melonboobs
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2010
- Messages
- 194
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Mark married Doris "Dolly" Hofstein in 1908 when he was 23 and she was 26. He married her because he was attracted to her enormous bosoms. Before the day they met when he delivered her mail as she sat on her front porch, Dolly feared she would be an old maid teacher. The local men shunned her and seemed embarrassed to be around a woman with such abnormally large boobs. Mark, a very shy man, did feel a tad embarrassed that everyone would know that he must like big breasts, but he hid his feelings.
Every night, Doris took off her corset and let him see her naked before she put out the lamp. This was enough to give him an erection. He often played with her breasts under the covers--caressing, massaging, sucking--for almost an hour, making her so aroused that she came quickly when he penetrated her.
Mark always thought of tickling when he masturbated or while he humped Dolly. There was something about the involuntary laughter, the loss of control, and the inability to stop the sensation that excited him. At a young age he had witnessed a woman wrestler taking on all comers at a traveling carnival. She pinned several males from the audience one at a time, even though all 3 were larger and heavier than her. He imagined this woman wrestler tickling the men and being tickled and constant laughter rang inside his head until he would ejaculate.
One warm June evening, he tickled Dolly's tummy while he played with her tits. Dolly was extremely ticklish and laughed in surprise. It was just a brief tickle. But the next night, he tickled her again...this time a little longer. She laughed and said "cut it out." And on the following night, he tickled still longer.
"Why are you tickling me?" she asked, finally grabbing his wrists to stop him. Mark didn't answer and couldn't explain his reasoning.
The next night, Dolly warned him, "no tickling," before he got in the bed. She turned away from him and they spooned while he caressed a breast. She got wet and turned toward him. He sat on her and started tickling her nipples. Loud laughter shot through the dark house. They discovered her nipples were the most ticklish part of her body, even more than her arm pits, belly, and feet.
"I said no tickling. I can't stand it," Dolly said.
But she kept giggling and her demand didn't sound serious to Mark. He was taller and much stronger than Dolly and he pinned both of her hands with one elbow while he relentlessly tickled her nipples.
"Tickle, tickle...tickle, tickle...tickle, tickle...tickle, tickle...tickle, tickle, tickle," Mark kept saying while his fingers raced over her pointy nipples. Dolly couldn't stop laughing. She felt frustrated at being over powered and panic over the thought that Mark might never stop. Nevertheless, the sensation sent a tingling feeling from her breasts to her clitoris and she realized she'd had an orgasm. This made her even more ticklish. When Mark stopped, she wanted more.
"Lie on your back, you big bully," she said.
Mark did and for the first time, she rode him in the female superior posture, her boobs hovering over him. They were so heavy.
For a few weeks their house was the scene of nightly nipple tickling. Dolly no longer objected, but instead submitted, resigned to her husband's domineering habit. Women were little more than slaves to their husbands then, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Dolly went to a woman's suffrage meeting on a Saturday afternoon, and a speaker lamented the state of woman's rights, using the metaphor "in chains." This gave Dolly an idea. She thought of Mark being in chains and how she could turn the tables on him. She wanted to make him feel helpless, like he made her feel. She went home and unhooked the clothes line in the backyard, rolled it up and carried it inside, hiding it under the bed. She thought for a moment, then took the rope and measured where Mark slept, and practiced making loops, pretending that she had Mark tied. She left the loops and placed the rope under the bed again.
That night, she tickled Mark back during foreplay, catching him off guard, and he laughed. Dolly was gratified to discover that he was also ticklish. The brief tickle seemed to make him harder. During intercourse she fantasized having Mark helpless.
Dolly stayed awake all night, uncertain whether to dare tie Mark down while he slept. How would he react? She thought of the little tickle she gave him during foreplay, and his response. She wanted to give him more than just a little tickle.
Around dawn, the black night gave way to the beginning light of morning. Carefully, Dolly reached under the bed, her hand feeling around for the rope. She grasped it. She gently rolled toward Mark. He slept on his side. Her heart pounding, she placed the loops over his wrists and over the bed posts. She tightened them. She did it so delicately, the movement didn't awaken him.
She waited for him to wake up, staring at his closed eyelids. Her pussy moistened in anticipation, and she got impatient. She whispered in his ear.
"Are you ticklish?"
She kissed his neck, lightly...a tickling feeling.
Mark tried to rub it but realized he couldn't move his wrist to reach it. He rolled on his back.
"Hey, what's going on?" Mark asked, suddenly alarmed at his bizarre situation. The first thought that crossed his mind was that he couldn't stop her from tickling him.
"I'm going to tickle you," she said, confirming his thinking.
"What? Untie me."
"Nope. Not until you find out what it feels like. Tickle, tickle, tickle," Dolly said as her fingers got closer and closer.
"Mark laughed even before she started tickling, and he laughed even harder when her fingers collided with his ribs and arm pits.
Mark knew he deserved it. His boner rose in frustration. He thrashed. He begged. He loved it. He desperately wanted it to stop, but part of him hoped she would keep tickling him forever. She sat on him. Teased him with her tits. She turned around, showing him her fat ass while she tickled his groin and testicles.
"Kiss my butt and I'll think about stopping."
He kissed the cheek between guffaws.
"Not that part of my butt."
His lips met her crack.
"Ok, I think you've learned your lesson."
Mark felt relieved. Dolly put his penis between her cleavage and rubbed it with her soft pillowy breasts. Her pointy nipples brushed against the sides of his pubic area. Back and forth, back and forth. Her nipples were tickling him. Mark bit his cheek, tried hard not to laugh...but burst out in loud giggling. The soft boobies squeezed his penis, while the nipples tickled his groin, a simultaneous pleasure and torture. Semen exploded and Mark kept giggling.
