Steve woke with a start. Someone was making coffee and bacon for breakfast, and it smelled heavenly. It reminded him of home. He glanced at the clock and saw that is was eight thirty, much too early to get up.
Gradually he became aware of some strange sounds. Faint banging, pots and pans moving around, the thudding and squeaking of cabinet doors being opened and closed. Then he realized it was right in his own apartment. Gradually his memory came back. The gig at the family party, a luscious young lady.
"It must be her," he thought to himself, "making breakfast. Christ, what's her name? Susan? No, Robin. Wait. Something that ends with 'ian.' Vivian. Yes, that's it."
He staggered out of bed and made a beeline for the bathroom. A quick shower cleared the cobwebs from his brain. He was wrapped in a towel and not quite dry as he circled around through the living room to the kitchen, anxious to see if she was really as cute as he remembered her to be.
"Good morning, Vivian. You didn't have to do all this."
"Morning, lover boy."
He gave her a kiss, then another, longer and with real passion.
"Mmmm. Very nice. Really, I don't get the chance to cook like this at school, living in the dorm. It's my treat."
"It smells great. Did you find everything?"
"No problem. I thought men who lived alone never kept anything except beer in the house."
"I pride myself in being different."
"You can say that again. Here, let's eat."
They took their breakfast out and ate on the lanai, overlooking the golf course and the mountains beyond. Steve rolled down a bamboo shade to ward off the early morning sun.
"I see my towels fit you."
"Yes. I didn't pack for an overnighter, and that gown is a bit too formal for breakfast."
"I wouldn't have minded."
"And you wouldn't be able to keep your hands off of me in it!"
"You're right, of course. The sin of lust."
"If last night was a sin, then let me burn in hell. You were wonderful."
"Thank you. You were, too."
"Where did you learn to do that? I've never heard of sex like that."
"Oh, I just picked it up here and there," Steve replied, trying to sound casual. "I'm a Pisces, and Pisces are very creative people. Lots of imagination."
"Leo here. But I don't attach much meaning to that stuff."
"Actually, I have done this sort of thing once or twice, but never with a girl like you. I've never met anyone like you. With you it just, well, kind of all came together. Perhaps we could try it again sometime?"
"Well, actually, I'm afraid not. I hate to say this, but I have to go back to school. I leave tomorrow morning."
Steve's heart sank in despair. Here at last was the kind of woman he had dreamed of -- smart, attractive, and willing to play -- but it was only to be a one night stand.
"I wish that wasn't so. I hope you understand. I'll be back for the summer, though."
Steve did not miss the hopeful look in her eyes, and some of his frustration dropped away.
"Well, yes, I know how important school is. And to spend some time off this rock. Here, I'll jot down my address and phone number. Drop a card when you get there."
They finished up their meal, chatting about college life, then sat sipping coffee, in no great hurry to move.
"Steve, why did you tickle me so much?"
"Oh, I guess because it turns me on."
"I noticed you liked my dress. Would you have noticed me if I wasn't wearing it?"
"A naked young lady at the hotel. Sure, I'd notice that!"
"No, silly, you know what I mean!"
"Well, honestly, I might not have. Except that you are very attractive, so I might have noticed you anyway."
"My dress felt really good on without underwear. I never thought about trying it that way."
"I have this fantasy about dresses like yours, that it tickles a woman to wear it that way. Like I said, I love to tickle a woman, so to think that a woman is being constantly tickled by what she has on also turns me on."
"Interesting," said Vivian. "To me it doesn't really tickle, it just feels really nice. I guess it is sort of like tickling, now that you mention it. Not that I would burst out laughing, but it is similar."
"Yeah, I know. It's not as strong as having feathers brushed over you skin, but it does have a special kind of sensual feeling."
"I began to get the feeling that you enjoyed watching me suffer. Are you that sadistic?"
"Well, to me it's a matter of degree. Real pain, like some of the S&M types go in for, doesn't turn me on. Pain, degrading acts, none of that stuff excites me. I did have a girlfriend once who liked being spanked, and I did it to please her, but it bothered me to be hurting her that way."
