Hi all.
I just found this somewhere in the chaos of my harddisk. It's not mine (again) - I think I downloaded it from an old yahoo-newsgroup quite a while ago... it had been part of a series called "I remember" (I think).
The author is the same guy as in the "Traci" parts and - I guess - in "Not There" which I've posted here earlyer.
Have fun and PEACE
tei
Kinky Threesome
I was over at Connie Miller/Roger’s house the other night playing bridge with my sister Cindy and the Rogers. Connie (who you may remember from previous stories) was giggling and eyeing me as we
played. She was up to something, and I knew enough to not ask her what it was. I watched Cindy bring home six notrump with a pseudo squeeze, when Steve, my partner, down to a pure guess, chose the wrong discard. At that point, the the reason for Connie’s mischievous grins rang the doorbell. Connie jumped up and answered it. It was Wendy B., Connie’s longtime girlfriend, who I hadn’t seen for at least 10 years. The two of them hugged, kissed affectionately on the lips (Cindy cringed at the kiss, but Cindy is very straight-arrow old-fashioned, and always will be—Steve and I thought nothing of it, for reasons you’ll soon know), and Connie brought Wendy into the living room. Wendy, who’s been married for over 20 years, then proceeded to hug me silly, kissed me on the lips many times, then made her way to Steve (who she saw many times a year, and hug him. She looked over to Connie, grinned, and proceeded to lay a kiss on Steve that would fry most thermometers. Even Steve was taken aback by it. Connie just giggled. Finally, Wendy made her way to Cindy, hugged her, and, knowing Cindy’s likes and dislikes, gave her a peck on the cheek. She then let out a little squeal, rushed back to me, and proceeded to hug and kiss me silly again, ending up cuddled up to me.
“Wendy, don’t be so shy,” I told her. Then to Connie: “We really do need to teach this gal how to be more open---she’s way too inhibited.” Then to Wendy: “How are things with you and Blake (her husband)?”
“Good, always good,” Wendy bubbled. Wendy had the perfect mate (for her) in Blake R. He knew how she was, knew she loved him above all other people, and let her pretty much do whatever she wanted, which was plenty, even by today’s standards. Wendy has always been one with a positive outlook on life, unafraid to do what she thought needed to do, say what was on her mind (except when tact dictated that it not be said), and generally enjoy life to the fullest. Wendy was about the same weight she’d been almost 30 years earlier, is still pretty, although age had made slight inroads, as it does for those of us who’ve reached our mid-40’s and beyond, and was still full of energy. She and Connie haven’t changed a lot since the lot of us romped as teenagers. Steve tells me that the two of them run around doing things much the same as they did when they were college. Leslie, Connie’s 14 year old daughter, said that the two of them ‘crashed’ one of Leslie’s basement slumber parties at about midnight (a group of adults were upstairs playing some board game) and proceeded to start a pillow fight with the six girls there,which eventually turned into a foot-tickling fight (with the six girls ganging up on Connie and Wendy, who are still mega ticklish), a wrestling match (Connie and Wendy won that one), and finally ended up with six exhausted teen girls under blankets on their way to dreamland---and the Fearsome Twosome trotting upstairs to see what other adventures they could get into with the adults.
“Tom,” Wendy cooed, after some catching-up chatter, “do you remember when you and Connie ganged up on me and raped me that one day in 1971?”
“It isn’t rape when you’re willing,” Connie informed her girlfriend.
“We didn’t exactly ‘rape’ you,” I corrected her. “Molested, yes...
tickled out of your mind, yes... brought to major orgasms, yes.. but
not exactly ‘raped’, although I do remember that little incident a
year later where Bill Hoyt brought over that fur mitten and we---“
Wendy bapped me. “You’ll clown at your own funeral,” she told me, giggling. We recalled the incident for Steve’s benefit, which the three of us remembered in greater detail than we described to Steve. Afterwards Connie informed Wendy that I had been posting some of my experiences from my younger days in this group, including the one where she got her panties wet from the Davis garden sprinkler (an earlier story) and we all had a good laugh over that, including Connie.
“Did you do an article on our little threesome that day?” Wendy asked me.
“Not yet,” I told her. In reality, I wouldn’t post such a thing without permission.
“Well you should!” she exclaimed. Connie nodded, and I shrugged, agreed to abbreviate Wendy’s last name back then (to protect privacy), and here I am now.
Connie Miller, who is a year younger than I am, is/was bisexual (or bi curious) long before such became fashionable among woman. It was something that she didn’t hide, and anybody who criticiczed or shunned her because of that.....well it was their loss, not hers. Anybody who made a major issue over it dealt with the 40-50 people in our neighborhood who did not have a problem with it and such people soon backed off. Connie was Connie, and she wasn’t/isn’t going to change her ways to suit any one person.
One of Connie’s ‘ways’ was being a prankster. She was full of mischief (and still is). Her best friend, Wendy B., who lived about three blocks away, shared her interest. Wendy was the same age as Connie, a year younger than me. She was very short, even for a girl, standing about 4-8 (about 142 cm), and weighing no more than 80 lbs (about 36.7 kilos for our non U.S readers). She had dark brunette, flyaway curly hair that barely reached her shoulders, a pretty, roundish face, small nose, and a smile that showcased dazzlingly white, cavity-free teeth. She was slender, fairly flat chested, seldom wore a bra, and really didn’t need one (but then Connie, who was better endowed, never wore a bra back then either, which was fun when she was wearing a loost t-shirt and bent over), and, in the baggy unisexual clothes of that day, could easilly pass for a guy from a distance (especially since guys back then wore their hair as long or longer than a lot of girls did).
I was home alone, as usual, one day in July of 1971 (my sisters were never around during the day in the summertime, Dad worked, of course, and Mom was always at some function or bridge game), trying to decide which of three shows I wanted to watch. There were only the three networks offered back then---cable was just getting started in 1971, and Dad didn’t get cable, mainly because one of the main owners was a dentist who he didn’t like (although he went to that dentist for his checkups and whatever else was needed). My choices were a quiz show (Password with Alan Ludden, I believe), a soap opera, and an old Gloria Jean movie (A Little Bit of Heaven) that I’d seen (and enjoyed) at least a half dozen times before.
I was deciding between watching the movie again or going down to the park to see what stage the baseball game was in, when the doorbell rang. I went to answer the door. As I opened it, a phone ring came from the family room. “Knock it off, Rocky,” I shouted at our Macaw. “Mom isn’t home.” Rocky, knowing my tone of voice, and knowing I meant it, stopped. Poor Mom, who was fooled at least two thousand times during her life. She would be out in the front or back yard when Rocky did his thing. She’d rush into the house as Rocky ‘rang’ rhythmically to match what the phone would do, grab the phone (Rocky learned to stop, of course, when he saw or heard her enter), answer it, listen to a dial tone, and glare at Rocky, who’d be sitting in the most inaccessible part of his cage, cackling. It’s a wonder that bird didn’t end up as the main course one night.
I opened the door the rest of the way. There stood Connie and Wendy, in shorts and Tshirts. “Butch,” Connie asked me, “Can we use the pool?”
I peered at Connie. She knew better than to need to ask me for permission to use our pool, which was one of those constructable aluminum/vinyl jobs that stood about three feet above ground. I wondered why she was bothering, since she knew she was always welcome to use it and bring whoever she liked. I shrugged. “Sure, go ahead,” I told her.
Connie squealed with delight, as though this was a rare privilege seldome granted. “Good! Okay, Wendy, go back to my house and change to your bikini.” With that, Connie began unfastening her shorts.
“And you’re so happy that you’re going to do a stripshow for me, right?” I asked.
Wendy giggled, turned, and headed back to the Miller house. Connie bapped me. “Silly, I have my bikini on already.” She proceeded to remove the shorts, tshirt, and sandals. She looked around. Wendy was at the street now, crossing it. Connie took my hand, led me inside, and closed the door. She was grinning that silly grin which meant that she was up to something (For the more observant of you who have read my Traci stories, my ficitional character Traci is based to some extent on Connie, personality wise). “I don’t really want to use the pool for a while,” she told me.
“Oh?” I looked at her quizzically. “Well, there’s a wonderful
Gloria Jean movie on channel 8. We can watch that, and I’ll even fix
some popcorn. Of course the soft drinks are extra....I mean I have to
make a profit somewhere......but I might throw in a hot dog for half
price, and if you behave, I’ll even---“
Connie bapped me, giggling. “No, silly, I’ve been waiting to get even with Wendy for almost a week, for her soaping my car.” I remembered that. Wendy did a good job of soaping the windows. It took Connie almost three hours to get all the soap off. “And when she comes back, in that skimpy lil bikini of hers, guess what WE’RE gonna do?”
My eyes lit up, but I feigned ignorance. “Stick bamboo shoots
under her fingernails? Sell her into a life of slavery? Stick pins
in—“
Connie giggled. “No, silly goose, you’re gonna help me tickle her GOOD!!!”
Never the one to waste an opportunity, I grabbed Connie and gently pushed her back onto an easy chair. “Oh, like this?” I asked her politely. I dug my fingers into the sides of Connie’s ribs and wiggled playfully.
Connie squealed and wiggled around, but didn’t try to get away. “EEEEEEEEEIK!!! HA HA HA HA HA HA....EEEEEEEEEEIK!... hee hee hee hee hee hee.....Butch!!.. tee hee hee hee.. tickles!!!!.... tee hee hee hee hee....” Connie usually loved being tickled, as long as she could squirm around. I lifted her arms over her head, pinning them at the wrists in one of mine, and scribbled in the hollows of each underarm. Connie screamed, as usual, and laughed hard. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ...!!!
NOOOOOOOOOO!!!... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!!!” I wandered around the
ribs, tummy, sides, and underarms, as Connie cackled, giggled, laughed, and wiggled around on the easy chair.
Connie finally tugged with her arms and said, between giggles, “Stop.. hee hee hee hee...seriously!... hee hee hee..” ‘Seriously’ was our safeword, and I stopped. She caught her breath and said, “You can tickle me to death some other time. I want to get things ready for Wendy. You stall her from getting into the pool till I’m done.” Without waiting for a reply, she took off upstairs for my room.
