MikeMenace
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THE GOTH AND THE PSYCHO:
SARAH STAYS SERIOUS
by MikeMenace
Sarah Donovan finishes drying her hair and puts on her favourite bathrobe.
With her teenage daughter sleeping at her friend's place, this is the first evening in a long while she gets to spend with her husband and without 'hey, moms'.
She walks out of the bathroom wearing nothing but her bathrobe, her bare feet clapping on the floor. There, in the living room, sitting on the couch in his gym pants and a beat up Meteors t-shirt, is Johnny Donovan, the most handsome man she ever met. But that was 23 years ago. Now his trademark psychobilly quiff is slowly but surely losing the battle against male pattern baldness and his physique becomes more of a dad bod with every passing year. But goddamit, he's her man and she wouldn't trade him for anyone else.
Johnny is lazily browsing through the measly Netflix horror section when he hears her coming. He turns and his eyes grow wide in surprise.
"I see you're not wasting time and going straight to the naughty part," he blurts out.
For a brief moment she feels self-conscious about her body. Her 42nd birthday last month really got her thinking about wrinkles and parts that were no longer perky. But before the dread of aging can overwhelm her she sees the look on his face. She first saw it 23 years ago at that fateful Cramps concert where they met. He shot her a gaze that seemed to say 'I want you'. Now, two decades later, she sees that same gleam of desire in his eyes and she feels like she's nineteen again.
She saunters over to the couch, her hips rocking from side to side. Johnny's gaze follows her every step. She joins him on the couch and puts her size 8 feet in his lap. He is almost salivating at the sight of her wiggling toes. She found out he's into her feet early into their dating and she made sure to keep them looking good ever since.
"Take care of my feet, Big Boy," she says.
He gently caresses her sole with the palm of his hand.
"You haven't called me Big Boy since 2011," he says with a hint of mischief in his eye.
"Haven't I?" she purrs.
"You know what else we haven't done since 2011? We haven't played Sarah Stays Serious."
Her heart beat quickens at the suggestion. Sarah Stays Serious started with Johnny joking about Sarah being a stereotypical serious, melancholic goth girl. One thing led to another and it became their own private tickle game. A tickle game she never remembered winning.
"You... You wouldn't dare," she says, her cheeks turning pink.
"Wouldn't I?"
"Besides, I'm not ticklish anymore," she lies. She feels that she's getting wet.
"I guess it will be an easy win for you then. Remember the rules? No matter what I do, Sarah must stay serious. No laughing allowed."
She takes a deep breath to calm her growing giddiness and puts on her best serious face.
"Do your worst," she says with barely disguised amusement.
He starts by slowly running his index finger up her right sole. He starts at her heel, moves up her arch, then around the ball and under her toes. The moment his finger touches her foot Sarah feels the corners of her mouth curl up into an involuntary grin, ticklish mirth already building up inside her.
"Is that a smile I'm seeing?" Johnny asks with that annoyingly sexy, smug smirk of his. She almost bursts out giggling then and there.
Sarah clears her throat and forces her lips into a straight line.
"N...no" she answers, her voice tinged with amusement.
"No?" he asks as he draws small circles on the ball of her left foot.
Her eyes grow wide with panic and she breathes in sharply. She wiggles her foot to shake off that damn tickling finger of his.
"Feeling ticklish?" he asks.
"Fuck you," she hisses through her teeth.
"Language," Johnny says playfully as he gently squeezes her leg just above the knee. She jumps with a squeal.
"Careful. That was almost a laugh."
"I'm not laughing... AYYY!" she gasps as his fingertips trace the top of her right foot, his touch feather-light.
He then moves to her arch and she has to bite her lip to keep the giggles from spilling out. Johnny's touch is devilishly gentle, his fingertips merely grazing her skin. But it's more then enough to make her want to squeal and cackle. Damn him. She's on the verge of breaking and he's still toying with her.
"We both know you wanna laugh," he says, making her whimper with the effort of holding back her giggles.
