I gulp down the beer as quickly as possible, feeling it settle unpleasantly in my tummy, then set the cup aside. I'm continuing to look for Zoe and Sel when I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I turn to see a beautiful girl who looks vaguely familiar, indicating that we probably had a class together at some point or another. She looks to be similar to my height of 5'8" with shoulder-length black hair, brown eyes, and dark brown skin, and her gray mini skirt and ruffled white crop top printed with greek letters accentuate her curves. She says something over the music and jumbled voices, but I can't make it out.

She leans in closer, holding onto my shoulder with one hand. "It didn't look like you were enjoying that."

I shake my head and place one hand flat on my belly. "No," I shout back, "It was awful, it made my stomach hurt." I smile when the girl giggles, and she beckons at me to follow her. We make our way through the living room and push through the crowded kitchen until we reach the counter where the drinks are. I watch as the girl pulls out two cups and then grabs a few different bottles of alcohol, deftly pouring in different amounts of each.

After a moment she turns, handing me one cup and keeping the other for herself. Then she takes ahold of my elbow and steers me to the opposite side of the kitchen, where there's a sliding glass door. We step outside, and it's a relief how the music becomes quieter when I close the door behind us. "What's this?" I ask, grateful not to need to scream in order to be heard.

"Try it," she says, stepping closer to me with her own cup in hand. "You'll like it a lot better than the last drink you had." She clinks our cups together, and then takes a sip. I follow suit. The drink is surprisingly fruity and burns pleasantly in my throat.

"What do you think?" I try not to jump when she places her hand on my belly as I drink.

I lower the cup, still half full, and smile. "It's great, thank you!" I exclaim. "I think it's helping my belly recover from that horrible beer." We both giggle and to my disappointment she moves her hand and continues drinking. I do the same, until my cup is empty.

"Here," she says, taking my cup. "I'll go get more." Before I can speak she disappears back into the house, and I hear the music level rise loudly as the door opens, then die down as it shuts behind her. I shrug and take a seat on one of the outdoor sofas on the porch. I only need to wait a few minutes before she reappears, handing me my cup before closing the sliding door behind her and sitting down on the sofa next to me. She sits close, with her leg pressing against mine and our shoulders touching.

"Thanks," I say again, taking a sip of the new drink. It's slightly different than the last, but still with a pleasantly fruity tang. "You're great at mixing drinks."

"Thanks, it's one of my talents," she responds. She begins drinking quickly, and not wanting to be left behind, I finish my drink quickly as well. When my cup is empty again I set it down on the porch and place a hand on my tummy.

"Is your belly still alright?" she asks, placing her own cup on the ground. She gently pushes my hand away and replaces it with her own. I try not to blush as I watch her start to slowly rub my stomach. "You drank a lot really quickly."

"So did you," I point out.

"Yeah, but you look like a lightweight," she teases.

Her hand makes gentle circles around my belly and I blush, partially at the feeling and partially at her words. "I kind of am," I admit, and she laughs.

"I just wanted to make you a better drink, not give you a bellyache." We settle into a comfortable silence as she continues rubbing my stomach. The pleasant, soft touch soothes my belly and helps it settle with all the alcohol, and I feel myself growing more and more relaxed. That is, until her fingertips brush across the rim of my navel and my stomach tenses, sucking in automatically.

I blush, hoping it can't be noticed in the darkness of the porch, and sneak a glance at the girl, who looks curious and amused. "Is your belly ticklish?" she asks, using one finger to poke the skin next to my belly button. The tensing of my stomach and my quick intake of breath tells her everything she needs to know, and I nod.

"That's adorable," she coos. She places both hands on my bare, exposed belly and begins to wiggle her fingers. Caught by surprise, I start giggling, but try to stop myself from pushing her away. I put my arms behind me and lean back, propped up in a way that leaves my stomach stretched out for her to tickle. "Tickle, tickle, tickle," she teases. Her fingers move from my side to my belly to my side in a wiggly dance. "Do you always show off your belly even though it's so ticklish? You must get tickled all the time!"

My blush deepens every time she says the word 'tickle.' "I don't get tickled that much," I say while laughing.

"What a shame, your belly's so fun to tickle!" she exclaims. Her fingers wiggle across my shaking tummy and my laughter grows louder the closer she gets to my navel. "Oh, is this a ticklish belly button?" she asks, circling around the rim of my navel with the pad of her finger. "That's so cute! Does it tickle if I do this?"

She pokes one of her fingers into my belly button and swirls it around gently. I laugh even harder, unable to speak and only shaking my head. Her finger pokes the bottom of my navel, gently wiggling over the sensitive knot at the bottom. I try to move to push her away from my belly button, but when I move I end up collapsing backwards on the sofa, laughing uncontrollably.

I hear her laughing as well, but the tickling stops and the finger in my navel is replaced by a soft hand that rubs gentle circles over my shaking belly. "You might have the most ticklish belly button in the world," she teases. "It's incredible."

"Aren't you ticklish too?" I ask breathlessly, still lying down.

She shrugs. "I am, but I won't tell you where," she says with a wink. "My belly isn't ticklish at all though." She leans in closer, inviting me to touch her deep, oval-shaped innie that's bared by her crop top. I stick my finger inside, where it disappears down to the second knuckle. My eyes widen. "You have a really deep belly button," I murmur, blushing.

She shrugs again and giggles. "Yeah, but it isn't ticklish at all," she says, watching with a look of fascination as I move my finger around. True to her word, she doesn't laugh or squirm, or seem at all ticklish.

"Wait here a minute," she says, standing up as soon as I remove my finger. "I've got an idea."

She quickly walks across the porch and back into the house, where she disappears into the kitchen. I slowly sit up and wait for her to return, which she does a moment later with a small bottle in her hand. "Have you ever done a belly shot?" she asks, and without waiting for my response she lies down on the sofa and hands me the bottle. "Here, my belly button is great for it!"

Blushing and unable to speak, I uncap the bottle and slowly pour the vodka into her belly button. It takes a moment to fill up, and when I re-cap the bottle I stop to stare at the pool of clear liquid resting in her deep navel.

"Go ahead," she insists, gesturing to her stomach. I lean down and carefully cover her belly button with my lips, then begin to suck up the alcohol. I go slowly, savoring the moment, and finish by poking my tongue inside her belly button. It's difficult to touch the bottom but I probe down until my tongue swipes across the flat bottom of her navel. When I pull away and look up at her, still blushing deeply, I see a smirk across her face.

"Now it's your turn," she says playfully. She takes the bottle and gently guides me back down onto the sofa until I'm in a horizontal position. Then she uncaps the drink and starts pouring. I try not to flinch when the cold liquid hits my navel, but I'm not very successful. "Your belly button is just so sensitive," she comments.

She puts the bottle aside and slowly, slowly leans down until her lips are pressing against my bare skin. That touch alone makes me giggle, and I can't stop myself from laughing when she begins to drink the vodka in my belly button. When she's finished she doesn't pull away, instead poking her tongue into my belly button like I did and using it to tickle the bottom of my navel.

When she finally moves away I'm breathless from laughing, and I rest one hand flat on my tummy. "I don't think I can take any more," I say breathlessly, patting my trembling stomach. She laughs at me.

Body Shot Story of the Day: My Sorority Tickle Fantasy