So this is where the PG-13 thing comes into effect. Oh, and you better be
a pretty precocious 13-year-old. :)
There is detailed discussion of lesbian sex, some of straight sex as well. There is significant buildup for a sex scene, though not an actual sex scene. I had a great deal of fun with this, but that's me.
Read, review, but if you're just going to tell me lesbians are evil and immoral and I'm going to hell, please spare me. Though in that case I don't know why the hell you'd be reading a Rentfic in the first place. :)
Chapter 3
MAUREEN
Truth or Dare. Am I brilliant or what?
I mean, it was so simple. She was already drunk, and that's all you need, really. Drunk people are just looking for an excuse to spill their guts. I'd had a few drinks, but I wasn't drunk. I felt a little guilty over that, like I should get drunk to keep her company, but - no. I wanted to be able to remember this. I knew what was coming. When it comes to sex, I've got radar like you wouldn't believe, and last night it was blipping all over the place. It was more like a steady beeeeeeeeeeeep by the time she'd kicked off those shoes and settled on my couch. Rrrrrr.
And it was so easy to convince her! She sat down and then she leaned towards me, looked me straight in the eye and says "So, what do we do now?" like it's a come-on. It wasn't, I know her better than that, but hon, it's a good thing pleather doesn't soak through. I don't think I'd have been more turned on if she'd leaned forward that way and said "Fuck me now." So I thought, for a second, and then my brilliance just shone right on through and - without missing a beat - I said "Let's play Truth or Dare!" In the kind of voice you'd use at a fifth-grade sleepover. And she bought it. I knew she would.
It started out tame enough. It always does. She wouldn't take any dares, it was all truth, but I knew it was going to be that way. And she wouldn't give me any dares either, but there's plenty of time for that later. I let it stay innocent for awhile. What was your most embarrassing moment, who was your first kiss, what's the stupidest thing you've ever done. Boring, but I was patient. I can be, when I need to be. When being patient means scoring.
Actually, she was the one who started it towards raunch. We'd been playing for awhile, getting nowhere, and I was actually thinking we should just call it a night when she said it. She was on maybe her tenth drink by then, and I'm sure she'd been dying to ask this. She blurted it out, fast before she could change her mind, with just enough drunken confidence to carry her through. "Have you ever been with a man?"
It was my moment. I couldn't let it go.
"Oh. been with a man how? What does that mean, sweetie?" I could barely resist purring. I figured I'd better save some treats for later.
She rolled her eyes, or tried. "Had. Sex. Maureen."
"Oh. Well, of course, honey."
Her eyes got bigger. "Really? Who?"
I laughed. "You got your truth. Ask me next time around. Truth or dare?"
"Maureen!"
"Truth or dare, sweetheart?"
"Oh, for God's sake. Truth."
She'd started it. I wasn't going to let the advantage go. "When was your first time?"
"First time what?" she asked, mimicking me.
"First fuck, dear." She flushed, or at least I think she did, it was damn hard to tell by then. "When and who?"
I don't think she noticed that was two truths. "Brian Bowman. Twenty- four. Truth or dare?"
"What?" I knew it was going to be bad. I didn't know it was going to be that bad. "Twenty-FOUR? What, were you planning on being a nun?"
She shook her head, looking annoyed. "No. I was just waiting for the right guy. Truth or dare?"
"And he was the right guy? Brian Bowman? What the fuck kind of a last name is Bowman anyhow? Was he bow-legged?"
"No, and are you jealous?"
"You know it, sweetcakes. So tell me, was Brian Bowman the right guy?"
She hesitated, then shook, not her head, but her whole body, like she was trying to snap out of something. "It's not my turn, I'm not answering, leave it alone. Truth or fucking dare, Maureen?"
That caught me by surprise. Joanne doesn't swear. "Truth," I said, after a minute.
She glanced down. "Sorry."
"No problem. So ask me the question."
"Um." She shook her head again, trying to clear it. I could have told her it was a lost cause. "Oh. Right. How many men've you been with?"
"You want me to count?"