She tries to cross her feet to protect her right arch so he slowly drags his nails down her left sole. Her breath quickens. He keeps alternating between gentle spider tickling and slowly dragging his nails down or across her soles and she feels like she's about to go bonkers. Her breathing is fast and erratic. She's squinting her eyes and pulling faces. She's panicking as her laughter tries to force its way out.
"Here come the giggles," Johnny says teasingly as he grabs the toes of her left foot and bends them back stretching her sole taut. He then slowly tickles the ball and the arch of her foot with his nails. Sarah's foot quivers in his grip as electric currents of ticklish agony run up her legs. Her eyes are wide as saucers with tickle panic. Suddenly she clamps her hands over her mouth and unleashes a muffled laugh.This prompts him to wrap his strong arm around both her ankles, putting her legs in a headlock. For a brief moment the tickling stops.
"Covering your mouth is cheating. You know what happens to cheaters?" Johnny asks.
"Please, don't. I... I didn't mean to cheat," she begs, a mix of panic and giddiness in her voice.
"Remember. No laughing," he teases.
"You suck," Sarah says through clenched teeth as she braces herself mentally. She knows what's coming but she's still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction of making her laugh. Not without a struggle at least.
And then the tickling starts again. And it makes his previous attempts look like child's play. His nails go after one sole and then the other, fast and merciless. She tries to jerk her legs free but he holds on like a vice. She fights for her dear life to keep herself from laughing... for about two seconds. Then the dam bursts. It starts with a snort that turns into a tidal wave of desperate cackles and squeals.
His nails attack her feet in a seemingly random pattern. He scratches her heel. Then the arch. Then he lightly drags his fingernail down the side of one foot only to follow it with a tickle attack to the toes of the other. All she can do is thrash on the couch, laughing hysterically and shouting expletives that would make a sailor blush.
"Mercy, you evil fucker!" she begs between peals of laughter.
"Say you give up."
"I dooHOOHOOHOOHOO!"
"You do what?" he asks, as his finger dips in and out of those hyper-sensitive spots between her toes.
Sarah starts thrashing with renewed vigour, shrieking with laughter. She wants to give up. Badly. But words can't get through her cackles. In a desperate surge of strength she pulls one leg free. He goes to town on the other foot and for a moment she feels like she's about to pee herself laughing. But then she places the freed foot between his shoulder blades and pushes with all the strength she has left. He loses his grip on her leg and slides off the couch, landing ass first on the floor with a loud thud. Sarah frantically rubs her soles to get rid of the residue ticklish sensations. Then, seeing that he is picking himself off the floor she quickly rolls her feet under her butt and away from his reach.
"Beast!" she says and sticks out her tongue at him.
"Oh, I love when you call me names."
She is now very aware of how dishelved she must look. Her bathrobe is open, giving Johnny a good view of her naked body. She's sweaty, sore and her hair's a mess. But, most importantly, she is horny as fuck.
"You lost," Johnny says eyeing her lustfully. That self-satisfied grin is on his face again. Her gaze falls lower and she purrs in delight. The front of his gym shorts is obscenely tented. Obviously she's not the only one affected by their game.
"I certainly did, Big Boy," Sarah says with a chuckle. And as she's looking at her husband's raging boner a mischievous idea goes through her mind.
"Sarah Stays Serious is not the only game we haven't played in a while," she says with a wicked grin, "For round two we'll play Cinema Catastrophe."
His jaws drops. "We haven't played that game since we were what? 21?"
"Yup."
"But it..."
"... it involves you having to sit through a movie while having your dick played with, yes. What's the matter? Big bad psychobilly is worried about his stamina?"
Her question has merits. After all, Cinema Catastrophy is named after the mess he made in his jeans the first time they played it. In a crowded cinema of all places.
"Big bad psychobilly is almost 43. He can control himself," Johnny says proudly. And that's when Sarah knows she caught him, hook, line and sinker.
"Is that so? Put on a movie then and let the games begin."
He fidgets with the remote for a moment and puts on the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The 2022 one.
"Ahh. An excellent choice in subpar horror sequels," she teases him.
"I told you we should have bought Shudder."
