It was with great awkwardness that Jenny brought up the incident the next morning. It was with greater awkwardness yet, that Matilda agreed for more drastic measures to be taken. But it was with great self-restraint that both steadfastly ignored the implications of Jenny tying Matilda to the bed with silk scarves.
Which led to now. Jenny was dressed in the longest, least sexy dress she could find, as she leaned over Matilda's prone form on the bed. Taking the silk between her fingers, she grasped Matilda's wrist as loosely as she could, and tried her hardest to ignore Matilda's breathy gasp and the cards dancing through the air. With one secured, she skirted around the bed to reach the other, determined to avoid touching Matilda as much as possible. In the corner of her eye, she could see the cards speed up in their movements, as she knotted the scarf around Matilda's second wrist.
Finally, she pulled back to study Matilda's face for any uncertainty.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked, gently. Too gently, if the rapid shuffling was any indication. Matilda only nodded.
"If you need to get out, you tell me immediately, okay?"
Another nod.
"Matilda, verbal response please. We don't know how overwhelming this might be. I need to be sure that you'll tell me."
"I will, Jenny," she said, finally. "Promise."
"Okay," she breathed, leaning forward with the last scarf. "Head up for me then."
Matilda craned her head up for Jenny to slip thee scarf behind her head, knotting it firmly. Then, in the silence, she waited.
Matilda tried not to squirm under the weight of Jenny's gaze, and turned her mind to the task at hand. She began similarly to the last time.
Dream-Jenny drifts back over to the bed, hovering over Matilda's tied-up form. Without hesitation, she hikes up the hem of her unbearably long dress, and straddles Matilda's hips. She slides a hand slowly under Matilda's sleep shirt, caressing the skin before she moves higher, taking the shirt with her. The hem catches around dream-Jenny's wrist as her hand moves, exposing Matilda's stomach to the room. Then, gently but with complete surety, dream-Jenny slides her hand to cup Matilda's bare tit.
Matilda inhaled shakily. Arousal coiled deep in her stomach and she felt the urge to slip a hand between her thighs to ease the growing ache. But as she shifted, the scarf around her wrist pulled taut and she recalled suddenly the aim of the exercise. The pressure behind her eyes was there, certainly. Building steadily with every imagined movement of dream-Jenny's hands.
Jenny's eyes were fixed on the scarf around Matilda's wrist, pulled taut with her last movement, which she could only begin to guess at the intentions of. She shivered as her mind flickered with the image of Matilda touching herself the way she so clearly ached to.
"…Jenny," came Matilda's voice, low and breathy.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asked immediately, regretting her response when Matilda's face flushed bright red.
"Sorry," she mumbled. Jenny could only hum in response, a strangled kind of breathless acknowledgement.
Matilda's face burned with embarrassment, but she calmed herself with the recognition that at least the experiment was working, to some degree. The pressure behind her eyes was forceful, but not overwhelming. And, even though her eyes had flown open much earlier, she still couldn't see a thing. As far as she could tell, nothing was floating yet.
Dream-Jenny is chuckling at her lingering embarrassment. She leans down, pressing up against the length of Matilda's torso to whisper in her ear.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. You didn't see her face when you moaned. She likes it just as much as I do."
Dream-Jenny rolls her hips, once, twice, before squeezing Matilda's breasts again. She catches Matilda's gaze, eyes wide and brown and dark with lust. She maintains eye contact as she lowers her head to Matilda's chest.
Matilda threw her head back at the imagined pleasure. In the corner, Jenny shifted uncomfortably, resisting the urge to rub her thighs together. Matilda's face was flushed pink along her cheeks and the sensual arch of her back made the restraints seem even more perverse. Jenny tried hard to overlook the gentle, rolling motions of Matilda's hips as she desperately sought friction.
Dream-Jenny's mouth has dropped lower, pressing kisses across Matilda's abdomen as she toys with the waistband of her sleep shorts. Her eyes alight with mischief, but Matilda still sees the love simmering behind it.
"Do you want it?" she teases lightly. Matilda sees the question for what it is – reassurance, confirmation of consent.
"Please," begged Matilda, the heat from Jenny's gaze searing her enough to lose herself in imagined sensations. Jenny cleared her throat, sensing the situation was getting even further out of hand.
"I think we're done here," she said, swallowing harshly. "Is it safe to remove the blindfold?"
Matilda took a minute to catch her breath, shoving her feelings as far down as possible. "The pressure is there, but I don't think I'll destroy anything."
Taking the confirmation, Jenny reached behind Matilda's head and removed the blindfold. When she blinked blearily up at her, Jenny saw her eyes were wild, blown wide with lust. Yes, this situation got out of hand a long time ago.
Jenny reached for Matilda's nearest wrist, almost flinching at the audible hitch in her breath as Jenny's thumb brushed her skin. Jenny undid the other as quickly as she could and fled to hover by the doorway, putting valuable distance between herself and the young woman.
"So, um," she coughed awkwardly. "Do you think it worked?"
Matilda sighed. "I'm not really sure how to tell. It's definitely not cured, but there's a chance it helped."
Jenny leaned her head back against the doorframe. "We have to find a cure for it eventually. Or else you'll be slamming books into walls or shuffling cards anytime you feel remotely… hot under the collar."
"Well," Matilda began, hesitantly. "I suppose I had an idea. But…"
"But it involves a situation like this again, doesn't it?" Jenny guessed.
"Worse," was all she ventured.