Calling my wife X for privacy.
We finally did it. And can’t wait to do it again.
So, last Saturday night, April 5, 2025, I pulled off this insane fantasy with my wife, X. She’s 23, 5 feet even, with this tight, curvy little body that’s been killing me since we tied the knot four years ago. X has these full C-cup tits, perky and perfect, with dark, dusky nipples that get stiff at the lightest touch, a tiny waist that flares out into hips I can’t stop grabbing, and these smooth, toned legs that look unreal on her petite frame. Her skin’s this creamy olive shade, and her dark hair falls just past her shoulders, framing those big hazel eyes that spark when she’s turned on. Me? I’m 26, 6’1”, lean and ripped from the gym, with a scruffy beard and a grin she swears gets her wet every time.
We got married young—her at 19, me at 22—and we’ve been figuring out how to keep the fire burning ever since. X has this thing for tickling; it drives her fucking wild, this mix of laughter and desperation that gets us both going. For weeks, we’d been tossing around this fantasy where she’d get tickled out of her mind by a couple of her guy friends while I watched, and it had us both buzzing. She’d get all shy and red-faced talking about it, but I knew she was hooked. Last week, she finally said, “Fuck it, let’s do it. But we need rules.” So we set it up: I’d bring in Matt and Ryan, two of her college buds, both mid-20s and chill as hell. She was cool with them tickling her senseless, making her beg to get stripped, and halfway through, they’d strip her naked. Then, toward the end, she’d let me untie her just enough so I could tickle her clit while they kept torturing her, pushing her to cum hard. She was all in, and I was already throbbing just thinking it through.
Saturday night hits, and we’re at our place—a cozy little house with a big living room that’s perfect for this. X is in this tight white tank top, no bra, so her dark nipples are poking through the fabric like they’re daring someone to touch them, and these tiny black shorts that barely cover her round, juicy ass. She’s barefoot, her toes painted red, wiggling nervously as she sits on the couch. Matt and Ryan show up, both grinning like they’ve hit the jackpot. Matt’s got this surfer look—tall, tan, broad shoulders, messy blond hair—while Ryan’s shorter, stockier, with dark eyes and a smirk that screams trouble. I’d filled them in earlier, and they were down, no hesitation.
“Alright, babe,” I say, winking at X. “You ready?” She bites her lip, nods, and I can see her chest rising faster already. We’d set up a big padded ottoman in the middle of the room, and I get her to lie down on her back. I tie her wrists above her head to the ottoman legs with soft ropes, then spread her ankles and secure them to the other end, leaving her stretched out and helpless. At 5 feet, she looks so fucking cute like this—her tank top rides up a bit, showing her flat stomach, and those shorts sit low, teasing the curve of her hips. Her tits strain against the fabric, dark nipples obvious, and she’s already squirming a little.
Matt and Ryan kneel on either side of her, and I drop into an armchair a few feet away, perfect spot to watch. “Go easy on me,” X says, half-laughing, but her voice is shaky with excitement. Matt smirks, “No chance,” and Ryan just winks. They start slow—Matt drags his fingers along her sides, right under her ribs, while Ryan goes for her feet, tracing her tiny soles with his nails. X squeals instantly, her little body jerking against the ropes. “Oh fuck, nooo!” she laughs, her head tossing, hair sticking to her flushed face. Her tits bounce under the tank top as she twists, those dark nipples hard as hell, and I’m gripping the chair, loving it.
They crank it up—Matt digs into her ribs, his fingers dancing over that spot just below her tits, while Ryan’s tickling her arches and between her toes. X is losing it, her laughter high and wild, her petite frame arching off the ottoman. “Stop, please!” she gasps, but she’s grinning, and we all know she’s into it. They hit her armpits next, both at once, and she screams, her arms straining, tiny muscles flexing in her shoulders. Her tank top’s bunched up now, showing the bottoms of her tits, and her shorts are slipping, teasing the edge of her panties.
“Beg us,” Matt says, his voice rough, fingers circling her belly button. X shakes her head, laughing too hard to speak, but Ryan starts on her inner thighs, and she breaks. “Okay, okay! Please, strip me!” she begs, her voice ragged. Matt grabs her tank top and yanks it up, ripping it a bit as he pulls it over her head, leaving it tangled around her wrists. Her tits spill out—full, round, with those dark nipples standing stiff in the air. Ryan hooks her shorts and panties, sliding them down her legs in one smooth move, and boom, she’s naked—her pussy bare and glistening, legs spread just enough to make it filthy.