Dolly untied Mark. Though she was no longer tickling him, he was still laughing. He couldn't go to church that day. he erupted in laughter every time Dolly looked at him.
Every night, Doris took off her corset and let him see her naked before she put out the lamp. This was enough to give him an erection. He often played with her breasts under the covers--caressing, massaging, sucking--for almost an hour, making her so aroused that she came quickly when he penetrated her.
Mark always thought of tickling when he masturbated or while he humped Dolly. There was something about the involuntary laughter, the loss of control, and the inability to stop the sensation that excited him. At a young age he had witnessed a woman wrestler taking on all comers at a traveling carnival. She pinned several males from the audience one at a time, even though all 3 were larger and heavier than her. He imagined this woman wrestler tickling the men and being tickled and constant laughter rang inside his head until he would ejaculate.
One warm June evening, he tickled Dolly's tummy while he played with her tits. Dolly was extremely ticklish and laughed in surprise. It was just a brief tickle. But the next night, he tickled her again...this time a little longer. She laughed and said "cut it out." And on the following night, he tickled still longer.
"Why are you tickling me?" she asked, finally grabbing his wrists to stop him. Mark didn't answer and couldn't explain his reasoning.
The next night, Dolly warned him, "no tickling," before he got in the bed. She turned away from him and they spooned while he caressed a breast. She got wet and turned toward him. He sat on her and started tickling her nipples. Loud laughter shot through the dark house. They discovered her nipples were the most ticklish part of her body, even more than her arm pits, belly, and feet.
"I said no tickling. I can't stand it," Dolly said.
But she kept giggling and her demand didn't sound serious to Mark. He was taller and much stronger than Dolly and he pinned both of her hands with one elbow while he relentlessly tickled her nipples.
"Tickle, tickle...tickle, tickle...tickle, tickle...tickle, tickle...tickle, tickle, tickle," Mark kept saying while his fingers raced over her pointy nipples. Dolly couldn't stop laughing. She felt frustrated at being over powered and panic over the thought that Mark might never stop. Nevertheless, the sensation sent a tingling feeling from her breasts to her clitoris and she realized she'd had an orgasm. This made her even more ticklish. When Mark stopped, she wanted more.
"Lie on your back, you big bully," she said.
Mark did and for the first time, she rode him in the female superior posture, her boobs hovering over him. They were so heavy.
For a few weeks their house was the scene of nightly nipple tickling. Dolly no longer objected, but instead submitted, resigned to her husband's domineering habit. Women were little more than slaves to their husbands then, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Dolly went to a woman's suffrage meeting on a Saturday afternoon, and a speaker lamented the state of woman's rights, using the metaphor "in chains." This gave Dolly an idea. She thought of Mark being in chains and how she could turn the tables on him. She wanted to make him feel helpless, like he made her feel. She went home and unhooked the clothes line in the backyard, rolled it up and carried it inside, hiding it under the bed. She thought for a moment, then took the rope and measured where Mark slept, and practiced making loops, pretending that she had Mark tied. She left the loops and placed the rope under the bed again.
That night, she tickled Mark back during foreplay, catching him off guard, and he laughed. Dolly was gratified to discover that he was also ticklish. The brief tickle seemed to make him harder. During intercourse she fantasized having Mark helpless.
Dolly stayed awake all night, uncertain whether to dare tie Mark down while he slept. How would he react? She thought of the little tickle she gave him during foreplay, and his response. She wanted to give him more than just a little tickle.
Around dawn, the black night gave way to the beginning light of morning. Carefully, Dolly reached under the bed, her hand feeling around for the rope. She grasped it. She gently rolled toward Mark. He slept on his side. Her heart pounding, she placed the loops over his wrists and over the bed posts. She tightened them. She did it so delicately, the movement didn't awaken him.
She waited for him to wake up, staring at his closed eyelids. Her pussy moistened in anticipation, and she got impatient. She whispered in his ear.
"Are you ticklish?"
She kissed his neck, lightly...a tickling feeling.
Mark tried to rub it but realized he couldn't move his wrist to reach it. He rolled on his back.
"Hey, what's going on?" Mark asked, suddenly alarmed at his bizarre situation. The first thought that crossed his mind was that he couldn't stop her from tickling him.
"I'm going to tickle you," she said, confirming his thinking.
"What? Untie me."
"Nope. Not until you find out what it feels like. Tickle, tickle, tickle," Dolly said as her fingers got closer and closer.
"Mark laughed even before she started tickling, and he laughed even harder when her fingers collided with his ribs and arm pits.
Mark knew he deserved it. His boner rose in frustration. He thrashed. He begged. He loved it. He desperately wanted it to stop, but part of him hoped she would keep tickling him forever. She sat on him. Teased him with her tits. She turned around, showing him her fat ass while she tickled his groin and testicles.
"Kiss my butt and I'll think about stopping."
He kissed the cheek between guffaws.
"Not that part of my butt."
His lips met her crack.
"Ok, I think you've learned your lesson."
Mark felt relieved. Dolly put his penis between her cleavage and rubbed it with her soft pillowy breasts. Her pointy nipples brushed against the sides of his pubic area. Back and forth, back and forth. Her nipples were tickling him. Mark bit his cheek, tried hard not to laugh...but burst out in loud giggling. The soft boobies squeezed his penis, while the nipples tickled his groin, a simultaneous pleasure and torture. Semen exploded and Mark kept giggling.
Dolly untied Mark. Though she was no longer tickling him, he was still laughing. He couldn't go to church that day. he erupted in laughter every time Dolly looked at him.
