Author's Note: This story is submitted as an entry in the 750-Word Story Event. Please keep that in mind if you wonder why the story isn't longer or more developed!
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The lights dimmed. The movie would start soon, but first the trailers would play.
I felt a hand, loose on my thigh. It wanted to play, too -- my twin brother Joey's hand.
I don't know how it started, but during the summer when Joey and I came home after our sophomore year of college we played a game we called "wandering hands."
It started innocently, on the sofa, while watching TV. One of us would put a hand on the other, fingers extended in the form of a spider, and the spider would wander over the other's body until it found a spot that it tickled.
Joey had the advantage, because he was far less ticklish than I was. With little effort he could reduce me to helpless, spastic writhing and uncontrollable shrieking.
As the weeks passed the game grew less innocent. Our hands touched parts of one another that brothers and sisters did not normally touch. Neither one of us pushed too far, but a few times Joey pushed far enough that he left me with heavy breath and flushed skin.