I was listening to Connie rummaging around upstairs. I had a good idea what she was up to. A few minutes later, Wendy knocked again. Rocky did his phone imitation, was told to knock it off, and stopped. I went to the door and let Wendy in. She was wearing a rather skimpy bikini. The top didn’t have much to hide and did its job well, but the bottom, one of the kind that ties at the sides, was either a size too loose or wasn’t tied well enough. In any event, it showed about as much as could be shown publically, although it wasn’t one of the G-string back types. I led her inside and told her to make herself comfortable while I cleaned the leaves and other debris out of the pool. But before I could go to do that, Connie came bounding downstairs. She was grinning her mischievous grin.
This wasn’t lost on Wendy, who was sitting in the easy chair Connie was tickled in a few minutes earlier. “Uh oh,” Wendy giggled nervously, “I’m in trouble, I think.” She sank back into the chair.
“Yuppers,” said Connie, pouncing on Wendy.
“Tee hee hee,” giggled Wendy as Connie wrestled with her. “It’s about time you got even with me for that car thingie.” So she’d suspected it all along.
“Yep,” said Connie. Then to me: “Butch, carry her upstairs.” I went over to the chair, scooped Wendy up, bridal style, and followed Connie upstairs with her. Wendy wiggled playfully in my arms, giggling and giggling. Whatever we had in store for her didn’t seem to phase her. How little I knew at the time what Connie had in mind...
Connie led me to my room, of course. On the bed, which was one of the four-bedpost-types with a sturdy bedframe, were two sock-ropes, made from some of Cindy’s knee-socks, one attached to each of the posts at the head of the bed. A kingsized bedsheet had been run under the bed and the ends of this were laying on each side about two thirds of the way toward the foot of the bed. Wendy saw all of this and squirmed a bit more. “No!!!!...” she protested... “No fair tying me up!!!”
“Oh yes, fair!” teased Connie. “We’re gonna tie you up GOOD so you can’t move an inch! I knew my part and laid Wendy down on the bed, pinning her arms back. Wendy squealed and giggled, putting up token resistance. Connie climbed onto the bed, took Wendy’s arm furthest from me, and tied it to the appropriate sockrope, while I tied the other arm to it’s rope. Connie then sat on Wendy’s far leg, pulled it apart, and tied it to the sheet end on that side. I didn’t help with this part. Wendy closed her free leg as best she could, but Connie wrestled with it, goaded me into helping, and the two of us managed to get the other leg tied in place. Connie then looped the loose sheet around Wendy’s near ankle over and over until her girlfriend’s legs were tied firmly in place. She then admired her work. Wendy was tied up helpless, arms spreadeagled back, and legs almost in a T---as far apart as they could be tied without hurting her, which was pretty far, as lithe and supple as Wendy was.
I was admiring Connie’s work, too, but in a different way. As noted, Wendy’s bikini was a little loose, and the legs being tied the way they were afforded an excellent view of quite a bit of girl. Connie caught me looking and smiled. “Okay, you,” she told me, “there’s no need to squint and strain to see anything.”
“I’m not squinting or straining,” I told her, matter-of-factly, “I can see everything fine just like this.”
Wendy, who I thought would be embarassed, just giggled. Connie said, “Well, you don’t have to strain at all,” she said. Connie seldom surprised me, as I was used to her wild antics, but she managed to do so then. “Cause this is coming off!”
Wendy eeped. “Hey, no fair!” she told Connie. “Not while I’m helpless!”
“Be happy she didn’t bring her camera,” I told Wendy. “She has
this huge photo album of naked pictures, most of them of her, and she
likes to get it out at Christmas and go to this retirement home on
Brody Street and give the people there---“
Connie bapped me again, giggling. “You BRAT!” she kidded me. With that, she surprised me again---even though she told me it was coming— by untying the top and bottom parts of Wendy’s bikini and whisking them off.
Wendy blushed briefly, and giggled nervously. She didn’t seem overly upset. I looked. Other than the fact that she was pretty flat-chested, as noted, and the fact that she had almost no pubic hair, everything looked normal. The lack of hair puzzled me though, since shaving there wasn’t a popular thing back then with females.
Connie read my mind, as usual. “Something wrong?” she giggled.
I shrugged. “Well, I was just curious about something,” I told her.
Connie giggled again. “Why no hair?” she asked me pointedly.
“Well.....uh....” I stammered, rare for me. “Erm... yes.”
Connie giggled. “Well, that never bothered you about ME,” she said, sitting on the bed, briefly pulling her bikini bottom down, and parting her legs to show that she hadn’t allowed any hair to accumulate either. I admired the view for the five seconds or so it was offered. “Get a close enough look?” she asked, mock-glaring.
“No, as a matter of fact, I was still analyzing a few things,” I
told her. “Would you mind letting me examnie it for another minute or
so? I have this theory---“
Connie put her hand over my mouth, laughing. “So I’m that way,” she told me. Why would it surprise you that Wendy is?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “But you like to.....” I thought a second. The word ‘bi’ wasn’t really around then, and there wasn’t a fashionable way to put it. I thought of the best way possible to handle it. “... like to be touched lightly there in certain ways.”
“Yeah,” laughed Connie, “by both boys and girls.” She snickered. “Well, why can’t Wendy like that too?” I looked over at Wendy, who smiled.
“Ahh, okay, I’m up to date now,” I said. So Wendy was Connie’s girlfriend in more ways than one. That was fine by me. I hadn’t ever done a threesome though, at least not where one of the girls was aggressive, as Connie was bound to be here.
“And it feels so much more intense when there’s no hair in the way,” Connie informed me. I could imagine that it did. “And anyhow, guess what, Butch?” I raised an eyebrow. “Wendy...” she paused for effect, “...is super mega ticklish....... everywhere!”
Wendy giggled nervously. “Oh, no, you two are gonna tickle me to death!”
“You got it,” Connie grinned. “And guess what else, Butch?” Not getting a reply, she continued, “When Wendy is tickled, she does your favorite thing..... she giggles helplessly.” Connie knew me well.
Wendy squirmed on the bed. “Aaaaaack, I’m gonna get tickled by you two,” she said in a soft voice. She smiled.
“Yep,” said Connie, “Till yer gigglin’ like a lil girl. We’re gonna GETCHA!” With that Connie climbed over Wendy, lay on the bed on the other side of her, and extended a fingertip. Connie didn’t have long nails, but the nails she had would be felt. Wendy giggled nervously. Connie placed the fingertip in Wendy’s exposed underarm, and drug it softly down her side, to the base of her hip, then back up again, over and over.
True to prediction, Wendy giggled madly. “Tee hee hee hee... oh Connie!... tee hee hee hee hee hee.. oh that tickles!!.. tee hee hee hee.. you meanie!!!... tee hee hee hee hee...” She pulled away slightly from Connie’s touch.
Connie motioned me to join in. I didn’t need a second invitation. I scribbled my fingers on the sides of her ribs. Wendy eeiked a little, then went back to giggling. “Tee hee hee hee... oh it tickles!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee heeee....”
I stopped suddenly. Connie and Wendy looked up at me. “Question,” I began. Connie nodded. “I know that it’s early yet, but I like to know before I get involved. “I know you sans clothes, but I still assume there are out of bounds areas...for me anyhow?”
Wendy shook her head. Girls never ceased to surprise me back then. “Not really,” she said. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll let you know.”
Connie made it clearer. “Sweetie, Wendy isn’t a naive lil girlie, or bashful, and I wouldn’t have put her in this position with you here if I didn’t know she was comfortable about it.” She grinned at me. “And I seriously doubt you can do anything to her that would be ‘too much’ for HER to handle.” She giggled and winked at Wendy. Wendy giggled, too. “Just go slowly,” Connie added. Wendy nodded.
“Well, I can certainly TRY to make it ‘too much’,” I replied, grinning evilly. Connie laughed, and Wendy giggled again, and wiggled around. “So, basically, almost nothing is out of bounds?” I asked, to be sure.
“Not really,” Wendy said again.
“Not touching wise, anyway,” Connie told me, looking me in the eye. I knew what she meant. “And possibly not otherwise, either, but that’s something we’ll see about.” She grinned. I knew that with Connie, ‘otherwise’ was a good possibility. Wendy I wasn’t sure of, not that it mattered. I would have trouble keep up with Connie in that department.
“Good,” I said, “because there’s something I love to do and never get a chance to much,” I said coversationally. With that, I got comfortable next to Wendy, rested the fingers of one hand on the underside of the breast nearest me, and lightly scribbled.
Wendy giggled madly. “Tee hee hee hee.. now quit that!...tee hee hee hee hee...” She squirmed around.
“Ohhhhh,” cooed Connie, “that’s one of her best tickle spots!” Connie got comfy on the other side and tickled Wendy’s other breast the same way, using her fingernails. “Don’t touch the nipples yet,” she grinned teasingly at Wendy.
I didn’t bother asking Connie how she knew that fact. The two of us just lay there on each side of Wendy, lightly running our fingertips around the soft flesh of her her smallish, sensitve breasts.
Wendy giggled and squirmed. “Tee hee hee hee hee... you two brats!!.. tee hee hee hee.. that tickles me TONS!... tee hee hee hee hee.. oh now stop it... tee hee hee hee hee.. It’s TOO tickly!.. tee hee hee hee hee heeeeeeee...” Wendy tugged with her arms, wiggled her bottom helplessly, and arched her back to try to move our fingers onto the nipples. She giggled and giggled, squirming more and more.
“Does Wendy want us to tickle a certain way?” Connie teased her girlfriend, carefully avoiding the nipples.
“Tee hee hee hehehehehehehehe... you two are mean!!!.. tee hee hee hee hehehehehehhehe... you know what I want Connie Miller!... teehee hee hee hee... you’re torturing me!.. tee hee hee hee hee hee hee....I can’t stand it!!.. tee hee hee hee hee....”
Connie placed her hand on mine to stop me. She drew it away, placed it back on Wendy’s breast and softly scribbled around the base of the nipple, motioning me to do the same.
