling that tonight would be no different.
“Brad, describe to me the room you're in.”
I am in the study of my home. A dark oak panel door leads into the room. If you were to walk in, you could look to the right and see my desk or look to the left and see a brown leather sofa, coffee table and chair all grouped near the fireplace. The room has two large windows in it; one of them has a window seat. Carpet covers the entire floor with an additional oval rug under the furniture by the fireplace. Is that enough detail for you?”
“Perfect,” she replied, “now I want you to take off your shirt for me.”
It was not what Brad expected but he was too into this, he wanted it. He took his shirt off, dropped it on the desk next to his tie. “It’s off.”
“God, I do so love your chest. Remember the time I tied you up and told you that I was going to spend hours playing with your nipples?”
“I remember” Brad said as he looked down at those same nipples and watched them grow hard. “I also remember that you became distracted early enough so that my nipples didn't have to survive the two hour erotic torture you had in mind.”
Sensuous laughter filled his ears. "I always was easily distracted by you, the way you look, the cologne you wear." He heard her inhale as if she were breathing in her fill of him even now.
"Tell me, is it the same leather sofa I remember?"
Her question caught him off guard. . . . the same sofa? His confusion was very short lived and a wicked smile formed as he looked upon it once again. "Why yes, sweetheart, as a matter of fact it is the very sofa that you seem to be thinking of."
It was a quick catch of her breath and the softly whispered "Oh My. . ." that brought him back as if it were only yesterday. The place was definitely new but for as long as he lived that sofa would remain a part of his furnishings and always hold very special memories.
"You know I never thought I would survive that night." Her voice teased at his memories.
"Yes," Brad whispered. "You there, bound to that sofa in nothing but those sheer black panties and thigh high stockings. You looked so incredibly sexy, unable to escape, begging, pleading, laughing and moaning. God, the more you pleaded the easier it became to resist and continue teasing you. I had everything that night, all laid out before me, you on that sofa and every tickle tool and toy I possessed spread out across that coffee table and all the time in the world."
He heard her breath catch in remembrance; he knew he had her now at this moment just as easily as he had her when she had been bound to that sofa.
"You're wet even now aren't you?"
"Yes." Her voice barely above a whisper.
"Do you still have the leather cuffs from that night?"
"Yes, I do have them" The slight tremor of her voice made him smile; she was still responsive to him, still so easy to excite and captivate.
"I want you to get them sweetheart, get them now and put them on you."
Her gasp at his command made him smile; there was no going back now. He didn't know exactly what her intentions had been when she initiated the call but he now held all the cards. He listened closely to see if she were indeed following his order. "Have you got them?"
"Yes", she replied, her excitement evident in her tone.
"Good. I trust that you have them on?"
"I do"
"Excellent my dear. Now, I want you to tell me about that night in as much detail as you can remember."
Chapter 2
She could feel the tingling between her legs as she gathered her scattered thoughts.
"Tell me honey, tell me everything. . . ."
His voice was a seduction to her senses; she wasn't even sure what possessed her to call after all this time. Now that she had, it seemed there was no going back. She had planned to simply tease him, make him remember what it was like to want her. Somewhere along the way she had
lost control of the conversation and now was wearing the restraints he had given her. She felt restless and aroused more so then she had been in a long while. She considered reaching for her vibrator when his voice interrupted.
"What are you thinking at this very moment?"
"Honestly?"
"Of course, I always expected honesty from you. Why should the here and now be any different?"
She sighed, "I was thinking about reaching for my vibrator."
The warmth of his chuckle was like a caress along her nerve endings. "Oh it’s definitely been a long time; it seems you have forgotten you are to ask my permission in such things. Before you ask, you most certainly do not have my permission to use your vibrator right now. In fact I do not want you to touch yourself in any way at all while we are on the phone unless I instruct you to do so."
Her indrawn breath made him smile. He knew she would obey but he also knew that she was sorry that she confessed about the vibrator. He almost regretted jumping ahead and denying her the use of her toy. He always loved hearing her ask his permission as much as he loved the begging and pleading that fell from her lips when he tickled and teased her.
"Now, tell me everything about that night."
"It was a strange start, we had gone out to dinner and you seemed moody or perhaps simply distracted. On the ride home from the restaurant, your focus turned to me. I do remember jumping at your first touch; we had not spoken since entering the car. Your fingers stared playing up my thigh, gliding along the nylon then changing patterns when you reached the skin of my upper thigh. It tickled; it was the light, teasing kind of tickle that makes you want to return to it even as you are trying to escape it. I went to move my leg away from your touch when you closed your hand around the inside of my inner thigh. You told me not to move and then proceeded to tease me with your fingers across my panties and along the sides. I remember the car ride seeming to take forever. You never spoke. Your concentration was mostly on the driving and the rest seemed to be on teasing me out of my mind."
"When we arrived at your condo, I remember starting up the stairs and you stopped me to ask where I was going. I was heading to the bathroom and you told me to hurry, that we would have a nightcap by the fireplace. When I returned, you had a fire started and two drinks set out. You were seated on the sofa. I do remember that there was nothing, no hint or clue as to what you had ultimately planned. You reached for your glass and had relaxed back into the sofa, I had just made it to the coffee table when you stopped me and asked me to remove my blouse."
He felt her sigh as she said, "My heart is racing as much now as it was the moment you asked me to remove my blouse."
"What happened next?"
"It was like you were set upon seducing me, I remember removing my blouse but somewhere along the line the rest of my clothing came off too, all except my stockings and panties, those you left on. Your hands were teasing me, stroking me, driving me wild. I can still remember the realization of the bindings on my wrists, suddenly not being able to move my upper body. I just couldn’t figure out how you did that so fast."
His responding chuckle held a trace of arrogance.
