Chapter 1: The games return.

Reminder. Even though I am trying to relate this to you as exactly as it happened, time has a tendency to color memories, and some of this happened quite a while ago now. I am sure my brother Peter will correct things when he reviews this. I just wanted the reader to know that even with the best of intentions, I may make a mistake here or there.

I had thought I was done with relating what happened to me, the final exposure of myself, on a dare, masturbating in front of Peter seemed a perfect place to stop. But as you will see, things changed not only me and Peter, but also how I approached my new feelings.

A bit of time passed, more than I had realized when I started cleaning up my notes and deciding to share the rest of my evolution. At the time I pick up the story, Talia and Peter are still living together, the aftereffects of what had previously happened still tingeing their daily lives, though it has faded somewhat into the past.

As before, apologies to Peter and others involved in this story. I tried my best to figure out what might have been going on inside their heads, but in the end, I really only know what I, Talia, was thinking, and I thought it made a better story told in a more traditional way.

It had been a few months since Talia had stopped letting Peter give her any dares. It had been fun for a little while, trying to recreate the excitement from that weekend, from all that Chuck86 had helped her act out, but it had quickly gotten awkward again, and the worse it felt, the less patient she got, until she finally blew up and told him to stop. He just did not seem able to read the signs, and she despaired of ever teaching him to understand her mood. She had resigned herself to her own quiet methods. Reading, continuing to share stories, just not in such an intimate manner.

She had published a couple more of her stories over the last few months, and though she did not get much feedback, it was always good to hear the almost always positive feedback. She knew she had a tendency to bounce from topic to topic, story to story, chasing whatever was her particular interest that month, so she tried to keep her readers aware of what she was working on. She spent less and less time online, where she met ChuckBC, though she did enjoy her experiences whenever she ventured in. She was beginning to find just as much enjoyment in writing her longer stories as she did in the requisitely brief interludes online. Still, when she got a particularly interesting bit of feedback on her latest story, the one about what had happened with Chuck, she found herself exchanging notes and emails, opening up a bit about what had gone on since the ending of that story.

Through all the revisiting of history, she began to realize she had missed the fun and games, and the more she wrote and emailed about it, the more she thought about making it happen again. Only this time she would not let it screw up her and Peter.

One evening, after dinner, while they were sitting in the living room, she broached the subject of their long-ago spat.

“Peter, I know it’s weird, but I hate having this thing hanging between us.”

“What?”

‘You know. The dares. I want you to know. It was Ok, really, for quite a while. You knowing that I like to play games. You knowing that, obviously, I was also an exhibitionist even though that had never come up in the past. I liked having you know about it.”

“Yeah, it was, um, well, it was really fun for me, too.”

“I know, and it was really OK, when you would dare me to, you know, flash you or get naked or something. But that morning ... it wasn’t right.”

“I know, I know, I screwed up. I was not thinking right. I couldn’t help it. I thought somehow you just wanted to be pushed.”

“Sometimes, maybe, but, well. You gotta understand the signs. I was barely awake. I was feeling a bit bloated and stuff, and you just insisted on daring me, unable to read the silent cues that it was NOT a good time. I said no, and you just pushed, saying it was all part of my dare,

“I know, I know, god, sorry. I mean, what more can I do to make it up to you.”

“What I’m trying to say is - the reluctance, sometimes it is or can be part of it, but also I did not feel like you heard me when I said no”.

“Sorry. Really. I am”

“I know. But, well, I wanted you to know that I don’t hate you or anything, we just need to find a way so that doesn’t happen again.”

He looked at me, a faint hope in his eyes, though he was smart enough not to say anything.

“That. Well, that helps. I thought maybe I had wrecked your fun completely, you know. You couldn’t trust me.”

“Yeah, for a while I couldn’t. But I’ve been thinking. And, well, writing and explaining some of what happened to someone else, and I realized that we had left this unresolved. And I didn’t want that. Not at all.”

“Well, I’m glad T, really.”

“Oh, hush, Peter, I just hated the unspoken stuff.” With a smile and a nod, she ended the slightly awkward conversation, glad she had cleared the air, glad she had made him know she was not really mad. It had just gotten weird and odd. She had been rereading what she had written about the past, and the more she reread it, the more she missed what had gone on. She had told her reader that as well - and the more they talked (wrote) back and forth about ‘The Dare’, the more she wanted to make a go of it again, only this time not have it get weird

Talia was reading the latest note from her ‘The Dare’ admirer, and she began to think long and hard about what they were suggesting. He continued to be intensely interested in all that had happened, all the dares she had done, or might want to do, and was pushing to see if she was telling the truth, or only talking about it. He was basically daring her to give Peter a sign that the games might be on again, and he offered a couple of suggestions, though she was not really sure if she was ready to try this all again. It had been so intensely fun before, but she hated how awkward it had gotten. She thought she could make it better this time, but she was still uncertain. Sharing her concerns about it getting awkward, and needing to come up with a way to help Peter not screw up again, she dashed off her note and debated about doing what her reader had dared - as a way to safely, and a bit gently, get things going again: ‘Take a shower with the door open. Peter will know for sure then that things are all ok again.

Deciding that the shower idea actually was a very good way to make it clear that she wanted the games to begin again, Talia waited in the bathroom just off the hall between their rooms until she heard his key in the front lock before starting the water. Leaving the door open, she knew Peter would look in and know that Chuck, or whoever, had started up daring her again. As she began to shower, she realized it was all rather giddy and fun, taking a shower, wondering if Peter was watching, listening, waiting. While part of her thought he might say something while she was in there, he didn’t. But when she turned off the water and reached for a towel, she saw that he was leaning against the doorframe. Watching. Waiting. Talia didn’t say anything, just looked at him as she dried her face. Then, rather than drying off in the shower like she usually did (at least to start with, she could not get completely dry inside the wet shower), she got out and stood, looking at the mirror and ignoring him while she finished drying off. When she glanced over after a while, he was gone, and she could just barely hear him in the other room. She paused, looking at herself in the mirror, and wondered if she was nuts to do this all over again.

Talia had taken the time later that night to let her reader know how the shower had gone, her mind still filled with the excitement of it all. She was still worried that things might get out of hand again and was struggling to find a way to prevent that from happening. She had really hated it when she and Peter had not gotten along. Her fan’s reply the next morning made her start to relax. A little. They had come up with something that might work:wearing a bracelet or something similar whenever she was wanting or willing to ‘play’.

Talia had always liked to wear bracelets, not all the time, but off and on over the years, she had periods when she wore one or another bracelet as part of her daily attire. Knowing the significance of what she was doing, she looked over her collection, choosing three, and waited until after dinner. Peter had not said anything about her exposure after her shower, though she knew he had to be thinking that things were changing again.

During the break between his shows, when Peter went and got a refill for his drink, Talia darted off to her room and came back holding the three bracelets. One was three thin silverish bands together, one had amber settings, and the third silver one had a small dragon head eating its tail when it was all closed together.

After the long buildup in her mind, the choosing of an outward sign of her willingness to be dared again was rather anticlimactic.

“Say, I’m trying to decide which of these do you think looks the best?” Talia said, holding them out casually.

“Huh? Oh, they all are.” Peter simply said, turning back to his show, apparently not at all interested in Talia’s jewelry choices.

“Yeah, but, well, I want you to pick one.”

Peter stopped watching his show and looked at Talia with an odd look before nodding at the one with the amber settings. “That one is the nicest, I think.”

Talia slipped it on, holding it up to the faint light from the other room and smiling slightly. It was her favorite if she was being honest.