Wendy giggled more madly. “Tee hee hee hee... that’s MEAN!!!..... tee hee hee hee hehehehehehehe.. you BRATS!... tee hee hee hee hee.. oh I’m gonna go nuts!... tee hee hee hee hehehehehehe” Wendy wiggled and wiggled, trying to get our fingers onto the main part of the nipples, but we carefully avoided it. She giggled crazilly, tossing her head from side to side.
Connie got up from the bed and went to my lower dresser, knowing what she was looking for. She found the feathers and the duster and brought them back and sat back down on Wendy’s far side. Wendy’s eyes widened when she saw the feathers. She made little noises and scrunched her nose.
Connie handed me a feather, then drug her feather over and over one of Wendy’s nipples.
Wendy started giggling again, more helpless than before. “Nooooooo... tee hee hee hee hee hehehehehehehehehe... you brats!!!.. tee hee hee hehehehehehehehe... that tickles lots TOO!... tee hee hee hee hee... oh you’re driving me crazy!!!.. tee hee hee.” I took the feather and danced it playfully over the other nipple. Wendy laughed and giggled and squirmed helplessly. Tears of laughter were streaming down her face. She was sweating pretty good.
Connie motioned for me to let Wendy rest. After a short pause, Connie went to work on Wendy’s tummy, scribbling and dragging her fingers gently. Wendy laughed and laughed, trying to suck in her tummy to get away from the tickling. I lightly wiggled the front of Wendy’s ribs. Wendy cackled and laughed hard. “HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!.. it tickles TOOOOOOO much!!... HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!.. My ribbies are way too ticklish!!!... OHHHHHHHHHH HA HA HA HA HAHAHAHAHHAHAAAAAA!!!...” I moved around to the sides of the ribs, drawing more hysterical laughter. “NOOOOOOOOOOO.... STAHHHAHHAHHAHHAAAAAAP!!... tickles! tickles. TICKLLLLLES!!!.... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!...” I could tell, even from her begging, that Wendy was enjoying this. That was fine with me. I scribbled madly over the ribs and sides. Wendy cackled and screamed and laughed crazilly.
Connie moved up, gently pushed me out of the way, and slid the featherduster back and forth across Wendy’s breasts. Wendy started giggling helplessly again. “Tee hee hee hee hee hee.. now you stop that, brat!... tee hee hee hee...”
“Make me,” taunted Connie, stroking lighter and faster.
“Tee hee hee hee... I can’t!... tee hee hee.. I’m helpless!!..” Wendy giggled and giggled. “Tee hee hee hee...oh please!!!.. tee hee hee hee...it’s way...tee hee hee hee TOO TICKLY!!!.. tee hee hee hee....”
“Get the insides of her thighs, Butch,” Connie instructed. “Really high up!”
“NOOOOOOOOO...tee hee hee...” giggled Wendy. “Not there!!!!... tee hee hee...anywhere but there!!!...”
I moved down to the foot of the bed and got comfortably next to the thighs, which were spread out almost in a straight line, contiguous with Wendy’s crotch. I scribbled the inner thighs, just a little bit below where they met the crotch. Wendy giggled hard. “Tee hee hee hee hee... that’s the worst tickle!!! ... tee hee hee hee hee... oh please!!!!.. hee hee hee hee hee hee....” She wiggled her bottom and tried to move her legs, which were very immobile. She ground her butt into the bed. She was getting very wet there. “Tee hee hee hee hee... oh, that drives me CRAZY!... tee hee hee hee...”
“Don’t I know,” grinned Connie. “But not as crazy as this.” Connie extended a fingertip and stroked her girlfriend’s abdomen, back and forth, just above the slit, softly tracing it across Wendy’s mound,. exploring the hills and valleys.
Wendy about went ballistic. She wiggled and arched madly. “Tee hee hee hee hee hee... you meanie!!!” She giggled totally helplessly. I continued my attack on Wendy’s thighs, actually dragging my fingers up and down the crease on each side, where the thighs met the crotch. Wendy cackled madly, squirming and getting wetter. “Tee hee hee hee hee...hahahahahahahahaha.. EEEEEEEEEEIK!!!... tee hee hee hee hee.. oh that sure tickles!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee....” Tears of laughter were streaming down her face now as she arched and wiggled crazilly on the bed. Connie and I continued to tickle tease Wendy until she got too redfaced and short-winded to suit me. We finally had to stop before she passed out. We probably didn’t miss that milestone by much.
Wendy panted and gasped for air, slowly getting her wind back. Connie sat on her far side and stroked her hair and cheeks. I sat next to her and rubbed her thighs, tummy, and upper body in a soothing, non-tickling way. Wendy sighed and purred. Eventually she got her breath. She was still wiggling her bottom involuntarilly though.
Connie saw that and teased. “Is Wendy a lil bit horny?” she giggled.
Wendy glared at Connie, but giggled too. “You know DARN well I am!” she stated.
Connie grinned at me. “And,” she said to her girlfriend, “does Wendy want Tom to help satisfy her?” Connie was always a very considerate person.
Wendy nodded and wiggled her bottom again. “But without my legs tied down!” she looked Connie in the eye.
“Okaaaaaaaay,” started Connie, “But we better get you a lil more ready.” She took a feather, handed the other one to me and grinned.
Wendy said ‘Uh oh,” and giggled. I thought Wendy was plenty ready then....I knew I was...but Connie was in charge.
Connie got comfortable on one side of Wendy, motioning me to do the same. She took the feather and slowly traced it up and down Wendy’s crotch, just away from the slit itself.
I frankly expected gasping, moaning, and perhaps mad giggling or shrieking. Instead I heard a soft giggle...not the hsyterical helpless type that Wendy used before. This obviously not only tickled, but also was very enjoyable. “Tee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee... that tickles!... tee hee hee hee hee...mmmmmmmmm.. tee hee hee hee.” It didn’t stop her from wiggling and squirming there, though. I took up my post on the other side and did the same thing. Wendy giggled happilly. “Tee hee hee...giggle giggle giggle giggle..... that’s awesome!!... tee hee hee hee hee...” She was getting so wet that Connie and I had to stop a few times to wipe our feathers off......and we weren’t even touching the sex itself. “Tee hee hee hee.. oh!!!.. tee hee hee hee... ohhhhh!!!....”
When the oooers were more frequent than the giggles, Connie untied her girlfriend’s ankles and motioned me to my task. I didn’t need much encouragement. Wendy wrapped her legs around me and hugged me tight with them as I went about my business. Connie mischievously sat next to Wendy and stroked her girlfriend’s nipples as I moved about inside of her. Wendy didn’t take long to fire, moaning and pumping, arching and pushing up on me. I wasn’t really good at that in those days, time wise, but I managed to last about 20 minutes. Of course this wasn’t enough to satisfy Wendy,
although I did last long enough for two orgasms from her, but it was better than the average guy, according to what she said later. As I rested from that, Connie, who knew Wendy wasn’t finished, lay between her legs and teased, probed, and otherwise brought her girlfriend up to another two orgasms. By then, I was ready to try again, and managed another short session. Then Connie went to work again. All told, Wendy had seven orgasms of some sort, by our count, in about 75 minutes. She finally collapsed on the bed, exhausted and happy. I untied her and Connie motioned me to the bathroom, where I carried Wendy and where we gave her a long, luxurious bath and other attention.
Back in the bedroom, Connie dressed Wendy in her bikini again. She grinned sillily. “I think we should do another tickling!” she cackled.
Wendy did an ‘Oh no,” small voice.
Connie looked at me. “What do you think?” she grinned.
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” I told her. Only instead of grabbing Wendy, I grabbed Connie and pinned her arms back.
“NOOOOOOOOOO, not me!!!!” squealed Connie.
Wendy found new energy. “YES!” she cackled. “It’s your turn!” And with that, Wendy pounced on Connie and helped me tie her arms back the same way. Connie squealed and squirmed. Connie ws considerably stronger than Wendy......and not as willing a victim. We had no luck getting her legs pinned down. Finally Wendy motioned me off. I looked quizically at her.
“Okay,” Wendy said to Connie. “You have two choices, my pretty.” She paused for effect. “You can either let us take your bikini off and tie your legs like you had mine. or........” she paused for effect and looked Connie square in the eye, “I’ll tickle you under your arms for 10 minutes without stopping.” She giggled.
Connie HATED having her underarms tickled. She shook her head violently. “That’s not fair!!” she protested. You KNOW how I hate having my armpits tickled!”
Wendy leaned in and madly scribbled Connie’s underarms for about 10 seconds. Connie screamed, laughed hysterically, and bounced around the bed, begging Wendy to stop. Wendy did so. “You gonna fight us now?” she asked Connie, hovering her fingers menacingly near Connie’s underarms.
Connie shook her head vigorously. Wendy smiled and shucked Connie’s bikini bottom, then untied and removed the top. She then took each leg and tied them in the same basic T (only not quite as far apart, as Connie wasn’t as limber).
Connie, who wasn’t shy, grinned and wiggled her bottom at me. Wendy wasn’t planning on wasting much time. “So Butch,” she told me, “Do you know what tickles Connie more than anything in the world?” I had a few ideas, none of which turned out to be correct, but shook my head to avoid wasting time. Wendy took the featherduster, sat next to Connie’s middle, and, without any ceremony or prelude, started stroking Connie between the legs with it.
Connie, when she was tickled, reacted in two basic ways: either shrieking laughing, or a high-pitched giggle, depending on where she was getting tickled and how hard the tickling was done. She reacted the second way here. She started giggling in her two-octaves-higher voice. “Tee hee hee hee.. oh Wendy please... tee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee.. you know how that tickles..... hee hee hee hee hee hee.. pleeeeheeheeheeese...”
Wendy handed me the duster. “You tickle her that way, really lightly,” she told me, “while I work her over good!” Never one ot disobey an order, I took the duster and, a little bit shyly, ran it up and down. Connie giggled and squirmed.
Wendy moved up to the head of the bed, extended the fingers on both hands, and slowly and gently drug them over Connie’s upper body, under the arms, along the sides, over the hips, abdomen, up the tummy and ribs, over the breasts, then into the underarms again, moving on the same path over and over, not staying in one place for even a second, tickling her girlfriend’s entire upper body with soft fingertip touches.