"It was the very first time you restrained me. I always thought that when it happened you would ease me into it. I was caught so off guard that I tried to fight back, to get away. I remember you sitting on my legs to keep me still and putting the cuffs on my ankles. Then you reached down to attach the cuff to something below. You did not attach my left ankle to anything. I know because I clearly remember squirming, trying to get some leverage but my foot kept slipping. It was awfully difficult to get any kind of foot hold when my nylons kept slipping on the leather."
Brad laughed; it was easy to see that moment in his mind . . .
Her wrists, bound together and pulled up over her head. Her right leg was attached to the leg of the sofa, her other leg moving, shifting, slipping along the cushion. The dark black leather cuff around her ankle was a perfect accent to the sheer black stockings she still wore. He loved the wildness in her, the look in her eyes, daring and challenging him one moment, pleading and apprehensive the next. It had been all he could do not to rush things to quickly as he turned towards the coffee table to open the drawer below.
He knelt between the sofa and the open drawer, one by one he pulled out things till they covered the table completely, different types of feathers, powder, some assorted make-up and paint brushes, oils, lotions, q-tips, pens, chop sticks, vibrators, thin strips of leather, some unusual looking jewelry and a blindfold. Once finished he leaned back slightly allowing her to completely take in the sight before her. He watched her eyes widen, her pupils dilate, heard her breath catch and waited for her to look at him.
She finally looked at him, eyes wide as saucers. . . . "You can't do this."
He smiled. . . . "I can and will."
Her voice trembled. . . . "I can't."
He leaned forward, brushed his lips across hers. "You have no choice love." His hand reached for the blindfold and her world went dark.
He continued to kiss her and felt her resistance melt into the sofa. He leaned down and whispered into her ear "tell me love, are you by any chance at all. . . ticklish?"
The question had the desired effect. Once again, she began to squirm and her foot moved helplessly along the end of the sofa seeking freedom. He loved this particular moment, vocalizing his intent, watching the squirming and seeing her head slowly moving back and forth in denial and finally the words, ah those perfect beautiful words. . . .
"No! Don't do this!"
He smiled at the demand in her voice.
"Really, I'm not ticklish!"
Oh yea, she really expected him to believe that one.
"There's no need to waste your time so you might as well let me go now!"
She sounded so very rational, so considerate of his time. It was all he could do to not to laugh, to remain silent and see where she went next.
"Please don't do this!"
Ah, her tremor filled plea. He loved hearing the little tremors, the catches in her voice, her gasps of surprise, passion or outrage.
"You can't do this!"
Oh, but he could and planned to make a long night of it.
"Let me go this instant!"
Impressive, still a touch of bravado left.
"Please. Please don't!"
There it was the sound of surrender in that final plea.
In its own way, this was as much fun as the hands on aspect of tickling. "So you're not ticklish, eh? Then you can just lay back and allow me to see for myself. Look at it this way, if you are not ticklish, then this really will not take any time at all and I'll just explore other ways to make love to you. Understand of course, that I really do have to look everywhere first, just to make sure you're really not ticklish."
He had planned for a long night, he wanted to take his time, see how far he could take her. He noticed a slight tremor to her body but the room was warm, he had seen to that. He returned to her mouth, his lips teasing, seducing, until she trembled and surrendered to the demands of his mouth. Then she was kissing him back, her tongue stroking along his. Her teeth gently nipped at his bottom lip and she was thrilled at the sound of pleasure that she drew from him. He had changed his position somewhere along the way and she could feel the heat of his body pressed along the side of her. His lips moved away from hers and traced a path to her ear.
As his tongue darted out to trace the curve of her ear, his fingers traced a light, teasing and ticklish path from the base of her underarm to her waist. Her body arched and twisted,
as she giggled and laughed in reaction to the tickling. His fingers continued a pattern of lazy movements across her waist as he whispered into her ear "I thought you said you were not ticklish."
She tried to speak through her giggles; it took a moment or so to get out her words. . . . "I . . . I might have been wrong."
"Might have been wrong?" He could not help but laugh at her evasive back peddling. ”I think you need a little more convincing. The words I want to hear from you tonight fall somewhere in the category of, 'I am very ticklish'. . . .'Brad, I want you to tickle me'. . . . 'Brad, I need you to tickle me' and eventually, oh yes, I am saving the best for last. . . . . . . . . I want you to beg me to tickle you!"
He felt her outrage, could see it in her face and knew that without the blindfold her eyes would have said all the things her mouth so wisely held back.
"Perhaps you need another example of what I know to be true of you." With those words, he put both hands to work on her extremely sensitive and ticklish skin. His fingers traced and fluttered up and down her sides and across her belly. He circled her bellybutton with two fingers while his other hand tickled and stroked her hip. Her body squirmed and twisted rolling away from the hand at her hip and right up against him. She was so sensitive and ticklish that it didn't take much to reduce her to quivering helpless giggles.
He looked at his collection of toys and decided to see what she would think of some of his newer things.
His hands went to her breast, starting where her breast met ribs; he began to stroke and tease her skin. Using random strokes and teasing patterns, he played with her breast drawing ever closed but never touching her nipples. He repeated this process a few times until he had her twisting madly on the sofa.
She was slowly being driven crazy. Just how long was he going to tease her like this before touching her nipples? It was becoming too much, he had to touch her nipples before she went completely mad. "Brad, please!" She cried out even as she shifted to have his fingers move up to where she needed him.
He raised his hand from the side of her breast. "Please what?" He could feel the tension in her, the frustration of having to ask.
Her groan was a combination of frustration and desire. "Please touch my nipples, play with them, suck on them, I need to feel your tongue on them."
"Why sweetheart, I thought you'd never ask." He then straddled her hips and leaned forward allowing his tongue to make contact.
