Free erotic stories by JanellElizabethMeyer on AdultRead
As delicious as she was, Houlihan didn’t want to actually touch her with his fingers or his body. Houlihan took his time moving the feather back and forth up those long, slender legs, once alternating back and forth between the tip and the pointy quill. She liked having her breasts touched, and she liked doing the private dances, and of course, the money was great … but those boys couldn’t get her to Georgetown. Still excited, she ran upstairs to her huge, pink and white bedroom, still looking very girlish, and got out a vibrator that made the little portable one she took with her on her special “dates” look like a pencil.
I mean, I don’t think Bryant would allow us to show up in bikinis and tell customers if they are willing to pay, they can tickle us anywhere they want.” And sometimes, he’d get to the head of the line, and have to wait anyway, as Kayla was being tickled by another customer, but he wasn’t going to go with anyone else. Then, after a short break, he would just use his fingers, working his way up slowly, stroking the soles of her feet, then in between her toes, then sliding them up, up her firm calves, tracing long figure eights, then tickling her thighs, easing up, then back, circling her knees, then up a little bit higher, then circling her knees, then up higher, tracing circles on her stomach.
Yes, the thrill of punishing her by giving her the kinky attention the boys didn’t want to give was exciting enough, but Monica was unaware that Houlihan would spread the word that she was to be on her best behavior. But Houlihan wanted her to know that if she wanted to tell Monica how she felt about her, she should do just that—and it would be okay. Monday rolled around, and Houlihan decided he’d speak to Brenda that day, if he could. He’d known a few girls like Brenda, unattractive but they slept with boys anyway, and it didn’t help their popularity. School went on that fall, like usual, except students noticed a quieter Monica O’Toole.
She grabbed him, running her fingers through his short hair, then pushing him back so she could look at his face, into his eyes, feeling that no matter what had happened in her life with men, despite the rude treatment and the humiliation, it had all led up to this moment, with the man she'd craved for months. It was always slowly; of the few times he watched tickling videos, he couldn't get excited by the men who looked like they were jabbing their fingers into the ribcages and armpits of their victims. Jane happened to be the perfect height for what he wanted to try next: tickling her feet with one hand, and gently working his way up her thighs to the flesh in between her legs.
Usually she looked forward to these dance parties, as a form of making money and expressing herself, but she’d never done a party this big. She’d brought her CDs, but sometimes the guys had music they wanted her to dance to. Monica had seen the video for the song, but hadn’t liked Britney’s outfit. For this particular routine, Monica wore a little black velvet dress, stiletto heels, and what looked like diamond jewelry. The man took a picture of the “George” plate with his cell phone, then pulled into the driveway of the house across the street, backed down, and drove off. Blake promised to tip off Houlihan if he heard anything about Monica getting loose again. “Excuse me?” Monica didn’t like where this was going.
As time for college acceptance letters came due, she worried a bit. She’d applied to Georgetown, of course, and the University of Notre Dame (which her parents were a little more pleased about, since it was in-state) as well as Brown University. She had about six places she was waiting on, but her heart was in Georgetown already, and she didn’t know if she’d get there. She’d given it some thought, and she really didn’t want to be with him anymore. They came from different backgrounds, and she normally stayed away from guys like him, but if nothing else, she realized that good people and brilliance come from places you’d least expect it.
Women like Monica would have an easy time of it in life; from wealthy, loving parents to a wealthy, loving husband. Monica was a little surprised when she got the note in Spanish class summoning her to Houlihan’s office after school, if she didn’t have any other obligations. Monica couldn’t imagine Brenda in a nice house twenty-two years from now; she seemed like the type of girl to deny herself the finer things in life, just because she could. Monica could tell Brenda was the kind of girl who thought behaving would earn her brownie points. I figured, ‘hey, why not?’ I know what guys like to look at, and it’s pretty obvious I’ve got it.
Sometimes they touch me the way I want them to, but other times … it’s like they’re not listening.” He’d had to make his way down a sidewalk on a street lined with frat houses, and crawl a block, while he crawled through each of his brother’s legs, and got a smacking from each and every one of them. Houlihan slid out the bottom drawer and took out a smaller version of the paddle he’d been nailed with by the frat guys and laid it on the desk. So she got the car for her sixteenth birthday, even though he was the oldest; he’d had to walk to his part time job in high school until he had saved up for a battered sub-compact.
She was dressed head to toe in black: black push up bra (and Janet was surprised at how big her breasts looked) black lace briefs that thankfully covered her stomach, black stockings, black jeans, and a black halter top. Janet was only really attracted to dark haired, dark eyed, Caucasian men, and Xavier had a intense, almost dangerous look. The paddle and feathers were out on the bed, and Xavier picked up the paddle and gently smacked Janet on her behind. “A few minutes of this, Janet, and then we'll bring out the feathers,” Xavier said. Janet stroked her fingers over Xavier's thighs, then gently stroked his testicles, and moved up to his penis, tracing circles around the head. Shortly thereafter, Xavier came, and Janet thought his climax felt like a heartbeat in the center of her.
Monica looked behind her. Nick had asked her about the gun during their phone call, and she’d said yes, but she never thought he’d have to bring it out. Monica spent the rest of Christmas vacation brooding a bit. Blake had called him over Christmas break in a shaky voice, telling him he wasn’t going to keep an eye on Monica anymore. He explained how Monica wanted his silence, but that he couldn’t guarantee what any of the other 29 boys would say. He admitted he was looking for an exchange, either money or sex, but … well, Monica had left with her bodyguard. Houlihan thought something was up, but didn’t press it. I swear!” Now, Monica really wasn’t looking good.
He managed to get some guys to pony up for one of Monica’s stripping parties. So Blake was a little surprised that Monica wasn’t interested in doing the party. “I’ve got thirty guys together—Tim Goldsworthy’s parents are taking him to Myrtle Beach for a few days, and he made an extra key to his house. A few of the guys were going to get beer. Nick DelVecchio wasn’t happy that she hadn’t done any parties this fall. If word got back to him that she turned down a 3,000 party … And what would Houlihan say? I don’t know who’s all going to be there.” As she hung up, Monica felt a sense of foreboding.