ticklishscribe
3rd Level Violet Feather
- Joined
- Apr 27, 2002
- Messages
- 7,698
- Points
- 38
I Said Later...
Inspired by Ticklishcutie38,
Written by Ticklishscribe.
c. 2003, 2006.
Laurie was pure virgin, from the top of her head to the tips of her tantalizing toes. She was in his mind the most absolutely adorable girl he had ever seen and was now seeing laying on her back on her bed. Her entire four-foot, eight-inch body didn’t even have a hint of a sharp outline or feature, her skin was alabaster and silky soft and the mused expression on her face was one totally contented but giggling Mona Lisa. She may have been 38 years old, but she didn’t look more than sixteen and he delighted in her virgin looks.
This was Gordon’s second opportunity to tickle her and he was relishing it. His first one hade been two hours long and he had enjoyed every second of her screaming laughter and intense writhing.
She lay on the bed with all the virgin innocence in the world and her ocean blue eyes washed over him, enchanting him with a sensual iridescence. He pushed her brown hair out of her eyes and kissed her.
She was wearing a thin sleeveless t-shirt and judging by her perky breasts beneath it, he could clearly see that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He watched her virgin tummy move slightly as she breathed and while her breath was a little short and he could tell that while she was comfortable with the present situation, he could see she was still a little tense.
Peaking out from the waistband of her jeans was a hint of panties, and his imagination was running wild as to what was underneath them.
His hand ran softly down the thin cotton sock on her left foot, which didn’t even cover her ankle and. she squirmed as he did this. He smiled and tossed her other cowboy boot away, then watched her movements with fascination and delight. She was an angel about to be in bondage and he could hear her breathing getting a little heavier.
He took hold of her left ankle and stretched her leg to the corner of the bed. She squirmed again, giggled and pulled it back. He took hold of it once more, firmly holding it and reached for one of the bathrobe belts he was using as restraints. Taking a looped and knotted strip he put her ankle in the loop and tightened it. Then taking the untied end he secured it to the bottom left bedpost.
The Mona Lisa expression on her face disappeared as she tried to pull her leg back. She tugged and writhed at the bedpost, but the belt held fast and as hard as she tried she couldn’t break free.
He smiled and calmly reached for another belt and then reached for her right ankle as well. As he tied it off to the other post she found that she couldn’t close her legs. A part of her was relaxed about this, as she wanted him to take her. But another part of her was unsure of this, as she knew that he could and she couldn’t do much to stop him from getting carried away, even though she knew he wouldn’t.
Sitting beside her, he stroked her blond hair out of her eyes once more, leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. He whispered in her ear that he wouldn’t hurt her and that she knew the words to use to allow her a rest or for him to stop altogether.
“You know how I like it.” She replied, the Mona Lisa smile returning to her lips.
Straddling her he took her left arm and placed it above her head then reached for another belt. He tied her left arm to the bed rail post and stared briefly at the armpit he had just uncovered. Now taking her right arm he did the same and then stared briefly at both or her now bare and wide-open armpits.
She squirmed under him and he giggled evilly.
His hand lazily grazed her right forearm and then lazily grazed her right armpit. Her reaction was immediate and visible as she jerked and writhed, followed by a barely audible yelp. Her breath quickened and became short and he could feel her trying to squirm away from him. He giggled softly at the thought that she was going nowhere and again grazed his hand in her armpit. Another jerk, more squirming and another yelp, only this time more audible.
“Sensitive in the armpits are we?” His fingers wriggled about in the smooth hollows and she writhed intensely now. He could hear the soft yelps now, coming one after another, and he knew that she was cracking into laughter and would break at any moment. He dug his fingers in and went for broke.
“FUCKSHITAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Laurie then screamed with laughter, and now writhed under him with all the strength she could muster. She felt his right hand enter her left armpit and really let loose.
“Whoa ho ho, I love this!” He smiled and continued the armpit assault “Such tender ticklish pits deserve this for a few more minutes!”
