BellaRisa
4th Level Blue Feather
- Joined
- Aug 9, 2001
- Messages
- 5,981
- Points
- 38
I don't usually share my experiences here, but I was in the mood to write 
.
Years ago, I had a good friend who traveled through my town once very few months for business. He was a Dominant 99% of the time, but every now and again he loved to be tied tightly and tickled 'til he just couldn't take any more.
I gave him what he needed, and in return he gave me some of the best rides of my life.
His favorite way to spend the evening was tied face-down, hands bound overhead and knees and ankles tied together, gagged with my favorite bandanna so that I could hear him laughing and trying to beg, naked except for a cute pair of boxer briefs that hugged his very muscular and very, very ticklish bottom. Once he was secure the party started
.
I would start by 'cleaning' his big, mostly smooth feet, first with a scrub brush dipped in soapy water and then with my teeth and tongue. Licking the spaces underneath his toes and chewing his runner-toughened heels drove him out of his mind. I don't think I've ever heard a human make the sounds that came from his helplessly gagged lips when my nails raked his biggest toes, slick from their scrubbing; those foolish enough to believe that a gag takes away from the laughter have never heard a deliciously loud scream through a thin bit of cotton, it's amazing and utterly scrumptious. Stripped to just my black satin panties and black thigh high stockings (he insisted I dress in black), I loved to lie on top of him and use my own silky toes to stroke his ridiculously ticklish underarms while I slid my fingers into his boxers to tickle the living daylights out of his lightly furred backside and his thighs, slipping my hand in between his tightly tied legs to goose his thighs until he was shrieking though his gag; he would shake so hard I had to grip his sides with my knees to stay saddled, something about having his underwear 'invaded' made the tickling much worse than simple nudity
. But the best was how we ended the sessions:
I would straddle him facing his back, using my thighs to hold on 'tight' because the ride was intense.
Leaning forward until my diamond-hard nipples stroked his back, I would use just my pointer fingers to poke. And poke and poke and poke. His sensitive sides, his underarms, his devilishly ticklish back muscles...only two fingers brought him closer to the brink of madness than just about anything else I did. Except for the finale.
Once he was delirious with his own ticklishness and just about too hoarse to even try to beg, I would slowly, slowly reach deep inside his boxers just underneath his hardness. Fitting my right hand to his inner thigh, I would grip the ultra, horribly ticklish muscles there while using my thumb to...stimulate...his deepest self. My other hand would death-grip that part of his left side, just under his ribs, where deep muscle kneading drove him far enough into insanity to offer me anything I wanted if I would just stop. And of course I would torture him, telling him over and over that if only I could understand him...he was a quaking and vibrating mess of helpless ticklishness. And the more he quivered the hotter I became, his wide back sending wickedly intense sensations into my core as I straddled and rode him like a bucking horse. The more he shook the faster I stroked him from underneath.; we would build and build and build until we'd both explode, my sex sealed tightly to his waist and my thighs shaking with the tension.
We lay there exhausted, dripping with sweat, while I'd make slow circles on his sides just to hear the barely-there begging. There is nothing so adorable as a bound, post-orgasm insanely ticklish dominant male. Nothing
And later it would be my turn. But that's another post...
My friend married and moved very far, I miss him. I hope she's pleasing him the way I did, it was entirely too much fun to miss
.Years ago, I had a good friend who traveled through my town once very few months for business. He was a Dominant 99% of the time, but every now and again he loved to be tied tightly and tickled 'til he just couldn't take any more.
I gave him what he needed, and in return he gave me some of the best rides of my life.
His favorite way to spend the evening was tied face-down, hands bound overhead and knees and ankles tied together, gagged with my favorite bandanna so that I could hear him laughing and trying to beg, naked except for a cute pair of boxer briefs that hugged his very muscular and very, very ticklish bottom. Once he was secure the party started
. I would start by 'cleaning' his big, mostly smooth feet, first with a scrub brush dipped in soapy water and then with my teeth and tongue. Licking the spaces underneath his toes and chewing his runner-toughened heels drove him out of his mind. I don't think I've ever heard a human make the sounds that came from his helplessly gagged lips when my nails raked his biggest toes, slick from their scrubbing; those foolish enough to believe that a gag takes away from the laughter have never heard a deliciously loud scream through a thin bit of cotton, it's amazing and utterly scrumptious. Stripped to just my black satin panties and black thigh high stockings (he insisted I dress in black), I loved to lie on top of him and use my own silky toes to stroke his ridiculously ticklish underarms while I slid my fingers into his boxers to tickle the living daylights out of his lightly furred backside and his thighs, slipping my hand in between his tightly tied legs to goose his thighs until he was shrieking though his gag; he would shake so hard I had to grip his sides with my knees to stay saddled, something about having his underwear 'invaded' made the tickling much worse than simple nudity
. But the best was how we ended the sessions:I would straddle him facing his back, using my thighs to hold on 'tight' because the ride was intense.
Leaning forward until my diamond-hard nipples stroked his back, I would use just my pointer fingers to poke. And poke and poke and poke. His sensitive sides, his underarms, his devilishly ticklish back muscles...only two fingers brought him closer to the brink of madness than just about anything else I did. Except for the finale.
Once he was delirious with his own ticklishness and just about too hoarse to even try to beg, I would slowly, slowly reach deep inside his boxers just underneath his hardness. Fitting my right hand to his inner thigh, I would grip the ultra, horribly ticklish muscles there while using my thumb to...stimulate...his deepest self. My other hand would death-grip that part of his left side, just under his ribs, where deep muscle kneading drove him far enough into insanity to offer me anything I wanted if I would just stop. And of course I would torture him, telling him over and over that if only I could understand him...he was a quaking and vibrating mess of helpless ticklishness. And the more he quivered the hotter I became, his wide back sending wickedly intense sensations into my core as I straddled and rode him like a bucking horse. The more he shook the faster I stroked him from underneath.; we would build and build and build until we'd both explode, my sex sealed tightly to his waist and my thighs shaking with the tension.
We lay there exhausted, dripping with sweat, while I'd make slow circles on his sides just to hear the barely-there begging. There is nothing so adorable as a bound, post-orgasm insanely ticklish dominant male. Nothing
And later it would be my turn. But that's another post...
My friend married and moved very far, I miss him. I hope she's pleasing him the way I did, it was entirely too much fun to miss
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This sounds like something I could only dream about. Thanks for taking the time to share. I hope you're still having this kind of fun.