Steve hoped his use of past tense was convincing. It was a lie, but he doubted that Vivian wanted to know that she wasn't his only partner.
"It was," Vivian began, stopping to search for the right word. "It was excruciating. I was going absolutely crazy, but somehow it also felt good. I've never been tied up before, and it was like, well, like submitting to whatever you were going to do to me. Kind of scary, but I could tell that you weren't going to hurt me."
"I would never do anything to hurt you. Tell me, what made you decide to give it a try?"
"Well, I think the turning point was at the restaurant, when you suggested that I take off my underwear. I was a little shocked, but I suddenly realized that it might be kind of fun. I sort of wanted to see how you'd react. Then, when I did it, it turned out that you were right. It felt so good, really sensual. That's when I knew you were onto something.
"Later, on the beach, when you started to tickle my ribs, that really turned me on. I didn't want you to stop. I haven't been tickled like that in years, long before I learned what sex is all about. Funny how well those two things go together."
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," said Steve. "I agree, they go together very well."
"At first I thought maybe you were one of those real domineering types," Vivian continued. "You know what I mean? They boss you around, make you go naked around the house and wait on them hand and foot."
"Oh yeah! A B&D type. Really? What made you think that?"
"When you suggested I take off my underwear. And again, later, on the beach, when you wouldn't stop tickling me. Only, you weren't really demanding about it or anything. That's why I thought it was OK."
"You're right, I'm not into that kind of domination. I like a free spirit, a woman who acts on her own, of her own accord. I don't like to boss them around and humiliate them."
"Did you enjoy tying me up?"
"Yes."
"Why?" she asked, sounding smug, like Perry Mason catching a witness contradicting themselves on the witness stand.
Steve found himself struggling not to sound defensive.
"More than anything, because I could tickle you more that way."
"What was it about tickling me that you liked?"
Steve thought she was beginning to sound like a shrink.
"Watching you suffer the agony of intense stimulation that you are powerless to stop. And the sound. I love the sound of a woman laughing, the helpless laughter that accompanies a good tickling."
"Isn't making someone suffer a form of domination?" Vivian asked, her voice touched with indignation.
"Vivian, please, I'm not trying to play word games with you. Domination and aggression are basic human feelings, and sex is something that gets tangled up with all kinds of emotions. Different people have different needs, and those needs will vary from time to time.
"What really turns me on is knowing that my partner is turned on. I have this infatuation with dresses like you wore because I like to think that they are sensual, that they feel sexy. And it seems to me that to a lot of women they do.
"I was going crazy watching you from the band stand, and I was in heaven when we were walking along the beach, knowing that you were naked under your dress and that you liked the sensation. In my fantasies, I imagine that a dress like yours can tickle a woman so much that she can hardly resist the urge to giggle, that if it tickled any more she would rip the dress off rather than endure it. But there, alone with you, I was so excited that I forgot all of that. I mean, I was excited about how beautiful you looked and what you were wearing, but at the same time my mind was kind of foggy. I wanted to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming, because it was too exquisite to be real.
"But I would never force you to do that, to dress a particular way. A B&D type gets their kicks out of demanding that their partner do things like that, and the submissive partner gets their enjoyment from being bossed around and punished. I was not punishing you, even when I tied you up. I just wanted to drive you out of your mind with pleasure. Pleasure spiced with a little agony, a pinch of torture. Spanking is perhaps a more common form of that, but I happen to like tickling."
Vivian had listened to him intently, and seemed much more relaxed when he had finished his soliloquy.
"Yes, that did feel good. More than good. While we were walking on the beach I was so wet I was worried it would start running down my leg. The more we walked the better it felt. The dress, I mean. All over my body, cool and silky, touching every sensitive place with the most erotic feelings. I wanted you so much that I was ready to pull you down on top of me right there on the sand!"
Steve felt his face burn and knew that he must be flushed crimson. He tried to say something, but could only manage a giggle.