Laurie tried desperately to bring her arms down but the towel strips held them fast and left her armpits totally at his mercy. And mercy wasn’t a quality he was showing right now. This tickling or her pits was complete and utter torture as the tickling sensations shot through her like wildfire. Her senses were reeling and her brain had been thrown off its axis and was now way out of orbit. She was on the verge of loosing it when he suddenly stopped.
“A little break for you my little ball of laughter. Some time to calm yourself and get ready for my next tickle.”
She felt and could see his fingers resting on her nipples, looking like two spiders ready to pounce on their unsuspecting prey. Instantly she knew where he would tickle next and immediately began to squirm. Her breath quickened again and her chest rose and fell like the tide.
“Ahh such vibrant laughter I’m getting from you; it’s so addictive and just makes me want to tickle you more.”
He began to wriggle his fingers and her breath quickened and she squirmed once more. The Mona Lisa smile was there again and he could tell that it was cracking once more into more of a grin. As her chest rose and fell her breasts moved accordingly and they jiggled a bit as she continued to squirm. Her eyes went from focusing on him to her now breasts then back to him again. She jerked as he placed his fingertips on both her areolas. The fingers now danced on her erect nipples and areolas and she instantly spasmed and bucked. Her eyes were clenched shut tight and her head and body violently snapped from side to side and repeatedly slammed into the mattress. The laughter suddenly flowed like a river and he knew he’d hit another tender ticklish spot. He continued spidering her there, following her bouncing breasts wherever they went and he now began to tickle the base of the breasts as well. She was one writhing jerking and bucking little wildcat with hair flying all over the place and delicious screaming to guttural laughter. And he was thoroughly enjoying the ride she was giving him.
“Your struggling and writhing is also addictive sweetheart; please don’t stop!”
She was straining at the bonds as hard as she could, trying to break free. He could hear the creaking of the bedposts and the robe belts themselves and he smiled down at her then stopped. Her struggles and writhing began to subside and she looked up at him and went to speak.
“Later.” Was his reply to the question he knew she was going to ask. “Later.”
He ran his fingers lightly down her sides and she giggled immediately and squirmed again. Pressing gently on her top ribs he delighted in her jerking and another yelp. His spider fingers now poised themselves for another attack and he dug in with relish. The piano and accordion he was playing were making notes that were music to his ears. She was a symphony of ticklish laughter and he was playing the full orchestra. Up and down, fast and furious his fingers went, giving the poor girl all he could. Then like before, he suddenly stopped.
“Tummy time.” He whispered. His fingers connected and she instantly went wild under him; bucking and writhing; laughter ringing out like cathedral church bells.
He leaned forward and blew two raspberries in her button, causing even more intense writhing and further gales of laughter. His fingers ballet danced all over her taught tummy and from time to time he would pirouette a finger in her button and piston it in and out. He watched with delight as her tummy rose with laughter and then shrank when he tickled it.
Smiling evilly now, he got off her and went to the foot of the bed.
“Let’s see these virgin feet shall we.”
“Nooooooo Gordon, no you don’t want to tickle my feet, no not the feet!”
He sat at the foot of the bed facing her and took hold of her left foot. She tried to wriggle it out of his grasp, but the belt held her ankle firm and he held her foot firm too. Her foot was a sight to behold, and under her sock was a small-sized soft looking, slightly wide rounded foot with not a hard edge anywhere to be seen. He could see the outline of rounded slightly plump toes, a delicate arch and as the sock was tight on her foot he could imagine nothing but smooth satiny skin. She wriggled her foot and her toes scrunched and curled, trying to stay away from his grip and more importantly his tickling fingers. Each foot was now doing a frenzied dance and he delighted in watching their frantic spasming movement. Her entire body began to spasm now and he delighted in the fact that her feet were too ticklish to believe.
“I must thank your feet for so desperately trying to tell me how ticklish they are.” With that he slithered a single up each of her sock covered soles and the wildcat was let loose again. An explosion of laughter rocked the room and once more the bed began rocking with her intense writhing. He then bent the toes of her left foot back and spider tickled the tender sole. Again an explosion of laughter rocked the room and her writhing increased.
