You watch me in a darkened room. The curtains are drawn but the windows are open, with a warm afternoon breeze filtering in. There are faint sounds of the world outside, but the room is otherwise quiet and still. I have been lying motionless on the bed, curled up, in a deep sleep. You have been sitting beside the bed patiently, watching and waiting….
You were hoping to start immediately, but you could see how tired and exhausted I was. I said I was ready, but you didn’t have the heart to launch straight into it when I was so clearly shattered. You told me to simply lie down on the bed and close my eyes. I did exactly what you said, and I was asleep in moments.
This left you sitting there, tense and hard. You had been dreaming of this moment for god knows how long – to have me within touching distance. To make true everything we had talked and fantasied about, and then more. And now, here I was, present in the flesh, tantalizingly close. But you have to sit and wait.
This was more than a little frustrating, but you used the time wisely to run your eyes across every facet of my body and take mental notes. I was taller than you had envisaged. My body was tanned and athletic. You thought to yourself that I looked like I had been a competitive swimmer in a past life. My breasts were on the smaller side, you thought to yourself, but still a good handful.
As I breathed out, my cleavage heaved in the push-up bra and tank top I had worn especially for you—maximum skin. My legs were covered by only a pair of short denim shorts. And they were obscenely long – like a model. It was those legs that had turned just about every male head in the room (including yours) when I walked into the foyer not that long ago.
You feel yourself get harder and harder as your eyes silently investigate all the little spots that are yours for the weekend – to do whatever you like with.
Suddenly, I shift. I sigh and roll over onto my back. I stretch my arms over my head and my eyelids flutter. I am at last waking up. You don’t waste a moment. You are there right beside me as I groggily open my eyes. My arms were already in position – you pin them there with one hand.
You watch my reactions carefully as I come around. At first, confusion. I am in an unfamiliar place. I don’t know you.
Then, my eyes widen as I realise where I am and what is about to happen. My gaze shoots up at my restrained arms, then onto your face. You hold your breath. I smile, close my eyes, and bite my lip with anticipation. You know you have my tacit approval.
You place your fingertips on my wrists. I flinch but otherwise stay silent. My eyes stay closed. You slowly, purposely run one fingertip down the inside of my left forearm. You pause in the inside of my elbow to lightly tickle, and then continue your descent down. You can feel me holding my breath but I otherwise give nothing away. You stop just before you get to my underarm and repeat on my right side. I remain silent, motionless.
“Fine,” you think to yourself. “We’ll play it your way.”
You start again at my left wrist, this time using all your fingertips to tickle lightly down my arm. You feel me tense up as you reach my underarms.
You whisper, “Are you ready?”
I shiver, first from your words, and then from the flood of sensations as your fingers invade my underarm, barely touching. It’s only a small reaction, but it’s enough to give you a surge of adrenaline as you repeat the process again on my right arm.
You press your hardness up against me as you reach my right underarm. I gasp, and then squeal under my breath. I try desperately to suppress my physiological responses. But you can tell. The goosebumps give it away.
“Are you enjoying this?” you ask, smirking.
I momentarily regain my composure, open my large blue eyes, and lock you with my stare. I open my mouth to give you a smartass reply, but you’re way ahead of me. You poke your fingers into my underarm, and my words are replaced with shrieks. I thrash, but you have me pinned tight and there is nowhere to go.
You return to the light tickles, telling me that was just a taster.
“The more you behave, the less I’ll tickle,” you say.
We both laugh because we know that’s a lie and that I couldn’t behave if my life depended on it.
You trace your fingers along my collarbone and down my left side, softly tickling. I’m now writhing under your touch. You lift up my top and expose my abdomen. You circle one finger around and around. I buck and moan. I’m in heaven and I never want this to end.
Then you stop. You let go of my wrists. I look up at you with a mixture of disappointment and anticipation. I know you have something else planned. I was right.
“Keep your hands above your head,” you say sternly. “Every time you pull your arms down, you lose an item of clothing.”
I raise a cheeky eyebrow at you as if to say, “Really??”
But I otherwise say nothing and follow your instructions.
You now have two hands free to torment me with. You straddle my hips and survey my upper body. I can feel how turned on you are, how badly you want it. I want it too and I arch my back, grinding up at you. I think I can reclaim the power. I want to make you lose control so that you tear off my shorts and panties and bury yourself deep inside me.
But I underestimate you. You have way too much self control to be swayed by such an amateur move. In fact, you are now emboldened because you can see what an aroused mess I am, and we have barely started.
You start on my exposed abdomen, using both hands to flutter around and test for tickle spots. I squirm and let out the occasional squeal but my arms stay up. Your fingers crawl higher and sneak under the fabric of my shirt.
“No fair” I whimper, just before you poke your fingers into a sensitive spot right underneath my breasts.
My hands dart down to grab at yours. You sigh with mock disappointment.
“Uh oh, now you lose the shirt.”
