Bound muscular hunk in suit endures tickling tormenting

I don't think so. I don't think so.

Because I noticed when I was ****** you that you're wearing some really hot sheer socks, like my favorite kind.

Yeah. They're comfortable.

Yes, they breathe. It's amazing. They breathe so well.

Oh, do they?

I love the way they feel.

Huh. Huh, huh, huh.

But what does that have to do? I'll just give you my socks. Can you let me out of here?

Nope, nope, nope. I can tell you're proud of them, too.

Yeah, they're nice.

No, no.

So, if you want the socks, you can have the socks.

They look really nice.

They are nice.

They feel really nice, too.

Do you mind if I just rub them a little bit?

Oh, you can rub them.

Wait, I said rub.

I don't know.

I said rub.

What does tickling me have to do with my socks?

Just rubbing them?

No, that's not rubbing. That's tickling.

Let me out of here.

Okay.

In these parts, we call this rubbing.

Rubbing. This is not rubbing.

This is rubbing.

What are you doing?

Give me your phone.

No, that's not a rub.

I said you could rub, not tickle.

I said you could rub, not tickle.

This is how you rub.

Whoa.

Oh, this is not a good way.

Stop.

...