They dive back in, no mercy. Matt’s all over her tits, tickling the soft skin around her nipples, then brushing the dark tips, making her shriek and buck. Ryan’s got her thighs, digging into that crease where her legs meet her hips, and she’s thrashing so hard the ottoman groans. They tickle her everywhere—her ribs, her stomach, her armpits, her feet, her knees, the backs of her thighs. Matt pinches her nipples lightly, tickling them with quick flicks, and X is a wreck, laughing, moaning, begging. Her skin’s flushed pink, a thin sweat sheen making her glow, and I can see her pussy dripping, her clit swollen and begging.
I’m rock hard, barely holding it together, but I wait like we planned. They keep it up, tickling every inch of her naked body until she’s gasping, tears of laughter streaming down her face. Finally, X looks at me, her voice raw. “Babe, come here,” she pants. I’m up fast, untying her wrists just enough so she’s still pinned but I can get in close. Matt and Ryan don’t let up—they’re still tickling her ribs, her feet, her nipples, keeping her on the edge.
I kneel between her legs, my fingers finding her clit, slick and throbbing. I start tickling it lightly, grazing it with my nails, and X screams, her hips bucking up. “Oh God, fuck!” she cries, caught between laughing and moaning. Matt’s teasing her nipples, flicking those dark buds, while Ryan’s working her soles, and I’m circling her clit, faster, harder, until her whole body locks up. Her laughter turns to gasps, her eyes meet mine, and I feel her explode—her pussy clenching, her tiny frame shaking as she cums, ropes still holding her tight. It’s fucking unreal—her naked, helpless, laughing, and cumming all at once.
We ease off after, untying her and wrapping her in a blanket. She’s still giggling, curled up against me on the couch, while Matt and Ryan grab beers and play it cool. X whispers later, “We’re doing that again,” and I’m already plotting round two.
We finally did it. And can’t wait to do it again.
So, last Saturday night, April 5, 2025, I pulled off this insane fantasy with my wife, X. She’s 23, 5 feet even, with this tight, curvy little body that’s been killing me since we tied the knot four years ago. X has these full C-cup tits, perky and perfect, with dark, dusky nipples that get stiff at the lightest touch, a tiny waist that flares out into hips I can’t stop grabbing, and these smooth, toned legs that look unreal on her petite frame. Her skin’s this creamy olive shade, and her dark hair falls just past her shoulders, framing those big hazel eyes that spark when she’s turned on. Me? I’m 26, 6’1”, lean and ripped from the gym, with a scruffy beard and a grin she swears gets her wet every time.
We got married young—her at 19, me at 22—and we’ve been figuring out how to keep the fire burning ever since. X has this thing for tickling; it drives her fucking wild, this mix of laughter and desperation that gets us both going. For weeks, we’d been tossing around this fantasy where she’d get tickled out of her mind by a couple of her guy friends while I watched, and it had us both buzzing. She’d get all shy and red-faced talking about it, but I knew she was hooked. Last week, she finally said, “Fuck it, let’s do it. But we need rules.” So we set it up: I’d bring in Matt and Ryan, two of her college buds, both mid-20s and chill as hell. She was cool with them tickling her senseless, making her beg to get stripped, and halfway through, they’d strip her naked. Then, toward the end, she’d let me untie her just enough so I could tickle her clit while they kept torturing her, pushing her to cum hard. She was all in, and I was already throbbing just thinking it through.
Saturday night hits, and we’re at our place—a cozy little house with a big living room that’s perfect for this. X is in this tight white tank top, no bra, so her dark nipples are poking through the fabric like they’re daring someone to touch them, and these tiny black shorts that barely cover her round, juicy ass. She’s barefoot, her toes painted red, wiggling nervously as she sits on the couch. Matt and Ryan show up, both grinning like they’ve hit the jackpot. Matt’s got this surfer look—tall, tan, broad shoulders, messy blond hair—while Ryan’s shorter, stockier, with dark eyes and a smirk that screams trouble. I’d filled them in earlier, and they were down, no hesitation.
