"You're on!" I grinned, feeling pumped. "You won't last two seconds against me!"
"Keep telling yourself that," Said Aimee, smile twitching at the corner of her pouty lips as she reached out to tickle me again and I recoiled. "Wow; I keep forgetting just how ticklish you are. Remember last time?" She smiled at me sweetly.
I subconsciously lay an arm over my belly protectively at the memory; Aimee knew full well about my obsession with tickling her, but the short girl had always feigned ignorance while almost casually paying me back. Truth be told, I had never actually gotten to really tickle her, but certainly not for lack of trying. I just had terrible luck. Oh, sure, I'd gotten in a fair number of surprise pokes, squeezes, and other brief tickles here and there, but there was always some circumstance that allowed her to get the upper hand whenever something big came up.
At at least one party, we had both independently tried to talk the other guests into gang-tickling the other. She had apparently been the more persuasive one, and I had ended up on the carpet, shirt pulled over my head and tied off to a railing or something, with at least six people holding me down and going at me! Those pervy guys must have been at it for hours, tickling em all over. Of course, they eventually turned on and tickled the crap out of Aimee too, but it was still one of the most intense nights of my life. And I was clearly the loser.
Other times, she'd convince my brothers to tickle me when she thought I planning something. They've never needed much convincing or much of an excuse, and many are the times when Aimee would sit back, smiling serenely to herself, watching them tickle the crap out of me on the lawn or couch. Often with my own tickle tools, too!
Another time, deciding belatedly that it was better to go it alone, I had invited her on an over-night hike, up in some secluded hills. Since I was bigger and stronger, it should have been a cinch to find an excuse and pin her down for the tickling that she so richly deserved. 'Should have'. The little red-head had all the luck; while going feet-first under a tree on the trail, I got pinned between it and my backpack, completely stuck. And -wouldn't you know it?- my shirt had gotten caught and pulled up, exposing my entire belly, and before I knew it Aimee was on me, 'helping' me to get un-stuck be providing an incentive: Tickling me until I escaped.
Later, when pitching the tents, I accidentally got tangled in all the canvas and poles (Hey! Those things are more complicated than they look!), and ended up hopelessly stuck. Well, guess what Aimee decides to do? It was not a good day to wear a sports-bra and flip-flops, no matter how alone we were and how warm it was. She already knew full-well from watching my brothers what happens when you introduce a feather to my feet or my belly...
Then, there was the way I had sat down in the canoe on the return-leg, with my legs stretched out and pinned in place by the way we had piled our gear. Resulting in my feet being stuck under the seat in front of me- conveniently, the one Aimee was on. Before I knew it, my 'flops were off, and I could hardly paddle from all the mischievous little tickles Aimee was giving my trapped and helpless feet. If I even moved more than a little, the canoe would have capsized -having to just sit there and take it until we landed was torturous, especially since neither of us was rowing much and took us twice as long as normal. Let's just say the trip wasn't a smashing success...
And now, I could recall a certain incident where I had gotten stuck with my arms sticking up through a too-small inner tube, neatly pinned together, practically blinded from the doughnut of rubber around me head. And Aimee taking the opportunity for teasing and poking at my sides for what felt like ages while I tried to keep my balance. It only ended when she had convinced some surfer-boys to hold me down and take advantage of the compromising situation I was in and the defenceless ticklish body exposed therein. It was just like that time she buried me in the sand, only leaving my feet dug out next to a suspicious pile of gull-feathers, and, well, you can probably guess what happened whenever someone walked by that stretch of beach...
...Which, come to think of it, hadn't been very far from where we now squared off. So, all in all, I was not un-eager for this chance to tickle Aimee, even as I recalled a small percentage of the various 'last times' we had had together. I mean, don't even get me started on what happened at the amusement park. Or on that school-road trip for volleyball.
In any case, I crossed my arms, held me head up high, and proudly said
"Because you're so confident...
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