I glare back at you so hard that for a moment you think I’m genuinely furious. But I simply lift myself slightly so you can easily whip my little tank top off and cast it aside – for good.
You smile at the sight of me lying there in my black push up bra. My long brown hair, previously straight, is already a mess. My cheeks are flushed. I am breathing hard.
“Arms back up,” you say.
I feel so vulnerable, with so much of my upper body exposed but I follow your instructions. I close my eyes.
“Fuck” you whisper under your breath at the sight of me completely submitting to you.
It’s your first sign of any weakness, and I can’t help but smirk.
“Is something wrong? Haven’t lost your bottle, have you?” I ask cheekily.
You repay my cheek by returning to the same sensitive spot and poking your fingers back in, exploring from underneath my boobs down to my middle ribs. I momentarily giggle and thrash with my arms up before completely capitulating.
“That’s too much…” I gasp.
“I know,” is all you say before jumping off me and ripping my shorts off with a ferocity that makes me jump.
All that pent up sexual tension is driving you insane. And now you have the sight of me lying on the bed in nothing but my black push-up bra and panties. You quickly strip yourself of all clothes but your underwear, your massive erection contained by a thin layer of fabric.
You are back on-top of me within seconds, but this time you straddle me on my upper thighs. My arms are already back up over my head.
“I think you ARE enjoying this,” you opine.
I shake my head, refusing to validate your teasing.
You trace a finger from my belly button down my abdomen and over my black panties. I gasp as your finger glides over my clit and stops only when you reach the wetness penetrating through the fabric.
“Well, since you’re not enjoying this, I might just stop. Do you want me to stop?”
I try to speak but can’t form any intelligible words. You repeat tracing the line down over my abdomen and panties. I moan and my answer is clear. No words are needed.
You position your fingers on my hips. I finally find my voice.
“Go for broke,” I say, “I’m not ticklish there.”
And I’m not – at first. Your initial poking gets little reaction until you find a spot just above my hip bone that makes me squirm and giggle. Then your fingers snake back up to my lower ribs and you REALLY attack them. You want the bra GONE. I automatically scream and sit up, literally fighting you off in hysterics.
You give me a moment to calm down before announcing, “Bra please.”
You see me hesitate and suggest I lie down on my front to be more comfortable. I know this will likely do nothing for my comfort, but I take you up on the offer and twist around. I remove my bra and quickly flop down flat with my arms folded under my forehead, as if I’m expecting a relaxing massage.
You have a full view of the sensitive spots beside my boobs, and now have inhibited access to the backs of my legs. You smile wickedly.
You straddle my calves looking towards my feet. My upper body jerks up in surprise.
“Keep your arms up,” you say. “I can see you in the mirror.”
“Ok that is NOT fair” I protest before I am overwhelmed with giggles as your fingers invade my arches.
You lean forward, pinning my calves tight. You bite my left arch, and then the right one. You alternate repeatedly, returning to those spots where you get the best reaction. All the while your eyes are on my reflection.
My arms stay up, but I’m bashing the pillow furiously. I am screaming and begging for you to stop. I buck my body to try and throw you off, but it’s futile. You are loving my responses and keep this up for god knows how long.
Eventually, I give up trying to fight and bury my face in the pillow and bite it as hard as I can, my screams now muffled. You even think you hear some moans, but you can’t be sure.
Eventually, reluctantly, you end the torture and spin around.
“I fucking hate you,” I say as I catch my breath.
“Now that’s not nice,” you say as your fingertips start to tickle the backs of my knees.
My response isn’t as violent as my arches, but I giggle and squirm. Any apprehension I felt about my body is now forgotten and you are getting a good view of my breasts as I try to twist myself around to impede your assault.
Your fingers then creep up the back of my thighs, causing me to shriek as you get higher and higher. When you reach that spot just below my arse, I lose it completely and actually manage to buck you off and onto the floor.
We both sit still for a minute, catching our breath. You on the floor, me on the bed. We both know what’s coming next and savour the moment.
You look at me. Silently, I stand up, facing you. I can feel your eyes on me. I throw my head back, running my hands through my long brown hair, drinking it in. For once, I feel like I have the power. But I’m about to give it back to you.
I lock your eyes with mine and hook my thumbs into my panties. Slowly, deliberately, I push them down over my legs and kick them away. I’m no longer trying to hide any part of my body and am letting you see every inch of me. You then watch me return to the bed and lie on my back, waiting expectantly. I’m completely yours.
You slowly get up and take off your underwear. Your erection springs out. I tell you I want it deep in my mouth, with my tongue teasing and twirling.
“Does that sound nice?” I ask.
You ignore me.
You are prepared for this moment, and quietly pull the restraints out from under the bed. We say nothing as you go about locking in each limb – tightly.
I look at the clock – we have been going for almost two hours already.
I shiver. My nipples are just as erect as you are. I want this so bad. And so do you.
To be continued…
