The following happened about 10 years ago, maybe 11. I can't remember. I'll have more stories as my brain randomly decides to pull a memory from it's hard drive. Hope you enjoy.
I had a co-worker named Diane, at the time mid 40's, one of those "10-15 years ago, they were a knockout" types - she has these KILLER green eyes, but she had aged a bit. She took an instant liking to me; I was fun and different from the normal mold of corporate employee, me being young, sarcastic and immature. It didn't help that I was notorious for sneaking up on her from behind and pinching her sides. She always referred to me as "a little punk" because of my childish antics. I changed jobs after a few years, and her and I started chatting during a smoke break. Knowing I was in IT, she informed me her personal computer was having problems and wanted to know if I would check it out. I agree, and we set-up a day after work where I'd stop over.
I arrive, she's dressed very casually - t-shirt, khaki shorts, barefoot. After chatting for a few, I get onto the floor where the computer is and start to disconnect everything (because God forbid someone keep a computer where it’s easily accessible...). I started banging, cursing, etc while disconnecting everything. She asked if I was ok - told her "yeah, just don't tickle me or kick me." (I had planned for something like this to happen - if they tickle me, I can tickle them back; if they kick me, I grab their ankle and tickle their foot.) Fully expecting a kick, I start to brace, only she reaches down and starts tickling my stomach, which caused a legitimate THUD of my elbow on her desk. I start laughing and trying to curl up, telling her to stop but to no avail. She puts her hands under my shirt, despite my pleas and threats to get her back, she keeps tickling for about 30 seconds, laughing the whole time. I start catching my breath, she's just sitting in her chair laughing. I tell her "go away" and get back to work.
After I got her computer working again, we chatted for a few minutes and I tell her I need to head out, so she turns around to walk me to the door. Right as she turns around, I quickly wrap her up and playfully tackle her to the floor, pinning her on her stomach. I quickly straddled her and used my knees to keep her arms up, and said "But before I go, I owe you something" and dig my fingers into her underarms. She started laughing, fighting to get her arms down but couldn’t, doing more of a waving of hands. I started working on her ribs after a couple seconds, and while they weren’t really ticklish, I knew her sides were. I started alternating between underarms and sides, taunting her with “I told you I’d get you back, but did you listen? Nooo,” with her responding with “get off me you little punk” in between laughing fits. This goes on for about 10 seconds when she started kicking her legs back and trying to kick me off her (surprisingly flexible I must say). Realizing this, I waited for the next kick and latched onto her ankle. Her reaction was immediate: “don’t you dare!”
Deciding to play a bit, I just responded “don't I dare what?” “DON’T DO IT!” “I have no clue what you’re referring to.” This exchange goes back and forth for about 15 seconds, and finally I say “oh, you mean do this?” and lightly run my finger along her arch up to her toes. She let out a shriek and started screaming “DON’T! STOP!” “Oh, you said don’t stop? OK!” and I dug my fingers into her foot.
I go back to taunting her while tickling. For the next 2-3 minutes, I’m alternating between her foot, underarms and sides; she’s laughing uncontrollably. I figured she had enough, so I got off of her and helped her up. Immediately she punches me on the shoulder and goes “you’re such a punk” while giving a slightly irked laugh. I just said “but I got your computer working” in a sarcastic/confused tone, at which she replied “yeah, you did. But you’re still a punk” in a laugh. I quickly motion as if I’m going to strike again, she scrunched her body and goes “ok – ok. You’re not a punk.” As I straighten up, immediately she replies “punk.”
We both cracked up and chatted for a few minutes before I took off. Our relationship is still the same, though I don’t see her as often as I used to. But to this day every time she sees me, it’s always “hey punk! How are you?” Guess some things you can’t outgrow...
I had a co-worker named Diane, at the time mid 40's, one of those "10-15 years ago, they were a knockout" types - she has these KILLER green eyes, but she had aged a bit. She took an instant liking to me; I was fun and different from the normal mold of corporate employee, me being young, sarcastic and immature. It didn't help that I was notorious for sneaking up on her from behind and pinching her sides. She always referred to me as "a little punk" because of my childish antics. I changed jobs after a few years, and her and I started chatting during a smoke break. Knowing I was in IT, she informed me her personal computer was having problems and wanted to know if I would check it out. I agree, and we set-up a day after work where I'd stop over.
I arrive, she's dressed very casually - t-shirt, khaki shorts, barefoot. After chatting for a few, I get onto the floor where the computer is and start to disconnect everything (because God forbid someone keep a computer where it’s easily accessible...). I started banging, cursing, etc while disconnecting everything. She asked if I was ok - told her "yeah, just don't tickle me or kick me." (I had planned for something like this to happen - if they tickle me, I can tickle them back; if they kick me, I grab their ankle and tickle their foot.) Fully expecting a kick, I start to brace, only she reaches down and starts tickling my stomach, which caused a legitimate THUD of my elbow on her desk. I start laughing and trying to curl up, telling her to stop but to no avail. She puts her hands under my shirt, despite my pleas and threats to get her back, she keeps tickling for about 30 seconds, laughing the whole time. I start catching my breath, she's just sitting in her chair laughing. I tell her "go away" and get back to work.
After I got her computer working again, we chatted for a few minutes and I tell her I need to head out, so she turns around to walk me to the door. Right as she turns around, I quickly wrap her up and playfully tackle her to the floor, pinning her on her stomach. I quickly straddled her and used my knees to keep her arms up, and said "But before I go, I owe you something" and dig my fingers into her underarms. She started laughing, fighting to get her arms down but couldn’t, doing more of a waving of hands. I started working on her ribs after a couple seconds, and while they weren’t really ticklish, I knew her sides were. I started alternating between underarms and sides, taunting her with “I told you I’d get you back, but did you listen? Nooo,” with her responding with “get off me you little punk” in between laughing fits. This goes on for about 10 seconds when she started kicking her legs back and trying to kick me off her (surprisingly flexible I must say). Realizing this, I waited for the next kick and latched onto her ankle. Her reaction was immediate: “don’t you dare!”
Deciding to play a bit, I just responded “don't I dare what?” “DON’T DO IT!” “I have no clue what you’re referring to.” This exchange goes back and forth for about 15 seconds, and finally I say “oh, you mean do this?” and lightly run my finger along her arch up to her toes. She let out a shriek and started screaming “DON’T! STOP!” “Oh, you said don’t stop? OK!” and I dug my fingers into her foot.
I go back to taunting her while tickling. For the next 2-3 minutes, I’m alternating between her foot, underarms and sides; she’s laughing uncontrollably. I figured she had enough, so I got off of her and helped her up. Immediately she punches me on the shoulder and goes “you’re such a punk” while giving a slightly irked laugh. I just said “but I got your computer working” in a sarcastic/confused tone, at which she replied “yeah, you did. But you’re still a punk” in a laugh. I quickly motion as if I’m going to strike again, she scrunched her body and goes “ok – ok. You’re not a punk.” As I straighten up, immediately she replies “punk.”
We both cracked up and chatted for a few minutes before I took off. Our relationship is still the same, though I don’t see her as often as I used to. But to this day every time she sees me, it’s always “hey punk! How are you?” Guess some things you can’t outgrow...
Thanks for sharing your experience here. 