Her entire body was a blur as she flailed around as much as the bonds would let her, trying desperately to seek some sort of refuge from the tickling. She was in complete ticklish abandon and her laughter was everything he could have hoped for and more. She was a little ball of ticklish laughter and he was in seventh heaven.
He stopped tickling and smiled at her. She lifted her head and while there was a tickled silly grin on her face, her body still squirmed with nervousness. He smiled again and inserted a single finger inside the heel portion of her sock.
NO NO NO NO NO, PLEASE, PLEASE PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY SOCK OFF!”
As he pulled the heel portion back, her left foot writhed and her toes scrunched in a desperate attempt to keep the sock on. He tugged the sock and millimetre-by-millimetre, slowly peeling it away from one scrunching toe after another. One quick tug forced the baby toe to give up the last shred of sock it was oh so desperately clinging on to and he held the sock aloft as if to be holding a trophy. Looking at her now bare foot, he could see that he was right in that it was the perfect virgin foot. The sole of her rounded foot was as smooth as he had imagined it to be and he wanted to rake, rev and run ten fingers lush and rampant over it right now. Holding back his urges he bent her toes back, getting a firm grip on the foot again. He then single finger stroked the sole from heel to toes and another explosion of laughter erupted, followed by intense writhing.
Her foot tried to flail about as he meandered a single finger over the arch and then short stroked the centre of it. Her soft sole was allowing his finger to skate over the silky surface and with each stroke more intense writhing followed another yelp and this was followed by gales of laughter. She was really off the scale and he was delighting in every movement and laugh that she could put forth. He short stroked the instep then wriggled his finger all over causing even more laughter to erupt. Tickling the soft pad under her toes he discovered another hotspot and stroked it for all it was worth.
Her head and body continued to slam into the mattress, her eyes continued to clench tightly shut and her laughter continued to flow like a raging river. She was in complete ticklish agony and he loved every minute of it. He found each one of her tickle spots an island unto itself and he delighted in going island hopping. He wriggled a finger in the centre of her arch once more and she screamed primeval from deep within her. He delighted in this and tickled some more then stopped.
She sucked in as much air as she could get and looked at him once more. Her eyes met his and they held him captive for a brief moment.
“I know you want me to take you, but I also know that you’re enjoying this as well.”
She smiled and nodded weakly.
He reached forward and tickled the sock foot and it shot from his grasp. Taking a firm hold again he tickled under the toes and her reaction was instant. Her eyes clenched tightly shut once more and she again tried everything to hold in the laughter. What he could hear coming from inside her was a series of guttural grunts and he knew she was cracking. He kept spider tickling under the toes, rubbing and stroking from side to side and her foot went insane. Giving her another break, he watched as her struggles and laughter subsided and as once more she gathered as much air as she could take in. She felt a finger slide inside the heel portion of her sock and she begged him not to take it off. Her begging increased as he slowly peeled the sock over her heel and up the sole.
“It’s feather time sweetheart.” And with that he reached for a feather lying on the bedside table. As he brought it to her foot he casually brushed the tips of her toes and her foot spasmed and writhed all over. He began short stroking the quill in the centre of her arch and her dam burst, first with an “OHSHEEEIT! ” Followed by volatile laughter cascading from inside her. He knew he had hit a hotspot and had found the perfect tickling tool to hit it with. To him her laughter was orgasmic and with him getting off on this audio orgasm he was receiving, sex was the last thing on his mind right now. Every note of her exquisitely insane laughter was volcanically warming his heart, and he was soaking it all up like a sponge. He was also in love with her struggles, watching her try everything she could do to free herself and avoid his relentless sadistic and torturous tickling fingers.
He danced the feather in her arch and under her toes, lazily stroking the soft pad beneath them. To her the feather was pure hell and he delighted in effortlessly following her every movement to desperately escape the torturously tickling tendrils. Each tendril is seemed was tickling on its own accord and she writhed and gutturally screamed with every stroke. And each stroke seemed to get longer and longer.
