The Ostrich – An Erotica Short Story For Women

How much pleasure can you get from a simple feather...?

How much pleasure can you get from a simple feather...?

In this erotica tale for women, we explore how the delicious teasing a simple feather and a determined partner can bring you to new heights of pleasure.  

Philomena had just poured me a complimentary wine refill. I felt naked without my laptop. The Ostrich was not really the sort of place that you set up shop with a laptop,  but I lived nearby and they did not mind if I did.

The uniforms that the wait staff wore made them look like a softer Maleficent from the film, but the feathers made them look especially amazing. The feathers were the gimmick after all it was The Ostrich!

It was just The Ostrich until Philomena came along, then I became more obsessed with it than I had been in the first place as my home away from home. Philomena was stunning, and she wore the feathers adorning her uniform like they were her skin. The first time she waited on me, she literally waited on me because I could barely talk when she stood close to me.

Philomena may have noticed or not, but she told me all of the specials and the way her eyes glazed over when she described each item, I wanted anything she recommended.

I always sat in her section, and she always served me with a smile and remembered my name.

“Hi Betty,” she said, and poured me her favorite wine of the day. She started me drinking wine in the middle of the afternoon.

It was the time that the feathers from her apron brushed my bare arm on a summer day after a wine pour, that made me want to be in Philomena’s section all of the time. But I could not say a word to her so I just lingered in the restaurant all of the time, and accepted that I would never be with her. But I could be near her as often as I liked!

Every time she walked by and her feathers touched me, it was like a little earthquake for me. I felt a small tremor inside, and closed my eyes thinking about that small sensation for moments after.

Which was why when Philomena left me her number at the bottom of a receipt, I had aftershock tremors. I waited for her at my table after The Ostrich closed. Ironically, her jacket had feathers. Pink feathers—she looked like a retro 1950s goddess.

I followed her outside, and she grabbed me and gave me the sweetest kiss. She looked into my eyes, hers brighter than the full moon in the sky.

“I was waiting for you forever, but I realized that you were too shy. Didn’t you know?” She kissed me soft as a feather again.
“Know what?” I asked.

She smiled, and licked my lip.

“That I was dying for you?”

“No,” I said, tears came to my eyes because I had no idea. I was not even sure that she noticed me day after day.

Philomena did not live far from The Ostrich. Feathers was an ironic theme of her apartment—there were so many colored feathers and black feathers that it was like an ostrich.

“I had just moved here and started working at The Ostrich and the feathers inspired me,” Philiomena laughed, as she gestured around. “They come in handy you know?” Philomena gestured to the feathers on the wall.

Indeed they did come in handy later when Philomena made me a cocktail with a feather garnish. She took the feather from her drink, and rubbed it against my cheek playfully. I smiled, and took a sip of my drink.

But the sensation of the feather

“You know…I kept thinking about you tickling me with feathers. Every time your apron would accidentally brush against me—“ I started.

“Accidentally on purpose!” Philomena grinned.

I laughed because I never imagined that it was on purpose.

“I imagined you tickling me with feathers.”

Philomena brushed the feather over my neck, and it did not feel like torture as she did it over and over. At this point, I wanted her to control everything between us since she was brave enough to have gotten us here in the first place. She kissed my neck, and her lips felt like feathers.

We put our drinks down, and Philomena pressed her thigh to mine. I was still shy but wanted to do what she wanted me

to do. She kissed me and I placed my hands on her hips. She put her hands over mine, and pressed herself to me. I pressed myself to her—neither one of us suddenly could get close enough to the other. We peeled off our clothes so aside from being close, we could feel the heat of our skin against each other’s.


Philomena wrestled me—playfully—down onto the couch and pulled off my lace panty. She tickled me with the feather in different places —she was completely at ease controlling the action between us. As she tickled and stroked me carefully with the feather, she held my hands up over my head. I squirmed as she rounded the tips of my nipples with the tip of the feather. I was terribly ticklish so it was a small torture, but also a more sensual touch than I was expecting. I could come from my nipples being touched like that—would I?

I arched my chest so that she could circle my nipples faster and faster with the feather. Philomena blew and licked my nipples to vary the sensation.

I arched back and forth like a bow, and she circled my nipples with the feather until I started to pant.

“I’m going to come—“ I panted still arching like a bow

“No, you cannot come until I say so,”.  Philomena said matter of factly as she let the feather move from my nipples, between my breasts and to my belly button. I squirmed all the more, because I really felt like I was going to come but I did not want to come before she allowed me to.

I thought about all of the times her apron touched me at The Ostrich and I shivered with pleasure. But I did not explode there, I was able to maintain my cool.

Hot and bothered as Philomena explored between my legs with the feather, I was obedient as she held my arms up over my head ever tighter.

“Don’t come Betty,” she whispered, and I nodded.

I would not come until she let me.

When she stroked the feather between my legs over and over, I almost passed out from making sure I did not come. The tip of the feather at the top of my sex parallel to my clit made me want to come and laugh at the same time. Feather on my clit, I panted heavily as I got wetter and wetter as she stoked me. I squirmed on the couch, when she slipped her finger into me moving it in and out, while she let the feather move over my swollen sex. I was a complete mess, panting and arching myself up toward the feather. I wanted to laugh and come at the same time.

“Do you want to come now baby?” Philomena asked.

“Only if you want me to,” I cried, as I squirmed all the more.

“Come baby…” Philomena put the feather down after, and pushed her finger in and out of me, then two fingers.


I came underneath her, while she lie over me kissed me and called me beautiful.

Now, when I was in The Ostrich and the feathers from her apron touched me…I did not even quiver—

Because she did not tell me to, and because I knew it was only a tease.


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