Every since my first munch when Fireguy put the idea into my
head, I’ve wanted to be tied to another girl, so when I found out that Mr. and
Mrs. Sweetface had a rope scene in the works, I didn’t hold back a single
little ounce of my eagerness to join them. (Hard to believe I recently spent a
couple of days crying about being called pushy…it seems to serve me okay.) They
were getting ready to play in the tiny living room on the red plush recliners
and when he came to invite me over, I said “Yesyesyesyes ohyes!” and had my bra
off before I crossed the room. (Surprised it had stayed on as long as it did!)
I couldn’t believe my luck. She’s so cute and bubbly and has
a goofy sense of humor just like I do and I! Was going! To be! Tied to her! She
left on her shiny dark-silver bra and panties, and I was down to my peach and
purple polka dot undies. While he started her harness, she scrolled through the
radio stations on the TV, landing on “Hits of the Nineties” And by “Hits of the
Nineties,” they did not mean dignified alt-hits like “Cut Your Hair,” or
“Cannonball,” we’re talking full on “Oops, I Did It Again.” I don’t know why, but this made things more
awesome.
I loved dancing around and singing with her while
occasionally being admonished to be still by our top and watching the comings
and goings of the party guests. Cacophony kept coming up from the karaoke-ing
basement, lending to the overall atmosphere of joy and mirth.
Once he finished weaving her into her shiny purple harness,
it was my turn. The ropes he used on me were peacock blue. I was soready. My
nipples were alert in that ultrasensitive way they only get for ropes, sending
tingles all through me ever time the rope or his hand even lightly brushed
against them. I didn’t get all surrender-y the way that I sometimes do for
ropes, but sometimes he’d tug at them in just such a way that peace would
radiate through me from that spot, and aah, sigh, a reunion, oh ropes, I always
miss you.
Much was made of the fact that I like to have an ass-knot in
addition to the clit knot, thank you very much!
I wasn’t subby-dreamy-drowsy, I was exultant, and when he
looped another length of rope underneath both of our crotches and started tying
us together, I got intoxicated by the smell of her—there are never adequate
adjectives to describe the smell of a girl’s hair, and besides that sweetness
there was sweat, and alcohol, and some girly soap, the smells of happy
aliveness. I put my arms around her and we danced around like slumber party
girls, to the tune of “Roller Coaster of Love,” which I don’t think I ever
properly appreciated before.
We sat together on one of the two big red recliners, the two
of us girls in Mr. Sweetface’s lap. I was the boldest and most handsy character
in that chair. As we settled into cuddling and petting, many hands were many
places, but my fingers went right for her panties, found her clit beneath them,
toyed with it alternately with hand and rope. She moaned and rocked, and I
worked my way inside her bra, first with my hand and then my face, licking and
nuzzling, finding what I was looking for. I reached around and unhooked her
bra, and even though I couldn’t get it all the way off, I made her just as
naked as I possibly could. It was a good long time until I finally kissed her
on the mouth, soft and perfect, and then kissed him too. They kissed alike,
searching and cautious, friendly and sensual. She told me later that I’d been
her first girl kiss, and I was honored. I should stop going around assuming
everybody’s always kissing everybody, I guess.
She grabbed the ropes at my hips so that the crotch rope,
with its lovely knots, did just what it was meant to, which was turn me into a
moany writhey animal-thing. They both looked a little taken aback.
“Ohyeah, I’m really loud.” I explained, super-unnecessarily,
and I didn’t get any quieter when they went for my boobs, a mouth on each one,
my favorite, favorite thing. Well, one of the favorites.
Next: Spanks, more songs, and goodbyes.
No comments:
Post a Comment