He stopped and gave her another rest, watching her feet still writhe even though the feather had ceased it’s tickling. Her chest heaved up and down and her back still arched a bit, her head now lolling from side to side.
He smiled at her and sat by her waist. “You want me to take you now?”
“Yes yes oh my god yessss! Please.”
He picked up the feather again and danced it around her tender and still erect nipples. Immediately she arched her back again and burst into guttural laughter, followed by low moaning. She begged him to physically mount her and take her, but he continued to tickle the nipples. As he did this with one hand his other hand grazed her fleece covered womanhood then began stroking in earnest. She was now shivering and shaking jelly, her body writhing constantly once more and even the bed was now beginning to vibrate.
“OHMYGODNANANANAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
My feather will take you for now, as for me that will come later.
She screamed gutturally and begged over and over again him to take her. She begged him to stop this torture from sensual hell, promising him anything if he would just take her. He smiled and once more told her no, torturing her with the words that he would take her later. She begged for relief, begged as his fingers continuously, sensually tortured and tormented her womanhood. Her fleece pants accentuated the stroking and she wished to god she had worn jeans. What really drove her mad was the lack of rhythm and methodical stroking to his sensual tickling. It was never the same stroke twice, never the same feeling and slowly, very slowly he was wearing her down. He was taking her his way not hers.
She wanted him to take her so badly as she was getting so hot and had an urgency that was ready to explode. She had never been tickled down there before and it was slowly taking its toll on her sensual senses. She exploded with laughter from the tickling, but also moaned because of her aching womanhood and his denial to satisfy her burning urgency. She was shaking shivering bucking writhing moaning and laughing all at the same time, as her senses were being divided and conquered.
“TAKE ME PLEASE GODDAMMIT! I NEED YOU NOW!”
He smiled at her pleadings and stopped tickling. Sitting beside he, he stroked the hair out of her eyes and kissed her again. She lay there, her writhing and now giggling was subsiding and she looked at him with piteous eyes pleading for him to take her. But all she got in return was another smile. He held up a black cloth, smiled evilly and began to place it over her eyes.
“I said later…”
Inspired by Ticklishcutie38,
Written by Ticklishscribe.
c. 2003, 2006.
Laurie was pure virgin, from the top of her head to the tips of her tantalizing toes. She was in his mind the most absolutely adorable girl he had ever seen and was now seeing laying on her back on her bed. Her entire four-foot, eight-inch body didn’t even have a hint of a sharp outline or feature, her skin was alabaster and silky soft and the mused expression on her face was one totally contented but giggling Mona Lisa. She may have been 38 years old, but she didn’t look more than sixteen and he delighted in her virgin looks.
This was Gordon’s second opportunity to tickle her and he was relishing it. His first one hade been two hours long and he had enjoyed every second of her screaming laughter and intense writhing.
She lay on the bed with all the virgin innocence in the world and her ocean blue eyes washed over him, enchanting him with a sensual iridescence. He pushed her brown hair out of her eyes and kissed her.
She was wearing a thin sleeveless t-shirt and judging by her perky breasts beneath it, he could clearly see that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He watched her virgin tummy move slightly as she breathed and while her breath was a little short and he could tell that while she was comfortable with the present situation, he could see she was still a little tense.
Peaking out from the waistband of her jeans was a hint of panties, and his imagination was running wild as to what was underneath them.
His hand ran softly down the thin cotton sock on her left foot, which didn’t even cover her ankle and. she squirmed as he did this. He smiled and tossed her other cowboy boot away, then watched her movements with fascination and delight. She was an angel about to be in bondage and he could hear her breathing getting a little heavier.
He took hold of her left ankle and stretched her leg to the corner of the bed. She squirmed again, giggled and pulled it back. He took hold of it once more, firmly holding it and reached for one of the bathrobe belts he was using as restraints. Taking a looped and knotted strip he put her ankle in the loop and tightened it. Then taking the untied end he secured it to the bottom left bedpost.