"Talk about suffering!" she went on. "It was murder waiting to get to your place. And then you wanted to play some more. That really confused me. I mean, all I really wanted to do was jump into bed and fuck ourselves silly, but the more you tickled me the more I liked it. It was so surprisingly erotic. I thought I was turned on, but I kept getting hotter and hotter, in a way that I've never felt before.
"Then you suggested tying me up. That scared me, but what you had been doing was so good that I thought it might even get better. And, I liked you, and thought it would please you. So I said yes. And that was the most mind blowing experience of my life! I wanted you to stop yet I didn't. And the funny thing is, the more you tickled me, the stronger the feelings were from the dress. Like on the beach, but stronger, every nerve ending touched by the qiana zapped with a jolt of pleasure. At that point it really was like your fantasy. The closest way to describe it was that the dress tickled me all over. Then, when I was on the verge of saying uncle, you started to tickle my cunt, and it was like before only more so. It was unbearable and wonderful at the same time."
Vivian paused to sip her coffee, but she held his gaze over the top of her cup, as if searching for some response from him.
"Gee, for a while there I thought you had decided you hadn't enjoyed it after all."
That was all Steve had time for, as Vivian dove in again to her replay of the evening.
"Like I said, I've never done anything like this, and I was unsure. Call it doubtful. But for some reason I trusted you. Anyway, by that point my reservations had evaporated. I felt really delirious. I guess I just abandoned myself to the feelings, being bound and helpless and forced to wait while you tormented me. Gosh that sounds awful, but it was really very good.
"Then you finally let me down, and I was so relieved. But then you tied my wrists to that beam. Right then I was really frustrated, because I wanted to hold you and do something to pleasure you. Then you came inside me, and I was relieved again. But then you started to tickle me again. Talk about an emotional roller coaster! But I must say, that's an incredible combination."
Hearing Vivian's confession had aroused Steve terribly, to the point where his dick was rock hard and throbbing. He had never met a woman who spoke so frankly about enjoying his brand of love play. He wanted her, totally. Not just for the moment, but forever. Knowing that she was flying back to the mainland was eating a hole in his gut.
"By the way, Steve, do you like being tied up, too?"
"Oh yes! Very much."
Steve suddenly had hopes that this might lead to an interesting after-breakfast treat, and was delighted at the prospect of teaching Vivian how to tease his cock with her dress.
"And tickled?" she asked, with an impish grin.
"Well, yes and no. I must admit that I like doing the tickling more than being tickled, but I like it. What I really like is the feeling of a dress like yours rubbing against my dick."
"You mean you like to wear ladies' clothes?" she asked with great surprise.
"No no no, not that. That doesn't do a thing for me. No, what I mean is that I like the feeling of the fabric. Like if we were in bed and you took your dress and dragged it over my body. Especially over my dick."
"Oh, I see. Can you come that way?"
"Well, why don't we give it a try, and find out?"
"Mmmm. I'd like to tie you naked to that beam and tease you with my dress. For a very long time. Or better yet, get a big piece of the same fabric from a yardage store and use that while I wore my dress, so that you could think about what I'm feeling while I tease you. I'd make you suffer like you did me. Would you like that?"
Steve was breathless. His head was reeling. What she was describing was exactly what Carol did, and it always took him to extreme heights of pleasure. But it would be so much better with Vivian, not just because she was so young and tender but because she actually enjoyed letting him tickle her. His thoughts raced with how to respond. Should he produce the qiana skirt Carol had sewn for him and suggest they try it? He thought that would seem too contrived. She could use her dress on him, but he didn't want to squirt cum all over it when it was all she had to wear. He was painfully aware of what was becoming a pregnant pause in their conversation, and didn't want to sound so taken aback. Lacking a plan, he blurted out a lame response.
"That would be wonderful!"
He mentally kicked himself for not saying something better, but her words had caught him completely off guard.
"I think you have a good attitude," she said matter-of-factly. "A friend of mine at school started dating a guy who is really into B&D stuff, and the stories she tells sound awful to me."
