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To Tickle a Wallflower (M/F)

GarnettRose

TMF Regular
Joined
Apr 5, 2024
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153
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Sitting in a secluded corner of a crowded frat party, the noise and flashing lights stabbing into her senses like barbed wire, Rosie massaged her temples. She knew coming here had been a mistake. She’d told her friend Ashe (who had taken the liberty of dragging her here) that she’d had better things to do with her Friday evenings like studying…and reading…and potentially spending way too much time fawning over certain sci-fi captains.

Ok, she can admit it, she is lame. At best other students might find her nerdy shyness endearing, at its worst…well let’s just say high school had not been a walk in the park for her. But this was college. A chance for new beginnings surrounded by peers that had hopefully grown out of schoolyard taunts. Rosie had hoped that college would provide the experiences that high school did not. Parties, large friend groups, and romance, but three years into her degree, though she had made a handful of close friends that she loved dearly, it was hardly the cinematic daydream that she’d hoped for. Sure, students were nicer, and finding other wallflowers was made easy on a campus so large, but social anxiety is a bitch not easily gotten rid of.

Every time she so much as opened her mouth around a potential partner, whether it be platonic or the much more terrifying romantic variety, her tongue turned to lead, and she became a stammering mess. Rosie is a name quite fitting for a girl so easily flustered by those who inspire swarms of butterflies in her tummy.

She really tried tonight. Her gold-wire glasses reflecting the rapidly shifting colors of party lights. Her hair, a shoulder-length auburn that was not quite ginger but not quite brown fell in ringlets around her pale, freckled skin. She spent so much time hidden in heavy sweaters and cardigans, that to be in a knee-length black dress with elbow-length sleeves was enough to leave her feeling positively exposed. Even if her dress was modest by sorority standards. She rubbed against her calf mindlessly. A tattoo of a raven feather pointed and curling teasingly close to her mary janes.

Despite her inexperience in the romance department, Rosie was hardly a prude. But there was something about being surrounded by embracing couples, their lips loosened by alcohol, that made the hole in her chest throb. Her friends were off drinking and dancing, not that she judged them for it, and she could only sit and wait for the night to be over. Too paralyzed by her own social ineptitude to make that first step.

“Hello lovely,” a voice spoke to her right, barely audible over the music.
Rosie turned; her face flushed instantly with recognition as one of the cutest TAs in the history department took his seat next to her on the couch.

“O-oh, um hi James,” Rosie stammered, her eyes struggling to meet his piercing blue.

Being sequestered so often in the English department, their paths rarely crossed. When they did, however, his crystal blue eyes and sandy brown hair never failed to send her reeling. It only took one class, Introduction to Arthurian Lore, with him as her TA, for Rosie to fall head over heels instantly.
James chuckled at her shy stutter “I’m surprised to see you here Rosie, I figured parties like this weren’t quite your speed. But I must say…you do look beautiful”, he said, his eyes trailing up and down her figure, lingering on her calf.

Rosie fidgeted with her hands, her eyes cast to the ground, “Oh yes, u-usually I p-prefer a quiet night in, but my friends bullied me into c-coming.”

He placed his hands on hers, calming them and providing her a focal point with which to ground herself.“Well, a few of the graduate students have gathered in one of the study rooms, why don’t you come join us? I can’t promise that they’re not all assholes, but it’s at least a bit less overwhelming than this lot.
With a gentle nod, she allowed him to lead her through the house until at last, they arrived. The room reminded her of the Victorian novels she was so fond of. With emerald walls, dark walnut tables, and a gentle glow provided by fine glass lamps, it was a scene fit for a famous consulting detective. A scene that was absolutely wasted on the rich college boys that populated Kappa Sigma. Glasses of whiskey and gin glimmered underneath the muted lamp light and the soft laughter of friends and colleagues filled the room. Rosie’s nerves eased as the cacophony of noise was muffled by the closed door.

The setting was hardly perfect, but it was cozy, and it was far better than anything Rosie could have hoped for out in the living area they’d turned into a dance floor.

