Prelude to a Tickle
we laughed like a couple of naughty kids while he tied my wrists together. I kept looking at his face... watching his expression change from 'boy with a new toy' to 'all powerful tickler' and then back again. my heart was already pounding and he hadn't even touched me yet. how I trust him... how I adore him... these thoughts were running through my head as he pushed me down onto the bed and held my tightly wrapped wrists over my head. that boyish look on his face was all gone now. I giggled nervously. my man was like a locomotive now.... there would be no stopping him.
his face inches from mine, he asked me... "are you mine?". this was to be my last chance for an out. he knew I would never take it... but as always, I hesitated. fear and need wrestled for a brief moment. "yes, I am yours" I answered, and then closed my eyes. I could hear his breathing becoming deeper... slower... while my own seemed to have
stopped. once I was securely tied to the head board he paused. I knew he was watching me... watching me fight panic... watching me let go.
an eternity passed before I felt his hands slide from my wrists and then down my arms. I jerked instinctively and he chuckled. "first things first", he let his fingertips brush my neck... and slowly began to unbutton my blouse. he took his time, knowing that with every second that passed my anticipation was growing. this was torture... my god, how I needed him to touch me.
my blouse open now, he pushed down my camisole. I felt so exposed... so vulnerable. the urge to cover myself seemed so silly but was very real. until, that is... I felt his mouth. immediately I was lost. my body stiffening and relaxing somehow at the exact same time. then I felt his fingers... digging... crawling up my sides. not wanting his mouth to leave me, I tried so hard to be still. my hands frantic for something to grab onto but finding only the rope. "please... oh god, pleeaase! stop! no no... wait... don't...", I was torn between two powerful desires and being consumed by them both. "ssshhhh", he whispered in my ear and kissed my neck.
leaving me lying there... panting... blushing... he got up from the bed and pulled off his belt. he wore a slow easy grin as he tied my ankle to the foot board. he then used his necktie to secure the other. standing at the side of bed he inspected his work. "you are beautiful", he said simply. I smiled... owning my shame, my lust... my love, my fear. I was his... and that was all that mattered.
closing my eyes once again, I waited for his touch. at last I felt both of his strong hands on one of my feet. his thumbs pressed against center he dug in... scratching and sliding against the fabric of my nylons with his thumbnails. the rush that shot through my body was intense. there was nothing in the entire world except for that all consuming feeling. slowly I realized that he was no longer tickling me... simply holding my foot in his hands... and that I was shrieking. before I could calm myself I felt his warm, wet mouth on my toes. my shriek was transformed into a moan... my body still jerking from the assault on my senses.
I watched him climb onto me. our eyes locked, "tell me", he said... "please", I whispered buying a few precious seconds of rest, "please... please, tickle me". my own personal victory... I can say it to him... I can ask him... he knows...