Her back arched and a low deep moan escaped her as his mouth finally played over her nipple. His tongue teased and teeth gently scraped and nibbled bringing it to a hard throbbing point of sensation. Smiling in satisfaction, he reached towards the table, picked up one of the pieces of jewelry, and slipped it around the nipple tightening it slightly. Her surprised, deeply indrawn breath rewarded his effort and he quickly went to work on the other nipple. With both nipple rings finally in place he sat back on his heels to view his handy work. They were snug enough to keep her nipples erect and not let her forget they were there. Dangling from the small golden rings was a series of jeweled colored beads. Seeing them on her, he knew the sales clerk had been correct; he definitely would have her wearing these often.
"Beautiful" he whispered and felt a slight tremor course through her body just before his hands reached for her sides and began to stroke the ticklish skin there. She squirmed, bounced and giggled. He watched her breast as they shook and the beads danced across her skin. He smiled. It was perfect!
Chapter 3
She fumbled with the phone, “by the way," her voice whispered out to him "what inspired you to purchase those nipple charms? They were not exactly something I would have expected you to buy."
"I wanted to create a night that neither of us would forget. I spent a few weeks drawing you out, listening to your fantasies and even tickling some of them out of you that you did not so readily share on your own. I had some fantasies of my own that you were unaware of and wanted to see if I could combine mine with yours and see just what would happen. Then it was a simple matter of picking up a few things and simply settling on a time and your place or mine."
She literally moaned into the phone, "even now I can feel the tingling between my legs. I still cannot believe how badly you teased and tortured me that night. I didn't think you would ever allow me to come and when you finally did I was sure I was going to die when you wouldn't stop." She heard his answering moan of satisfaction at her words.
"I want you to do something for me. . ."
"Yes." her voice whispered.
"I want you to spread your legs for me, spread them as if I had you tied to the two corners of the bed." There was but a moment's hesitation before he heard the movement take place. "Are you in position?"
Her "yes" came out of an excited whisper.
"I don't think I ever did ask you, what are you wearing, love?"
The imp in her could not resist, "I am wearing a black silk nightgown with the nipple area completely exposed; oh, and a lipstick red, pair of FMP's."
Once again, his laughter rang out before he was able to control himself. He quickly lowered his voice. "You are a very naughty young lady and if you were here now you would most definitely be punished for such cheeky insolence. Now I will give you one more chance to tell me the truth. What are you wearing?"
She could not help but giggle, she loved when he played lord and master of the manor. With a sigh, she responded "all I am wearing are the black cuffs that you instructed me to put on earlier"
"Good," the satisfaction in his voice evident. Now, I want you to slide the fingers of your right hand slowly down between your breasts, down your belly, across your bellybutton and stop just at the top of your lips and not a millimeter further." He could see her in his mind, her fingers making that languorous trek down her body. He knew that she would speed through the sensation much faster then he wished but there was nothing he could do about that. "Remember sweetheart, stop exactly where I told you to," He heard and felt her sigh of frustration course through him.
"Now, since it’s been a while, tell me how you've been keeping yourself down there? Are you completely shaved? Have you allowed nature to take its course? Tell me, if I were to see you now, this minute, spread open in front of me, what would I see?" He knew that his question embarrassed her slightly, her shaving to please him had been easy enough but to have her describe herself to him could leave her somewhat shy and tongue tied.
"I . . .”
He could visualize her wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue.
"I, uh. . .there is a closely trimmed triangle right on top, as for the rest of me, a bikini wax and a small amount of close shaving keeps the rest of me completely smooth."
"Mmmmm. . . . that sounds perfect sweetheart. Now, I want you to take those fingers that I know have been itching to touch yourself and slip them between your lips, coating them with your creamy wetness. Then swirl them twice around your clit but no more than those two touches.
"It was simply impossible for her to withhold the sound of pleasure that her fingers produced. He remembered so well all the sounds she would make and said, "Stop now, this very moment, bring both your hands up, and rest them beneath the pillow under your head"
He heard her sound of protest; he could feel the battle within her to take her pleasure further. She was alone and he waited for her to make the choice.
"Please," she whispered, "just one perhaps two more touches?"
"NO!" "Now place your hands where I instructed you to."
He began to speak again, taking for granted that she would do exactly as instructed. She called him, she wanted to play and she sent them both down this particular memory lane. If she wanted him to relive that evening in his mind then he was going to do his best to make sure that she not only remembered, but felt it also.
"Now, go on and tell me more of that night."
She shifted on the bed, finally pulling one hand from beneath the pillow to cradle the phone back next to her ear. She then glanced at her other arm still lodged under the pillow. She considered pulling it from beneath the pillow then shrugged and kept it in place.
"You had just finished putting the nipple charms on me and tickling me. It was such a strange sensation, the pressure on my nipples and slight ticklish movement of the beads across my breast. Every time I moved, they did also. It was a little unnerving, those random little sensations that happened without your touch but what really threw me, was you asking me that question. . ."
Chapter 4
His breath caught as he looked down upon her. There was a glisten of sheen across her skin and the jeweled colored beads at her breast became brilliant from the firelight. He actually felt his fingers itch to touch her, stroke her, tickle her from head to toe. Her face still reflected the laughter from the tickling of her sides as she caught her breath.
"Now love, where should I start?"
She had not expected that question. Never, any time that he had tickled her, had he asked such a question, offered up a choice. He simply tickled for his pleasure and hers, as he had shown her often enough. She opened her mouth to speak. Nothing came out. She tried again, licking her lips quickly at first in the hopes that the additional moisture would help her to articulate. Again, she opened her lips to speak only to realize that her brain still hadn't completely caught up with her current circumstance.
Brad waited patiently for her to catch up to speed. It didn't happen often that she was caught short, she always had a quick retort, insightful comments, the sometimes sarcastic comment and quick wit to apply to all situations she encountered. He was silently thrilled that he had managed to catch her so off guard and wondered how long he could keep her there. His fingers slowly went to work, tracing feather light, tickly touches across her face, her neck, down a path between her breast and straight to her bellybutton circling it once then once again as he repeated the question. . . . "Where should I start?"
