Truth Or Dare Ch 1 1

Gruesome's, on a Friday night. It's one hell of a place to be, if you like hard rock, hard drugs and easy sex. I could care less about the music, didn't touch drugs, but oh, everyone had been telling me it was more than time I do something about my virginity.

Like lose it, you know?

But I was scared. I loved daddy, and I didn't want to upset him. I'd secretly been dreaming for months that he'd be the one to take it, and I'd been saving it for him. I didn't want to give it away to some cheap asshole who would never ask my name.

It's Megan, by the way.

So tonight it was girl's night out. Julie, a sweet little blond, really didn't belong with the rest of us. She was a straight A student studying to be a doctor. How heroic! But I think she liked the thrill of seeming to do something dangerous, so she came along some Fridays, but everyone knew she was out of place. There were plenty of guys who wanted to pierce her prissy veneer, or maybe it was something else they wanted to tear into, but with her pretty blue eyes, her heart-shaped face, and those conservative clothes, she definitely taunted them.

Beth was a hottie, and a real slut. She had jet black hair to die for, and these haunting green eyes that stayed with you forever. Course, most guys never even looked at her face; they liked her big tits, and how her black miniskirt showed she wasn't wearing anything underneath. But she wasn't a tease; offer her enough money, or even just a good line, and she'd go home with you, and take it all off.

And Sandy, she wasn't anything to look at, brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin, and wide-rimmed glasses that would have looked better on her grandfather. She was also a little overweight, but most guys said what the hell, 'cause she gave great blow jobs.

I'm not s'posed to know what one of those is, but well, hanging around with Beth and Sandy, I know. I've even watched a few, when the guys couldn't wait.

What do I look like? I'm not that hot, I don't think. Daddy's never been tempted, anyhow, so I guess ... well, anyway, big blue eyes, but they're hidden behind glasses, too. Long, auburn hair ... I'm not fat, not skinny, just tall with long legs. Julie says it's called coltish. I dunno; I've been clumsy all my life, while my body took its time growing into my legs.

So tonight we were drinking ... well everyone but Julie, who was drinking Coke. Me, I had along Island ice tea. It tasted just like lemonade, and I knew it would kick my ass if I wasn’t careful.

"Hey, guys, you wanna have a little fun?" Beth asked, looking at us over her rum and Coke.

Julie asked warily, "What kind?"

"Truth or dare," Beth said happily, looking around at all the college guys. "Just us playing, but all of them to play with."

Julie started to shake her head, but I had to pipe up. "Oh, come on, Jules, what could be the harm?"

"Plenty!" Julie retorted succinctly.

Sandy was all for it, though, and as so often happens, Julie found herself outnumbered three to one. Unwilling to leave the bar on her own, she reluctantly agreed.

If I'd known then what I know now, I would have sided with Julie.

Julie got to go first. I don't even remember the question, something about Beth's dreams for the future, some white picket fence nonsense like that. No one ever took dares on Julie's questions, 'cause they were so puritan. How can anyone growing up in our society be so damned innocent?

But Beth easily heated things up. "Megan, what's the naughtiest dream you've ever had?"

I could feel myself blushing even before she had finished the question. I couldn't tell her about the daddy dreams.

How could I? In one, I was stretched out on that silky cloud of pillows and comforters he calls a bed. There were two big panthers at the foot of the bed; each of them had one of my ankles in their mouth. It was clear ... squirm, and you'll be missing a foot.

My hands were tied to a ring above the bed; I was all spread out, on display for daddy, and he was hovering over me, his wings extended, shrouding me in darkness, that and his scent ... it's kinda like lavender. I could see his cock, stuck out from his body, but ... nothing happened. He told me he'd teach me how to be his big girl, but then ... then I tried to squirm, and one of the panthers bit me, and I could feel blood running down my leg, and I woke up.

Oh, I was all wet, I've got to tell you. I lay there in bed, rubbing my fingers along my slit, 'cause I felt so funny. Finally, I sorta squirmed a lot, and my fingers got even wetter. I felt better then.