"Fine. I'll get you a subscription for your birthday. But now... Now relax and enjoy your movie. Remember the rules? I won't stop playing with your cock until the end credits roll or until you cum in your pants."
Sarah takes off her bathrobe and throws it across the room. It lands under the TV stand where he can see it. She lets out a dark chuckle seeing Johnny swallow nervously. He is very much aware that his wife is sitting next to him stark naked. To make him even more aware of this fact she moves close to him, her bare breasts pressing against his left arm. He gasps sharply.
"You're in so much trouble, Big Boy," she whispers in his ear, as her left hand finds his erection. She drags her nails over the head of his cock and it jumps under her touch. Slowly and teasingly she traces his penis through his gym shorts. She takes her sweet time teasing Johnny out of his mind. He's desperately trying to focus on the movie to take his mind away from her ministrations but one look at his glazed eyes tells her that it's a losing battle.
"Kiss me," she whispers in his ear.
"I know it's a trap," he groans in response, his voice already strained.
"Your loss," she says and plants a feather-light kiss on his ear. Then another on his neck. The next kiss makes him shudder. A slow lick to his ear makes him squirm in his seat and let out a quiet giggle.
"Tickles," he complains.
"I know. And we both know what tickling does to you."
Sarah can already feel it under her fingers - a wet spot on his shorts near the tip of his cock. Usually he didn't start leaking precum until halfway into the movie. But never before did he have to withstand his wife's advances while she's nude and not worried about being discreet.
"Poor Johnny. You still have to resist over an hour of getting your dick played with by a hot, naked goth MILF. How on earth will you keep your pants dry?" Her right arm wraps around his back and her fingertips dance upon his ribs. He squirms and chuckles at her touch. "Poor Johnny, getting horny from a little tickling."
"I can hold it," he whimpers and she giggles at his defiance.
"Trying to convince me? Or yourself?" Sarah grabs his shaft through his gym shorts and starts pumping. He helplessly thrusts his pelvis, seeking more stimulation from her hand. As she rubs him she keeps gently tickling up and down his right side making him squirm and giggle. He is breathing heavily now. She doubts that he's even registering the movie anymore. His body is rigid with tension. Sweat rolls down his forehead. She can even see his goosebumps. Johnny's gonna blow. Soon. He turns to her, a mix of bliss, ticklish frustration and desperation on his face.
"You gotta slow down..." he says.
"Why?"
"You know why."
"I'm afraid you have to hold it in, Big Boy," she says and gooses his ribs to accentuate her teasing words. He jumps in his seat and yelps.
In an act of utter desperation he reaches down and grabs her by the wrist to stop her from stroking his throbbing, leaking cock.
"You shouldn't have done that," Sarah says mischievously. She starts gently kissing the left side of his neck while gently tracing his right flank with her fingernails. In a few seconds of this sensuous torture she has him sitting there twisted in a weird, cramped up, defensive position cackling like a maniac. "Tickle, tickle, tickle," she whispers between teasing kisses. And then she goes for the kill. She finds his frenulum with her thumb and starts rubbing. Johnny arches his back and lets out a loud, needy moan.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," he whimpers under his breath and then his cock surrenders to the pleasure. It jumps and pulses under her hand as it shoots blast after blast of semen inside Johnny's underwear. Johnny himself is quivering in orgasmic bliss. Sarah keeps thumbing at his frenulum until he rides out his climax. She then removes her hands from his now thoroughly soaked gym shorts.
"Jesus, fuck..." he groans looking at the state of his clothes.
"I thought psychobillies weren't religious," Sarah teases as she admires her handiwork, "Fuck, you really made a mess."
"Yeah... I guess I did."
"And the movie barely started."
"Yeah... The movie..." he whimpers as he switches off the TV, "To be fair, I barely noticed it was on."
Sarah gets up from the couch, grabs Johnny by the hand and pulls him to his feet. Then she starts guiding him towards the bathroom.
"Clean yourself up and meet me in the bedroom for round three," she says as she gives him a spank and pushes him inside.
"I love you!" she hears him shout from behind the bathroom door.