Connie giggled shrilly as Wendy’s fingers and my featherduster tickled her. “Tee hee hee hee hee.... oh please!!... tee hee hee hee hee...nooooooooo....tee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee....”
“Oh, my sweetie is so soft and girlish, huh?” teased Wendy, running her fingers even lighter over Connie.
“Tee hee hee hee... EEEEEEEEEEEEIK!!!.. tee hee hee hee...
WENDY!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee....”
Wendy kept up her playful verbal teasing. “Tickle tickle angel, huh?” She scampered her fingers all over. “My lil girl is so ticklish everywhere, isn’t she?”
“Tee hee hee hee.... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Connie giggled and shrieked, depending on whether Wendy was lightly stroking or madly wiggle/scampering. “Tee hee hee hee.. EEEEEEEEEEIK!!.. HAHAHAHAHAHHAHA.. Wendy!!.. hee hee hee hee.. Butch!!!.. hee hee hee hee... it TICKLES!!!!!... tee hee hee hee hee hee hee...
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”
Wendy kept up the tickling until it was obvious Connie needed to rest. Connie’s chest heaved as she caught her breath. Connie hated to be tied up when tickled. She managed, in stages to get her breath back. She grinned up at the two of us. “You BRATS!”
“Oh, brat, huh?” Wendy grinned. “Just for that, you get the worst girl tickle in the world!”
Connie shook her head violently. “NOOOOOOOOOO!! Not that! Don’t let HIM know about that!”
No way I wasn’t going to find out about it now, if it meant I had to tie Wendy back up and tickle it out of her 🙂. But Wendy was more than willing to share. She took a feather, handed me one, and moved towards the middle of the bed, climbing onto the far side. Connie already was wiggling her bottom desperately, not able to move it much out of the way. Wendy helped pin her girlfriend more by sitting on a thigh, motioning me to do the same to the other. Connie whimpered, giggling even before anything was done. I was beginning to guess what this ‘worst girl tickle’ was.
Wendy extended two fingers on the hand without the feather, and gently pulled the top of Connie’s slit to one side. She motioned me to do the same on the other side. I was a little hesitant, but finally did so, a tad awkwardly. Wendy correctd my technique. She then reached in with a third finger and gently pulled the clit hood back, exposing Connie’s clitoris fully. Connie was shaking her head rapidly, trying to wiggle away. “Oh, you know you like it,” Wendy teased her. With that, Wendy moved the feather in and lightly began stroking Connie’s clit with it.
I admit that I didn’t know that a girl was ticklish that way, at least not to the point that Connie was. I found out differently. Connie gasped when the feather first touched.......then giggled totally helplessly. “Giggle giggle giggle giggle giggle.... oh no!!!... giggle giggle giggle giggle....not this!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee hee hee.. please!.... tee hee hee hee hee...anything but this!!!... tee hee hee hee hee...” She pushed her trapped thighs up onto our crotches and tugged hard with her arms. She wiggled her bottom madly the few inches it could move. At Wendy’s prompting, I took my feather and stroked the other side. Connie giggled harder and harder. “Ohhhh!!!.. tee hee hee..giggle giggle giggle...hee hee hee hee... OH!!!!! hee hee hee hee hee.. please no more!!!.. hee hee hee hee hee...”
“Oh, you know you love it,” Wendy smiled, picking up the tempo with her feather.
“Tee hee hee hee.... no!!!!.. tee hee hee hee.. oh it tickles SO much!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee....”
“My lil angel wants to move her bottom so badly, huh?” teased Wendy.
“Tee hee hee... yes!!!.. tee hee hee.. please!!!”
“Nopers,” grinned Wendy. “I’m gonna tickle my lil girl, who wants to move around so so much, but all she can do is lay there and feel all the tickles.” I thought it odd that Wendy, who was 4-8, would call Connie, who was 5-6 and a good 45 lbs heavier, her ‘lil girl’, but I let it pass.
“Tee hee hee...oh please.....” Connie begged, squirming, “tee hee hee hee.. no fair!!!...tee hee hee hee.... making me this helpless!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee...and...tee hee hee hee... tickling me here!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee....” Tears of laughter were already streaming down Connie’s face, and she was as wet, if not wetter, than Wendy was.
“Is my lil sweetie ticklish where she’s a girl?” teased Wendy, stroking and stroking the clit.
“Tee hee hee hee... AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!.. tee hee hee hee....yes!!!.. tee hee hee hee....WENDY!!!!... tee hee hee hee....”
Wendy moved her hand so the side of Connie’s slit was flattened and exposed. She ran the feather up and down the pink area. “Does this tickle my lil girl?”
Connie laughed hard, bucking crazilly on the bed. “HAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHA!!.. NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!.... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !!... EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIK!!!!...” She was literally drenched in sweat now, head tossing from side to side, heels pounding helplessly on the bed, arms tugging desperately. I couldn’t resist and held the other side flat, running the feather up and down. Wendy and I tickled and tickled. “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!... nononononoooo!!!!... hee hee hee hee heeeeee.. HAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! NOT BOTH SIDES!!!.. hahahahahahaha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaa!!! NOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOOO!!!...”
“Is my lil babe ticklish where she’s a precious girl?” Wendy was good at verbally teasing.
“HEE HEE HEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEIK!!!” Connie laughed shrilly. “Tee hee hee hee... YES!!! hee hee hee.. now pleeeeheeheeheeeese....hee hee hee hee... no more!!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee hee....”
“Is my lil girl getting HORNY?” Wendy grinned at Connie, not letting up on the tickling.
“Tee hee hee hee... you BRAT...” giggled Connie, “tee hee hee hee.. you KNOW I am!!... tee hee hee hee hee hee.”
“Does my lil angel want Tom to satisfy HER?” Wendy was very considerate, too. 🙂”
Connie giggled and giggled, then nodded her head... “Tee hee hee... yes, pleeeeheeheeheeeese!!” I think she agreed more to stop the tickles than out of any desire (although Connie and I had had moments before, and I certainly was far from objectionable to her). Wendy grinned, tickled her helpless girlfriend a little longer, and motioned me to go to work. I got inside as Wendy untied Connie’s legs. Connie wrapped her legs around me tight. Wendy sat on the bed on the far side and grinned wickedly. I soon found out why. One of her hands teased and poked at Connie’s nipples while
the other one reached down and stroked my balls. It was hard for me to hold out when she was doing this, but as it turned out, I didn’t need to. The nipple teasing seemed to drive Connie over the edge, and she began to thrash and climax violently. I waited as long as I could (Wendy had quit teasing me, but was now nipple teasing and mound/clit teasing Connie). Connie had another, milder, orgasm, very close to the first one. Connie was usually only good for three or so. I tried to hold on longer, but Connie smiled up at me, through moans. “Let yourself go, hon,” she told me. “Cum for Connie,” I didn’t need any further encouragement and fired long and hard (for me). Connie helped by squeezing on me with herself, and Wendy reached down again and resumed teasing me to get a little extra from me. It worked. After I finished, I stayed hard (with some help from Wendy) and
Wendy and I worked on Connie until she was brought up again, this time slowly, to her third orgasm. Finally, Connie sank back to the bed and motioned that she was quite finished. Wendy untied her and I carried her into the bathroom, where she got the same luxurious treatment Wendy had earlier.
I carried her back into the bedroom when done and Connie relaxed on the bed and napped as Wendy put her bikini back on.
Wendy snuggled up to me and put her head on my shoulder. I stroked her hair. “Did you enjoy that?” she asked me.
As though I wouldn’t have. “Of course,” I told her. “Did you two enjoy it?”
“Oh heavens yes!” exclaimed Wendy, looking up at me. “It was so intense.” She looked at me. “But I don’t think Connie was planning on the tickling she got!”
I looked at Wendy oddly. “You WERE expecting it?”
Wendy smiled. “Of course, hon,” she told me. “I knew she was plotting to get even with me somehow.”
“Well, in that case,” I grinned at Wendy. “There’s a way we were tickling Connie, and I was kind of curious if you were ticklish that way too....”
Wendy giggled nervously. “Oh, if you tickle me that way, hon, I’ll DIE!”
“Get her, Butch,” Connie said, curling up more and continuing to nap contentedly.
“Thanks for the permisssion,” I said. I pinned Wendy back on the bed again, as she giggled, and tied her arms in. With no resistance from her, I tied her legs apart again and untied her bikini and slipped it off. I then got a feather, opened her at the top (there was no clit hood to speak of), and tickled away. Connie turned to face us, still laying on her back, and watched, grinning sleepilly.
“Tee hee hee hee.. oh hon!!!..” giggled Wendy happilly. “Tee hee hee hee, oh that does tickle!!!.... hee hee hee hee hee...” She wiggled her butt as the feather tickled her clit playfully. “Tee hee hee hee, tickles tickles tickles!!!...tee hee hee hee heeeeee....” I flattened one side of her slit and ran the feather mischievously up and down it. Wendy laughed and laughed. “Tee hee hee hee.. ohhhh!!!.. tee hee hee hee.. does more than tickle!!! tee hee hee hee hee....”
“Need a rest?” I asked, tickling. Wendy giggled that she did. I stopped and went to the drawer where I got a couple of pair of socks and tied them together into a rope. Both girls looked at me curiously. I came back to the bed, rolled Connie over on her back, pinned her arms back, tied them together at the wrists, and then back to the far bedpost. Connie resisted only tokenly. “You don’t need your legs tied,” I told her. I tugged her bikini bottom off as she squealed in protest, then removed her top. She wiggled around playfully.
“Go get her Butch!” encouraged Wendy.
“No, get HER!” coached Connie.
I looked at my watch. It was about 2:00, which meant I had at least two more hours. “Oh, I’ll be getting both of you,” I said, matter-of-factly. “I do have two hands, you know.”
The girls giggled. “I took the duster and ran it all over Connie. She giggled, squealed, and wiggled around happily on the bed. Connie loved being tickled, as long as she could move around. I used my other hand to rewield the feather and stroke Wendy between the legs with it. Wendy giggled madly and ground her butt happily on the bed. I ran the duster down in the same place on Connie and danced it playfully. Connie squealed with delight, giggled, and wiggled around on the bed.
I was kept plenty busy for the next two hours. But then, so where they.
