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your stepmommy greets you at the door, eyes you with that familiar mischievous sparkle. “back for another tickle challenge?” she asks, a teasing grin slowly spreading. “I know your absolute weakest spot.” You give a brave smirk, but inside, you know exactly what’s coming: your inner thighs, the Achilles’ heel of your tickle defenses. You love this game. She starts with light, teasing touches on your ribs and sides. “Look at that! A little poke and you’re already laughing. What happened to ‘not ticklish anymore’?” Her voice drips with playful mockery, fingers dancing expertly. Next come the knees and feet, the usual suspects in the tickle game. “Can you handle the giggle button?” she taunts, wiggling her fingers on your knees and curling her fingers around the arches of your feet. The squirming ~ stepMommy's squirmy wormy wiggly giggly good boy. ~ you think I was too easy on you last time you want more~ more tickling, more tummy raspberries ~ you think you can handle it ~ but I know you'll lose your mind all over yourself