"Really? You're kidding. Tell me."
"Well, there's this club, sort of. Three guys who share a big old house. They do things together, like making the girls go naked all weekend, except for a collar, like a dog. And they take turns punishing them. They actually beat them with whips and paddles. And they all share the women. Some days he makes her wear things under her clothes to school, like a leather harness that squeezes her nipples and pulls up hard between her legs. He even attaches a dildo to it and takes her out for a walk until she comes that way.
"It makes me sick just thinking about it, but she is crazy about this guy. She told me she's going to get her nipples pierced, so she can wear rings in them. She hasn't told him; she wants it to be a surprise."
"I see. I think it's nice that she feels that she can confide in you. But if what she tells you is upsetting to hear, you might suggest that she not be so explicit. If she really enjoys that kind of treatment, let her. She's an adult now, old enough to make her own choices. Like I said, different people have different needs.
"You might suggest that she not do anything so radical as having her nipples pierced. I mean, if she gets tired of this guy she can give up wearing dildos to class, but it's kind of hard to do anything about holes in your tits. If she respects you enough to confide in you, she will more than likely heed your advice.
"You know, this may shock you, but there are lots of people who live that way and love every minute of it. For one thing, you mustn't confuse B&D with an abusive spouse, a wife beater. Those guys are out of control. They get angry, usually drunk or high on something, then turn on their wives and beat them up. Black eyes, cracked ribs, serious stuff with no connection to sex play. True B&D practitioners use pain and humiliation as a part of sex play. They love their partners, and are very protective of them. Most of what they do is symbolic, a kind of role playing game. What your friend has no doubt discovered is that, for her, having her butt paddled until it is red leads to fantastic sex. That's entirely different from having your nose broken.
"Yeah, I never thought of it that way," Vivian said.
"This may sound strange, but your friend may enjoy those weekends at the house because of the constant attention she gets there. Her boyfriend probably acts bigger than life, and she gets all of his attention, hour after hour. Attention laced with sex. Kind of like the way you felt last night on the beach."
"Oh my gosh, look at the time. I really must be going. Excuse me while I change."
Steve sighed in despair as he watched her go inside, frustrated that there would be no more playing. She reappeared a minute later dressed in her gown.
"You look so sad!" Vivian exclaimed.
"Gee, I thought we were going to..." he began.
"Shit! Is that all you ever think about? Come on, there's a whole day just waiting outside. And I really do have to get going. Besides, I'm still sore from last night, ya big ox."
She laughed as she pulled a brush from her purse and started fiddling with her hair. It looked to Steve like she was not wearing much under the dress.
"Shall I give you a ride home?"
"No, I think that would create too much of a furor. I'll take a cab. That will be bad enough."
They embraced one more time, their parting kiss long and warm. Steve mustered all his will power and avoided tickling her.
Then she was gone. He sat at the table on the lanai, rolling over in his mind the events of last night and this morning. His memory of her magnificent performance, and their frank talk about it just now, left him terribly horny.
He had nothing to do that day, no place to rush off to. He decided to bask in the pleasure of sex one more time, alone with his memories. He went to the closet and pulled out a full length sheer black nylon nightgown, stripped down naked, and sprawled out on his bed. His cock was hard in an instant.
He carefully laid a single layer of the sheer black fabric over his cock, pulling it down and holding it in place with his left hand. Then he laid a second layer over that, clutching the end of his cock with his fingertips and twisting the fabric until it slid smoothly over the layer underneath.
Then he let him self go, stroking his cock, rubbing the outer layer of sheer nylon over the inner one. The sensation was very intense, much more so than when he used vasoline. He knew how to regulate the action so that he could keep it up for an hour or more. This he did, turning his thoughts from one woman to another, one fantasy after another.
When his thoughts came to rest on the three young girls at last night's gig his cock swelled as if it would explode. Steve was not normally drawn to young girls, but those three had struck a nerve. Perhaps his unfulfilled desires from all those years when he was their age and longed to tickle a girl had been trigged by the sight of them, dressed just as so many women he had tickled had been. His mind filled with pleasure as he imagined them in Vivian's place, there in his apartment. In truth, such a thing would be unspeakable, but as a fantasy it aroused him in an altogether different way.