"Well, why not?"
I had to laugh. "Well, how the hell am I supposed to do that?"
She stared. "Maureen!"
"You asked!"
"But - aren't you a lesbian?"
"Not by a long shot, hon. I'm bi all the way."
"But - then - how many guys?"
"Does it really matter?"
"Well, I asked! You have to answer!"
"All right, all right! Except -" I had to laugh yet again. "I don't know!"
"Oh, come on, you can't even *estimate*?" Though it came out more like "essimate."
"I don't know, more than twenty, less than fifty? Somewhere around there?"
Her jaw dropped. It was pretty funny. "And how many girls?"
"I got into girls a little later. Probably only fifteen, twenty girls."
"So we're talking a minimum" - she didn't quite get that one either - "of thirty-five people here."
"Glad you can still add. Well, sure. I lost it at fifteen, I'm twenty- eight now. It's not that many when you figure it out. Thirty-five people over thirteen years works out to like." I'd had a few drinks, but if I fudged the estimation she wasn't going to be able to tell. "That's like four people a year. One every three months. I'm reasonably committed."
"Oh for heaven's sake!"
"Well, are we counting one-night stands? Without those my average goes way down. I just like some fun and variety when I'm not attached, sweetie. And how do you define sex with between lesbians?"
She was totally fuddled by then, and definitely blushing as well. "You'd know better than I would."
"Well, I mean, with a guy he has to penetrate, right? So if we're just talking strap-on sex with girls, I've only been with like two women."
I could see her wanting to ask more questions, but I knew she wouldn't dare, so I just kept right on going. "It's all so weird, isn't it? Like if a guy fingers a girl no one ever considers it sex, but if it's girl-on- girl then they figure she lost her virginity then and there. And oral sex, same deal. So tell me, Joanne, am I counting all the girls who've fingered me, ate me out, *or* used a strap? That's where I got the fifteen, but you tell me, what does 'lesbian sex' mean?"
She was staring open-mouthed. But I was enjoying this too damned much to let it go now.
"Truth or dare?" I said finally, when she'd cleared her throat but made no attempt to say anything.
She blinked. Once, twice. "What?"
"Truth or dare."
"Oh." She thought for a second. "Can I ask you something?" she said, leaning forward again.
"Well, it's not my turn -"
"Oh, stop the game for a second, I want to know."
"Oh, all right." I crossed my legs, making damn sure the pleather stretched as tight as it would go. "What is it?"
"Why me?" she asked, just like that.
"Playing at Nancy Kerrigan, are you?"
"Stop it, Maureen, I'm serious. Why me? Why are you so - attracted to me?"
Oh, Joanne. I'm sure she'd retch if she knew how sweet and, well, young she can sound sometimes. Lawyers aren't supposed to be sweet or young. "I don't know. I mean, I was at that bar, with Mark, and you were there, and you'd just broken up with what's-his-ass -"
"Robert."
"Right, what's-his-ass. And you were sitting there, and you looked so out of place, sweetie, really, sipping at that drink and trying to pretend you were having fun, and it was like - you were different from everyone else, you know? And you caught my eye and -" I had to lighten this somehow, I wasn't going to - to open it up like this - "and I just noticed you had a really nice rack, and I figured, what the hell?"
She glared, flung a pillow that came nowhere near me. "Thanks. You know, that was nice till you got to the end."
"Well, I -" Now I was fidgeting. "I kind of meant the first part more. I mean - yeah." Oh my God, I don't talk that way to anyone. Where did the sex kitten go? I needed her then!
"Oh, Maureen," she said, and I thought she was going to cry. Really. Jesus Christ. And then she leaned forward and kissed my cheek. Her lipstick was cool and sleek and oh-so-sexy and it was mostly worn off anyway so it was just the touch of soft skin against my cheek and I thought I was going to die if I couldn't have her right there.
But patience is everything.
"Truth or dare?" I said, trying to collect myself.
"Who's Mark?" she asked. A true drunk, always three steps behind.
"Mark? The guy I was seeing. Truth or dare?"