I just found this somewhere in the chaos of my harddisk. It's not mine (again) - I think I downloaded it from an old yahoo-newsgroup quite a while ago... it had been part of a series called "I remember" (I think).
The author is the same guy as in the "Traci" parts and - I guess - in "Not There" which I've posted here earlyer.
Have fun and PEACE
tei
Kinky Threesome
I was over at Connie Miller/Roger’s house the other night playing bridge with my sister Cindy and the Rogers. Connie (who you may remember from previous stories) was giggling and eyeing me as we
played. She was up to something, and I knew enough to not ask her what it was. I watched Cindy bring home six notrump with a pseudo squeeze, when Steve, my partner, down to a pure guess, chose the wrong discard. At that point, the the reason for Connie’s mischievous grins rang the doorbell. Connie jumped up and answered it. It was Wendy B., Connie’s longtime girlfriend, who I hadn’t seen for at least 10 years. The two of them hugged, kissed affectionately on the lips (Cindy cringed at the kiss, but Cindy is very straight-arrow old-fashioned, and always will be—Steve and I thought nothing of it, for reasons you’ll soon know), and Connie brought Wendy into the living room. Wendy, who’s been married for over 20 years, then proceeded to hug me silly, kissed me on the lips many times, then made her way to Steve (who she saw many times a year, and hug him. She looked over to Connie, grinned, and proceeded to lay a kiss on Steve that would fry most thermometers. Even Steve was taken aback by it. Connie just giggled. Finally, Wendy made her way to Cindy, hugged her, and, knowing Cindy’s likes and dislikes, gave her a peck on the cheek. She then let out a little squeal, rushed back to me, and proceeded to hug and kiss me silly again, ending up cuddled up to me.
“Wendy, don’t be so shy,” I told her. Then to Connie: “We really do need to teach this gal how to be more open---she’s way too inhibited.” Then to Wendy: “How are things with you and Blake (her husband)?”
“Good, always good,” Wendy bubbled. Wendy had the perfect mate (for her) in Blake R. He knew how she was, knew she loved him above all other people, and let her pretty much do whatever she wanted, which was plenty, even by today’s standards. Wendy has always been one with a positive outlook on life, unafraid to do what she thought needed to do, say what was on her mind (except when tact dictated that it not be said), and generally enjoy life to the fullest. Wendy was about the same weight she’d been almost 30 years earlier, is still pretty, although age had made slight inroads, as it does for those of us who’ve reached our mid-40’s and beyond, and was still full of energy. She and Connie haven’t changed a lot since the lot of us romped as teenagers. Steve tells me that the two of them run around doing things much the same as they did when they were college. Leslie, Connie’s 14 year old daughter, said that the two of them ‘crashed’ one of Leslie’s basement slumber parties at about midnight (a group of adults were upstairs playing some board game) and proceeded to start a pillow fight with the six girls there,which eventually turned into a foot-tickling fight (with the six girls ganging up on Connie and Wendy, who are still mega ticklish), a wrestling match (Connie and Wendy won that one), and finally ended up with six exhausted teen girls under blankets on their way to dreamland---and the Fearsome Twosome trotting upstairs to see what other adventures they could get into with the adults.
“Tom,” Wendy cooed, after some catching-up chatter, “do you remember when you and Connie ganged up on me and raped me that one day in 1971?”
“It isn’t rape when you’re willing,” Connie informed her girlfriend.
“We didn’t exactly ‘rape’ you,” I corrected her. “Molested, yes...
tickled out of your mind, yes... brought to major orgasms, yes.. but
not exactly ‘raped’, although I do remember that little incident a
year later where Bill Hoyt brought over that fur mitten and we---“
Wendy bapped me. “You’ll clown at your own funeral,” she told me, giggling. We recalled the incident for Steve’s benefit, which the three of us remembered in greater detail than we described to Steve. Afterwards Connie informed Wendy that I had been posting some of my experiences from my younger days in this group, including the one where she got her panties wet from the Davis garden sprinkler (an earlier story) and we all had a good laugh over that, including Connie.
“Did you do an article on our little threesome that day?” Wendy asked me.
“Not yet,” I told her. In reality, I wouldn’t post such a thing without permission.
“Well you should!” she exclaimed. Connie nodded, and I shrugged, agreed to abbreviate Wendy’s last name back then (to protect privacy), and here I am now.
Connie Miller, who is a year younger than I am, is/was bisexual (or bi curious) long before such became fashionable among woman. It was something that she didn’t hide, and anybody who criticiczed or shunned her because of that.....well it was their loss, not hers. Anybody who made a major issue over it dealt with the 40-50 people in our neighborhood who did not have a problem with it and such people soon backed off. Connie was Connie, and she wasn’t/isn’t going to change her ways to suit any one person.
One of Connie’s ‘ways’ was being a prankster. She was full of mischief (and still is). Her best friend, Wendy B., who lived about three blocks away, shared her interest. Wendy was the same age as Connie, a year younger than me. She was very short, even for a girl, standing about 4-8 (about 142 cm), and weighing no more than 80 lbs (about 36.7 kilos for our non U.S readers). She had dark brunette, flyaway curly hair that barely reached her shoulders, a pretty, roundish face, small nose, and a smile that showcased dazzlingly white, cavity-free teeth. She was slender, fairly flat chested, seldom wore a bra, and really didn’t need one (but then Connie, who was better endowed, never wore a bra back then either, which was fun when she was wearing a loost t-shirt and bent over), and, in the baggy unisexual clothes of that day, could easilly pass for a guy from a distance (especially since guys back then wore their hair as long or longer than a lot of girls did).
I was home alone, as usual, one day in July of 1971 (my sisters were never around during the day in the summertime, Dad worked, of course, and Mom was always at some function or bridge game), trying to decide which of three shows I wanted to watch. There were only the three networks offered back then---cable was just getting started in 1971, and Dad didn’t get cable, mainly because one of the main owners was a dentist who he didn’t like (although he went to that dentist for his checkups and whatever else was needed). My choices were a quiz show (Password with Alan Ludden, I believe), a soap opera, and an old Gloria Jean movie (A Little Bit of Heaven) that I’d seen (and enjoyed) at least a half dozen times before.
I was deciding between watching the movie again or going down to the park to see what stage the baseball game was in, when the doorbell rang. I went to answer the door. As I opened it, a phone ring came from the family room. “Knock it off, Rocky,” I shouted at our Macaw. “Mom isn’t home.” Rocky, knowing my tone of voice, and knowing I meant it, stopped. Poor Mom, who was fooled at least two thousand times during her life. She would be out in the front or back yard when Rocky did his thing. She’d rush into the house as Rocky ‘rang’ rhythmically to match what the phone would do, grab the phone (Rocky learned to stop, of course, when he saw or heard her enter), answer it, listen to a dial tone, and glare at Rocky, who’d be sitting in the most inaccessible part of his cage, cackling. It’s a wonder that bird didn’t end up as the main course one night.
I opened the door the rest of the way. There stood Connie and Wendy, in shorts and Tshirts. “Butch,” Connie asked me, “Can we use the pool?”
I peered at Connie. She knew better than to need to ask me for permission to use our pool, which was one of those constructable aluminum/vinyl jobs that stood about three feet above ground. I wondered why she was bothering, since she knew she was always welcome to use it and bring whoever she liked. I shrugged. “Sure, go ahead,” I told her.
Connie squealed with delight, as though this was a rare privilege seldome granted. “Good! Okay, Wendy, go back to my house and change to your bikini.” With that, Connie began unfastening her shorts.
“And you’re so happy that you’re going to do a stripshow for me, right?” I asked.
Wendy giggled, turned, and headed back to the Miller house. Connie bapped me. “Silly, I have my bikini on already.” She proceeded to remove the shorts, tshirt, and sandals. She looked around. Wendy was at the street now, crossing it. Connie took my hand, led me inside, and closed the door. She was grinning that silly grin which meant that she was up to something (For the more observant of you who have read my Traci stories, my ficitional character Traci is based to some extent on Connie, personality wise). “I don’t really want to use the pool for a while,” she told me.
“Oh?” I looked at her quizzically. “Well, there’s a wonderful
Gloria Jean movie on channel 8. We can watch that, and I’ll even fix
some popcorn. Of course the soft drinks are extra....I mean I have to
make a profit somewhere......but I might throw in a hot dog for half
price, and if you behave, I’ll even---“
Connie bapped me, giggling. “No, silly, I’ve been waiting to get even with Wendy for almost a week, for her soaping my car.” I remembered that. Wendy did a good job of soaping the windows. It took Connie almost three hours to get all the soap off. “And when she comes back, in that skimpy lil bikini of hers, guess what WE’RE gonna do?”
My eyes lit up, but I feigned ignorance. “Stick bamboo shoots
under her fingernails? Sell her into a life of slavery? Stick pins
in—“
Connie giggled. “No, silly goose, you’re gonna help me tickle her GOOD!!!”
Never the one to waste an opportunity, I grabbed Connie and gently pushed her back onto an easy chair. “Oh, like this?” I asked her politely. I dug my fingers into the sides of Connie’s ribs and wiggled playfully.
Connie squealed and wiggled around, but didn’t try to get away. “EEEEEEEEEIK!!! HA HA HA HA HA HA....EEEEEEEEEEIK!... hee hee hee hee hee hee.....Butch!!.. tee hee hee hee.. tickles!!!!.... tee hee hee hee hee....” Connie usually loved being tickled, as long as she could squirm around. I lifted her arms over her head, pinning them at the wrists in one of mine, and scribbled in the hollows of each underarm. Connie screamed, as usual, and laughed hard. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ...!!!
NOOOOOOOOOO!!!... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!!!” I wandered around the
ribs, tummy, sides, and underarms, as Connie cackled, giggled, laughed, and wiggled around on the easy chair.
Connie finally tugged with her arms and said, between giggles, “Stop.. hee hee hee hee...seriously!... hee hee hee..” ‘Seriously’ was our safeword, and I stopped. She caught her breath and said, “You can tickle me to death some other time. I want to get things ready for Wendy. You stall her from getting into the pool till I’m done.” Without waiting for a reply, she took off upstairs for my room.
