Our friend tied him up with a series of knots that I don’t yet know the intricacies of. He told me before I went into the room that if I wanted my boyfriend untied, all I had to do was pull the loose string hanging beside his body.
When I first saw Adam tied like that, his arms stretched comfortably out on a half makeshift cross, legs in front of him and ankle cuffs restricting how much he could move them.
It was hot.
He had a blindfold on for me, so that I could do what I wanted without him watching. Not that he couldn’t, but while I was sure he knew it was me walking in, the idea that he didn’t know for sure who was about to touch him…
I’ve always loved muscle. The strength behind it more than anything, the power and protection it could offer. Maybe that’s just me, but having a muscled gorgeous guy tied up for me to do as I pleased. I was already wet.
Of course, we’d have safe words, he’d say yellow if he needed a break. Red to stop everything and that would be my cue to pull the loose piece of rope. Sometimes I wish I could take the safe word away, but that’s not the right move here.
I knelt beside him, and noticed the bandana in his mouth. Rick, our mutual friend who had tied Adam up, told me it was to keep him from spitting when laughing hard enough.
He didn’t move much, so I lifted my hands and could feel my hesitation as I wasn’t sure where to begin. So, I let them run gently enough down his sides, and he tensed. His breathing strained for a moment and his muscles contracting.
Tickling is one of my biggest turnons. If I knew why, I’d say why, but all I’ve gotten it down to is a love of sensitivity.
I dragged my nails up and down his sides, he started chuckling and eventually he laughed gently. But I wanted more than that. Though I don’t have much experience tickling someone, I squeezed at his ribs and he laughed much louder. I start digging my nails into each crevice of rib, and he was full on laughing as his arms strain against the rope and his legs try their hardest to reach his chest.
I’m smiling now. And then I have another idea. I reach my fingers up and place them inches from the hollows of his armpits, and scratch a single nail in each. He jumps and gasps, and then I dig my nails fully into the soft skin.
“Ahhhhhahahhahaha!” he howls and tries his hardest to stop my fingers as they trace up and down and I enjoy every twitch and jump as he laughs so hard I can hear his breathing getting lighter. I don’t know how long this lasts, but eventually when his breathing is silent, I stop and give him a rest.
When his breathing has returned to normal and all he can say is “holy shit” over and over. I use my fingertips and trace around his stomach, causing the muscles and skin to jump and twitch, and him to breath more rapidly. I trace around the firm muscles and soon I straddle him, my own fire burning by now.
I reach up and take his blindfold off, his eyes lighting up in a sexy way as he stares at me with lust. Me looking at him the same way. I remove the bandana in mouth and he says with a smile that lights me up inside out, “what now?”
I reach beside him and he thinks I’m going to attack his sides again.
Instead, I grab the loose string, and pull.