And you can't actually tell me how I feel about my own levels of ticklishness." So we all just guesstimate somewhere around there. "I said a seven, but I think that's in the same way people rate their own attractiveness. "What did you put as your ticklishness level?" Do you want me to give you more feedback on what works for me? Secondly, shouldn't you have the potential for an occasional dud built into your operating costs?" "Well, first off, I'm REALLY trying here. I pulled my hands out of my cuffs and sat up. I don't know how much of this we're going to be able to use."įuck that. I was forcing out some "heh, heh, hehheh" sounds when an exasperated Brian looked up from the camera, glanced at Josh, then spoke to me. The possible damaging effects of those lyrics aside, this reliably laugh-inducing ritual was apparently the standard to which I held all future tickles, and Josh wasn't even coming close. Hitting the word "me" at the end would turn that nonchalant knee graze into a two-hand assault that would all but have me pissing my pants. "Tickle tickle on the knee / If you laugh / You don't love me!" They'd sing this two-line song to the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" while gently swirling a finger around my kneecap. I flashed back to my parents tickling me as a kid. To a liberal, aware-of-his-own-privilege male such as myself, the worst outcome of this whole arrangement wouldn't be if I somehow found myself enjoying the proceedings resulting in some soul-searching afterward, but rather that my lack of arousal and interest could somehow be misconstrued as homophobic or sex-negative.
The innocence of the pee-wee soccer tournament teams milling about the lobby did nothing to put me at ease.ĭrawing upon years of being that white guy that just doesn't look like he belongs in this scene, I galvanized my resolve to go into the shoot as the straight guy who is just so damn comfortable with his own sexual identity/orientation/whatever that a couple of dudes gettin' their tickle on wouldn't even be a thing, man. I arrived at a corporate Burbank hotel on a Saturday morning. Because we're in LA, these enterprises were, of course, established as a means of funding the dark comedy screenplay they co-wrote. The other is a bunch of shirtless guys blowing and popping bubble gum bubbles. These pornographers own and operate two subscription fetish sites.