"I know," she says as she heads to the bedroom.
THE END
SARAH STAYS SERIOUS
by MikeMenace
Sarah Donovan finishes drying her hair and puts on her favourite bathrobe.
With her teenage daughter sleeping at her friend's place, this is the first evening in a long while she gets to spend with her husband and without 'hey, moms'.
She walks out of the bathroom wearing nothing but her bathrobe, her bare feet clapping on the floor. There, in the living room, sitting on the couch in his gym pants and a beat up Meteors t-shirt, is Johnny Donovan, the most handsome man she ever met. But that was 23 years ago. Now his trademark psychobilly quiff is slowly but surely losing the battle against male pattern baldness and his physique becomes more of a dad bod with every passing year. But goddamit, he's her man and she wouldn't trade him for anyone else.
Johnny is lazily browsing through the measly Netflix horror section when he hears her coming. He turns and his eyes grow wide in surprise.
"I see you're not wasting time and going straight to the naughty part," he blurts out.
For a brief moment she feels self-conscious about her body. Her 42nd birthday last month really got her thinking about wrinkles and parts that were no longer perky. But before the dread of aging can overwhelm her she sees the look on his face. She first saw it 23 years ago at that fateful Cramps concert where they met. He shot her a gaze that seemed to say 'I want you'. Now, two decades later, she sees that same gleam of desire in his eyes and she feels like she's nineteen again.
She saunters over to the couch, her hips rocking from side to side. Johnny's gaze follows her every step. She joins him on the couch and puts her size 8 feet in his lap. He is almost salivating at the sight of her wiggling toes. She found out he's into her feet early into their dating and she made sure to keep them looking good ever since.
"Take care of my feet, Big Boy," she says.
He gently caresses her sole with the palm of his hand.
"You haven't called me Big Boy since 2011," he says with a hint of mischief in his eye.
"Haven't I?" she purrs.
"You know what else we haven't done since 2011? We haven't played Sarah Stays Serious."
Her heart beat quickens at the suggestion. Sarah Stays Serious started with Johnny joking about Sarah being a stereotypical serious, melancholic goth girl. One thing led to another and it became their own private tickle game. A tickle game she never remembered winning.
"You... You wouldn't dare," she says, her cheeks turning pink.
"Wouldn't I?"
"Besides, I'm not ticklish anymore," she lies. She feels that she's getting wet.
"I guess it will be an easy win for you then. Remember the rules? No matter what I do, Sarah must stay serious. No laughing allowed."
She takes a deep breath to calm her growing giddiness and puts on her best serious face.
"Do your worst," she says with barely disguised amusement.
He starts by slowly running his index finger up her right sole. He starts at her heel, moves up her arch, then around the ball and under her toes. The moment his finger touches her foot Sarah feels the corners of her mouth curl up into an involuntary grin, ticklish mirth already building up inside her.
"Is that a smile I'm seeing?" Johnny asks with that annoyingly sexy, smug smirk of his. She almost bursts out giggling then and there.
Sarah clears her throat and forces her lips into a straight line.
"N...no" she answers, her voice tinged with amusement.
"No?" he asks as he draws small circles on the ball of her left foot.
Her eyes grow wide with panic and she breathes in sharply. She wiggles her foot to shake off that damn tickling finger of his.
"Feeling ticklish?" he asks.
"Fuck you," she hisses through her teeth.
"Language," Johnny says playfully as he gently squeezes her leg just above the knee. She jumps with a squeal.
"Careful. That was almost a laugh."
"I'm not laughing... AYYY!" she gasps as his fingertips trace the top of her right foot, his touch feather-light.
He then moves to her arch and she has to bite her lip to keep the giggles from spilling out. Johnny's touch is devilishly gentle, his fingertips merely grazing her skin. But it's more then enough to make her want to squeal and cackle. Damn him. She's on the verge of breaking and he's still toying with her.
"We both know you wanna laugh," he says, making her whimper with the effort of holding back her giggles.