Rosie took her seat next to James at the largest table surrounded by four other graduate students easing her way into the familiar territory of discussing majors and academic small talk. Seated next to him, it was almost easy to forget her social woes and relax into conversation.
It would have been so easy to fall into cozy conversation all night until that is, one of the other graduate students uttered four words that set her heart into near arrhythmia.

Seven minutes in heaven, a game she’d hoped she’d escaped out of high school, and a game that was sending her into a nervous frenzy as the students gathered around the largest table, an empty bottle of Tennessee whiskey an ominous centerpiece.

Rosie shivered as she felt James’ breath caress her sensitive ears. She held her breath, praying that she wouldn’t give it all away with a stray giggle.

“If you’re nervous, we can always back out Rosie. I don’t want these assholes pressuring you”, he whispered, his hands slowly trailing up and down her bare arms.
“No, it’s alright”, she said, straightening her spine with resolve. She may never have had the opportunity to play this in grade school, but she’d be damned if she was going to back out now, not with those hypnotizing blue eyes watching her every move.
Taking her seat at the table, her heart stuttered as she felt the warmth of his hand clasp her own. One by one the bottle spun. Couples paired off into nearby closets and dorm rooms until finally, it was her turn to spin. The chill of the glass made her shiver as the bottle twirled around and around, leaving her aflame as it landed on the one she wanted most.
She met his eyes, scared but hopeful, when she felt the heat of his gentle affection staring down at her.

“Well, aren’t I a lucky chap,” he said with a smile, “A table full of students and I get to kiss the prettiest one here.”
Rosie gasped at the compliment, her heart racing as he gently led her once more to the nearest alcove, a coat closet on the far end of the house. Her breathing quickened as she felt the warmth of his body up against her. She’d been kissed before, a handful of shy pecks exchanged after first dates that ultimately led nowhere, but she’d never had the opportunity to share such a thing with a man who made her feel this way.

For once she decided to be brave. Without a second thought, her lips captured his in a passionate kiss, their lips moving together in an intimate dance of heat and frenzy. Her skin burned as his hands traveled up and down her back, but her fate was sealed as they grazed her ribs. Her giggles muffled by his pillow-soft lips, At once, he broke the kiss, his face beaming with a satisfied grin.
“I knew it, dearie,” he said, mischief crossing his features.

Rosie hid her face in his neck, wishing in vain that the floor would swallow her up, “K-knew what,” she stuttered.

He brought her eyes back to his, holding her face in his hands and gently kissing her lips once more before he leaned to whisper in her ears. “You’re ticklish aren’t you lovely,” he said with a grin. His hands returned to her sensitive ribs, playing each one as a pianist may play notes on a scale, Rosie’s laughter his music, and his reward.

“Jahahamess hahahaha please please please,” she begged, though whether it was for more or for a stop, she could not tell you.

“I think my pretty little student is ticklish for me, isn’t that right lovely,” he taunted. His hands traveled from her ribs down her sides, his fingers fluttering and grabbing at every sensitive spot he could find. Rosie’s laughter grew with each moment under his devilish attentions. It was only his firm kisses, capturing her laughter into his lips that quieted her ticklish insanity.
With her back to the door and his arms encircling her, there was nowhere she could escape to…and in her entrapment, she felt free.

With every ticklish caress, she held tighter. With every new spot uncovered, she only kissed him harder. Wrapping her legs around him, her arms around his neck, she opened herself up to every sensitive assault that he could bring to her senses. At the end of the night, she could not tell you if they were in there for seven minutes or seven hours, only that she wished she could spend an eternity in his ticklish embrace.

But all good things must come to an end. With a pounding at the closet door, they finally separated. Her hair was in chaos, and her makeup washed away from the tears of laughter that he so lovingly coaxed from her. With a squeeze of her hand, he led her back, the house now quiet.

“You know lovely, next time I will take you somewhere nice, and we will end our night with you tied to my bed. To tease, to torment, and to tickle until you go mad.” He cooed in her delicate ears. With one last giggle, she kissed him and agreed. She would follow that man anywhere, even if it promised her a lifetime of devilish touches.
 
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