The Mona Lisa expression on her face disappeared as she tried to pull her leg back. She tugged and writhed at the bedpost, but the belt held fast and as hard as she tried she couldn’t break free.
He smiled and calmly reached for another belt and then reached for her right ankle as well. As he tied it off to the other post she found that she couldn’t close her legs. A part of her was relaxed about this, as she wanted him to take her. But another part of her was unsure of this, as she knew that he could and she couldn’t do much to stop him from getting carried away, even though she knew he wouldn’t.
Sitting beside her, he stroked her blond hair out of her eyes once more, leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. He whispered in her ear that he wouldn’t hurt her and that she knew the words to use to allow her a rest or for him to stop altogether.
“You know how I like it.” She replied, the Mona Lisa smile returning to her lips.
Straddling her he took her left arm and placed it above her head then reached for another belt. He tied her left arm to the bed rail post and stared briefly at the armpit he had just uncovered. Now taking her right arm he did the same and then stared briefly at both or her now bare and wide-open armpits.
She squirmed under him and he giggled evilly.
His hand lazily grazed her right forearm and then lazily grazed her right armpit. Her reaction was immediate and visible as she jerked and writhed, followed by a barely audible yelp. Her breath quickened and became short and he could feel her trying to squirm away from him. He giggled softly at the thought that she was going nowhere and again grazed his hand in her armpit. Another jerk, more squirming and another yelp, only this time more audible.
“Sensitive in the armpits are we?” His fingers wriggled about in the smooth hollows and she writhed intensely now. He could hear the soft yelps now, coming one after another, and he knew that she was cracking into laughter and would break at any moment. He dug his fingers in and went for broke.
“FUCKSHITAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Laurie then screamed with laughter, and now writhed under him with all the strength she could muster. She felt his right hand enter her left armpit and really let loose.
“Whoa ho ho, I love this!” He smiled and continued the armpit assault “Such tender ticklish pits deserve this for a few more minutes!”
Laurie tried desperately to bring her arms down but the towel strips held them fast and left her armpits totally at his mercy. And mercy wasn’t a quality he was showing right now. This tickling or her pits was complete and utter torture as the tickling sensations shot through her like wildfire. Her senses were reeling and her brain had been thrown off its axis and was now way out of orbit. She was on the verge of loosing it when he suddenly stopped.
“A little break for you my little ball of laughter. Some time to calm yourself and get ready for my next tickle.”
She felt and could see his fingers resting on her nipples, looking like two spiders ready to pounce on their unsuspecting prey. Instantly she knew where he would tickle next and immediately began to squirm. Her breath quickened again and her chest rose and fell like the tide.
“Ahh such vibrant laughter I’m getting from you; it’s so addictive and just makes me want to tickle you more.”
He began to wriggle his fingers and her breath quickened and she squirmed once more. The Mona Lisa smile was there again and he could tell that it was cracking once more into more of a grin. As her chest rose and fell her breasts moved accordingly and they jiggled a bit as she continued to squirm. Her eyes went from focusing on him to her now breasts then back to him again. She jerked as he placed his fingertips on both her areolas. The fingers now danced on her erect nipples and areolas and she instantly spasmed and bucked. Her eyes were clenched shut tight and her head and body violently snapped from side to side and repeatedly slammed into the mattress. The laughter suddenly flowed like a river and he knew he’d hit another tender ticklish spot. He continued spidering her there, following her bouncing breasts wherever they went and he now began to tickle the base of the breasts as well. She was one writhing jerking and bucking little wildcat with hair flying all over the place and delicious screaming to guttural laughter. And he was thoroughly enjoying the ride she was giving him.
“Your struggling and writhing is also addictive sweetheart; please don’t stop!”
She was straining at the bonds as hard as she could, trying to break free. He could hear the creaking of the bedposts and the robe belts themselves and he smiled down at her then stopped. Her struggles and writhing began to subside and she looked up at him and went to speak.
“Later.” Was his reply to the question he knew she was going to ask. “Later.”