It was almost impossible to concentrate on the words as his touch caused chaotic signals along her nerve endings. She thought about the coffee table, remembering how everything looked laying out on the table and a shudder went through her at the very thought of most of those things touching her skin. His fingertips never stopped tracing random patterns on her belly and she was becoming unnerved. "Make love to me!" Her voice called out the words louder, harsher then she had intended. Where had that panicked plea come from? Inside her head her voice was suppose to seduce him away from what he so obviously planned.
His fingers never stopped teasing her skin. He was taking away her ability to focus and he only smiled, shook his head and softly said, no! One teasing hand became two and duel fingertips headed down past her bellybutton trailing off in opposite directions to that area where groin and thigh meet. Panicked giggles and squirming rewarded his actions.
"Stop, please. . . stop!"
Fingers paused, a hairs breath above her skin. He could feel the heat rising off her skin and his fingers trembled ever so slightly in anticipation.
He waited.
"My feet, start at my feet."
Brad moved into position at the end of the sofa sitting Indian style and settling back into the armrest and corner of the sofa. Her tethered right foot shifted restlessly. Her left foot had squeezed itself in between the cushion and the back of the sofa. He wished she could have seen herself from this prospective. All she had managed to do was widen her legs opening herself up to him even more.
He took one finger, glided up and on top of her right nylon covered foot: ever so softly up to and around her ankle his finger slid...and then down to her heel, softly tickling in little circles on the heel. His finger then traced slowly up her arch to tickle at the base of her toes and then tried to wiggle in between her toes.
Throughout this her foot twitched about, caught at the end of the short length of rope attached to the cuff. She tried for stoicism at first but that one soft touch had her completely undone. She giggled then bit her bottom lip, then gave up and giggled some more.
"No. . . all ready, please no. . . hee hee hee heeee . . . it tickles so much"
"Look at that, how tough can you be if just the lightest touch of my finger on your foot sends you over the edge? Tickle. . . tickle little one" and with that he brought both his index fingers into play tracing up and down her helpless arch then swirling mindless patterns around the ball of her foot.
He could feel the shivers of reaction run up her leg as she twisted, squirmed and giggled.
"Oh God. Brad pleeasseeeeeee . . stop. . . ha haaaaaa. . .
All of his fingers suddenly came into play and began to explore and tickle every square inch of her foot. The nylons worked with him, aiding his touch to send her closer and closer still to the brink of ticklish insanity. Her body thrashed about sliding slightly down the sofa even closer to his. He looked up from her foot to see that she was much closer to him now, her panties near enough to touch without having to change his position. He saw her upper body stretched tighter, accentuating ticklish targets that he hoped to explore.
He took the opportunity to retie her ankle so she couldn't move away.
Her breath came out in panting giggles. Sensations still zig zagged across her foot and up her leg causing her to twitch. She was just becoming more aware of everything as he finished retying her ankle.
"Brad, please, no more tickling. I can't take it."
"Then what shall I shall I do with your feet?"
"Nothing! No more, no more feet!"
Not being the answer he was looking for he began again, this time his left hand traced up and down her foot and then he brought his nails into play. They glided effortlessly along the sole of her foot seeking out all her foot's wrinkles and creases. His nails darted here and there, delicately along the undersides of her toes right into the base where the toe met her foot. Her laughter took on a frantic pitch, her head shaking in denial even as sensation after sensation assaulted her nervous system.
She cried out around through laughter. . . "Please, stooopppppp, any. . . .anything but this”
"Anything but this, hummm, all right then sweetheart, offer me your other foot."
"Offer you what?" Her confusion was evident in her tone.
"Offer me your other foot sweetheart, the one that you have buried behind the cushion. I am simply complying with your request of '. . . anything but this.' Now, to get me to agree to cease and desist in something I am so thoroughly enjoying, you have to offer something equally or more enticing"
He let those words hang between them and waited. The foot in question shifted and moved if possible even deeper into the body of the sofa. Seconds passed without a response from her. He saw that her body was starting to calm down from the tickling and decided to accept her lack of a quick response as her acceptance to continue with her bound foot.
Chapter 5
He leaned forward towards the coffee table reaching for a stiff bristled paint brush that he'd used on her once before. He held it up with a flourish to show her but saw that he still had her masked. Placing the brush back down he decided that now was definitely time to allow her to see just what she was in for. Kneeling on the cushion to lean over her, he stopped to nuzzle her breast. She startled at the contact and the beads bounced with her movements. He removed her mask and watched as her eyes blinked a few times as her vision adjusted itself to the light.
She smiled at him, "You're letting me go?"
"Not even a remote possibility sweetheart. I have noticed that there is a world of ticklish places on you to explore and I thought I would take a closer look. I think its time for you to see also."
He leaned into her, letting her body feel a bit of the weight of his. His lips nuzzled against her neck then feather light kisses along her ear. In the softest of whispers he said "I'm going to tickle you till you come" he finished with a little lick to the inner shell of her ear and a quick puff of breath. His words and the teasing of his lips against her ear produced tingles of sensation that ran up and down her spine.
"Oh My God," she whispered as she felt his fingers stroke the palms of her hands lightly. "Don't do that, it really does tickle"
"Aw. . . poor baby, it does?" He slid two fingers along and in between each of her fingers, tracing the side of her hand down to her wrist to feather back and forth across her pulse. His fingers slid back into her palms playing lightly there and between her fingers. He leaned over again to kiss her, his fingers still tickling her palms.
She giggled and squirmed beneath him. "Please, you're driving me crazy and this is such a silly place to be driven crazy by."
Smiling down at her, he kissed her again. "No such thing as a silly place sweetheart. All ticklish places are good."
His fingers continued their feather like caresses past her wrists and across her inner arms towards her elbows. Throughout this, she squirmed and twisted, begged, giggled and pleaded for him to stop. He definitely planned on stopping but he had a little more distance to travel. Fluttering fingers teased her inner elbows and then began the final leg of their tickling journey. The moment his fingers began to tickle her inner arms between elbow and armpit she renewed her efforts to break free. Her giggles became all out laughter as he stroked that sensitive skin. She begged through the laughter but there was no stopping him yet; he had his target in sight and the next stop was her perfectly smooth and extremely ticklish armpits.
