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Funny Business

Category: Fetish
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The door to his room was ajar, but she knocked anyway, because she didn’t want to surprise him, especially if he were in some kind of compromising situation. She heard a distant “Come in!”, and she closed the door behind her. “I’m back here,” she heard next, and walked back to the bedroom in the suite.

The door was closed, which she found odd. Still, she knocked again. The “Come in!” was stronger this time.

When she opened the door, the sight that greeted her stupefied her for a full minute. She stood there, her jaws dropped, her eyes bulging at the sight before her. He was in his skivvies – black – but nothing else, stretched across his bed, his ankles and one wrist restrained. And if she wasn’t mistaken, his boxers were a little bit fuller than she had supposed they would be.


Apparently the power of speech had deserted her for the moment, so she walked over, and he smiled at her. She tried again.


Clearly twenty questions wasn’t going to cut it, so she cut to the chase, because she had an idea that he might want her to move to the next level in their friendship. And she knew exactly what she would do to cross the line into new territory. She was going to get him to want her to make him come till he was empty.

She was a novice at the whole tickling to arouse gig, but she was sure she could at least get a rise out of him, and then, if push came to shove, she’d tickle him with other wetter body parts until she got what they both wanted him to have.

She put her pocketbook down, and feeling his eyes on her as she slipped her shoes off, she had another idea. If she blindfolded him, he’d enter this without the use of a primary sense, and maybe she could raise the arousal bar, so to speak.

“Where’s your tie?” she asked, right after she secured his unshackled wrist, and when he told her, she got it and asked him to close his eyes. Then she secured the tie over them, asking him to open them.

“Can you see anything?”

“No, not a thing,” he answered, and his voice was a bit breathier than it had been before. She hoped that meant he was turned on, even a little bit.


She rubbed her hands together and cracked the knuckles, and then she began to explore him. She started at his feet, running the edge of her nail along their edges, then sliding her hands toward the middle, then trailing from toe to heel and back. And every change in position brought a fresh giggle. When she deepened the pressure just a hair, the giggle became a laugh, and when she trailed the fingers up one leg, he squirmed and laughed harder. She deployed both hands, and the laughter became continuous as she strolled her fingertips up and down the inside of his thighs. When she approached his cock, it jerked, and by the time she was tickling his thighs in earnest, it had stiffened to attention.

She wanted to reward him, and hoped she wouldn’t derail her plan in doing so. She tickled him where his balls ended and his arse began. She hoped, because that little stretch of skin was tender and sensitive on her, that it would be so for him as well. If the moaning laugh she got was any indication, it was. She used two fingers, and he laughed harder. One hand at his balls, the other just at the spot where thigh meets body, and he was laughing so hard his body shook.

And his cock was lying stiff as a poker, the head peeking out at the top of his boxers. She felt herself get wetter, looking at it, even though it was still mostly covered by black material. The peeping tip made her lick her lips, and she changed her game plan just for a moment so she could tickle it with her tongue. A feather-soft touch with her tongue around the head, coupled with the tickling of his thighs, and he couldn’t decide whether to moan or laugh.

She left his second head and traveled up to his sides, where she renewed her tickling efforts. He became incoherent by the time she had explored his sides, his armpits, and was at his neck, loving the way he begged her to stop, because she knew he wanted her to keep him on the edge by not stopping. She tickled his neck, first with her fingers, and then, when she wanted to use them on his armpits again, with the tip of her tongue.

Tears had been running down his cheeks as she had been tickling her way up his body, and she noticed them finally, because she tasted them as she lick-tickled him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, suddenly worried she had gone too far.

He heaved a deep breath and said, “Yes.” Another breath, then, “Don’t stop. Please!”

He couldn’t see her, but if he could, he would have seen her smile. She kissed his lips lightly instead, to show him how pleased she was that he was pleased with her efforts. And then she started again…


The second time around, she started at his ears, which she had neglected the first time around. She wondered if his earlobes might be ticklish. She licked each in turn, and he released a sigh, but when she licked him behind each one, he chuckled, so she did it again, and nipped your lobes, just because. No one said all she had to do was tickle him…well, he hadn’t said it, so she thought she’d improvise.

