“Ohmygod! What are you doing?” Her face looking down at him was a mixture of amused and perplexed.
“Copying the rain,” he replied. “I thought that was obvious.”
She had to admit that his fingertips tap-dancing on her legs was a pretty good imitation of the rain thrumming on the roof. Her perplexed part left, leaving just the amusement — which leapt as his frolicking fingers met her stomach, and she simultaneously burst out in giggles and twisted her body. His fingers kept right on dancing, to her breasts and neck and arms. They played for a bit, and then the tiny devils returned to her belly, inspiring another burst of giggles.
Just like that, he flipped her over and continued the rain imitation on her back, butt, and legs.
Since this didn’t tickle her like mad, it gave her a chance to catch her breath and think. Before the finger dance, he had slipped off her pajamas — and she had assumed he was going to dive right into sex. But he had other plans in mind. Still, she knew sex was eventually going to happen. The soft head of his erection that patted her skin here and there, adding to the finger tapping, was a promise of that. Besides, she liked the fun and feel of his jitterbugging fingers. They fit right in on a rainy Sunday morning.
Then his lips joined the party. Little pecks of his lips accompanied his fingers. She moaned with pleasure as his lips gave tiny kisses to her ass cheeks as his fingertips danced on her thighs and back.
Once more, he flipped her over with ease. Little kisses now arrived on her stomach, here and there and there. Fingertips on her breasts and the tops of her thighs. All of it feeling like a mass of tiny elves playing on her in some ritual to worship a goddess of beauty.
When the little elves of his fingers and lips zeroed in on her belly, she was stunned — as if an orgasm had hit her without telling her about its imminent arrival in short time. She rolled to her side. Her body curled up. The giggles erupted out of her.
And still, the wicked elves kept their tickling, dancing onslaught. Meanwhile, his lips latched onto her nipple closest to him. No little kiss here. This time, a firm sucking. The contrast in sensations between her stomach and nipple whipped about her like the wind in the rain storm outside.
He released her. Released from the bonds of his tickling fingers and the lock of his suckling mouth. She rolled so that she was again on her back. She glared at him. Her shoulders and breasts rapidly rose and fell in her heavy breathing.
“Now that,” he said proudly, “is what I call foreplay.” He spread her legs apart.
“More like torture,” she replied, trying to keep a straight face but failing after a couple of seconds as he smirked at her with his dickhead touching her pussy. “Okay, okay. It wasn’t torture.”
As his cock slid inside of her, he said, “Torture would be keeping this away from you.”
“For me and for you.”
He settled on top of her, giving her a kiss on the lips as his cock moved smoothly. “Very true. And why would I want to do that?”
She bit her bottom lip. “Well, a little torture is nice now and then. Like making me giggle like that.”
“So you did enjoy it?”
She looked bashful. “Yes.”
He looked quite pleased. “Good. I certainly did.”
Again, he kissed her. Having all the time in the world on this leisurely Sunday morning, he patiently made love to her as the rain tap-danced on the roof, giving them a soundtrack to accompany their moans.