"No. . .no. . . nooooo." she cried out through her laughter, "I'm begging you, and I’ll do anything but please not there."
"Oh honey, I'm sorry but you had your chance earlier when you promised anything."
Her body thrashed with increased vigor at his words. His fingers lost their place on her inner arms and he knew that a change in his position was called for. Pushing himself back to a kneeling position, he decided to straddle her. She was still laughing and squirming, desperately tugging to bring her arms down as he straddled her hips. With a knee on either side of her hips, he lowered himself gently on top of her pushing her a bit deeper into the cushion effectively subduing most of her movement.
"Now where was I? Oh yes, right here I believe," and his two hands reached right back into the bend of her elbow to begin again.
"Noooohohohohohoooo. . . You've already been there . . .," she cried out as her brain registered the continuing torment to nerve endings all ready over stimulated.
"That's true, I was there, somewhere, but you made me lose my place so I had to start from the middle again. If you want, you can ask me to go right to your armpits and I'll be happy to bypass this area." His fingers never stopped their light, feathery strokes along her inner arm. He watched as goose bumps came up across her arms. He knew that this area was a particularly sensitive spot for her, which made it impossible for him to resist teasing her there.
"Bastard" she hissed at him and then erupted in giggles all over again at his touch.
"Naughty little ticklish girl, such language out of such a sweet mouth. Do you know what happens to ticklish little girls who curse? Why they just get more tickles until their laughter washes away all those bad, bad words. In fact I have just the thing to tickle those words right out of you." He reached over to the coffee table and picked up two different brushes. The artist brush was made of thickly packed bristles, soft and cut to a sharp angle and the makeup brush had a big soft head full of bristles.
Her eyes widened at the brushes slow decent to her inner arms, one brush in each of his hands. Her head shook in denial, even as her mouth began to form words of protest the brushes made contact with skin. He moved the brushes along her inner arms as if to a tune only he could hear.
Nerve endings rebelled, sending chaotic signals to her brain. The touch of those brushes along that ultra sensitive area of skin was more than she could take. The laughter and scream those dual sensations created merged together to produce one of the most tortured sounds he had ever heard her make. Her eyes closed, her mouth gaped open and nothing more came forth as her body continued to pitch and squirm away form the sensations that overwhelmed her.
Quickly enough the brushes began to lightly circle their destination. Around and around the perimeter of her armpits they teased and danced. Her voice had returned and her laughter and giggles were the sweetest of music to his ears. Tears glistened on her lashes and fell across her cheeks as she begged through her laughter for him to stop.
Stop?
He was only getting started.
Chapter 6
He whispered into the phone, "do you remember the first time I tickled you?"
She laughed at the question. "How could I ever forget? We were sitting together at eating ice cream cones and you let drops of ice cream splash on my foot. Who knew that would even lead us down the path it did? You know, it occurs to me that you might have done that on purpose."
He laughed then, "Sweetheart, that was no more on purpose then you putting your foot on my leg and instructing me to clean it up. If we had been somewhere private, I would have brought your foot to my mouth and licked it clean. I had to settle for the G rated version and take a napkin to dab away the ice cream. That I allowed my fingers to stroke your arch at that time was simply unavoidable. You gave me the perfect excuse to tickle your foot. Between watching you lick and enjoy your ice cream the way you did and discovering you were ticklish, I decided to do
everything in my power to make sure there was a second date."
"Mmmm. . . . a second, a third and others after that. I should have realized how much trouble I was in by the second date."
"Okay, here's one for you," he found himself smiling at the memory, "how did I manage to tickle you on our second date?"
"Hummmm. . . that was so long ago, let me see. . . . Oh, I remember! We were watching some movie, it might have been Predator, and during a highly suspenseful scene, you pounced on me and announced yourself to be the tickle monster. Silly me, I believed at that time that you simply had a thing for my feet. You tickled me all over but it seemed to be my feet that really drew your attention. I learned that you had a thing for more than just my feet."
"Every inch of ticklish skin on you drew me like a magnet. Your feet may have been my passion but your body was my playground. The stronger you reacted, the more enticing that location became. Do you remember the one place I learned set you off even if I so much as threatened to tickle you there?"
For the longest moment, she stayed silent. He could hear her breathing and wondered if she would answer on her own or required coaxing. He heard her softly clear her throat and in a voice so soft; he had to strain to hear her, she said "my underarms!"
"Yes, that wonderful little area that you kept protected for so long but I finally discovered it. Even the threat of my tickling you there could make you beg for mercy almost instantly. Tell me; are your arms still under your pillow? If I had the privilege of seeing you now, would your armpits be exposed, awaiting my touch?"
"Yes." There was the slightest tremor in her response.
"And are they as ticklish now as they were that night?"
"God, yes. . ."
Chapter 7
He quickly laid the brushes on her chest. His fingers literally itched to touch that soft area of her body. Wasting no time his fingers picked up where the brushes had left off and began to feather his fingertips softly around the perimeter. Her body quaked beneath him, her laughter and begging urged him on.
"Bradddddd. . .Pleasehehehe. . . .Stohohohopppppppp. No, heeheeheeheeeeeeee, more, aieeeeee, tickles. I can't take it." Her head thrashed back and forth, "I can't heeeeeheeeeeeheee, toooo much tickles... Pleaseeee!"