Next was the hollow of his throat, after a thorough investigation of the rest of his neck by her fingertips. He giggled when she did that, but when she got to that little hollow, and lick-tickled him, he laughed. Hmmm…another sweet spot, eh? She did it again, and again, loving the laughter spilling out of him.

She thought it might be sexy to tickle his sides while she licked that hollow, so she did. Oooh boy, that got him going even more, and she was getting wetter and wetter by the second, wanting to do naughty, nasty, sweaty things to him. She wanted him to tickle her wet places, too, but she wanted to be an unselfish tickler…dared she say “lover”? That was a word she wasn’t keen to use unless he used it, so she kept “tickler” in her head. It would do anyway, as she was so turned on, her pussy lips were probably glistening.

She wondered what would happen if she added words to her efforts. Nothing beats a trial but a failure, they say, so she tried. Reaching down to his groin, she whispered in his ear,

“Would you like me to tickle you inside these tightie whities?”

She ignored the fact that they were black, telling herself that it was the idea that counted. He didn’t respond, just kept laughing as she tickled around his belly button.

“No answer? I’ll take that as a yes, then, shall I?”

She dropped her voice on the last sentence, working to make it sultry, like a hot desert wind in his ear. And as she stopped speaking, she plunged her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers and tickled her way down from where the head of his cock peeked out at her to where his balls ended. Then she came back up.

His laughter became strained, no doubt because he wanted her to touch his straining length. She wanted that too…but she could wait, because she wanted him to come first. She saw the pearl of precum at the tip, and she renewed her efforts…


His body rose to her touch as she took his cock in her hand. She slid her hand up the shaft, teasing the tip with her fingertip. His body tensed painfully as a result of that shock of intense pleasure. Swirling her finger in the pre-cum, she used it to lubricate the tip of his rod and the shaft below. As she slid her hand up and down his length, each time tarrying at the tip, he moved with her. His movements were nearly frantic.

By now, he was rock hard and caught between those almost violently conflicting sentiments — the desire for the pleasure of release versus the desire to prolong the pleasure.

She made that decision for him and removed her hand from his body. Instead, she leaned down so that her lips were brushing against his. They kissed, briefly, passionately. His arms pulled desperately against the restraints in a vain attempt to take her in his arms.

“These restraints are delightfully effective,” she teased as she started lightly tickling his neck, causing him to giggle uncontrollably as he tried to protect his neck with his chin. It was an utterly wasted effort.

“Your chin can’t protect you here,” she taunted him as her fingers suddenly and vigorously tickled his sides. Taken by surprise, he thrashed about, laughing wildly. She stopped as suddenly as she had began.

“I suppose I should be nice,” she said, returning her hand to his cock, which was throbbing hard. He gasped involuntarily. The pleasure built as her hand slipped up and down the shaft, each time rolling over the hypersensitive tip. His whole body trembled in response to her touch.

“You love it when I touch you this way, don’t you?” she asked, clearly pleased.

“Oh God, yes!” he responded, shuddering.

“I love having this power over your body. I love the way your body responds to my touch.”

She lightly tickled his balls with her fingernails, causing him to laugh sharply and nearly leap out of his skin.

She began to stroke him again. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” he gasped.

“And I have the power to make you come, don’t I?” she continued, relentlessly winding him up with her strokes.

“Pleeaase…” He had been reduced to pleading, but he didn’t care.

She began to stroke his length more quickly, applying more pressure. His body moved more quickly, as if he were trying to stroke himself against her hand. She knew that he was very close, and as her hand moved even faster, she leaned in and commanded him, in a low, breathy voice,

“Come for me!”

As if he could resist! The pleasure crescendoed to the point of no return and, with a cry, he climaxed, shooting cum into her hand and onto his stomach. His cock continued to throb as the ejaculations subsided, becoming so sensitive that her touch was essentially painful. Sensing this, she stopped, leaned over, and kissed him gently, as he gasped for air.

“You were mine, weren’t you, for a little while?” she inquired, supremely pleased with herself.

“Without a doubt!” he agreed.

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