He ran his fingers lightly down her sides and she giggled immediately and squirmed again. Pressing gently on her top ribs he delighted in her jerking and another yelp. His spider fingers now poised themselves for another attack and he dug in with relish. The piano and accordion he was playing were making notes that were music to his ears. She was a symphony of ticklish laughter and he was playing the full orchestra. Up and down, fast and furious his fingers went, giving the poor girl all he could. Then like before, he suddenly stopped.
“Tummy time.” He whispered. His fingers connected and she instantly went wild under him; bucking and writhing; laughter ringing out like cathedral church bells.
He leaned forward and blew two raspberries in her button, causing even more intense writhing and further gales of laughter. His fingers ballet danced all over her taught tummy and from time to time he would pirouette a finger in her button and piston it in and out. He watched with delight as her tummy rose with laughter and then shrank when he tickled it.
Smiling evilly now, he got off her and went to the foot of the bed.
“Let’s see these virgin feet shall we.”
“Nooooooo Gordon, no you don’t want to tickle my feet, no not the feet!”
He sat at the foot of the bed facing her and took hold of her left foot. She tried to wriggle it out of his grasp, but the belt held her ankle firm and he held her foot firm too. Her foot was a sight to behold, and under her sock was a small-sized soft looking, slightly wide rounded foot with not a hard edge anywhere to be seen. He could see the outline of rounded slightly plump toes, a delicate arch and as the sock was tight on her foot he could imagine nothing but smooth satiny skin. She wriggled her foot and her toes scrunched and curled, trying to stay away from his grip and more importantly his tickling fingers. Each foot was now doing a frenzied dance and he delighted in watching their frantic spasming movement. Her entire body began to spasm now and he delighted in the fact that her feet were too ticklish to believe.
“I must thank your feet for so desperately trying to tell me how ticklish they are.” With that he slithered a single up each of her sock covered soles and the wildcat was let loose again. An explosion of laughter rocked the room and once more the bed began rocking with her intense writhing. He then bent the toes of her left foot back and spider tickled the tender sole. Again an explosion of laughter rocked the room and her writhing increased.
Her entire body was a blur as she flailed around as much as the bonds would let her, trying desperately to seek some sort of refuge from the tickling. She was in complete ticklish abandon and her laughter was everything he could have hoped for and more. She was a little ball of ticklish laughter and he was in seventh heaven.
He stopped tickling and smiled at her. She lifted her head and while there was a tickled silly grin on her face, her body still squirmed with nervousness. He smiled again and inserted a single finger inside the heel portion of her sock.
NO NO NO NO NO, PLEASE, PLEASE PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY SOCK OFF!”
As he pulled the heel portion back, her left foot writhed and her toes scrunched in a desperate attempt to keep the sock on. He tugged the sock and millimetre-by-millimetre, slowly peeling it away from one scrunching toe after another. One quick tug forced the baby toe to give up the last shred of sock it was oh so desperately clinging on to and he held the sock aloft as if to be holding a trophy. Looking at her now bare foot, he could see that he was right in that it was the perfect virgin foot. The sole of her rounded foot was as smooth as he had imagined it to be and he wanted to rake, rev and run ten fingers lush and rampant over it right now. Holding back his urges he bent her toes back, getting a firm grip on the foot again. He then single finger stroked the sole from heel to toes and another explosion of laughter erupted, followed by intense writhing.
Her foot tried to flail about as he meandered a single finger over the arch and then short stroked the centre of it. Her soft sole was allowing his finger to skate over the silky surface and with each stroke more intense writhing followed another yelp and this was followed by gales of laughter. She was really off the scale and he was delighting in every movement and laugh that she could put forth. He short stroked the instep then wriggled his finger all over causing even more laughter to erupt. Tickling the soft pad under her toes he discovered another hotspot and stroked it for all it was worth.
Her head and body continued to slam into the mattress, her eyes continued to clench tightly shut and her laughter continued to flow like a raging river. She was in complete ticklish agony and he loved every minute of it. He found each one of her tickle spots an island unto itself and he delighted in going island hopping. He wriggled a finger in the centre of her arch once more and she screamed primeval from deep within her. He delighted in this and tickled some more then stopped.
