At that, he lay on his side, resting his weight on his arm while leaning over me, studying my face as though wondering why I stopped moving. He gave me another poke, and I involuntarily spasmed again and glared at him. “Stop doing that!” I said to him, “I’m ticklish as hell.” “Dickless?” he muttered. “Oh, my lord… No! Ticklish!” I wiggled my fingers at him, trying to explain, and pointed to my sides. “I’m ticklish there. That’s why I spas-” Before I could finish, he copied me, wiggling his fingers and pressing them to my sides, his expression one of interest. “Stop! Stop it!” I shrieked,
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