"You were seeing a guy."
"Good, hon, good for you for picking up on that. Truth or dare?"
"And you dumped him for *me*?!"
"Well, it was getting boring anyway."
"You dumped your boyfriend for some girl you'd never even talked to that you saw in a bar?"
I was wearying of this. "Truth or dare, Joanne?"
She glared at me, then suddenly spat it out. "Dare!"
I was going to ask her to kiss me. I really was. Then I thought - how awful would that be, taking advantage of her that way?
So what came out instead was "A dare? Oh, goody! Take off your shirt."
JOANNE
"Take off your shirt," she said. And I'd asked for a dare. And I was drunk.
So I did it.
The buttons were really tough just then, but I got them undone somehow. I slipped the shirt off my shoulders. "Truth or dare?"
"No, no, no!" she said, squealing. "The bra too!"
I laughed. "You just said the shirt!"
"But I meant the bra! You know that! Joanne!"
I looked at her, practically salivating over me, eyes glued to my chest, and all of a sudden I felt - sexy. Sexier than I'd ever felt in my life. None of the guys I'd been with had ever made me feel like this. Not this powerful, this sudden, heady rush. I had power over this girl. She wanted me. I could tease her as long as I wanted. She'd go crazy over me.
"Well, you've seen boobs before," I said, testing the waters. She giggled. She tossed her head. She begged.
I reached around to the back and slipped the catch on the bra. It fell silently into my lap. I thrust my chest out as far as it would go, looked back at her with what I was hoping, by that point, were bedroom eyes.
She took a good long look, then raised her eyes to my face. "Nice." Drawing out the sibilant at the end of the word, letting it die off into the silence.
I swallowed. Hard. It was a little cold in the room. My nipples were tightening. I knew she was noticing.
"Truth or dare?" I managed, and shivered. My nipples had formed into proud little peaks that I was resolutely trying to ignore. Maureen wasn't.
"Dare." She flipped her hair back from her eyes, flashed me a challenging smile.
I should have asked her to take her shirt off too. I meant to. What came out, though, was "Kiss me."
She did.
There is detailed discussion of lesbian sex, some of straight sex as well. There is significant buildup for a sex scene, though not an actual sex scene. I had a great deal of fun with this, but that's me.
Read, review, but if you're just going to tell me lesbians are evil and immoral and I'm going to hell, please spare me. Though in that case I don't know why the hell you'd be reading a Rentfic in the first place. :)
Chapter 3
MAUREEN
Truth or Dare. Am I brilliant or what?
I mean, it was so simple. She was already drunk, and that's all you need, really. Drunk people are just looking for an excuse to spill their guts. I'd had a few drinks, but I wasn't drunk. I felt a little guilty over that, like I should get drunk to keep her company, but - no. I wanted to be able to remember this. I knew what was coming. When it comes to sex, I've got radar like you wouldn't believe, and last night it was blipping all over the place. It was more like a steady beeeeeeeeeeeep by the time she'd kicked off those shoes and settled on my couch. Rrrrrr.
And it was so easy to convince her! She sat down and then she leaned towards me, looked me straight in the eye and says "So, what do we do now?" like it's a come-on. It wasn't, I know her better than that, but hon, it's a good thing pleather doesn't soak through. I don't think I'd have been more turned on if she'd leaned forward that way and said "Fuck me now." So I thought, for a second, and then my brilliance just shone right on through and - without missing a beat - I said "Let's play Truth or Dare!" In the kind of voice you'd use at a fifth-grade sleepover. And she bought it. I knew she would.
It started out tame enough. It always does. She wouldn't take any dares, it was all truth, but I knew it was going to be that way. And she wouldn't give me any dares either, but there's plenty of time for that later. I let it stay innocent for awhile. What was your most embarrassing moment, who was your first kiss, what's the stupidest thing you've ever done. Boring, but I was patient. I can be, when I need to be. When being patient means scoring.