“Alright, babe,” I say, winking at X. “You ready?” She bites her lip, nods, and I can see her chest rising faster already. We’d set up a big padded ottoman in the middle of the room, and I get her to lie down on her back. I tie her wrists above her head to the ottoman legs with soft ropes, then spread her ankles and secure them to the other end, leaving her stretched out and helpless. At 5 feet, she looks so fucking cute like this—her tank top rides up a bit, showing her flat stomach, and those shorts sit low, teasing the curve of her hips. Her tits strain against the fabric, dark nipples obvious, and she’s already squirming a little.
Matt and Ryan kneel on either side of her, and I drop into an armchair a few feet away, perfect spot to watch. “Go easy on me,” X says, half-laughing, but her voice is shaky with excitement. Matt smirks, “No chance,” and Ryan just winks. They start slow—Matt drags his fingers along her sides, right under her ribs, while Ryan goes for her feet, tracing her tiny soles with his nails. X squeals instantly, her little body jerking against the ropes. “Oh fuck, nooo!” she laughs, her head tossing, hair sticking to her flushed face. Her tits bounce under the tank top as she twists, those dark nipples hard as hell, and I’m gripping the chair, loving it.
They crank it up—Matt digs into her ribs, his fingers dancing over that spot just below her tits, while Ryan’s tickling her arches and between her toes. X is losing it, her laughter high and wild, her petite frame arching off the ottoman. “Stop, please!” she gasps, but she’s grinning, and we all know she’s into it. They hit her armpits next, both at once, and she screams, her arms straining, tiny muscles flexing in her shoulders. Her tank top’s bunched up now, showing the bottoms of her tits, and her shorts are slipping, teasing the edge of her panties.
“Beg us,” Matt says, his voice rough, fingers circling her belly button. X shakes her head, laughing too hard to speak, but Ryan starts on her inner thighs, and she breaks. “Okay, okay! Please, strip me!” she begs, her voice ragged. Matt grabs her tank top and yanks it up, ripping it a bit as he pulls it over her head, leaving it tangled around her wrists. Her tits spill out—full, round, with those dark nipples standing stiff in the air. Ryan hooks her shorts and panties, sliding them down her legs in one smooth move, and boom, she’s naked—her pussy bare and glistening, legs spread just enough to make it filthy.
They dive back in, no mercy. Matt’s all over her tits, tickling the soft skin around her nipples, then brushing the dark tips, making her shriek and buck. Ryan’s got her thighs, digging into that crease where her legs meet her hips, and she’s thrashing so hard the ottoman groans. They tickle her everywhere—her ribs, her stomach, her armpits, her feet, her knees, the backs of her thighs. Matt pinches her nipples lightly, tickling them with quick flicks, and X is a wreck, laughing, moaning, begging. Her skin’s flushed pink, a thin sweat sheen making her glow, and I can see her pussy dripping, her clit swollen and begging.
I’m rock hard, barely holding it together, but I wait like we planned. They keep it up, tickling every inch of her naked body until she’s gasping, tears of laughter streaming down her face. Finally, X looks at me, her voice raw. “Babe, come here,” she pants. I’m up fast, untying her wrists just enough so she’s still pinned but I can get in close. Matt and Ryan don’t let up—they’re still tickling her ribs, her feet, her nipples, keeping her on the edge.
I kneel between her legs, my fingers finding her clit, slick and throbbing. I start tickling it lightly, grazing it with my nails, and X screams, her hips bucking up. “Oh God, fuck!” she cries, caught between laughing and moaning. Matt’s teasing her nipples, flicking those dark buds, while Ryan’s working her soles, and I’m circling her clit, faster, harder, until her whole body locks up. Her laughter turns to gasps, her eyes meet mine, and I feel her explode—her pussy clenching, her tiny frame shaking as she cums, ropes still holding her tight. It’s fucking unreal—her naked, helpless, laughing, and cumming all at once.
We ease off after, untying her and wrapping her in a blanket. She’s still giggling, curled up against me on the couch, while Matt and Ryan grab beers and play it cool. X whispers later, “We’re doing that again,” and I’m already plotting round two.