"Of course you can sweetheart," he crooned. "It’s just my fingers very gently slipping closer and closer to the very center." His fingers did indeed match every action to his words. He knew her fear of being tickled there to be real; he also knew that this was pure ticklish agony for her. She had once confessed to him that unlike other areas that created a sexual response in her; being tickled under her arms didn't connect that way for her. This was her Waterloo, the one spot that pushed her over the edge with the littlest of effort. He continued to tickle her there, ever so lightly, fingers stroking this way and that, up and down, in and out. She was wild with laughter and begging until she cried out her surrender and again, the promise of anything. He knew he was pushing her further there then ever before. He took one more leisurely pass up to the inside of her elbow and then back down again employing his fingertips and the edges of his nails to push just slightly past her limits. With a sigh of great reluctance, he finally stopped tickling.
He smiled down at the picture she presented. Her face flushed, her eyelashes sparkled with tears and her hair was a mess. He softly swept damp curls off her forehead and allowed her time to collect herself. He made himself wait until she was back to slow deep breathing before taking this to the next level. She had surprised him so far, he had taken a chance going for her armpits this early in the game but somehow it had worked. She had laughed, begged and even cried out her surrender but she hadn't used her safe word.
She finally opened her eyes to look at him. "Let me go" she whispered.
'No," he responded just as softly. "We haven't gotten to 'anything' yet!"
"Would you at least get off me so I can move a bit?"
He watched as she worked to alter her position on the sofa. Her unbound foot remained buried between the cushion and the back of the sofa. She used what little leverage she could find to arch her back slightly which raised up her chest and belly slightly, reminding him of areas yet to be tickled.
"Now sweetheart, I want you to beg me to tickle your tummy. I want you to convince me that there is nothing in the world you want more than me tickling you right there, right now." He watch her eyes widen as she absorbed the impact of his words. He sat next to her crowding her ever so slightly and taking note of the rapidness of her pulse. His fingers began to toy with the rings around her nipples. "Am I to take your silence as an invitation to return to your underarms? His fingers quit their feathering teasing strokes across her nipples and started to swirl them down the sides of her breasts. "I'm more than happy to do so and I promise you, once I start there again I will not be so quick to stop."
At first she could not look away from his eyes, his look drew her, compelled her to give into his wishes. Her thoughts whirled, making it impossible to latch on to any one coherent thought.
. . . Beg me to tickle you
She couldn't bear to have him touch her underarms again; she didn't know what to say. Her body jumped as he began to toy with her nipples once again. The pressure of the jewelry had kept them hard and so incredibly sensitive. Sensation coursed from her nipples straight to her pussy. She could feel even more wetness collect there and wanted nothing more then to feel him touch her there.
"Please tickle me"
Those first words came out so softly that he almost didn't hear them. He only had to wait another heartbeat of time for her next words.
"Brad I want you to tickle my tummy, please tickle me there. I especially want you to tickle me on my lower belly, right below my navel and further." She raised her pelvis, undulated her hips, visually offering up her belly to him. "Brad, please. Please tickle me!" It was all he could do not to pounce at that moment; his eyes held hers as he raised his hands and allowed his fingers to wiggle ever so slightly, right above her belly. He held her eyes with his, noting the swift play of emotions right before her eyes closed and her head shook slightly in denial. "Open your eyes sweetheart, watch as I lower my fingers to your tummy and give you just what you begged me for."
Her lower lip quivered ever so slightly, her eyes remained tightly shut and still the negative shake of her head. "I can't, please. . . . no more. . . ."
"Watch me; I want to see your eyes as I give you what you so sweetly begged for just seconds ago. I want you to see my fingers lower and finally tickle the area that you just begged me to tickle. "
He reached down slowly, ponderously, taking as much time as possible to let his fingertips reach her skin. As they made contact, he realized that she was a mass of goose bumps, which pleased him even more. His fingers drifted around her ribs, eliciting peals of giggles, varying in loudness and intensity when they wandered across her most sensitive areas. Her body arched and twisted exposing more of her ribs and belly to him. He left no inch of skin untouched as he teased and tormented her. She begged and pleaded through her laughter for his mercy, knowing none would be given. His teasing continued; his gaze triumphant as his fingers continued his torturous trek from her ribs to her lower belly. Her muscles quivered and shook under his fingers as his wandering course brought him closer and closer to her belly button. Her laughter became panicked, as his fingertip circled that indentation on her lower belly.
"Which do you want to feel first sweetheart, my finger or my tongue tickling you there?
His question only incited her more, her struggles confirming yet another hot spot he could no longer wait to explore.
"I think we'll start with my fingers"
"No, please no. . . ."
"My tongue then!"
Giving her no chance to respond he leaned in and swirled his tongue into her bellybutton. She screamed as her body reacted to the sensation by thrusting her belly into his tongue then concaving as much as possible. His mouth followed her and his hands reached for her hips. The play of his tongue was relentless against that dimpled area of skin. Her innie, by its existence alone, invited, beckoned and lured him to explore, to taste, to stroke and tease, to seek inward and discover what ticklish nerves hid within its protective fold.
While his tongue continued its exploration of her belly button, his fingers traced over the skin pulled across her hips. Hips he knew oh so well; another area where she was so totally sensitive and ticklish. His fingers played over that skin and across her pelvic bone, his strokes and touches changing so fast that it was impossible to anticipate and prepare for. His tactics changed completely as he reached the fleshier area on the side of her hips. Here his touch was firmer, deeper, a vibrating sort of tickle. Over her hips, his fingers tormented in an ever-changing pattern designed to drive her mad. As his fingers passed over her panties, she moaned through her laughter as her pelvis arched, pushing her herself into his fingers. Her panties were soaked, testimony to just how effected she was by his tickling and teasing. He ran his fingers up and down across the length of her; pressing and stroking along her folds, teasing her clit.
“Brad, please! You’re driving me crazy.”
“What is it you want darling?” His fingers paused, the faintest of pressure maintaining contact against her. Once again, she pushed against his fingers. His retreated, denying her the sensations she sought. He loved teasing her. He could feel her need surrounding him like a living, breathing, tangible thing. Her loud moan of frustration made him smile.
“Please touch me. I need. . . .
“Yes, baby, tell me what you need.”
