Mike looked like a rock star left in the 80's, like one on U2. 6' blond, shoulder length hair & bright blue eyes. His skin was ruddy, prone to deep blushing, and a smattering of blond chest hair revealed from his ever-unbuttoning shirts (sometimes he'd just unbutton his shirt from the top down, but often his buttons at the bottom of his shirt would just come undone, which would lead him to open his shirt).

Mike was also a bit of a tough guy, prone to saying he was gonna kick your ass and then jumping on you with friendly headlock. I got a real charge out of turning the tables on Mike, wrestling him down with one arm trapped over his head, then attacking his underarm with a merciless tickling onslaught. He was helpless and knew it, laughing and cussing for the fifteen minutes or so until I tired of the game and let him up.

He glanced up at me then and said "Man, that was pure torture." I looked him steadily in the eyes and told him he deserved worse. Our rooms in the dorm were near each other, and we got along better with each other than with most of the other guys, so we palled around a lot. Once we'd wrestled around a little and got to know each other's moves and limits a bit better, we would go at it about every day.

After dinner, we would retire to Mike's room, where he had sky-blue shag and his beds arranged like an "L" sofa to watch MASH. During, or after, we'd start ribbing each other, trading insults, pokes in the ribs or pinches in the ticklish part of the neck. He was really sensitive there.

A favorite of mine (when things were going MY way) was to have Mike sittin' on the floor, leaning against a bed, with me on the bed behind him. I'd goad him into taunting me, then retaliate by going for his neck. He would writhe, but not out of my grasp, then settle down for a few minutes after the commercial, and he'd start up again, with delightfully predictable results.

Things didn't always go well for me though, even considering the Mike was slow to retaliate in kind, usually pinning or twisting me into submission when he was lucky enough to leverage his strength/weight advantage. One of the guys we did hang with was Gary. Gary was tall and sleek, with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes, with a brilliant smile. He earned extra money modeling, which added to his physical arrogance & dominant style. Gary was not a nice guy. He was one of those guys who made it his business to study pain pressure points and demonstrate his mastery of your body at random. Mike and I had each gone at it with Gary, and within moments he'd just wrap us up like a pretzel, and then... things would get interesting. If you were pinned facing Gary, he'd lock with your eyes and this beautiful wicked slow grin would light up his face, and then he'd begin his torment of you. He'd grab and twist a nipple, start yanking chest hairs one-by-one, twist an appendage until you cried out, or IF he had you good, he'd start counting your ribs. Not lightly, he'd dig his slender fingers deep into your ribcage and wiggle a lot. He'd hold the lock with your eyes while he experimented, and Gary took his time. The longest he ever held Mike or I prisoner like that was almost 2 hours (poor Mike!)

The time I was thinking about, though, was this one day we were hanging out and something I thought was hilarious came on TV, and I started laughin' big time, but I was munchin' chips, so I grimaced at the same time. Then Gary did a repeat of the scene right after I had another mouthful and I was overcome with laughter again, and complained. Ooops. That evil gleam came into Gary's eye and he grabbed Mike neck forcefully and said "let's get him!"

My blue shirt was already unbuttoned, and before I knew it I was flat on my back on the floor with Mike pinning my arms overhead, and Gary perched gleefully on my stomach. He somehow got me to open my mouth and shoved a chip in, then started doing a strongman dance under my arms with his fingers. I had jeered Mike last time Gary got him, which was hilarious, so Mike put his face real close to mine with a big grin while I was howling. Gary continued to tickle me mercilessly for at least 15 minutes with no sign of getting bored. I was hoarse by then, but Mike was taking pity - AND wanting in on my misadventure. So he made Gary take an arm and then one of them was on each side of me, each holding an arm up. Gary was back with a chip, which Mike got me to open up to by going in on my stomach. I was already so sensitized from the onslaught that his tap-tap tap scratch tap, while much softer than Gary's digs, had me giggling non-stop, which only encouraged Gary to move from my pits back to my left-side ribs. They continued on this way until I was exhausted, but not before we had attracted the attention of some other guys in the hall, namely Larry (who has a cruel streak all his own) and Todd, the football God. They were cracking up and egging the other two on, but didn't join in... that time.