I wiped my hand on my breast, and oh, my nipples were so sensitive. I nearly cried out at the tingling it evoked.

Is that being a woman, daddy?

Anyhow, as I thought about all these naughty dreams, Beth and Sandy were staring at me.

"What? Oh, yeah, right, the question!" I stammered, trying to think of something I could tell them.

That dream with daddy had disturbed me, and I was afraid to confess it. They would never understand how I’d wanted to beg him to fuck me and then let the panthers have a turn ... so I made something up. Something they'd believe.

"Well," I began, thinking fast, "remember that dance we went to, where Billy got drunk and threw up all over Sharon's mink coat?"

Everyone laughed, even Julie. Billy was a prick. When Sharon had thrown him in the pool in her fury, everyone had wished she'd done something worse.

"Anyway," I continued. "There was that cute guy, Ian, who asked me to dance. Well, I dreamed that after the dance, he said that he was really hot for me, and wanted me to come out to his car."

Both Beth and Sandy were interested, and Julie was already blushing.

"So I went, figuring I'd have something to tell you guys, 'cause you're always after me to go get laid. In the car, he locked both doors, and unzipped his pants. He had this monster cock, it was huge, and he told me to kiss it."

Sandy and Beth laughed, but Julie looked like she wanted to crawl under the table.

"I'd watched you guys plenty, and I knew what to do, but it's a lot harder than it looks. He tasted funny, and was so huge ... I sucked on him for a while, and he got mad, and told me I was doing it wrong, and then he started moving in and out of my mouth, real hard. When I tried to pull away," and here I trailed off, for effect.

"What happened?" Beth asked eagerly.

"I tried to get away, but he kept pushing it in. He grabbed my head and pushed it down on his cock, and told me if I didn't do it right, then he'd tell everyone I couldn't even give a good blow job. I didn't want people to know I'd even tried, so I began to suck again. It kept quivering in my mouth, and finally it exploded, and white creamy stuff spilled out."

I paused once more, then plunged on when I saw I had their attention. "He got so mad at me, because at the last minute, when he thought I was gonna take it on my own, I pulled back, and it sprayed all over my face, and on his upholstery." He slapped me, and threw me out of the car, leaving me to sneak back into the party and try to clean up before anyone caught me.

"Oooooooh," Julie squealed, drawing the attention of a couple bikers who'd been wanting a taste of her for weeks now.

She hastily turned away, but Beth and Sandy were satisfied. For the moment.

I glanced between Sandy and Julie; neither of them had answered a question. I put my finger in my mouth, and sucked at it contemplatively.

Then I turned on Sandy, who was sipping at her martini nonchalantly.

"Sandy," I began, smirking, "tell us about the first time you gave a blow job. Exactly how did you get so good?"

Sandy, who was never troubled by anything, began to blush. And it wasn't just a little thing, oh no. Beth, sensing paydirt, turned to squeal, "Yeah, Sandy, come on, tell us about the first time."

Julie, I was almost certain, was going to slip beneath the table and just crawl away. Somehow she managed to say, "You could always take dare, Sandy."

Sandy shook her head vehemently. "Oh, no, then Megan will have me demonstrating good blow job techniques right in the middle of Gruesome's."

"Hey, that's not a bad idea," I said smugly, "I'll save it up for later."

She threw me a scathing look, and spun her drink idly.

"Come on, Sandy," Beth prompted, "tell us about it, girlfriend."

With a resigned sigh, Sandy began.

"It was my senior year in high school, and I’d just turned eighteen," she said softly, her cheeks still crimson. "Mom and dad were breaking up, my brother Chris was drinking all the time, and my younger sister Lisa kept talking about running away. Things were just a mess; I wasn't doing very well in school."

Beth's eyes widened, but I hushed her with a finger across my lips; let Sandy tell the story.

"So, when I failed my math final," Sandy went on, "I didn't know what to do. I wanted to go to college, and I knew this wouldn't look good."

