Volsung1
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Jul 18, 2008
- Messages
- 1,104
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This is not a story per-se so I thought I would post it here:
Tingling with anticipation, as though on a first date.
Mutually captivated, one by restraints the other by imagination.
Smooth exposed skin, needing to be touched and fondled.
Pinned and trapped, a prisoner of pleasure held captive.
Awaiting the punishment of overly sensitive nerve endings.
The tools of the trade, splayed out within easy reach.
Plumes of various shapes and sizes.
Brushes to be used in unfamiliar ways.
Used not to comb the hair nor clean the teeth,
But to excite the senses and probe the possibilities.
Fingers wiggle under the chin, closing the crevice of the neck.
A paradox because the invader cannot flee, so the tickling cannot end.
Giggles sputter as trapped fingers wiggle to set themselves free.
Skin made taught by tickling, alternating on each side of the collarbone.
With the withdraw of wiggling digits, the laughter ebbs.
A feather gently glides between separated breasts.
The tip traces a line where the protuberance begins.
Exploring the lovely folds, it brushes the rim of the areole.
Nipples are made hard by the teasing of the feather's kiss.
A sublime giggle of contentment confirms the titillation.
Smooth stomach muscles ripple at the lightest touch.
A shiver of pleasure races up your spine.
Wiggling fingers poke and jiggle muscle over ticklish ribs.
Fingers pressing, pinching, probing, playing you like the string of a violin.
Intoxicating laughter fulls the room and sexual thoughts arouses the ler.
Pampered feet and exfoliated soles flex at the first touch.
Each bristle of the hair brush scratches and excites.
The Fight or Flight response is overwhelming, as neither can be satisfied.
Never-ending hysterical laughter, pleasures both ler and lee.
Breathless laughter, metamorphoses into sexual excitement.
Tingling with anticipation, as though on a first date.
Mutually captivated, one by restraints the other by imagination.
Smooth exposed skin, needing to be touched and fondled.
Pinned and trapped, a prisoner of pleasure held captive.
Awaiting the punishment of overly sensitive nerve endings.
The tools of the trade, splayed out within easy reach.
Plumes of various shapes and sizes.
Brushes to be used in unfamiliar ways.
Used not to comb the hair nor clean the teeth,
But to excite the senses and probe the possibilities.
Fingers wiggle under the chin, closing the crevice of the neck.
A paradox because the invader cannot flee, so the tickling cannot end.
Giggles sputter as trapped fingers wiggle to set themselves free.
Skin made taught by tickling, alternating on each side of the collarbone.
With the withdraw of wiggling digits, the laughter ebbs.
A feather gently glides between separated breasts.
The tip traces a line where the protuberance begins.
Exploring the lovely folds, it brushes the rim of the areole.
Nipples are made hard by the teasing of the feather's kiss.
A sublime giggle of contentment confirms the titillation.
Smooth stomach muscles ripple at the lightest touch.
A shiver of pleasure races up your spine.
Wiggling fingers poke and jiggle muscle over ticklish ribs.
Fingers pressing, pinching, probing, playing you like the string of a violin.
Intoxicating laughter fulls the room and sexual thoughts arouses the ler.
Pampered feet and exfoliated soles flex at the first touch.
Each bristle of the hair brush scratches and excites.
The Fight or Flight response is overwhelming, as neither can be satisfied.
Never-ending hysterical laughter, pleasures both ler and lee.
Breathless laughter, metamorphoses into sexual excitement.
