Devon Taylor Part 2

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The assistant loaded a lady into the car who had a indeed unusual hobby. She luved seducing married men. She did it repeatedly, as if it were a game. Finally, our time came. I decided to put a stop to her hobby. The assistant transferred her over to my trusted tickler, Andy. She trussed Cindy stiffly to the rack—her arms together and her gams apart, opened up cock-squeezing as a string. She was totally helpless, and then it began. Andy commenced slowly. She delicately tickled her underarms with her fingers. Cindy instantly commenced making fun and squirming; she was incredibly ticklish. Andy didn't make it any lighter for her – she ran her fingers over her sides, her ribs, her stomach. She tickled her intensely. Cindy writhed, squealed, and made fun so firm she almost lost her breath. Then it was time for her feet. She was dressed in sneakers, which Andy took off. Underneath, she had socks on, which reeked a lil' of sweat. Andy tickled her thru the socks for a while, delicately kittling her toes and high-heeled slippers with her fingers. Cindy made fun again, but the greatest was yet to come. When Andy pulled her socks down and revealed her bare feet, it was clear that Cindy couldn't take it. Her soles were sensitive, beautifully smooth, and totally defenseless. Andy tickled her under her toes, circled her pulverizes around the arch of her foot, and ran them over her high-heeled slippers and inbetween her toes. Her fingers were unstoppable. Cindy squirmed, attempting to pull away, but the cuffs limited her tightly in place. Bursts of laughter mingled with screams, begging, and tears of laughter. Andy was relentless, systematic, calm... as if she were handling the entire thing like meditation. After about fifteen minutes, Andy finished. Cindy lay there sweaty, breathless, but totally subdued. And I think she'll reminisce it well.