I was listening to Connie rummaging around upstairs. I had a good idea what she was up to. A few minutes later, Wendy knocked again. Rocky did his phone imitation, was told to knock it off, and stopped. I went to the door and let Wendy in. She was wearing a rather skimpy bikini. The top didn’t have much to hide and did its job well, but the bottom, one of the kind that ties at the sides, was either a size too loose or wasn’t tied well enough. In any event, it showed about as much as could be shown publically, although it wasn’t one of the G-string back types. I led her inside and told her to make herself comfortable while I cleaned the leaves and other debris out of the pool. But before I could go to do that, Connie came bounding downstairs. She was grinning her mischievous grin.
This wasn’t lost on Wendy, who was sitting in the easy chair Connie was tickled in a few minutes earlier. “Uh oh,” Wendy giggled nervously, “I’m in trouble, I think.” She sank back into the chair.
“Yuppers,” said Connie, pouncing on Wendy.
“Tee hee hee,” giggled Wendy as Connie wrestled with her. “It’s about time you got even with me for that car thingie.” So she’d suspected it all along.
“Yep,” said Connie. Then to me: “Butch, carry her upstairs.” I went over to the chair, scooped Wendy up, bridal style, and followed Connie upstairs with her. Wendy wiggled playfully in my arms, giggling and giggling. Whatever we had in store for her didn’t seem to phase her. How little I knew at the time what Connie had in mind...
Connie led me to my room, of course. On the bed, which was one of the four-bedpost-types with a sturdy bedframe, were two sock-ropes, made from some of Cindy’s knee-socks, one attached to each of the posts at the head of the bed. A kingsized bedsheet had been run under the bed and the ends of this were laying on each side about two thirds of the way toward the foot of the bed. Wendy saw all of this and squirmed a bit more. “No!!!!...” she protested... “No fair tying me up!!!”
“Oh yes, fair!” teased Connie. “We’re gonna tie you up GOOD so you can’t move an inch! I knew my part and laid Wendy down on the bed, pinning her arms back. Wendy squealed and giggled, putting up token resistance. Connie climbed onto the bed, took Wendy’s arm furthest from me, and tied it to the appropriate sockrope, while I tied the other arm to it’s rope. Connie then sat on Wendy’s far leg, pulled it apart, and tied it to the sheet end on that side. I didn’t help with this part. Wendy closed her free leg as best she could, but Connie wrestled with it, goaded me into helping, and the two of us managed to get the other leg tied in place. Connie then looped the loose sheet around Wendy’s near ankle over and over until her girlfriend’s legs were tied firmly in place. She then admired her work. Wendy was tied up helpless, arms spreadeagled back, and legs almost in a T---as far apart as they could be tied without hurting her, which was pretty far, as lithe and supple as Wendy was.
I was admiring Connie’s work, too, but in a different way. As noted, Wendy’s bikini was a little loose, and the legs being tied the way they were afforded an excellent view of quite a bit of girl. Connie caught me looking and smiled. “Okay, you,” she told me, “there’s no need to squint and strain to see anything.”
“I’m not squinting or straining,” I told her, matter-of-factly, “I can see everything fine just like this.”
Wendy, who I thought would be embarassed, just giggled. Connie said, “Well, you don’t have to strain at all,” she said. Connie seldom surprised me, as I was used to her wild antics, but she managed to do so then. “Cause this is coming off!”
Wendy eeped. “Hey, no fair!” she told Connie. “Not while I’m helpless!”
“Be happy she didn’t bring her camera,” I told Wendy. “She has
this huge photo album of naked pictures, most of them of her, and she
likes to get it out at Christmas and go to this retirement home on
Brody Street and give the people there---“
Connie bapped me again, giggling. “You BRAT!” she kidded me. With that, she surprised me again---even though she told me it was coming— by untying the top and bottom parts of Wendy’s bikini and whisking them off.
Wendy blushed briefly, and giggled nervously. She didn’t seem overly upset. I looked. Other than the fact that she was pretty flat-chested, as noted, and the fact that she had almost no pubic hair, everything looked normal. The lack of hair puzzled me though, since shaving there wasn’t a popular thing back then with females.
Connie read my mind, as usual. “Something wrong?” she giggled.
I shrugged. “Well, I was just curious about something,” I told her.
Connie giggled again. “Why no hair?” she asked me pointedly.
“Well.....uh....” I stammered, rare for me. “Erm... yes.”
Connie giggled. “Well, that never bothered you about ME,” she said, sitting on the bed, briefly pulling her bikini bottom down, and parting her legs to show that she hadn’t allowed any hair to accumulate either. I admired the view for the five seconds or so it was offered. “Get a close enough look?” she asked, mock-glaring.
“No, as a matter of fact, I was still analyzing a few things,” I
told her. “Would you mind letting me examnie it for another minute or
so? I have this theory---“
Connie put her hand over my mouth, laughing. “So I’m that way,” she told me. Why would it surprise you that Wendy is?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “But you like to.....” I thought a second. The word ‘bi’ wasn’t really around then, and there wasn’t a fashionable way to put it. I thought of the best way possible to handle it. “... like to be touched lightly there in certain ways.”
“Yeah,” laughed Connie, “by both boys and girls.” She snickered. “Well, why can’t Wendy like that too?” I looked over at Wendy, who smiled.
“Ahh, okay, I’m up to date now,” I said. So Wendy was Connie’s girlfriend in more ways than one. That was fine by me. I hadn’t ever done a threesome though, at least not where one of the girls was aggressive, as Connie was bound to be here.
“And it feels so much more intense when there’s no hair in the way,” Connie informed me. I could imagine that it did. “And anyhow, guess what, Butch?” I raised an eyebrow. “Wendy...” she paused for effect, “...is super mega ticklish....... everywhere!”
Wendy giggled nervously. “Oh, no, you two are gonna tickle me to death!”
“You got it,” Connie grinned. “And guess what else, Butch?” Not getting a reply, she continued, “When Wendy is tickled, she does your favorite thing..... she giggles helplessly.” Connie knew me well.
Wendy squirmed on the bed. “Aaaaaack, I’m gonna get tickled by you two,” she said in a soft voice. She smiled.
“Yep,” said Connie, “Till yer gigglin’ like a lil girl. We’re gonna GETCHA!” With that Connie climbed over Wendy, lay on the bed on the other side of her, and extended a fingertip. Connie didn’t have long nails, but the nails she had would be felt. Wendy giggled nervously. Connie placed the fingertip in Wendy’s exposed underarm, and drug it softly down her side, to the base of her hip, then back up again, over and over.
True to prediction, Wendy giggled madly. “Tee hee hee hee... oh Connie!... tee hee hee hee hee hee.. oh that tickles!!.. tee hee hee hee.. you meanie!!!... tee hee hee hee hee...” She pulled away slightly from Connie’s touch.
Connie motioned me to join in. I didn’t need a second invitation. I scribbled my fingers on the sides of her ribs. Wendy eeiked a little, then went back to giggling. “Tee hee hee hee... oh it tickles!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee heeee....”
I stopped suddenly. Connie and Wendy looked up at me. “Question,” I began. Connie nodded. “I know that it’s early yet, but I like to know before I get involved. “I know you sans clothes, but I still assume there are out of bounds areas...for me anyhow?”
Wendy shook her head. Girls never ceased to surprise me back then. “Not really,” she said. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll let you know.”
Connie made it clearer. “Sweetie, Wendy isn’t a naive lil girlie, or bashful, and I wouldn’t have put her in this position with you here if I didn’t know she was comfortable about it.” She grinned at me. “And I seriously doubt you can do anything to her that would be ‘too much’ for HER to handle.” She giggled and winked at Wendy. Wendy giggled, too. “Just go slowly,” Connie added. Wendy nodded.
“Well, I can certainly TRY to make it ‘too much’,” I replied, grinning evilly. Connie laughed, and Wendy giggled again, and wiggled around. “So, basically, almost nothing is out of bounds?” I asked, to be sure.
“Not really,” Wendy said again.
“Not touching wise, anyway,” Connie told me, looking me in the eye. I knew what she meant. “And possibly not otherwise, either, but that’s something we’ll see about.” She grinned. I knew that with Connie, ‘otherwise’ was a good possibility. Wendy I wasn’t sure of, not that it mattered. I would have trouble keep up with Connie in that department.
“Good,” I said, “because there’s something I love to do and never get a chance to much,” I said coversationally. With that, I got comfortable next to Wendy, rested the fingers of one hand on the underside of the breast nearest me, and lightly scribbled.
Wendy giggled madly. “Tee hee hee hee.. now quit that!...tee hee hee hee hee...” She squirmed around.
“Ohhhhh,” cooed Connie, “that’s one of her best tickle spots!” Connie got comfy on the other side and tickled Wendy’s other breast the same way, using her fingernails. “Don’t touch the nipples yet,” she grinned teasingly at Wendy.
I didn’t bother asking Connie how she knew that fact. The two of us just lay there on each side of Wendy, lightly running our fingertips around the soft flesh of her her smallish, sensitve breasts.
Wendy giggled and squirmed. “Tee hee hee hee hee... you two brats!!.. tee hee hee hee.. that tickles me TONS!... tee hee hee hee hee.. oh now stop it... tee hee hee hee hee.. It’s TOO tickly!.. tee hee hee hee hee heeeeeeee...” Wendy tugged with her arms, wiggled her bottom helplessly, and arched her back to try to move our fingers onto the nipples. She giggled and giggled, squirming more and more.
“Does Wendy want us to tickle a certain way?” Connie teased her girlfriend, carefully avoiding the nipples.
“Tee hee hee hehehehehehehehe... you two are mean!!!.. tee hee hee hee hehehehehehhehe... you know what I want Connie Miller!... teehee hee hee hee... you’re torturing me!.. tee hee hee hee hee hee hee....I can’t stand it!!.. tee hee hee hee hee....”
Connie placed her hand on mine to stop me. She drew it away, placed it back on Wendy’s breast and softly scribbled around the base of the nipple, motioning me to do the same.
