Looking down at him sheepishly, moving my hands to his ribs ready to tickle him. His mood changes, his chocolate brown eyes seeming to grow deeper as ...e gazes up at my downturned face. “Are you sure you want to do that honey?” he’s challenging me, I know how much he hates to be tickled. “Why wouldn’t I want to?” I shoot back at him, eyebrows raised grinning wildly. He lifts his hips up to meet mine, the seam of his jeans pressing into my crotch. He looks calmly back at me, knowing what he’s. The next day I meet him at his house before collage. He is standing behindme and reaches round me to undo a few more buttons on my shirt. He looks overmy shoulder and down it to check I'm wearing a black bra. He pulls up my skirtenough to check I'm wearing stockings. He smoothes his hand over my arse tocheck I'm not wearing anything else. All this time I've been forcing myselfto stand still and submit myself to this inspection. The back of my neck itchesand I'm longing to turn and face him. I'm. More

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