We had a few rounds of tickling in different postions. I tried alot of new things including mummification and stocks.

if I whine about missing the outside, make sure I regret it with some nice vitamin D time

We’re playing ‘Boarding School Panty Raid’ tonight, with a twist. Our foreplay games are usually re-enactments of missed opportunities from your adolescence. You may not believe you can change the past event, but you can certainly entertain yourself with trying. I must say I enjoy the apocryphal stories of sex denied or amusing mishaps you witnessed and want a re-run to shift the details in your favor. I am always up for the role of the girl that got away, because I am guaranteed a vengeful or long overdue orgasm for you, our sexual hero and leading man. Tonight, I am revisiting my school girl look… tight sweater, short skirt, knee socks, Mary Janes, and surprise… white cotton panties. In real life, I am usually without them to keep my availability at the top of your mind when we venture out in public. You do so enjoy flashing my state to other admiring men, if they haven’t figured it out for themselves. The point of tonight’s scenario is a good old-fashioned panty raid, where a mob of frat boys plunder the lingerie of a defenseless sorority to take possession as trophies. It’s just you and me, so the story is we’re the only students in the dorms, because everyone else went home for the holidays. I’ll spare you the details of far-flung divorced parents we suffer in common.  Of course, I am studying, when you come by to borrow my notes from our mutual sex education class. Coincidentally and conveniently, we are studying BDSM this coming quarter, so you pepper me with questions about my own experience with the syllabus’ unfamiliar glossary. After we smoke the joint you brought to thank me, I confess I have always been intrigued by the practice of being subdued by ropes. Half-kidding, you suggest we do our homework, and we eye each other before collapsing into the giggles of being stoned. Excusing yourself to retrieve something from your car, I finish the joint and fantasize about our teasing. Returning, you don’t remove your ski mask, and the skein of clothesline rope speaks volumes, while you have gone silent. My heart races as you grab my wrists and treat me roughly, as I am wrestled to the bed. I protest and struggle for effect, pleading for mercy as you pin me down. Glaring at me, you murmur 

“This is what you want… right?” hypnotizing me with your intensity. I feel my panties dampen and realize it is exactly what I want. I nod my consent and struggle less as I am lashed spread eagle to the bed. You remove the mask… and it is not you. You have enlisted the assistance of our more than willing neighbor to add a threat element to this unexpected surprise. He and I have some history, and the familiar bulge reminds me of our good times. There has obviously been a sign off on your part to partake of me… and it’s hard to know who’s more thrilled about it. His breathing is ragged from arousal, my panties are even damper and I see you watching from the balcony above. This is hotter than a panty raid and your clever change-up has shifted the goalposts. I smile at you and shake my head in disbelief as I hear his zipper descending. The ski mask is back for the threatening stranger vibe and I am vulnerable to your agreed upon agenda. I struggle and protest for your benefit and to hide my own arousal from the turn of events. A new threat glints in his hand as he wields a sharp silver blade to slice my panties from me. I quiet myself when I feel the cool surface against my hips, on one side then the other. He looms over me with menace and strokes himself in the furrows of my drenched folds while he locks me in his gaze. I recognize this moment before entry, it always tapped into my neediness for penetration and my whimpers betray me again. He continues, thrilled by having me at such a disadvantage, prolonging the tease until I am verbal and demanding. One swift plunge, and I am moaning with pleasure as he makes up for lost time to satisfy me… and gratify you both. I can’t help but cum in these wicked circumstances and my flailing quivers are subdued by my captivity. There will be rope burns on my wrists and bruises on my ankles… but in this moment, it is all beyond good. He pockets my panties, zips himself up and quenches his thirst between my thighs, for old times sake. You appear at the threshold and he scampers off to avoid the conflict of such an interruption.

You rush to my bedside in character, with the protective concern of a friend who is chastising himself for his absence during the assault. You caress my face, kissing me in consolation… and speaking of how sexy I look in this predicament, how inviting my vulnerability is to you, how the luscious scent of my arousal is irresistible. I realize there is true life component you’re working through, since I am not being freed from my restraints. You inhale deeply and slowly unbutton my cashmere sweater to expose my full breasts for your nursing of the taut tips. My guttural moans are of surrender when your hand travels to my swollen pantiless throbbing as you nibble at my now-heaving breasts.

“So wet… for him? For me?”

“I’m confused by my arousal. I don’t know which way is up…”

“I can still make you cum like clockwork, baby.”

It his voice from upstairs now. Mind reeling, I begin to sort out the subterfuge. Your fingers plunge deep and I am breathless from the secondary intrusion so soon, but nonetheless desiring for more.

“Let’s make this more interesting, throw me your t shirt.”

You remove yours and my desire escalates at the sight of your chiseled chest. Catching his mid air, you cover my face with both, blinding me with the musky fabrics. It’s dark now, but you tell me the trauma of your boarding school discovery of a crush, tied to her bed, blindfolded and blissed out from some hazing from an undisclosed stranger. Brutal to witness and rescue her from a fate she was not disturbed by in those post-orgasmic moments. Your gallantry was rewarded as a life-long friend, but you always wondered about the less than heroic path you could have taken. He has joined you from upstairs and your voices both circle the bed as the sordid tale unfolds.

“If I hadn’t removed her blindfold, she would have never known it wasn’t the stranger… or me.”

“You promised…”

“I told our impatient neighbor… you’re very recent, and might I say, quite decent ex-lover, he could watch too.”

I swallow hard and see where you’re headed.

“But you won’t know, if it’s him again… or me.”