She tries to cross her feet to protect her right arch so he slowly drags his nails down her left sole. Her breath quickens. He keeps alternating between gentle spider tickling and slowly dragging his nails down or across her soles and she feels like she's about to go bonkers. Her breathing is fast and erratic. She's squinting her eyes and pulling faces. She's panicking as her laughter tries to force its way out.
"Here come the giggles," Johnny says teasingly as he grabs the toes of her left foot and bends them back stretching her sole taut. He then slowly tickles the ball and the arch of her foot with his nails. Sarah's foot quivers in his grip as electric currents of ticklish agony run up her legs. Her eyes are wide as saucers with tickle panic. Suddenly she clamps her hands over her mouth and unleashes a muffled laugh.This prompts him to wrap his strong arm around both her ankles, putting her legs in a headlock. For a brief moment the tickling stops.
"Covering your mouth is cheating. You know what happens to cheaters?" Johnny asks.
"Please, don't. I... I didn't mean to cheat," she begs, a mix of panic and giddiness in her voice.
"Remember. No laughing," he teases.
"You suck," Sarah says through clenched teeth as she braces herself mentally. She knows what's coming but she's still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction of making her laugh. Not without a struggle at least.
And then the tickling starts again. And it makes his previous attempts look like child's play. His nails go after one sole and then the other, fast and merciless. She tries to jerk her legs free but he holds on like a vice. She fights for her dear life to keep herself from laughing... for about two seconds. Then the dam bursts. It starts with a snort that turns into a tidal wave of desperate cackles and squeals.
His nails attack her feet in a seemingly random pattern. He scratches her heel. Then the arch. Then he lightly drags his fingernail down the side of one foot only to follow it with a tickle attack to the toes of the other. All she can do is thrash on the couch, laughing hysterically and shouting expletives that would make a sailor blush.
"Mercy, you evil fucker!" she begs between peals of laughter.
"Say you give up."
"I dooHOOHOOHOOHOO!"
"You do what?" he asks, as his finger dips in and out of those hyper-sensitive spots between her toes.
Sarah starts thrashing with renewed vigour, shrieking with laughter. She wants to give up. Badly. But words can't get through her cackles. In a desperate surge of strength she pulls one leg free. He goes to town on the other foot and for a moment she feels like she's about to pee herself laughing. But then she places the freed foot between his shoulder blades and pushes with all the strength she has left. He loses his grip on her leg and slides off the couch, landing ass first on the floor with a loud thud. Sarah frantically rubs her soles to get rid of the residue ticklish sensations. Then, seeing that he is picking himself off the floor she quickly rolls her feet under her butt and away from his reach.
"Beast!" she says and sticks out her tongue at him.
"Oh, I love when you call me names."
She is now very aware of how dishelved she must look. Her bathrobe is open, giving Johnny a good view of her naked body. She's sweaty, sore and her hair's a mess. But, most importantly, she is horny as fuck.
"You lost," Johnny says eyeing her lustfully. That self-satisfied grin is on his face again. Her gaze falls lower and she purrs in delight. The front of his gym shorts is obscenely tented. Obviously she's not the only one affected by their game.
"I certainly did, Big Boy," Sarah says with a chuckle. And as she's looking at her husband's raging boner a mischievous idea goes through her mind.
"Sarah Stays Serious is not the only game we haven't played in a while," she says with a wicked grin, "For round two we'll play Cinema Catastrophe."
His jaws drops. "We haven't played that game since we were what? 21?"
"Yup."
"But it..."
"... it involves you having to sit through a movie while having your dick played with, yes. What's the matter? Big bad psychobilly is worried about his stamina?"
Her question has merits. After all, Cinema Catastrophy is named after the mess he made in his jeans the first time they played it. In a crowded cinema of all places.
"Big bad psychobilly is almost 43. He can control himself," Johnny says proudly. And that's when Sarah knows she caught him, hook, line and sinker.
"Is that so? Put on a movie then and let the games begin."
He fidgets with the remote for a moment and puts on the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The 2022 one.
"Ahh. An excellent choice in subpar horror sequels," she teases him.
"I told you we should have bought Shudder."
