Teddi woke up to the sound of the hair dryer. It was Nancy getting ready for work. She pulled the covers over her head and tried to go back to sleep, but just as she was about to Nancy pulled them back.
"Hey, sleepy head! You going sleep all day?"
"Come on, Nan. You're the one has to get up early, not me!"
"Early? It's almost nine! Tell me, how do I look?"
Before last night Teddi had never seen Nancy dressed up, and the effect had been electrifying. As her eyes came into focus she saw Nancy looking just as beautiful and sexy as she had been at Carol's, dressed in the cream white jersey gown Carol had given her. Suddenly she was filled with desire.
"Mmm, very nice! Come closer!"
Nancy stepped forward and struck a modeling pose. Teddi grabbed her arm and tried to pull her into bed, but Nancy just managed to twist away.
"Not now, silly! I have to get to work. Save the thought, though, OK?"
"Aw, come on. Just little?"
"No, not the slightest. Say, can I borrow a pair of shoes? I have nothing that goes with this."
"Only if you come back to bed!"
"Come on, Teddi! I really have to get going."
From Nancy's stern expression Teddi could tell that it was useless.
"Oh, all right. Try the white pumps."
Teddi couldn't help chuckling as she watched her little friend try to stand up in her five inch heels. She teetered precariously, looking ready to fall any second.
"Gosh, but these are high! I feel like a giraffe!"
"You look great. Makes your legs look real long and sexy. By the way, you need better earrings. Try the pair I left out on the dresser."
Nancy helped herself to the earrings, and with them on she looked more glamorous than ever.
"Well, gotta run. See you later, and thanks for letting me use your stuff!"
"What are friends for?"
When the front door thudded shut Teddi sighed as a feeling of loneliness swept over her. She tried again to go back to sleep, but her desire for Nancy would not go away. Her craving grew stronger as she recalled the wild time they had had the night before. The memory that stood out the most was the time she had been on the table. Just two days before that she had had the time of her life, when Steve had put her on the table at the club and dragged her dress over her cunt. Then, at Carol's, even that had been surpassed. It was just as incredible as it had been the first time, made even more unbearable by the pleats tickling her ass and rubbing her clit. She had really felt like she would die of pleasure, and it had gone on for what had seemed like an eternity.
As she tried to get comfortable she rolled over, and there, hanging in the closet, were the pleated jumpsuit and dress. Nancy must have moved them from the bathroom, where she had hung them to dry after she washed them last night. The sight of all those pleats and the memory of what they had done for her made her dizzy.
She thought about getting one of the outfits and satisfying her lust with it. Just as she made up her mind to do it, she remembered what day it was. Monday. Her night off. She and Nancy would have the entire evening to themselves, an all too rare occurrence. What better way to spend it, she thought, than to experience again the powerful, gut wrenching pleasure she had endured the night before? If she did it now, long and slow the way she really wanted it, she would probably be too sore for Nancy. Besides, it wouldn't be nearly as good without being tied down and feeling powerless to make it stop.
She thought about Nancy working all day in that dress she had on, and what Steve had said. She knew that Nancy would find the experience delightful and quite erotic, but not exactly the way Steve imagined. As good as that nylon felt, it wasn't anything like having a stiff feather brushed against the soles of your feet. She thought Steve had a neat idea, and wished she could wear something that tickled her the way he wanted it to. Something that felt just like nylon jersey, only stronger, so that every time you moved you had to fight down the urge to cry out with laughter.
Memories of her time together with Steve at the club flooded over her, and she couldn't resist reaching down between her legs and stroking her clit in response. Even though just wearing the dress didn't quite do it, being tied up and having it dragged across her breasts and between her legs certainly had. It wasn't as strong as when Nancy tickled her feet, but it was plenty strong enough.
She found herself dreaming about being out on a date with Steve. She would wear a jersey dress for him and delight not only in how it felt but in what the sight of her in it did to him. He would know that she wanted to be tickled later on, tied up and teased with her dress until she was delirious, just as he had done at the club, only with some good old fashioned foot tickling mixed in. All evening she would be bathed in the constant pleasure of her dress and the special joy of knowing how Steve would use it on her later, watching him looking at her, eager to get his hands on her.
Teddi knew that lots of men had a fetish for women's lingerie. She would not care to be with a man who could only get it up when he wore a frilly nylon baby-doll, but men who worshipped women adorned with sensuous nylon or satin seemed rather appealing, even a bit cute. She wouldn't mind it at all if they insisted she wear sexy lingerie, as long as they fucked her long and hard.
Steve's passion for qiana dresses had an extra benefit that she found quite appealing. A panty lover could only indulge in his obsession in private. With Steve, she could go out wearing the very thing that thrilled him, giving him the pleasure of seeing it on her all evening. She would even be willing to lie a little about how it felt, to whisper in his ear that her dress was tickling her half to death and that she couldn't stand wearing it much longer. After all, it wasn't exactly a lie, and the effect on him would be well worth it.
Teddi would have giggled aloud thinking about the look on Steve's face when she said that, except that she was moaning in ecstasy from what she was doing with her clit.