Smiles and soft sounds of commiseration greeted her confession, and buoyed by the warmth and caring of her friends, Sandy went on. (Fuck that, we just wanted some dirt on her.)

"I don't know how it happened," Sandy went on. "I went to see my math teacher, Mr. Green. I wanted to see if there was any way to improve my grade." She sighed. "Everyone thought he was a real cutie; he maybe was 24, with long, black hair that he usually wore in a ponytail, a scar across his right cheek and the most gorgeous blue eyes. He was about six feet tall, dark, maybe looked Hispanic, though I don't know, with a name like Green. It didn't matter; talking to him always left me breathless."

"He was real sympathetic, but said that at this late date, there was nothing anyone could do; I started to cry, and told him about all the awful things at home, and you could tell he felt bad. He pulled me close, and held me, and started rubbing my shoulders. Then his hand drifted down and cupped my breast, and squeezed gently. It felt so good; I wasn't wearing a bra underneath, and I know he liked that, because he smiled, and lowered his head to kiss me on the cheek. But I wanted more, suddenly knowing what I could do to fix my grade. I turned my head, and our lips met, and oh it was heaven."

She sighed dreamily, recalling. "It was the first time I'd ever done anything like that. He parted my lips with his tongue, and all of a sudden we were Frenching. And it was so good; he tasted good. I was wearing a blue sweatshirt, and kind of tight jeans ... ok, they were really tight, because Paul told me that he liked the way they showed off my ass, and I liked Paul, you know. Mr. Green's hands slipped up under my sweatshirt, and each grabbed abreast, at first just squeezing while he kissed me. But then, he moved to my nipples, and he began to pinch them. I gasped, and pulled away, and he asked me if I wanted him to stop."

She laughed, a husky sound that I knew guys liked. "I wasn't about to say yes; if he was gonna be my first, I couldn't ask for better. I said, Oh, no, Mr. Green, just tell me what you want me to do. He chuckled, and went back to kissing me, and squeezing my nipples. I just leaned into him; he smelled like cinnamon and leather, sorta, and I couldn't help but feeling safe. But every time he pinched my nipples, I groaned, it felt so good, the way the pain spread out, becoming a warm, sensual tingle before too long, and he would only kiss me, bite at my lips, just tease me with his mouth."

How could she spend so much time on a kiss, I wondered? A kiss is just a kiss, right?

"Anyway," Sandy continued, perhaps sensing that I was bored, "he then told me to take off my clothes, so he could see all of me. Right there in his office. As I started to undress, he went to the door and calm as you please he locked it. When he turned back, I was perched on his desk, legs spread, naked as can be, my clothing in a heap on the floor. He smiled, and stepped closer, running his hands all over me. I was trembling, but it wasn't with fear. He asked me if I had ever done anything like this before. At first I was mad. What do you think I am, I cried, a slut? No, no, Sandy, he murmured, as his fingers found my slit. I was wet, can you believe it? I tried to squirm away, not wanting him to know, but he gripped my shoulder with one hand, and parted my pussy lips with the other, running a finger up and down the cleft. Oh, Mr. Green, I whispered, that feels so good."

She had our undivided attention now, perverts that we were. Even sweet Julie, still sipping at her Coke, was pretending not to listen, while she leaned forward, avidly curious.

"He drew me to my feet, then, and wiped his hand on my stomach. I remember being embarrassed, feeling dirty as he spread my juices across my bare belly, but he didn't seem bothered by it. He unbuttoned his pants, releasing his cock, and it was probably not all that big, but it seemed big at the time, as it sprang out to stand at attention.

"It's happy to see you, Sandy," he said, placing his hands on my shoulders, and pushing me down onto my knees. "Why don't you kiss it?"

I started to shake my head, but he caught my nipples between his fingers, and pinched, hard. Tears came to my eyes, and I pressed my face against his thighs to hide them. He smelled good, still, sorta musky, like the wild animal scent I sometimes smell when out at grandma's farm. I cried out when his cock brushed my cheek, but it was silky soft and yet hard, and not gross at all.

