Let him - and use your top as a blindfold

You consider finally pulling of the top that's still over your head, but decide not to. There's something kinky about blindfolds, and while your top is translucent, you can't see more of Sam than a vague shadow. He notices your inaction, and pauses. "What is it Cindy? Do you hate looking at me that much?" It's quite the opposite, but he knows that, so you don't answer. "Alright then, if you are into that sort of thing..."

You hear some rustling sounds, and shiver in anticipation of what Sam might be planning. Then he grabs your hands and pulls them together over your head. He wraps something around your wrists. His belt, you quickly realize. It's not bound particularly tightly, and you could slip your wrists from it easily if you wanted to. "Oh no," you squeak in a cartoonishly high-pitched voice, "What are you doing to me?" This time it's Sam's turn to offer no response. Suddenly, you feel him tugging at your pants, and in under a second you are left naked on your couch, 'blinded' and 'bound'. Where is he going to touch you? Your breasts? Just a tickle across a nipple, barely perceptible? Will he go straight for your pussy? What will he do it with? His hands? His mouth? Something else? A million scenarios run through your head, but none of them come true.

The next time Sam touches you, it's right under your armpit.

OH. FUCK. NO.

Before you get the chance to tell him not to, Sam starts tickling you under both armpits. You convulse with laughter and, spurred on by your response, Sam redoubles his efforts. "STOP SAM!" You barely manage to yell. "STOP THAT!" "Stop what? You're going to have to be a little bit more precise, Cindy." Oh, motherfucker! He continues his tickle ****, but doesn't stop there. Soon, you feel his lips on your left nipple. He suckles on it, which would probably feel pretty nice if only you could focus on it through the damn tickling! "Sa~aaam!!""Yes?" he asks, totally deadpan. "What is it?" He tickles you even harder while 'waiting for your response', and you manage nothing more than inarticulate frustration. "Oh, sure, you can have one." He leans forward, and kisses you through your makeshift blindfold. You feel the warmth of his tongue indenting the fabric, and you open your mouth so yours can meet it. You make out like that for only a few seconds, through a layer of cotton, before both of you erupt in laughter at the silliness of the whole situation.

Sam lies down on top of you and pulls the neck of your top up just far enough to expose your mouth. You open your mouth slightly in anticipation, and your suspicion is soon proven correct by Sam giving you a proper kiss, this time. His hands roam over your body as you kiss. Not tickling, now, but caressing, stroking, kneading. You don't know how long you lie there, nor do you care. You suddenly start caring when Sam begins tickling you again, and are **** to break the kiss to let the laughter out. He sits back up then, not stopping his **** for a millisecond. His hands do move down, though, tickling your belly and sides. It's not as effective, but given the state you are in right now, anything will do the trick.

Fortunately, you do still have the presence of mind to feel his cock kissing your labia. He positions himself, and pushes in, then returns both hands to tickling you. The pleasure and the tickling are almost to much, but you still remember the GAME and shout out that all-important word: "CO- CONDOM!" Sam freezes. He has sunk his cock into you completely, and you feel it gently twitching with his heartbeat. His hands finally let up their attack, and you are actually able to speak more than one word, now, between labored breaths. "The GAME! Need a condom!" No response. "Sam? You need to put on a condom. You have one, right? Sam?" What is he doing? Sam still hasn't moved, hasn't spoken. You wait a moment, confused, before trying again. "Is everything alright, Sam? We need to use a condom." Instead of pulling out, though, he leans forward to kiss you again, though he doesn't move his hips. You return the kiss, but your heart is not in it. Surely he can't be considering continuing like this? It's too dangerous, and he knows it! But then, he withdraws.

You feel his weight shift on the couch, then hear rustling fabric. That is followed by what must be a condom wrapper being torn open. Then he's back inside you, wrapped in smooth latex. He kisses you again as he begins to thrust. Slowly. His hands do their part, massaging your torso and, of course, focusing on your breasts. Ok, that does it. You slip your wrists out of Sam's belt and wrap your arms around him, instead. You caress his muscular back, up to his shoulders and down to his ass. And you kiss him. It's really quite odd. Here you were, expecting a fun little no-nonsense, no strings attached romp with a good-looking charmer. How is it, exactly, that you now somehow find yourself making love, instead? Strange as it all is, it is equally undeniable. You stow away the bewilderment for later, choosing to focus only on Sam, now. You move as one, your bodies writhing against one another, lubricated by sweat. You feel like it would only be right if you reached your climaxes together, but feel a pang of guilt when yours hits well before his. You needn't have worried, though. Sam increases his pace, and keeps you from coming down from your high.

Time is meaningless, except for that, at some point, it came to an end. With his groin pressed tight against yours, he fills up the condom. As his orgasm wanes, yours finally, mercifully, does too. That doesn't mean you need to stop, though. You keep lying there, still kissing, but with a languid calm rather than an inflamed passion, now. Has it been an hour? Two? Who cares? Eventually, though, life must go on. As Sam finally withdraws his long-since limp dick from you, the condom leaks cum onto your couch. Normally, that might annoy you. Now, it just reminds you of the GAME with Mandy. There's no rush, though. You and Sam clean up and get dressed. Then, only then, can you sully your mind with thoughts of Mandy.