“My clit, please touch my clit, I need to come so bad.”
His finger reached for her clit again, the lightest, fluttering touch. Her pelvis arched upward as his other hand reached in to stroke and tickle along the tendons where thigh and groin meet.
Her reaction was instantaneous; her movements frantic, her laughter panicked and off the scale. Through her laughter she begged “No… please stop, it tickles too much; I can’t stand it.”
His fingers paused, barely resting on that delicate ticklish area of her groin. With the tip 0f his other index finger, he softly stroked her clit and shook his head in regret. “I was having so much fun. Oh well, your choice" and his fingers left her body.
”Aarghhh! You do not play fair! Oh! That is so not right, not right at all”
Again, he gently stroked her clit through her panties, his gaze focused there. He then leaned in to kiss it gently. "I'm not trying to be fair sweetheart," he murmured as he kissed her clit once more; softly, the caress was tantalizing, feather light. “However, I understand" He removed all pressure from her body.
“Nooooo. “ She wanted to sob out her frustration, as her clit tingled, ached and throbbed with need
His mouth moved within a hair’s breath of her clit; her back arched trying to make a connection but he moved away with nothing but a quick puff of air to her clit.
“Please. . . “She writhed in her bonds. “Brad, please.”
“Yes baby, what do you want me to do?”
“Everything, everything that you were doing before.”
The heel of his palm gently pressed against her as his fingertips fluttered across her clit.
“Mmmmm yes, especially that.”
"Even this?" he asked as he stroked the fingertips of both hands across the sensitive ticklish skin of her groin with four fingers on each side. Tickling and strumming lightly over the tendons his fingers randomly brushed across her clit.
”Oh my God, it tickles so much.”
“I know it does baby but the choice is yours.” With those words, he removed his hands from her body.
Her confusion evident as she struggled to choose between something she loved and something that drove her out of her mind.
He leaned back, allowing her to wrestle with the idea for a moment
Her pussy flooded with wet heat as his eyes met and captured hers; trapping her more so by his gaze then the restraints she wore.
As he watched her, he thought it about time to rid her of yet another barrier.
Chapter 8
He lightly scraped his nails along the back of her thighs. Her body reacted, literally raising her thighs and butt off the sofa as she squealed out her surprise to the sensation. He utilized that technique on the backs of her thighs repeatedly as her body raised, twisted and squirmed. Her unbound leg found its way out from its nesting place between the cushions and planted itself, heel down in the center of the cushion, as she rose once again to avoid the tickling of those nails. He picked that perfect moment, as her hips raised in the air and her senses overwhelmed by sensation and laughter, to pull down her panties. She struggled as her cries of “no” filled the room.
Her free leg moved to widen her stance attempting to prevent the inevitable. She had not moved fast enough and the panties now hung limply from her bound leg.
Her response delighted him. She had viewed those panties as a line of defense and had struggled, albeit a few seconds too late to win that small skirmish. She was truly more vulnerable now; her thigh high stockings did nothing but emphasize and enhance her nudity. Now, the only thing left to do was to secure the ankle he had left free all this time.
She knew he was going for her free leg. ‘You can't let him get it,’ whispered a little irrational voice in the back of her head. Irrational or not, she clung to the thought and resisted with all her might.
The struggle ended almost as quickly as it began. Stepping around the back of the sofa, he pulled the last tether up and secured her ankle. He watched her leg move about as she struggled and saw his mistake. He wanted her foot up, higher against the back of the sofa. He removed the tie from her ankle and brought it along the back of the sofa to attaching it to rear leg on the other side. She fought as she could but her efforts were futile at best.
He walked back around to the front to view his handiwork. He had left her very little room to squirm. Her arms were stretched above her head, her body taught, her legs spread, open and secured. Her eyes followed him as he circled, excitement, fear, anticipation, trepidation all reflected in her gaze.
“I've dreamt about this, so many times;” he spoke the words softly, his voice hypnotic as he settled himself between her legs. Her attempts to struggle ceased as she watched him. He felt her trembling but knew with complete certainty that it was excitement that had taken over. There may have still been a hint of fear or anxiety but it now just fed her excitement. "I've waited, a life time it seems, to have you like this; my own ticklish damsel in distress. Poor baby; all tied up and so very, very ticklish!”
His hands reached towards the top of her left thigh, his fingers caressing, teasing as he began to remove her stocking. Her voice fluctuated between a moan and a sigh as the stocking began a slow glide down her leg. He took his time, lingering, drawing out the sensations for her. He was in no hurry; he loved the contrasting feels, the silkiness of the stocking, and the smooth warm feel of her thigh. His fingers fluttered over her skin; light, teasing, tickly, touches that had her moaning, sighing and giggling.
Her toes clenched then spread and her foot arched, all in reaction to the sensations she experienced. Those movements beckoned to him, inviting his attentions. By leaving her leg and foot untouched for so long, it had simply heightened her level of sensitivity. He inched forward a bit and brought his mouth to her toes, his lips making contact as his fingers began to stroke up and down the bared skin of her thigh. She cried out, her mind reeling at the dual sensations, as she lay there, unable to move, barely able to squirm as sensation after sensation coursed through her body. His teeth began to nibble through her stocking, anxious to feel her bared toes on his tongue.
Her foot twitched spasmodically as the nylon gave way under his teeth. The moment he felt the flesh of her toes in his mouth, the second his tongue swirled across the length of her foot where her toes join her foot he could the rush of excitement throughout his body. She went straight to his head like the finest of wines, heady and rich.
Her indrawn hiss of breath and her cry of “Oh My God” encouraged him to continue. By the time his teeth had effectively freed her toes from the nylons, he had teased the top of her stocking all the way down to the restraint at her ankle. He leaned back slightly to view his handiwork, a woman ravished by her lover. The length of her leg now bare to his touch; her toes glistened wetly, flexing and twitching slightly as he gazed at them. The slightest bit of nylon still clung to her foot from the base of her toes up to the restraint surrounding her ankle while the other leg remained perfectly attired.