She sucked in as much air as she could get and looked at him once more. Her eyes met his and they held him captive for a brief moment.
“I know you want me to take you, but I also know that you’re enjoying this as well.”
She smiled and nodded weakly.
He reached forward and tickled the sock foot and it shot from his grasp. Taking a firm hold again he tickled under the toes and her reaction was instant. Her eyes clenched tightly shut once more and she again tried everything to hold in the laughter. What he could hear coming from inside her was a series of guttural grunts and he knew she was cracking. He kept spider tickling under the toes, rubbing and stroking from side to side and her foot went insane. Giving her another break, he watched as her struggles and laughter subsided and as once more she gathered as much air as she could take in. She felt a finger slide inside the heel portion of her sock and she begged him not to take it off. Her begging increased as he slowly peeled the sock over her heel and up the sole.
“It’s feather time sweetheart.” And with that he reached for a feather lying on the bedside table. As he brought it to her foot he casually brushed the tips of her toes and her foot spasmed and writhed all over. He began short stroking the quill in the centre of her arch and her dam burst, first with an “OHSHEEEIT! ” Followed by volatile laughter cascading from inside her. He knew he had hit a hotspot and had found the perfect tickling tool to hit it with. To him her laughter was orgasmic and with him getting off on this audio orgasm he was receiving, sex was the last thing on his mind right now. Every note of her exquisitely insane laughter was volcanically warming his heart, and he was soaking it all up like a sponge. He was also in love with her struggles, watching her try everything she could do to free herself and avoid his relentless sadistic and torturous tickling fingers.
He danced the feather in her arch and under her toes, lazily stroking the soft pad beneath them. To her the feather was pure hell and he delighted in effortlessly following her every movement to desperately escape the torturously tickling tendrils. Each tendril is seemed was tickling on its own accord and she writhed and gutturally screamed with every stroke. And each stroke seemed to get longer and longer.
He stopped and gave her another rest, watching her feet still writhe even though the feather had ceased it’s tickling. Her chest heaved up and down and her back still arched a bit, her head now lolling from side to side.
He smiled at her and sat by her waist. “You want me to take you now?”
“Yes yes oh my god yessss! Please.”
He picked up the feather again and danced it around her tender and still erect nipples. Immediately she arched her back again and burst into guttural laughter, followed by low moaning. She begged him to physically mount her and take her, but he continued to tickle the nipples. As he did this with one hand his other hand grazed her fleece covered womanhood then began stroking in earnest. She was now shivering and shaking jelly, her body writhing constantly once more and even the bed was now beginning to vibrate.
“OHMYGODNANANANAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
My feather will take you for now, as for me that will come later.
She screamed gutturally and begged over and over again him to take her. She begged him to stop this torture from sensual hell, promising him anything if he would just take her. He smiled and once more told her no, torturing her with the words that he would take her later. She begged for relief, begged as his fingers continuously, sensually tortured and tormented her womanhood. Her fleece pants accentuated the stroking and she wished to god she had worn jeans. What really drove her mad was the lack of rhythm and methodical stroking to his sensual tickling. It was never the same stroke twice, never the same feeling and slowly, very slowly he was wearing her down. He was taking her his way not hers.
She wanted him to take her so badly as she was getting so hot and had an urgency that was ready to explode. She had never been tickled down there before and it was slowly taking its toll on her sensual senses. She exploded with laughter from the tickling, but also moaned because of her aching womanhood and his denial to satisfy her burning urgency. She was shaking shivering bucking writhing moaning and laughing all at the same time, as her senses were being divided and conquered.
“TAKE ME PLEASE GODDAMMIT! I NEED YOU NOW!”
He smiled at her pleadings and stopped tickling. Sitting beside he, he stroked the hair out of her eyes and kissed her again. She lay there, her writhing and now giggling was subsiding and she looked at him with piteous eyes pleading for him to take her. But all she got in return was another smile. He held up a black cloth, smiled evilly and began to place it over her eyes.
“I said later…”
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