"Fine. I'll get you a subscription for your birthday. But now... Now relax and enjoy your movie. Remember the rules? I won't stop playing with your cock until the end credits roll or until you cum in your pants."
Sarah takes off her bathrobe and throws it across the room. It lands under the TV stand where he can see it. She lets out a dark chuckle seeing Johnny swallow nervously. He is very much aware that his wife is sitting next to him stark naked. To make him even more aware of this fact she moves close to him, her bare breasts pressing against his left arm. He gasps sharply.
"You're in so much trouble, Big Boy," she whispers in his ear, as her left hand finds his erection. She drags her nails over the head of his cock and it jumps under her touch. Slowly and teasingly she traces his penis through his gym shorts. She takes her sweet time teasing Johnny out of his mind. He's desperately trying to focus on the movie to take his mind away from her ministrations but one look at his glazed eyes tells her that it's a losing battle.
"Kiss me," she whispers in his ear.
"I know it's a trap," he groans in response, his voice already strained.
"Your loss," she says and plants a feather-light kiss on his ear. Then another on his neck. The next kiss makes him shudder. A slow lick to his ear makes him squirm in his seat and let out a quiet giggle.
"Tickles," he complains.
"I know. And we both know what tickling does to you."
Sarah can already feel it under her fingers - a wet spot on his shorts near the tip of his cock. Usually he didn't start leaking precum until halfway into the movie. But never before did he have to withstand his wife's advances while she's nude and not worried about being discreet.
"Poor Johnny. You still have to resist over an hour of getting your dick played with by a hot, naked goth MILF. How on earth will you keep your pants dry?" Her right arm wraps around his back and her fingertips dance upon his ribs. He squirms and chuckles at her touch. "Poor Johnny, getting horny from a little tickling."
"I can hold it," he whimpers and she giggles at his defiance.
"Trying to convince me? Or yourself?" Sarah grabs his shaft through his gym shorts and starts pumping. He helplessly thrusts his pelvis, seeking more stimulation from her hand. As she rubs him she keeps gently tickling up and down his right side making him squirm and giggle. He is breathing heavily now. She doubts that he's even registering the movie anymore. His body is rigid with tension. Sweat rolls down his forehead. She can even see his goosebumps. Johnny's gonna blow. Soon. He turns to her, a mix of bliss, ticklish frustration and desperation on his face.
"You gotta slow down..." he says.
"Why?"
"You know why."
"I'm afraid you have to hold it in, Big Boy," she says and gooses his ribs to accentuate her teasing words. He jumps in his seat and yelps.
In an act of utter desperation he reaches down and grabs her by the wrist to stop her from stroking his throbbing, leaking cock.
"You shouldn't have done that," Sarah says mischievously. She starts gently kissing the left side of his neck while gently tracing his right flank with her fingernails. In a few seconds of this sensuous torture she has him sitting there twisted in a weird, cramped up, defensive position cackling like a maniac. "Tickle, tickle, tickle," she whispers between teasing kisses. And then she goes for the kill. She finds his frenulum with her thumb and starts rubbing. Johnny arches his back and lets out a loud, needy moan.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," he whimpers under his breath and then his cock surrenders to the pleasure. It jumps and pulses under her hand as it shoots blast after blast of semen inside Johnny's underwear. Johnny himself is quivering in orgasmic bliss. Sarah keeps thumbing at his frenulum until he rides out his climax. She then removes her hands from his now thoroughly soaked gym shorts.
"Jesus, fuck..." he groans looking at the state of his clothes.
"I thought psychobillies weren't religious," Sarah teases as she admires her handiwork, "Fuck, you really made a mess."
"Yeah... I guess I did."
"And the movie barely started."
"Yeah... The movie..." he whimpers as he switches off the TV, "To be fair, I barely noticed it was on."
Sarah gets up from the couch, grabs Johnny by the hand and pulls him to his feet. Then she starts guiding him towards the bathroom.
"Clean yourself up and meet me in the bedroom for round three," she says as she gives him a spank and pushes him inside.
"I love you!" she hears him shout from behind the bathroom door.
"I know," she says as she heads to the bedroom.
THE END
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