His hand gripped my ass cheek, squeezing the tender muscle in his fingers, and then he let go and his fingers shot up my side, dancing over my ribs. My scream turned into a gale of giggles as his fingers send waves of shocks through my body.
“S-s-stop it,” I gasped, my voice choked with involuntary laughter.
“Tickling me,” I croaked, laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
“What’s that?” he said. “Tickle you?”
“No!” I squealed, but he tickled me harder. He had no need to pin me down, now. My whole body was shaking and jerking as he savaged me with both hands. It felt like his fingers were everywhere, and he knew all the spots. Along my ribs, the flat of my belly, and the small of my back. I grew frantic, gasping for air, and finally I grabbed his wrist and managed to hold on, and he stopped. I lay there panting and blinking away tears of laughter, giggles bursting out of my mouth as the aftershocks spread through me, even as he stopped tickling.
“I can’t breathe,” I gasped, “I can’t breathe.”
“Oh,” he said, “Well, that just means I have to do this.”
Ignoring my shocked cry, he seized me by the hips and turned me over, my legs flung apart by the momentum. That worked for him, as he grabbed my knees and dragged me to the edge of the bed, pushing them together as he dragged my panties up and over my ankles and tossed them out of the way. I squeaked in alarm, my voice strained and rough from laughing so heard, my heart beating a drum in my chest as he pushed and my legs fell open, spreading before him. I cried out and curled up and threw my hand in an instinctive motion to cover myself, but he had my wrist in his firm grip, and then the other, standing over me. He stared into my eyes hard, pointedly, then slowly looked down and licked his lips.
“Look at what we have here,” he said.
My jaw worked without sound. Every breath spread heat from my middle that raced around my body and pooled between my legs.
“It’s my sister’s pussy. What should I do with my sister’s pussy?”
He looked up at me, then down again. “Maybe I should lick it. It’s so fuzzy.”
“Hey,” I squeaked, “I-“
He let go of my wrists and dropped down to one knee, pulling my legs over his shoulders in the process. I felt his breath on my pussy, hot and moist, and thought oh God, this is it. His breath grew hotter as he leaned in, and I heard him take in a long, deep breath.
“It smells wonderful,” he said, his face so close that I could almost feel his lips moving as he spoke. “It’s so cute.”
“I have a cute pussy,” I squeaked, laughing at the absurdity of it, laughter that made me feel the tickling again and my whole body shuddered.
“Have you ever had your pussy licked?”
“Oh,” he said, “So this is my pussy.”
“Yes,” I said, giggling. “Are you going to lick it, or not?”
He dragged his tongue over my slit, and I arched back into the bed, shuddering as my eyes went unfocused. It was nothing like when I touched myself, nothing at all.
“How was that?”
“Don’t just stop”, I cried, arching and undulating before him.
“It’s all red. I wonder what will happen if I keep licking it.”
Roughly, he pulled his tongue over my slit again, and then again and again, wetting my skin until it felt cool as he drew back, making the heat of his tongue all the more shocking. I melted into the bed, my arms going as limp as my legs as they crossed over his back and pulled him into me, his tongue exploring every inch of my folds. He pulled back and gave my lower lips a soft kiss and said, “What’s this?”