I'm Debby Wright, but most of my friends call me "Debby Dare." I'm a buxom lass, with big beautiful tits, a big round killer ass, a three pack (half a six pack), sculptured thighs, naturally blond hair, blue eyes, and a usually moist hairless pussy; and extremely humble (ha, ha).
I must have the gene that craves excitement because - to re-state the obvious - I crave excitement. I've never intentionally done anything life-threatening [I'm not an Evil Kenevil], but I sure have done some bizarre things, many of them just plain sexual, or with sexual overtones, most as a result of goading by my friends.
As examples: While in high school, in the 4th of July parade in my home town, ala Lady Godiva I rode on a white horse with just my bikini bottom on, only my long blond hair barely covering my big tits. In college, I fucked the librarian in the stacks at high noon. At work, after a co-worker "pennied" my male boss in his office so he couldn't get out the door, I pressed my bare ass against a transparent panel of his office wall.
So a few weeks ago, I was having a beer with some of my co-workers, Brad, Simon, Tina and Louise, after work at the bar in a local restaurant. We were reminiscing about the pressed ham incident (the boss never figured out who it was, and he was fired by the home office soon thereafter for unrelated reasons), when Louise asked if I'd ever gone completely naked in public.
"Sure," I said, "many times."
"Bullshit," Simon, Tina and Brad blurted out, virtually simultaneously.
"It'll cost you $20 each if you want me to prove it," I retorted.
After the three skeptics each laid a Jackson down on the table, I gave the money to Louise to hold, pointed out the window to a newspaper vending machine across the street, got 50¢ out of my purse, and said "Let me get a paper for you."
Since it was summer, I had little on -- just a sundress, bra and panties. I walked outside, quickly removed them, held them under my arm as I ran across the street in my birthday suit and got a newspaper from the vending machine. I then ran back, holding the paper over my head in triumph.
As I was running to-and-fro, my mammoth tits were bouncing up and down so much they almost bruised my stomach and poked out my eye (ha, ha). No wonder I wear a jog bra when exercising!
It was still very light outside, so there were lots of stunned looks by passers-by. Of course all of the guys who saw me were hooting and hollering, with many cell phone cameras pointed my way (maybe I'll be a You-Tube star). I didn't have to worry about traffic, though; all cars came to a halt as I ran across the street and back; lots of horn honking, but not out of anger, more joyful than hateful sounds. I don't think I caused any auto accidents -- I hope not!
I had a big smile on my face the whole time. I enjoy being naked no matter what the circumstances, so it was great fun for me. I would have done it just as a dare with no money involved -- the $60 just made it that much sweeter.
When I triumphantly returned, I put my dress back on outside the restaurant, not bothering with my bra or panties, and returned to the table with a self-satisfied grin. While Tina was pissed, Brad and Simon each has saucers for eyes, and said the show was well worth the $20. "Next time I'll make it $100," I replied.
Over the next few weeks, my co-workers schemed to find ways to win their money back with various dares, taunts, and challenges involving escalating levels of exhibitionism, public nudity, and voyeurism. But contrary to their expectations, I was getting a lot more spending money, and they were crying in their beers. It culminated when I shocked them by accepting a dare to crawl under the table at the restaurant and suck off Simon. He ended up embarrassed, first because he had a really ugly dick, and he knew it, and second because I didn't swallow but rather made him cum all over his pants. I thought that might put an end to their dares, but not so.
Perhaps I was getting too cocky. But I couldn't help myself; damn I was good! Then one Friday I arrived at our normal watering hole after the other four were already ensconced in our conventional seats. I didn't realize they were playing me when they offered to buy my libations, telling me I was too classy for beer and purchasing mixed drinks for me instead. They continued to flatter me, lauding my bravery and appearance, as I got more and more high.
Eventually Brad pulled a $100 bill out of his wallet, ostensibly to use to pay our tab. Before doing that, though, he started laughing. When Tina asked what was so funny he said "I wonder if I dared Debby to fuck anyone in the restaurant named Ben Franklin," (whose visage appears on the front of the $100) "if she would?"
"Why would I?" I asked.
"I guess you have become too complacent in view of your past winnings," Simon teased, "The Debby we knew and loved would take that dare in a heartbeat. Let me sweeten it. I'll add a Franklin of my own."
"What if there is no Ben Franklin in the joint?" I queried, knowing it was very unlikely there would be someone named Ben Franklin in a place having a maximum capacity of 100 with a good number of them women.
"Then you get $200 bucks without having to do anything," was Brad's retort.
"I'm in too," Tina and Louise said almost in unison, each pulling a hundred out of their purses.
I was a combination of too brash and too high to realize I was being set up so I agreed.
"Come with me, Debby, and let's see if we can find a Ben Franklin," Brad entreated.
