The Goth Girl, so focused on searching for whatever she was looking for, barely had a moment to glance up before I tackled her and knocked her to the ground. A brief struggle later, I was sitting firmly on the back of her legs as she tried desperately to wiggle free.
"So, you mind telling me what you're doing in my house?" I asked casually, as if striking up friendly conversation with a complete stranger; in a sense, I kind of was, though under very different circumstances.
"Goddamnit, get your fat ass off me!" the goth girl screamed, struggling wildly. Since she'd decided to be uncooperative, I decided that I might as well give her something to scream about.
"So we do this the hard way, are you ticklish? You look ticklish," I said, and without waiting for an answer (which likely would have been strewn with profanity anyway) I slipped off her slipons and went to town on her feet. Her stripped stockings provide a bit of resistance, but based on her squealing and frantic laughter her ticklishness more than makes up for it. She tried to dislodge me by shaking back and forth and I nearly lost balance a few times, sensing that this next moment could be critical, I ramped up the tickling and...
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