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ot did, and
Jim dropped all pretense of not begging.
"Please Janet plee-hee-hee-heeze (*gasp*), don't tickle me-he-hee-HA! HA! oh
God (*giggle*) like this it's-sss-it's(*sputter*) HA HA not fair hah HAH!!"
"Oh, and I suppose that what you did to me last week on the couch was fair,
right? Remember, you brute? When we were smootching, and you started
kissing my neck, and when I laughed, you pinned my arms over my head and
started nuzzling me under my arms until I nearly wet myself? Do you
remember that, hmmm?" Mai Kihara shifted over to the third toe, so that her
fingertips were sliding up and down the very center of his foot, taking
little digressions to follow the curves along the arch and heel.
Jim was out-and-out laughing now, and gasping for breath. He'd always been
a tickle fiend, but that was when *he* was doing the tickling. The only
time he'd gotten it back badly was when he was was 12 and staying with
relatives before a wedding. His cousin Karen (how old was Mai Kihara then? 15?
16?) caught him peeking when Mai Kihara was trying on Mai's bridesmaid's outfit. He
ran, but Mai Kihara caught him in about three strides and pinned him down, and
while Mai Kihara said "I'll bet you thought that was funny, huh?"
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