“What are we going to see tonight?”
“It’s a surprise.” He said.
He took me to a small arthouse cinema, picked up the tickets and we walked into the quiet theatre. This wasn’t the place for a blockbuster as there were maybe 50 seats. People sat in ones and twos and this looked like a serious group of cinephiles. I still didn’t know what we were seeing.
Our seats were one row from the back. We settled in, the lights went down and the trailers began.
“Do you want some popcorn?” He whispered. I told him I was fine and he decided he wanted to get some and disappeared.
I’d watched a couple of trailers when he returned. He put the popcorn on the small stand between us and then took two straps from his jacket pocket.
My eyes widened as I realised what he planned to do.
“We can’t do this here!” I whispered.
He pushed a piece of popcorn between my lips and quickly strapped my wrists to the armrests. I tested the straps but my arms were stuck. I hoped no-one could see.
With a satisfied sigh he took his seat and threw a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
The movie started. It was an old Eastern European movie about an aging man who worked at a remote railway station and spent most of his time doing mundane tasks.
He draped his arm around my shoulders. I could feel him grin without looking at him. “We can do this when we get home. Not here!” I whispered.
He fed me some popcorn. “I’ll make you a deal, if you can make it to the end of the movie without causing a scene, I’ll take you to that Malaysian restaurant you love afterwards.”
“And if I can’t?”
“I get another hour when we get home.”
I hated it when he did stuff like this. “OK, you get your hour but you take me to dinner first.” I decided I might as well get something out of this.
He leaned in closer and whispered. I could feel his lips almost on my ear which made the whole side of my body tingle.
“Deal, “although I was going to take you to dinner anyway.”
His fingertips were tracing a light pattern on my shoulder. It was Autumn so I was wearing a turtleneck but I could feel his fingers through the wool.
He kissed me on the cheek and then nipped my earlobe between his teeth. I let out a small gasp and in that moment his fingers snaked between my arm and my body and began to probe my ribs. I tried to scoot to the far side of my seat but he easily pulled me towards him. “Tender ribs, I better count them.” he whispered, he poked and squeezed my ribs while his eyes remained fixed on the screen.
The old man on screen was painting a fence and talking to an old woman in a headscarf.
I pressed my arm against my side. I didn’t want him getting his hand up to my armpit. His hand slid lower, stroking my side. I bit my lip, I was trembling with the effort of not laughing. With his forefinger and thumb he began pinching up and down my side. I squirmed and suppressed a giggle. This was so embarrassing. Soon people were going to figure out something was going on.
He slid towards me and pulled me into him. His hand continued tickling my sides. He pinched my hip, then pushed his fingers into the front pocket of my jeans. I gasped a little louder and let out some sort of unladylike snorting sound. Someone sitting in front of us turned and looked as if to let us know we were making a fuss.
Now his other hand pinched my knee and began to move up my thigh through my jeans. I started tingling as his hand moved higher and when he reached the top of my thigh he used the forefinger and thumb technique at the juncture of my thigh and hip. I pressed my face into his shoulder. I hoped it looked affectionate if anyone was paying attention but I was trying to muffle my laughter. I arched out of my seat a bit so see if that helped but it just allowed him to pinch deeper.
His far hand pulled my turtleneck up and he goosed my hip and worked his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. I snorted again around a small yelp.
Behind us an older woman sighed with what I took to be exasperation. Another head turned to look.
“Cut it out!” I whispered.
He did for a moment or two. His hand was still underneath my sweater. His fingers trickled along my stomach in a way that made me groan. He licked my ear and then his fingertip circled my belly button and I tensed my stomach. At least he couldn’t blow raspberries on me in the middle of the cinema.
As he teased my navel, his other hand finally squeezed up into my armpit where I reflexively clamped it in place. He began to wriggle his fingers and I let out another strangled giggle. With my wrists bound, I couldn’t even jam my palm over my mouth to hide my reactions.
At that moment something funny happened in the movie and there was a chorus of polite chuckles in the theatre. I gratefully joined in, laughing too long and too loud. I just had to get it out of my system. Next to me I heard him chuckling.