Wendy giggled more madly. “Tee hee hee hee... that’s MEAN!!!..... tee hee hee hee hehehehehehehe.. you BRATS!... tee hee hee hee hee.. oh I’m gonna go nuts!... tee hee hee hee hehehehehehe” Wendy wiggled and wiggled, trying to get our fingers onto the main part of the nipples, but we carefully avoided it. She giggled crazilly, tossing her head from side to side.
Connie got up from the bed and went to my lower dresser, knowing what she was looking for. She found the feathers and the duster and brought them back and sat back down on Wendy’s far side. Wendy’s eyes widened when she saw the feathers. She made little noises and scrunched her nose.
Connie handed me a feather, then drug her feather over and over one of Wendy’s nipples.
Wendy started giggling again, more helpless than before. “Nooooooo... tee hee hee hee hee hehehehehehehehehe... you brats!!!.. tee hee hee hehehehehehehehe... that tickles lots TOO!... tee hee hee hee hee... oh you’re driving me crazy!!!.. tee hee hee.” I took the feather and danced it playfully over the other nipple. Wendy laughed and giggled and squirmed helplessly. Tears of laughter were streaming down her face. She was sweating pretty good.
Connie motioned for me to let Wendy rest. After a short pause, Connie went to work on Wendy’s tummy, scribbling and dragging her fingers gently. Wendy laughed and laughed, trying to suck in her tummy to get away from the tickling. I lightly wiggled the front of Wendy’s ribs. Wendy cackled and laughed hard. “HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!.. it tickles TOOOOOOO much!!... HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!.. My ribbies are way too ticklish!!!... OHHHHHHHHHH HA HA HA HA HAHAHAHAHHAHAAAAAA!!!...” I moved around to the sides of the ribs, drawing more hysterical laughter. “NOOOOOOOOOOO.... STAHHHAHHAHHAHHAAAAAAP!!... tickles! tickles. TICKLLLLLES!!!.... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!...” I could tell, even from her begging, that Wendy was enjoying this. That was fine with me. I scribbled madly over the ribs and sides. Wendy cackled and screamed and laughed crazilly.
Connie moved up, gently pushed me out of the way, and slid the featherduster back and forth across Wendy’s breasts. Wendy started giggling helplessly again. “Tee hee hee hee hee hee.. now you stop that, brat!... tee hee hee hee...”
“Make me,” taunted Connie, stroking lighter and faster.
“Tee hee hee hee... I can’t!... tee hee hee.. I’m helpless!!..” Wendy giggled and giggled. “Tee hee hee hee...oh please!!!.. tee hee hee hee...it’s way...tee hee hee hee TOO TICKLY!!!.. tee hee hee hee....”
“Get the insides of her thighs, Butch,” Connie instructed. “Really high up!”
“NOOOOOOOOO...tee hee hee...” giggled Wendy. “Not there!!!!... tee hee hee...anywhere but there!!!...”
I moved down to the foot of the bed and got comfortably next to the thighs, which were spread out almost in a straight line, contiguous with Wendy’s crotch. I scribbled the inner thighs, just a little bit below where they met the crotch. Wendy giggled hard. “Tee hee hee hee hee... that’s the worst tickle!!! ... tee hee hee hee hee... oh please!!!!.. hee hee hee hee hee hee....” She wiggled her bottom and tried to move her legs, which were very immobile. She ground her butt into the bed. She was getting very wet there. “Tee hee hee hee hee... oh, that drives me CRAZY!... tee hee hee hee...”
“Don’t I know,” grinned Connie. “But not as crazy as this.” Connie extended a fingertip and stroked her girlfriend’s abdomen, back and forth, just above the slit, softly tracing it across Wendy’s mound,. exploring the hills and valleys.
Wendy about went ballistic. She wiggled and arched madly. “Tee hee hee hee hee hee... you meanie!!!” She giggled totally helplessly. I continued my attack on Wendy’s thighs, actually dragging my fingers up and down the crease on each side, where the thighs met the crotch. Wendy cackled madly, squirming and getting wetter. “Tee hee hee hee hee...hahahahahahahahaha.. EEEEEEEEEEIK!!!... tee hee hee hee hee.. oh that sure tickles!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee....” Tears of laughter were streaming down her face now as she arched and wiggled crazilly on the bed. Connie and I continued to tickle tease Wendy until she got too redfaced and short-winded to suit me. We finally had to stop before she passed out. We probably didn’t miss that milestone by much.
Wendy panted and gasped for air, slowly getting her wind back. Connie sat on her far side and stroked her hair and cheeks. I sat next to her and rubbed her thighs, tummy, and upper body in a soothing, non-tickling way. Wendy sighed and purred. Eventually she got her breath. She was still wiggling her bottom involuntarilly though.
Connie saw that and teased. “Is Wendy a lil bit horny?” she giggled.
Wendy glared at Connie, but giggled too. “You know DARN well I am!” she stated.
Connie grinned at me. “And,” she said to her girlfriend, “does Wendy want Tom to help satisfy her?” Connie was always a very considerate person.
Wendy nodded and wiggled her bottom again. “But without my legs tied down!” she looked Connie in the eye.
“Okaaaaaaaay,” started Connie, “But we better get you a lil more ready.” She took a feather, handed the other one to me and grinned.
Wendy said ‘Uh oh,” and giggled. I thought Wendy was plenty ready then....I knew I was...but Connie was in charge.
Connie got comfortable on one side of Wendy, motioning me to do the same. She took the feather and slowly traced it up and down Wendy’s crotch, just away from the slit itself.
I frankly expected gasping, moaning, and perhaps mad giggling or shrieking. Instead I heard a soft giggle...not the hsyterical helpless type that Wendy used before. This obviously not only tickled, but also was very enjoyable. “Tee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee... that tickles!... tee hee hee hee hee...mmmmmmmmm.. tee hee hee hee.” It didn’t stop her from wiggling and squirming there, though. I took up my post on the other side and did the same thing. Wendy giggled happilly. “Tee hee hee...giggle giggle giggle giggle..... that’s awesome!!... tee hee hee hee hee...” She was getting so wet that Connie and I had to stop a few times to wipe our feathers off......and we weren’t even touching the sex itself. “Tee hee hee hee.. oh!!!.. tee hee hee hee... ohhhhh!!!....”
When the oooers were more frequent than the giggles, Connie untied her girlfriend’s ankles and motioned me to my task. I didn’t need much encouragement. Wendy wrapped her legs around me and hugged me tight with them as I went about my business. Connie mischievously sat next to Wendy and stroked her girlfriend’s nipples as I moved about inside of her. Wendy didn’t take long to fire, moaning and pumping, arching and pushing up on me. I wasn’t really good at that in those days, time wise, but I managed to last about 20 minutes. Of course this wasn’t enough to satisfy Wendy,
although I did last long enough for two orgasms from her, but it was better than the average guy, according to what she said later. As I rested from that, Connie, who knew Wendy wasn’t finished, lay between her legs and teased, probed, and otherwise brought her girlfriend up to another two orgasms. By then, I was ready to try again, and managed another short session. Then Connie went to work again. All told, Wendy had seven orgasms of some sort, by our count, in about 75 minutes. She finally collapsed on the bed, exhausted and happy. I untied her and Connie motioned me to the bathroom, where I carried Wendy and where we gave her a long, luxurious bath and other attention.
Back in the bedroom, Connie dressed Wendy in her bikini again. She grinned sillily. “I think we should do another tickling!” she cackled.
Wendy did an ‘Oh no,” small voice.
Connie looked at me. “What do you think?” she grinned.
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” I told her. Only instead of grabbing Wendy, I grabbed Connie and pinned her arms back.
“NOOOOOOOOOO, not me!!!!” squealed Connie.
Wendy found new energy. “YES!” she cackled. “It’s your turn!” And with that, Wendy pounced on Connie and helped me tie her arms back the same way. Connie squealed and squirmed. Connie ws considerably stronger than Wendy......and not as willing a victim. We had no luck getting her legs pinned down. Finally Wendy motioned me off. I looked quizically at her.
“Okay,” Wendy said to Connie. “You have two choices, my pretty.” She paused for effect. “You can either let us take your bikini off and tie your legs like you had mine. or........” she paused for effect and looked Connie square in the eye, “I’ll tickle you under your arms for 10 minutes without stopping.” She giggled.
Connie HATED having her underarms tickled. She shook her head violently. “That’s not fair!!” she protested. You KNOW how I hate having my armpits tickled!”
Wendy leaned in and madly scribbled Connie’s underarms for about 10 seconds. Connie screamed, laughed hysterically, and bounced around the bed, begging Wendy to stop. Wendy did so. “You gonna fight us now?” she asked Connie, hovering her fingers menacingly near Connie’s underarms.
Connie shook her head vigorously. Wendy smiled and shucked Connie’s bikini bottom, then untied and removed the top. She then took each leg and tied them in the same basic T (only not quite as far apart, as Connie wasn’t as limber).
Connie, who wasn’t shy, grinned and wiggled her bottom at me. Wendy wasn’t planning on wasting much time. “So Butch,” she told me, “Do you know what tickles Connie more than anything in the world?” I had a few ideas, none of which turned out to be correct, but shook my head to avoid wasting time. Wendy took the featherduster, sat next to Connie’s middle, and, without any ceremony or prelude, started stroking Connie between the legs with it.
Connie, when she was tickled, reacted in two basic ways: either shrieking laughing, or a high-pitched giggle, depending on where she was getting tickled and how hard the tickling was done. She reacted the second way here. She started giggling in her two-octaves-higher voice. “Tee hee hee hee.. oh Wendy please... tee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee.. you know how that tickles..... hee hee hee hee hee hee.. pleeeeheeheeheeese...”
Wendy handed me the duster. “You tickle her that way, really lightly,” she told me, “while I work her over good!” Never one ot disobey an order, I took the duster and, a little bit shyly, ran it up and down. Connie giggled and squirmed.
Wendy moved up to the head of the bed, extended the fingers on both hands, and slowly and gently drug them over Connie’s upper body, under the arms, along the sides, over the hips, abdomen, up the tummy and ribs, over the breasts, then into the underarms again, moving on the same path over and over, not staying in one place for even a second, tickling her girlfriend’s entire upper body with soft fingertip touches.
Connie giggled shrilly as Wendy’s fingers and my featherduster tickled her. “Tee hee hee hee hee.... oh please!!... tee hee hee hee hee...nooooooooo....tee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee....”
