The Strip Dare — That Got Out of Hand
The party was winding down when someone produced a bottle and suggested a game. There were maybe eight of us left in the basement — mostly girls from my dorm floor, a couple of guys from the basketball team. I was 19, a few drinks in, and feeling reckless.
"Truth or dare," said Becca, spinning the bottle. It landed on me.
"Dare," I said without hesitation.
Becca's eyes glinted. "Strip to your underwear. Right now."
Everyone hooted. My face flushed, but the tequila in my bloodstream told me it was a fine idea. I stood up, pulled off my dress in one motion, and stood there in a matching black lace set I'd bought precisely for a moment like this. The room went quiet.
Marcus, the point guard with the killer smile, didn't take his eyes off me for the rest of the game.
The bottle spun again. Landed on me again. I chose dare. "Kiss the hottest person in the room," someone said.
I walked directly to Marcus. Straddled his lap. Kissed him deeply while everyone cheered. I could feel his cock hardening under me. When I pulled back, his eyes were dark.
"My turn," he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
The game dissolved after that. People drifted upstairs or paired off. Marcus and I stayed on the basement couch.
"You're incredible," he said, his hand on my thigh. "That dare..."
"I wanted to do that since I got here," I admitted.
He kissed me again — slower, more intense. His hands explored my body over the lace, squeezing my breasts, gripping my hips. I straddled him again, grinding against the bulge in his jeans. The friction made me gasp.
"I want to taste you," he said, and I nodded eagerly.
He laid me back on the couch, hooked his fingers into my panties, and pulled them off. His mouth was on me before I could take another breath. He ate me out like he'd been starving for weeks — messy, enthusiastic, his tongue doing things that made me clutch the armrest and bite my pillow.
I came on his face, my thighs shaking, and he looked up at me with the wettest, most satisfied expression.
"Your turn," I said, pushing him back.
I knelt between his legs, unzipped his jeans, and freed his cock. He was big — longer than anyone I'd been with before. I took him in my mouth, working the shaft with my hand while my tongue teased the head. He groaned and grabbed a fistful of my hair.
"Taylor, I swear, you're gonna make me—"
I hollowed my cheeks and took him as deep as I could. He came with a shout, hot and thick, and I swallowed everything.
We lay curled together on the basement couch, listening to the sounds of the party continuing above us.
"Best game of truth or dare I've ever played," he said.
"Me too," I agreed. "Me too."