More heads turned to look at the girl who kept laughing.
I choked down my laughter. Even in the darkened space I could feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
A couple of rows in front of us someone muttered, “It wasn’t that funny.”
He alternated poking me in the belly button and in the armpit. Then he squeezed the top of my thigh. I kept jolting with the ticklish sensations. He was just being a dick now.
The woman behind sighed with increased exasperation. I turned and mouthed the word ‘sorry’ but even in the dark I could sense her shaking her head in disapproval.
I felt overheated and overstimulated. He started nibbling my ear again and blowing on it so now I had both of his hands and his mouth to deal with. He tickled me slowly and firmly.
“Wanna make out?” He said.
The look I gave him said it all.
“OK, tickling it is.” He took something out of his pocket and dropped it on the floor in front of me. He bent down to get it and I could feel him fumbling on the ground in the dark. But then I saw what his plan was. His head was practically in my lap. He pushed my sweater up and then the tip of his cold nose wiggled in my belly button.
I sucked my stomach in as far as I could. He didn’t blow raspberries but he nibbled and licked which was just as bad. I squirmed and tried to make my giggles as quiet as possible. I was breathing hard.
The woman behind us was not amused. “Do you mind?” she hissed.
He straightened up and waved his phone at her, “Found it,” he whispered.
She shook her head again.
“OK, that’s enough,” I said to him. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”
“We?” he said innocently, “you’re the one making all the noise.” To emphasise the point he squeezed my ribs. I bit my lips and stifled the laughter.
“Ahem,”
We looked up to see the guy who had checked our tickets looking down at us.
“Guys, we’ve had some patrons complain you are making quite a bit of noise so if you could keep it down…” he was polite and quiet and then he spotted the straps holding my wrists to the armrests. “What the fu….”
And that was when we were asked to leave the cinema.
True to his word, he did take me to my favourite Malaysian restaurant. The food was amazing.
When he got me home he did have his hour of tickling with me. But that’s another story.
“It’s a surprise.” He said.
He took me to a small arthouse cinema, picked up the tickets and we walked into the quiet theatre. This wasn’t the place for a blockbuster as there were maybe 50 seats. People sat in ones and twos and this looked like a serious group of cinephiles. I still didn’t know what we were seeing.
Our seats were one row from the back. We settled in, the lights went down and the trailers began.
“Do you want some popcorn?” He whispered. I told him I was fine and he decided he wanted to get some and disappeared.
I’d watched a couple of trailers when he returned. He put the popcorn on the small stand between us and then took two straps from his jacket pocket.
My eyes widened as I realised what he planned to do.
“We can’t do this here!” I whispered.
He pushed a piece of popcorn between my lips and quickly strapped my wrists to the armrests. I tested the straps but my arms were stuck. I hoped no-one could see.
With a satisfied sigh he took his seat and threw a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
The movie started. It was an old Eastern European movie about an aging man who worked at a remote railway station and spent most of his time doing mundane tasks.
He draped his arm around my shoulders. I could feel him grin without looking at him. “We can do this when we get home. Not here!” I whispered.
He fed me some popcorn. “I’ll make you a deal, if you can make it to the end of the movie without causing a scene, I’ll take you to that Malaysian restaurant you love afterwards.”
“And if I can’t?”
“I get another hour when we get home.”
I hated it when he did stuff like this. “OK, you get your hour but you take me to dinner first.” I decided I might as well get something out of this.
He leaned in closer and whispered. I could feel his lips almost on my ear which made the whole side of my body tingle.
“Deal, “although I was going to take you to dinner anyway.”
His fingertips were tracing a light pattern on my shoulder. It was Autumn so I was wearing a turtleneck but I could feel his fingers through the wool.
He kissed me on the cheek and then nipped my earlobe between his teeth. I let out a small gasp and in that moment his fingers snaked between my arm and my body and began to probe my ribs. I tried to scoot to the far side of my seat but he easily pulled me towards him. “Tender ribs, I better count them.” he whispered, he poked and squeezed my ribs while his eyes remained fixed on the screen.