“Oh, my sweetie is so soft and girlish, huh?” teased Wendy, running her fingers even lighter over Connie.
“Tee hee hee hee... EEEEEEEEEEEEIK!!!.. tee hee hee hee...
WENDY!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee....”
Wendy kept up her playful verbal teasing. “Tickle tickle angel, huh?” She scampered her fingers all over. “My lil girl is so ticklish everywhere, isn’t she?”
“Tee hee hee hee.... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Connie giggled and shrieked, depending on whether Wendy was lightly stroking or madly wiggle/scampering. “Tee hee hee hee.. EEEEEEEEEEIK!!.. HAHAHAHAHAHHAHA.. Wendy!!.. hee hee hee hee.. Butch!!!.. hee hee hee hee... it TICKLES!!!!!... tee hee hee hee hee hee hee...
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”
Wendy kept up the tickling until it was obvious Connie needed to rest. Connie’s chest heaved as she caught her breath. Connie hated to be tied up when tickled. She managed, in stages to get her breath back. She grinned up at the two of us. “You BRATS!”
“Oh, brat, huh?” Wendy grinned. “Just for that, you get the worst girl tickle in the world!”
Connie shook her head violently. “NOOOOOOOOOO!! Not that! Don’t let HIM know about that!”
No way I wasn’t going to find out about it now, if it meant I had to tie Wendy back up and tickle it out of her 🙂. But Wendy was more than willing to share. She took a feather, handed me one, and moved towards the middle of the bed, climbing onto the far side. Connie already was wiggling her bottom desperately, not able to move it much out of the way. Wendy helped pin her girlfriend more by sitting on a thigh, motioning me to do the same to the other. Connie whimpered, giggling even before anything was done. I was beginning to guess what this ‘worst girl tickle’ was.
Wendy extended two fingers on the hand without the feather, and gently pulled the top of Connie’s slit to one side. She motioned me to do the same on the other side. I was a little hesitant, but finally did so, a tad awkwardly. Wendy correctd my technique. She then reached in with a third finger and gently pulled the clit hood back, exposing Connie’s clitoris fully. Connie was shaking her head rapidly, trying to wiggle away. “Oh, you know you like it,” Wendy teased her. With that, Wendy moved the feather in and lightly began stroking Connie’s clit with it.
I admit that I didn’t know that a girl was ticklish that way, at least not to the point that Connie was. I found out differently. Connie gasped when the feather first touched.......then giggled totally helplessly. “Giggle giggle giggle giggle giggle.... oh no!!!... giggle giggle giggle giggle....not this!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee hee hee.. please!.... tee hee hee hee hee...anything but this!!!... tee hee hee hee hee...” She pushed her trapped thighs up onto our crotches and tugged hard with her arms. She wiggled her bottom madly the few inches it could move. At Wendy’s prompting, I took my feather and stroked the other side. Connie giggled harder and harder. “Ohhhh!!!.. tee hee hee..giggle giggle giggle...hee hee hee hee... OH!!!!! hee hee hee hee hee.. please no more!!!.. hee hee hee hee hee...”
“Oh, you know you love it,” Wendy smiled, picking up the tempo with her feather.
“Tee hee hee hee.... no!!!!.. tee hee hee hee.. oh it tickles SO much!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee....”
“My lil angel wants to move her bottom so badly, huh?” teased Wendy.
“Tee hee hee... yes!!!.. tee hee hee.. please!!!”
“Nopers,” grinned Wendy. “I’m gonna tickle my lil girl, who wants to move around so so much, but all she can do is lay there and feel all the tickles.” I thought it odd that Wendy, who was 4-8, would call Connie, who was 5-6 and a good 45 lbs heavier, her ‘lil girl’, but I let it pass.
“Tee hee hee...oh please.....” Connie begged, squirming, “tee hee hee hee.. no fair!!!...tee hee hee hee.... making me this helpless!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee...and...tee hee hee hee... tickling me here!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee....” Tears of laughter were already streaming down Connie’s face, and she was as wet, if not wetter, than Wendy was.
“Is my lil sweetie ticklish where she’s a girl?” teased Wendy, stroking and stroking the clit.
“Tee hee hee hee... AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!.. tee hee hee hee....yes!!!.. tee hee hee hee....WENDY!!!!... tee hee hee hee....”
Wendy moved her hand so the side of Connie’s slit was flattened and exposed. She ran the feather up and down the pink area. “Does this tickle my lil girl?”
Connie laughed hard, bucking crazilly on the bed. “HAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHA!!.. NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!.... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !!... EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIK!!!!...” She was literally drenched in sweat now, head tossing from side to side, heels pounding helplessly on the bed, arms tugging desperately. I couldn’t resist and held the other side flat, running the feather up and down. Wendy and I tickled and tickled. “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!... nononononoooo!!!!... hee hee hee hee heeeeee.. HAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! NOT BOTH SIDES!!!.. hahahahahahaha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaa!!! NOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOOO!!!...”
“Is my lil babe ticklish where she’s a precious girl?” Wendy was good at verbally teasing.
“HEE HEE HEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEIK!!!” Connie laughed shrilly. “Tee hee hee hee... YES!!! hee hee hee.. now pleeeeheeheeheeeese....hee hee hee hee... no more!!!!.. tee hee hee hee hee hee....”
“Is my lil girl getting HORNY?” Wendy grinned at Connie, not letting up on the tickling.
“Tee hee hee hee... you BRAT...” giggled Connie, “tee hee hee hee.. you KNOW I am!!... tee hee hee hee hee hee.”
“Does my lil angel want Tom to satisfy HER?” Wendy was very considerate, too. 🙂”
Connie giggled and giggled, then nodded her head... “Tee hee hee... yes, pleeeeheeheeheeeese!!” I think she agreed more to stop the tickles than out of any desire (although Connie and I had had moments before, and I certainly was far from objectionable to her). Wendy grinned, tickled her helpless girlfriend a little longer, and motioned me to go to work. I got inside as Wendy untied Connie’s legs. Connie wrapped her legs around me tight. Wendy sat on the bed on the far side and grinned wickedly. I soon found out why. One of her hands teased and poked at Connie’s nipples while
the other one reached down and stroked my balls. It was hard for me to hold out when she was doing this, but as it turned out, I didn’t need to. The nipple teasing seemed to drive Connie over the edge, and she began to thrash and climax violently. I waited as long as I could (Wendy had quit teasing me, but was now nipple teasing and mound/clit teasing Connie). Connie had another, milder, orgasm, very close to the first one. Connie was usually only good for three or so. I tried to hold on longer, but Connie smiled up at me, through moans. “Let yourself go, hon,” she told me. “Cum for Connie,” I didn’t need any further encouragement and fired long and hard (for me). Connie helped by squeezing on me with herself, and Wendy reached down again and resumed teasing me to get a little extra from me. It worked. After I finished, I stayed hard (with some help from Wendy) and
Wendy and I worked on Connie until she was brought up again, this time slowly, to her third orgasm. Finally, Connie sank back to the bed and motioned that she was quite finished. Wendy untied her and I carried her into the bathroom, where she got the same luxurious treatment Wendy had earlier.
I carried her back into the bedroom when done and Connie relaxed on the bed and napped as Wendy put her bikini back on.
Wendy snuggled up to me and put her head on my shoulder. I stroked her hair. “Did you enjoy that?” she asked me.
As though I wouldn’t have. “Of course,” I told her. “Did you two enjoy it?”
“Oh heavens yes!” exclaimed Wendy, looking up at me. “It was so intense.” She looked at me. “But I don’t think Connie was planning on the tickling she got!”
I looked at Wendy oddly. “You WERE expecting it?”
Wendy smiled. “Of course, hon,” she told me. “I knew she was plotting to get even with me somehow.”
“Well, in that case,” I grinned at Wendy. “There’s a way we were tickling Connie, and I was kind of curious if you were ticklish that way too....”
Wendy giggled nervously. “Oh, if you tickle me that way, hon, I’ll DIE!”
“Get her, Butch,” Connie said, curling up more and continuing to nap contentedly.
“Thanks for the permisssion,” I said. I pinned Wendy back on the bed again, as she giggled, and tied her arms in. With no resistance from her, I tied her legs apart again and untied her bikini and slipped it off. I then got a feather, opened her at the top (there was no clit hood to speak of), and tickled away. Connie turned to face us, still laying on her back, and watched, grinning sleepilly.
“Tee hee hee hee.. oh hon!!!..” giggled Wendy happilly. “Tee hee hee hee, oh that does tickle!!!.... hee hee hee hee hee...” She wiggled her butt as the feather tickled her clit playfully. “Tee hee hee hee, tickles tickles tickles!!!...tee hee hee hee heeeeee....” I flattened one side of her slit and ran the feather mischievously up and down it. Wendy laughed and laughed. “Tee hee hee hee.. ohhhh!!!.. tee hee hee hee.. does more than tickle!!! tee hee hee hee hee....”
“Need a rest?” I asked, tickling. Wendy giggled that she did. I stopped and went to the drawer where I got a couple of pair of socks and tied them together into a rope. Both girls looked at me curiously. I came back to the bed, rolled Connie over on her back, pinned her arms back, tied them together at the wrists, and then back to the far bedpost. Connie resisted only tokenly. “You don’t need your legs tied,” I told her. I tugged her bikini bottom off as she squealed in protest, then removed her top. She wiggled around playfully.
“Go get her Butch!” encouraged Wendy.
“No, get HER!” coached Connie.
I looked at my watch. It was about 2:00, which meant I had at least two more hours. “Oh, I’ll be getting both of you,” I said, matter-of-factly. “I do have two hands, you know.”
The girls giggled. “I took the duster and ran it all over Connie. She giggled, squealed, and wiggled around happily on the bed. Connie loved being tickled, as long as she could move around. I used my other hand to rewield the feather and stroke Wendy between the legs with it. Wendy giggled madly and ground her butt happily on the bed. I ran the duster down in the same place on Connie and danced it playfully. Connie squealed with delight, giggled, and wiggled around on the bed.
I was kept plenty busy for the next two hours. But then, so where they.
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