He moved towards her foot again, his hand gliding up the back of her calf as his lips, teeth and tongue played about her toes. His fingers feathered themselves in and about the hollow behind her knee as his other hand reached for her heel.
She cried out through her laughter, sensations rolling over her in waves as he proceeded to tickle her in three places at once. One sensation at a time would have been manageable. Two at once, certainly more difficult but she was still holding her own. It was his nails making contact with her heels in that light, teasing pattern of his that combined with the other two sensations started to push her past the edge of sanity. She wanted to beg, to plead with him for mercy but her laughter was to consuming.
Chapter 9
Slowly he pulled back, one ticklish point after another felt the last of his tormenting fingers. Laughter poured from her and her movements reduced to trembles and involuntary twitches. He had taken her beyond her ability to struggle against the sensations. She had finally let go of the fight and given in to the tickling. He positioned himself higher between her thighs and waited a moment longer. Her breathing was beginning to calm as he began softly stroking her. He loved how wet she was, how open and inviting, just waiting for him. He then moved his attention to her clit with feather light touches across the hood; her sigh reached out to him
Brad looked up at her. "Beg me to make you come."
She did! She didn't even think twice, she was beyond the point of shame. She begged, promised him anything if only he would make her come.
He grinned like a naughty child then and feathered his fingers from where thigh meets groin down and over the top of her stocking and then trailing down the length of her right leg. It tickled so much through the stocking but was nothing compared to the feel of his fingers once again tickling her foot.
"Nooooo. . . she wailed through her laughter. . . you promised to make me come."
"Oh sweetheart, I will make you come, and it is my tickling that will make it happen."
Over and over his fingers feathered across her sole and in between her toes. Up and down each toe he played, seeking out each ticklish spot, every sensitive nerve ending. Occasionally he would drag his nails lightly across her heels making her scream out in laughter. He picked that time to bring his other hand into play reaching up to stroke and tickle her pussy. The wiggling of his fingers there matched the wiggling on her sole. She was lost, awash in sensation and laughter; she did not even have the strength to beg him to stop. All she knew was the amazing feeling of slowly being tickled to death.
Every time his fingers, dripping wet from her juices, tickled across her clit it pushed her closer to the edge. His fingers were tireless as they moved across her. He wanted to give her an orgasm that she would never forget. His fingers never stopped tickling along the sole of her foot, the lightest of tickling strokes across her sole, across the ball of her foot and underneath her toes. Every touch on her foot along with the tickling of her clit pushed her closer and closer to orgasm.
She felt weightless; she could no longer feel anything but the nonstop tickling her body was enduring. It felt as if there were a live wire between her sole and her clit and he was the conduit. She had never been teased and tickled like this in her life and wasn't sure she would survive. His fingers on her clit tickled so very much, she had no idea it was possible to be that ticklish there. All she needed was the right touch, the right amount of pressure but he held back. The sensations were starting to overwhelm her; she could focus on nothing but the endless tickling of her foot and the mimicking feel of the touch on her clit. Fingers swiftly feathered across her sole, matching fingers swiftly feathered across her clit. A finger traced from heel to base of toes, a finger traced, feather light, through her swollen lips to end just at the very tip of her.
Further and further, he pushed her, her release shimmering just within reach. Sensations changed as his nails came in to play on her feet; their friction against her nylon covered foot pushed her into a deeper level of ticklishness. His fingers picked that time to press themselves against her clit in tight, teasing, maddening, little circles. That was simply more then her over stimulated senses could take. She screamed as she orgasmed beneath his hands.
Chapter 10
It was a good twenty minutes before Brad could pull himself together and get dressed. Throughout that time, she purred and cooed at him and giggled and just kept talking. Over an hour had passed since he’d come home and the last thing on earth he would have imagined was her calling, and the hottest, most erotic phone call he could ever remember having. He looked around the room making sure that nothing seemed out of place.
It was time to say good-bye and they both seemed to sense it at the same time.
“Are you sorry I called?” Her voice softly spoke the question.
He was not sure how to answer at that moment.
“Tonight was very special for me.”
“It was for me too. I am so glad that I was able to reach you. You never know, I might call again."
Brad’s mouth opened to speak; she interrupted before he could start.
“Wait, before you say anything to that, allow me just to say, good bye.”
With those parting words, the line went dead. Brad hit the end button on the phone then turned it off completely.
Walking out of the study, he turned off the last light and headed slowly, quietly up the stairs. Reaching their bedroom door he paused, his hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath and entered. He both opened and closed the door softly, startling as the bedside light came on. He turned then to face Clair and saw that she was sitting up in the middle of the bed. Her eyes were wide and her hair mussed from the pillows as she looked up at him, one hand still on the phone next to her.
He leaned back against the door with a grin that was positively predatory.
“Interesting welcome tonight.”
Claire blushed under the intensity of his look. As his gaze traveled across her, that blush intensified as his eyes noted the leather restraints that were evident around her wrists and ankles. Looking closer at the bed, he saw the straps attached to the four corners of the bed. He raised one eyebrow in question.
"You did instruct me to put these on earlier, didn't you?"
He nodded as he started for the second time that night to get undressed.
“It will amuse me to no end to watch you try and keep quiet. You know of course that after that performance downstairs that your body has a lot to answer for.”
He finished undressing and walked to the foot of the bed as she watched him, her breath catching as she admired her husband’s nude form.
“That will not be a problem,” her voice breathless. “The children are away at your parent’s home for the weekend.”
His predatory smile returned as he reached for her right ankle.
Quite the fertile imagination, as well as heart and soul, sweetie. Love it, and, of course, ENCORE!
*blinks* wow... pretty much the only thing i can say to this.. this whole story is like one of my fantasies written out through another's mind! I gotta say, you've got me wanting more stories from you already, and this is only the first of yours i've seen!