The old man on screen was painting a fence and talking to an old woman in a headscarf.
I pressed my arm against my side. I didn’t want him getting his hand up to my armpit. His hand slid lower, stroking my side. I bit my lip, I was trembling with the effort of not laughing. With his forefinger and thumb he began pinching up and down my side. I squirmed and suppressed a giggle. This was so embarrassing. Soon people were going to figure out something was going on.
He slid towards me and pulled me into him. His hand continued tickling my sides. He pinched my hip, then pushed his fingers into the front pocket of my jeans. I gasped a little louder and let out some sort of unladylike snorting sound. Someone sitting in front of us turned and looked as if to let us know we were making a fuss.
Now his other hand pinched my knee and began to move up my thigh through my jeans. I started tingling as his hand moved higher and when he reached the top of my thigh he used the forefinger and thumb technique at the juncture of my thigh and hip. I pressed my face into his shoulder. I hoped it looked affectionate if anyone was paying attention but I was trying to muffle my laughter. I arched out of my seat a bit so see if that helped but it just allowed him to pinch deeper.
His far hand pulled my turtleneck up and he goosed my hip and worked his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. I snorted again around a small yelp.
Behind us an older woman sighed with what I took to be exasperation. Another head turned to look.
“Cut it out!” I whispered.
He did for a moment or two. His hand was still underneath my sweater. His fingers trickled along my stomach in a way that made me groan. He licked my ear and then his fingertip circled my belly button and I tensed my stomach. At least he couldn’t blow raspberries on me in the middle of the cinema.
As he teased my navel, his other hand finally squeezed up into my armpit where I reflexively clamped it in place. He began to wriggle his fingers and I let out another strangled giggle. With my wrists bound, I couldn’t even jam my palm over my mouth to hide my reactions.
At that moment something funny happened in the movie and there was a chorus of polite chuckles in the theatre. I gratefully joined in, laughing too long and too loud. I just had to get it out of my system. Next to me I heard him chuckling.
More heads turned to look at the girl who kept laughing.
I choked down my laughter. Even in the darkened space I could feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
A couple of rows in front of us someone muttered, “It wasn’t that funny.”
He alternated poking me in the belly button and in the armpit. Then he squeezed the top of my thigh. I kept jolting with the ticklish sensations. He was just being a dick now.
The woman behind sighed with increased exasperation. I turned and mouthed the word ‘sorry’ but even in the dark I could sense her shaking her head in disapproval.
I felt overheated and overstimulated. He started nibbling my ear again and blowing on it so now I had both of his hands and his mouth to deal with. He tickled me slowly and firmly.
“Wanna make out?” He said.
The look I gave him said it all.
“OK, tickling it is.” He took something out of his pocket and dropped it on the floor in front of me. He bent down to get it and I could feel him fumbling on the ground in the dark. But then I saw what his plan was. His head was practically in my lap. He pushed my sweater up and then the tip of his cold nose wiggled in my belly button.
I sucked my stomach in as far as I could. He didn’t blow raspberries but he nibbled and licked which was just as bad. I squirmed and tried to make my giggles as quiet as possible. I was breathing hard.
The woman behind us was not amused. “Do you mind?” she hissed.
He straightened up and waved his phone at her, “Found it,” he whispered.
She shook her head again.
“OK, that’s enough,” I said to him. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”
“We?” he said innocently, “you’re the one making all the noise.” To emphasise the point he squeezed my ribs. I bit my lips and stifled the laughter.
“Ahem,”
We looked up to see the guy who had checked our tickets looking down at us.
“Guys, we’ve had some patrons complain you are making quite a bit of noise so if you could keep it down…” he was polite and quiet and then he spotted the straps holding my wrists to the armrests. “What the fu….”
And that was when we were asked to leave the cinema.
True to his word, he did take me to my favourite Malaysian restaurant. The food was amazing.
When he got me home he did have his hour of tickling with me. But that’s another story.