Actually, she was the one who started it towards raunch. We'd been playing for awhile, getting nowhere, and I was actually thinking we should just call it a night when she said it. She was on maybe her tenth drink by then, and I'm sure she'd been dying to ask this. She blurted it out, fast before she could change her mind, with just enough drunken confidence to carry her through. "Have you ever been with a man?"
It was my moment. I couldn't let it go.
"Oh. been with a man how? What does that mean, sweetie?" I could barely resist purring. I figured I'd better save some treats for later.
She rolled her eyes, or tried. "Had. Sex. Maureen."
"Oh. Well, of course, honey."
Her eyes got bigger. "Really? Who?"
I laughed. "You got your truth. Ask me next time around. Truth or dare?"
"Maureen!"
"Truth or dare, sweetheart?"
"Oh, for God's sake. Truth."
She'd started it. I wasn't going to let the advantage go. "When was your first time?"
"First time what?" she asked, mimicking me.
"First fuck, dear." She flushed, or at least I think she did, it was damn hard to tell by then. "When and who?"
I don't think she noticed that was two truths. "Brian Bowman. Twenty- four. Truth or dare?"
"What?" I knew it was going to be bad. I didn't know it was going to be that bad. "Twenty-FOUR? What, were you planning on being a nun?"
She shook her head, looking annoyed. "No. I was just waiting for the right guy. Truth or dare?"
"And he was the right guy? Brian Bowman? What the fuck kind of a last name is Bowman anyhow? Was he bow-legged?"
"No, and are you jealous?"
"You know it, sweetcakes. So tell me, was Brian Bowman the right guy?"
She hesitated, then shook, not her head, but her whole body, like she was trying to snap out of something. "It's not my turn, I'm not answering, leave it alone. Truth or fucking dare, Maureen?"
That caught me by surprise. Joanne doesn't swear. "Truth," I said, after a minute.
She glanced down. "Sorry."
"No problem. So ask me the question."
"Um." She shook her head again, trying to clear it. I could have told her it was a lost cause. "Oh. Right. How many men've you been with?"
"You want me to count?"
"Well, why not?"
I had to laugh. "Well, how the hell am I supposed to do that?"
She stared. "Maureen!"
"You asked!"
"But - aren't you a lesbian?"
"Not by a long shot, hon. I'm bi all the way."
"But - then - how many guys?"
"Does it really matter?"
"Well, I asked! You have to answer!"
"All right, all right! Except -" I had to laugh yet again. "I don't know!"
"Oh, come on, you can't even *estimate*?" Though it came out more like "essimate."
"I don't know, more than twenty, less than fifty? Somewhere around there?"
Her jaw dropped. It was pretty funny. "And how many girls?"
"I got into girls a little later. Probably only fifteen, twenty girls."
"So we're talking a minimum" - she didn't quite get that one either - "of thirty-five people here."
"Glad you can still add. Well, sure. I lost it at fifteen, I'm twenty- eight now. It's not that many when you figure it out. Thirty-five people over thirteen years works out to like." I'd had a few drinks, but if I fudged the estimation she wasn't going to be able to tell. "That's like four people a year. One every three months. I'm reasonably committed."
"Oh for heaven's sake!"
"Well, are we counting one-night stands? Without those my average goes way down. I just like some fun and variety when I'm not attached, sweetie. And how do you define sex with between lesbians?"
She was totally fuddled by then, and definitely blushing as well. "You'd know better than I would."
"Well, I mean, with a guy he has to penetrate, right? So if we're just talking strap-on sex with girls, I've only been with like two women."
I could see her wanting to ask more questions, but I knew she wouldn't dare, so I just kept right on going. "It's all so weird, isn't it? Like if a guy fingers a girl no one ever considers it sex, but if it's girl-on- girl then they figure she lost her virginity then and there. And oral sex, same deal. So tell me, Joanne, am I counting all the girls who've fingered me, ate me out, *or* used a strap? That's where I got the fifteen, but you tell me, what does 'lesbian sex' mean?"
She was staring open-mouthed. But I was enjoying this too damned much to let it go now.
"Truth or dare?" I said finally, when she'd cleared her throat but made no attempt to say anything.
