He'd sometimes ask, if I wanted him to massage my back.
At first I didn't agree at all.
But one day I had already complained about my backache a lot throughout the day and finally allowed him to give me a massage.
Of course that wasn't his only intention.
I was ticklish; very ticklish.
And during the time I laid on the floor, crying off laughter, with him tickling me, I forgot my desire to vomit.
YOU ARE READING
10 things to do.
RomanceIn which a boys' job is to keep me busy after eating. W A R N I N G eating disorder and sad stuff happening
