Slowly, slowly you advance across the vastness of the foot, your own feet carefully being placed one before the other, none too hastily lest George notice an itch and decide to scratch it.
You trace the route of one prominent vein towards her ankle, wracked all the while with both worry at being discovered and terror at being too late. Still, you reach the imposing flesh wall, shadowed by the long, black skirt, without anything untoward occuring.
Looking up now, as you pause for breath, you wonder how you're going to be able to climb all the way up to your friend's lap. Even if she doesn't register your scampering attempts to pull yourself up her shin, are you strong enough to see out the journey to the end? Her skin is awfully smooth; normally a good thing, but you'd be ecstatic to see some stubble there now to provide handholds.
The other option is to rely upon the thick fabric of her skirt, climbing up the inside of that, with its plentiful stitching allowing much to hold onto. Of course, while the journey itself may be easier, once you're nearing the top you may find it hard to get back onto a flat surface.
So, what's it to be? This moment of calm is sure to be a brief one before Georgina starts fidgeting again!
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