"Let's see if you can give an A blow job, first time out," he rumbled, placing one hand at the nape of my neck, while the other still played with my breasts.

And I knew I had to. But I wasn't sure what to do. So I kissed the tip of him, shy and fleeting, and he groaned a little. "Take him in your mouth, baby," he coaxed, and now his touch on my nipples was an ache that made me want to obey him, it felt so good. "And while you do, put your hand between your legs, and show me how you play with yourself, how you masturbate at night."

"I don't masturbate," I protested, but he only laughed.

"Of course you do, Sandy. Come on, show me how you do it."

I couldn't believe it, but soon his cock was in my mouth, and with his hand on my neck, he was guiding me, showing me how to move up and down on it. He told me to suck, not blow, to imagine that his cock held a milkshake that would make me get the best grades ever, if only I could drink all of what was inside it. It was difficult, at first; his shaft slipped between my lips, filling my mouth till I could barely breathe, and the smell of him became intense. A few drops of white, milky liquid appeared at the tip, and when I licked them off, they were salty and tasted strange.

In the room, all I could hear was my own ragged breathing, the sucking sounds as my mouth worked around his cock, and his own occasional grunts and murmurs of encouragement. It was hard, but I must have been a natural, even then, because soon I had a rhythm going, and slowly he plunged into my mouth, till almost all of him was there.

While I sucked him, my fingers were plucking at my love button (that's what my friends called it) and I was squirming, getting wetter and wetter right there in his office. I slipped a finger inside my pussy, while my thumb flicked back and forth across my clit, my own movements matching his still-slow fucking of my mouth.

The first time his cock twitched, I jumped, but he only said, "It likes you ... now get ready, I need to go faster."

And with that, he began to move his hips, no longer waiting for me. I tried to fight at first, but oh, he wouldn't take no for an answer. He began to growl, slamming into my mouth harder and deeper, until he hit something at the back of my throat, and I gagged; that drew a throaty chuckle from him, and I felt his cock really begin to quiver. Now he held my head with both hands, driving his shaft into my mouth relentlessly, till his balls slapped against my face, time and again. The beating of his flesh against me, my utter helplessness to prevent this pillaging of my throat, turned me on, and I slipped another finger into my cunt, maintaining the tempo, faster now, till my palm ground against my sex, my fingers questing deeper and deeper inside me.

"Just a little longer, baby," he promised, as my fingers flicked at my clit. My juices were really flowing, and they splashed my belly and his pants and everything as I knelt there in his office, working on my math grade.

"You're going to be a good little slut," he murmured, and my cheeks glowed with pride. "I'll bet you'll get good grades all throughout college," he continued, and then his cock went deeper than it had yet, and I couldn't even breathe. I hung there, thinking he was going to kill me, choke me to death ... and then this hot, creamy juice was flowing down my throat in thick, ropey strands.

"Drink it all, baby, and you'll get that A," he promised, one hand holding my head firmly in place, not letting me pull away, and the other pinching so hard at my nipples that I wanted to scream.

And as his cum poured into me, I began to quiver, my whole body spasming, as if I, too, was happy. Juices spilled down my legs; it was never like that when I masturbated alone.

He tasted nasty, but would you believe, I drank it all, and then cleaned him off when he told me to, using my tongue to lick all along the underside, and over his balls, too.

Eventually, he told me to get dressed, and that if I came back regularly, he'd see to it that I got good grades all year. As I turned away, he slapped my ass, and it felt good, too. Everything felt good. Guess it's why I'm good at blow jobs, but bad at math, huh?"

She trailed off, blushing, and I began to applaud. "Who's gonna buy a drink for the math teacher who taught Sandy to suck cock so good?" I called into the crowd, and several people raised their hands. Shortly, we had more free drinks than we knew what to do with, and Sandy had a few offers of a different nature.