He began with them all strung up the way Vivian had been, naked under their nylon jersey dresses, tickling each in turn. He had never done it with more than one woman, and liked the idea that he could tickle one to exhaustion, then continue with the next girl while her friend recovered. Around and around he would go, a non-stop tickling marathon.
The idea that they were all quite innocent about sex also filled him with lust. He tried to imagine their look of surprise the first time he pushed their dress between their legs and tickled their cunt. He would give each of them their first orgasm by rubbing their dresses over sheer nylon, using a pair of panties that tied on with ribbons at the sides that he kept for just that reason.
For their second orgasm, each girl would be tied naked to his coffee table, just as Teddi had been, her legs spread wide and high by ropes tied to the overhead trellis. Like Teddi, her only stimulation would be her dress, dragged between her legs and over her breasts. He loved to imagine how they would scream when the jersey hit their clit, flooding them with tickling, pleasure and pain too intense to endure without being restrained. Like every woman he had done it to, they had no desire for him to stop, only that he let them come again. This he withheld, for as long as he could, stopping whenever they seemed ready to explode and giving in to their craving for release only when he thought they truly could not stand any more.
After awhile his conscience began to override his pleasure. His guilt at dreaming about sex with such young girls began to distract him, so much that he started to lose his erection. Searching for safer ground, he called up one of his old stand-bys, a fantasy about a Chinese beauty queen. She was in a parade, seated high in the back of a big convertible, smiling and waving at the crowd as the car moved slowly along. Under her satin cheongsam she wore a bra and panties made of latex. The bra cups were lined with sharp rubber teeth that dug painfully into her breasts and nipples. Similar teeth dug into her crotch and rubbed her clit. A pair of dildos molded into the crotch filled her cunt and anus, vibrating silently. She had no choice but to wait for the parade to end before she could remove them, and every few blocks her body shuddered as an orgasm swept through her. The combination of unstoppable pain and intense pleasure brought tears to her eyes, which made them sparkle, further enhancing her beauty.
It was an old fantasy, one that he had erupted to countless times. This time, instead of imagining her forced to endure this treatment, he imagined that she did it because she wanted to, and that only he knew what she was doing.
In the end his strongest fantasy involved Vivian, hanging by her wrists in her black evening gown. He tickled her for a long time, and as the time passed she became more and more ticklish, until just the feel of the gown on her skin was more than she could bear. All he had to do was brush his fingertips ever so lightly over the smooth, slinky nylon and she would explode in peels of helpless laughter. Then he started to tickle her cunt, which tickled her even more. He kept at it for a long time, just a few light caresses, then a little pause, so she couldn't come. She was desperate, begging him not to stop, to let her come. Finally he gave in, touching her there as lightly as possible so that it tickled as much as he could make it.
His orgasm was hers. Just as he felt himself ready to come he pulled off the nylon, letting the juice squirt high up into the air, falling all over his belly in big silvery blobs. He quickly brushed his fingers in it and ran them over the tip of his cock, creating aftershocks of intense pleasure. His kept this up as long as possible, the way Carol did when she tied him down. It was like self inflicted torture, but he kept at it, going for the deepest pleasure possible.
When he could stand it no longer he just lay there, spent and exhausted, sprawled on his back like Hemingway's fisherman. His mind was an empty void. What few sounds he heard, city sounds, a jet taking off, a bus, the whoosh of cars on the wide avenue below, were muted, as if the outside world were distant and of no concern to him.
Strange, random thoughts began to intrude on his peace, dream-like in their lack of cohesion. He thought again of Vivian, not a memory willed by force so much as a dream that gradually came into focus even though he wasn't quite asleep. The image that came to him was of her sleeping, with her head on his chest, her thick, long hair cascading over his bed.
He reveled in her beauty one more time, then rolled over and fell asleep.