She blinked. Once, twice. "What?"
"Truth or dare."
"Oh." She thought for a second. "Can I ask you something?" she said, leaning forward again.
"Well, it's not my turn -"
"Oh, stop the game for a second, I want to know."
"Oh, all right." I crossed my legs, making damn sure the pleather stretched as tight as it would go. "What is it?"
"Why me?" she asked, just like that.
"Playing at Nancy Kerrigan, are you?"
"Stop it, Maureen, I'm serious. Why me? Why are you so - attracted to me?"
Oh, Joanne. I'm sure she'd retch if she knew how sweet and, well, young she can sound sometimes. Lawyers aren't supposed to be sweet or young. "I don't know. I mean, I was at that bar, with Mark, and you were there, and you'd just broken up with what's-his-ass -"
"Robert."
"Right, what's-his-ass. And you were sitting there, and you looked so out of place, sweetie, really, sipping at that drink and trying to pretend you were having fun, and it was like - you were different from everyone else, you know? And you caught my eye and -" I had to lighten this somehow, I wasn't going to - to open it up like this - "and I just noticed you had a really nice rack, and I figured, what the hell?"
She glared, flung a pillow that came nowhere near me. "Thanks. You know, that was nice till you got to the end."
"Well, I -" Now I was fidgeting. "I kind of meant the first part more. I mean - yeah." Oh my God, I don't talk that way to anyone. Where did the sex kitten go? I needed her then!
"Oh, Maureen," she said, and I thought she was going to cry. Really. Jesus Christ. And then she leaned forward and kissed my cheek. Her lipstick was cool and sleek and oh-so-sexy and it was mostly worn off anyway so it was just the touch of soft skin against my cheek and I thought I was going to die if I couldn't have her right there.
But patience is everything.
"Truth or dare?" I said, trying to collect myself.
"Who's Mark?" she asked. A true drunk, always three steps behind.
"Mark? The guy I was seeing. Truth or dare?"
"You were seeing a guy."
"Good, hon, good for you for picking up on that. Truth or dare?"
"And you dumped him for *me*?!"
"Well, it was getting boring anyway."
"You dumped your boyfriend for some girl you'd never even talked to that you saw in a bar?"
I was wearying of this. "Truth or dare, Joanne?"
She glared at me, then suddenly spat it out. "Dare!"
I was going to ask her to kiss me. I really was. Then I thought - how awful would that be, taking advantage of her that way?
So what came out instead was "A dare? Oh, goody! Take off your shirt."
JOANNE
"Take off your shirt," she said. And I'd asked for a dare. And I was drunk.
So I did it.
The buttons were really tough just then, but I got them undone somehow. I slipped the shirt off my shoulders. "Truth or dare?"
"No, no, no!" she said, squealing. "The bra too!"
I laughed. "You just said the shirt!"
"But I meant the bra! You know that! Joanne!"
I looked at her, practically salivating over me, eyes glued to my chest, and all of a sudden I felt - sexy. Sexier than I'd ever felt in my life. None of the guys I'd been with had ever made me feel like this. Not this powerful, this sudden, heady rush. I had power over this girl. She wanted me. I could tease her as long as I wanted. She'd go crazy over me.
"Well, you've seen boobs before," I said, testing the waters. She giggled. She tossed her head. She begged.
I reached around to the back and slipped the catch on the bra. It fell silently into my lap. I thrust my chest out as far as it would go, looked back at her with what I was hoping, by that point, were bedroom eyes.
She took a good long look, then raised her eyes to my face. "Nice." Drawing out the sibilant at the end of the word, letting it die off into the silence.
I swallowed. Hard. It was a little cold in the room. My nipples were tightening. I knew she was noticing.
"Truth or dare?" I managed, and shivered. My nipples had formed into proud little peaks that I was resolutely trying to ignore. Maureen wasn't.
"Dare." She flipped her hair back from her eyes, flashed me a challenging smile.
I should have asked her to take her shirt off too. I meant to. What came out, though, was "Kiss me."
She did.