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fantasy story of An Mashiro :
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gasp*), don't tickle me-he-hee-HA! HA! oh
God (*giggle*) 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?" Yeah, he remembered...they were smootching,
and Jim started kissing Janet's neck, which prompted a ticklish little squeal
on An's part. When he heard An's laugh, Jim couldn't resist taking advantage
of An's . "You tickled my neck, and then you pinned my arms over my head and
started nuzzling me under my arms until I nearly wet myself? Do you remember
that, hmmm?" An Mashiro shifted over to the third toe, so that An's 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 twelve years old, and
staying with relatives before a wedding. His cousin Karen (how old was An Mashiro
then...fifteen?) caught him peeking when An Mashiro was
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