She began to imagine herself wearing a dress that tickled as much as Steve wanted it to, some secret kind of silk or a newly discovered synthetic. Her arousal increased considerably as she considered the possibilities. Something clingy but not really tight, with a full, billowing skirt would feel wonderful sweeping over her body. She imagined herself dancing with Steve, a slow, romantic dance, the two of them all alone, with her dress swirling around her, tickling her until she was out of her mind. She went so far as to imagine Steve naked and thrilled by the feel of her when they touched, his cock rubbing against her dress as they swayed cheek to cheek, moaning in ecstasy as he had on the table.
A different approach would be to wear something tight, like that odd spandex dress Carol had made. As strangely erotic as that had felt, she wanted more. Tighter, and with the power to amplify the sensation of fingertips stroking her, so that every part of her it covered was made as sensitive as her feet. More, if that were possible, so that the slightest touch of Steve's fingers would set off shock waves of tickling totally beyond endurance.
She wanted Steve to be fucking her in it, and the image of the dress just didn't make sense. Then she remembered the pants Carol, Ginger, and Lynn all had worn. Even Nancy had gotten a chance. They looked really sexy, much more provocative than anything the girls at the club wore. That was what she wanted, a pair of pants like that and a matching top, made from some mysterious fabric that tickled her like crazy. The pants would have a slit it the crotch, and Steve could fuck her while she wore them.
The image of Steve ravaging her cunt while her outfit tickled her to the limit of her endurance swept her over the edge. She thrashed around on the bed like a freshly landed aku as thousands of rockets went off in her head. She would have screamed, except that her body was so rigid and beyond her control that she was powerless to make any sound at all.
Why she felt the need to suffer in order to have good sex, she couldn't say. Neither she or Nancy could recall anything that might explain their passion for this quirk. Nancy had told her about a friend back home one night when they had gotten very drunk on good Scotch, her only recollection of tickling play beyond the normal childhood stuff. Teddi had no such memories. They both reacted strongly to the tactile pleasure of light tickling, but what Teddi liked best was to be tied down and tickled long and hard, until it began to feel like torture. If she wasn't lucky enough to be in that situation while having sex, she fantasized about it. If she denied herself that, she couldn't come.
Before she met Nancy she had tried kicking the habit, thinking that she would be better off without the extra baggage, but she had lost all interest in sex. With Nancy she had been able to get over her feelings of guilt, and sex had taken on a totally new dimension in her life.
Now that she had finally met a man who enjoyed tickling as much as she and Nancy did, she was ecstatic. Ever since she had met with Steve on Friday she had thought about what it would be like to be his woman, to be there for him when he got home every day, eager for him to take his pleasure with her and enjoy sex the way she had dreamed about for so long. Her greatest fear was that if she stole Steve from Carol her livelihood would be cut off, and she still had no idea what to do about that.
Her orgasm was fantastic, but short. In just a few seconds it had blown itself out, and she was back to fingering herself and casting about for a good fantasy.
She ended up at the club, engaged in one of Carol's special S&M parties. What they did to her there was not something that she normally cared for. In fact, often times it was a little repulsive. For some reason she found herself drawn to it, like a moth to a candle, and the more she thought about it the hotter she got.
She was bound, with lots of rope. The Japanese tourists who Carol catered to were extremely good at rope bondage. A small group of men had worked quickly, their expertise obvious, until her torso was crisscrossed with thick white ropes that pressed hard against her. Each breast was bound tightly with rope, making them bulge like balloons. Other ropes were drawn tight between her legs, pulling her cunt open. Even at that point she had been in considerable pain, but that was nothing compared to how she felt when they ran a long rope from the small of her back down between her legs and up and over a rafter. That one dug deep inside her, its scratchy surface grinding against her clit.
At that point the three men had taken fiendish delight in sitting at a low table and drinking beer while they took turns tugging on that rope. As uncomfortable as that was, she was glad that they were not like so many of Carol's other customers, who seemed determined to try every kind of S&M treatment they had ever heard of.
At first she had felt only the pain, but as the minutes passed she had found herself getting very turned on. Unknown to her tormentors she was on the brink of coming when one of them pulled the rope out of her cunt and shoved a vibrating egg inside her. For most of an hour she had stood there like that, the rope back in its place and the egg buzzing inside, as orgasm after orgasm swept over her.
Her roommate, silky dresses, fantastically ticklish clothes, all were forgotten now as Teddi focused her attention on how it had felt to be encased in tight rope, dangling like a marionette as orgasm after orgasm erupted from her aching cunt while the three men sat there staring in awe at her performance. Her orgasm was slow in coming, but when it hit is was as if the engineer on a great locomotive laboring up the tracks through a mountain pass had finally pulled the whistle cord to blow off the extra steam. It wasn't so much an explosion as the sudden release of deep, profound energy, impossibly powerful, its magnitude so overwhelming as to be incomprehensible. The engineer did not just toot the whistle, he let out a series of long, wailing blasts that stretched out to the sky and echoed endlessly off the canyon walls.
Without the benefit of restraints and a loving, experienced partner Teddi found it difficult to sustain her peak, but she tried desperately to keep going as long as she could. When at last it was over she lay very still, feeling like a wax figurine accidentally set in the sun, melted down to a formless blob. As she feel asleep she reminded herself that, when it came to great sex, it wasn't so much what you did as what you thought.