Chapter 1

“Okay Mom, I dare you to touch your toes!” Paul chuckled. It was the first day of summer vacation and my entire family was eating breakfast in the kitchen.

“Oh, you can do better than that one,” Tracy smiled at her son and bent over in front of him. She stuck her ass out. It wasn’t a sexual offer like “hey come have sex with me”. She was being playful.

My wife is an extrovert that loves life and she’s often naked or wearing very little around the house. She’s got a lot to show off. Long blond hair, HUGE boob job I bought her when we first got married – tits that are so unnatural but exude a sexuality that cannot be denied – like big balloons jutting from her chest.I have to admit the Doc may have gone a little overboard, but Tracy can’t deny she loves the attention those huge melons get her. She still looks great, nice figure with a small waist and a big butt. She’s almost always smiling.

She’s got a few piercings including her belly button and another smaller one on her clit, and surprisingly no tattoos. She smiles a lot, and she often has a little twinkle of mischief in her eyes. That’s what I love about her.Tracy is something of an extrovert. She loves attention but without any drama. She thinks nothing of being nude around the house. She has a body that is enviable to most women her age. She is fit and while she has a small derriere, it’s nice and curvy. Our kids have grown up around her nudity and aren’t shocked by her running around in the house naked even for breakfast. It is not uncommon for her to be fully naked while the rest of us wear clothing, and it’s not unusual for her to be performing dares for their amusement this early in the morning either.

I think of her as a dare devil mom. I don’t mean like Evil Knievel and his death defying stunts. My wife doesn’t like dares that can hurt people or offend people. That isn’t her thing. She likes silly dares -and you might say sexual dares.

You might think of an adult version of the game of “Truth or Dare” -except without the Truth part. My wife is honest to a fault. There are no questions that our kids or people that meet us that are off the table for her. I suppose if you think about it, the “truth” part of Truth or Dare would offer absolutely no challenge to my wife because she is always open and honest.

With Tracy, if you don’t want to know something, then don’t ask her.

She obviously gets a little adrenalin rush from some dares, but if you ask her, I think she would tell you that she gets off on doing them only if the other people watching are amused – especially the person that proposed the dare.

She’s extremely open minded about what kind of dares she’ll do, and she gets a sense of pride when she has to be stubborn and persistent to finish a dare.

My wife is very sexual, but she can be hard to satisfy sexually in bed through normal lovemaking. I think that she’s never felt as much satisfaction as she does when she completes a particularly challenging or amusing dare for someone else.

You probably won’t see her jumping through hoops of fire, or swimming with sharks. Those dares can be difficult, dangerous and challenging, but then we’d have to worry about her safety. The kind of dares my wife does are sexy or silly or sometimes a bit of both. I am glad she doesn’t do dares that could injure herself just to make someone else happy. I’ve been fine with the dares since before we got married. I don’t suppose it matters if I was fine with it or not though because Tracy has a mind of her own and probably be performing them whether I wanted her to do it or not.

It may sound weird to you, but I have four kids and they have been challenging her with playful dares like this for years. It’s never sexual – I mean not really. It may seem that way to bend over and stick your tush out. Paul certainly saw my wife’s bald pussy spread before him, the circle of her anus and even the piercing she has in her clit – but he’s seen it enough that I don’t think he processes it as unusual.

Paul is the oldest boy at 15 years old. He’s fun-loving like his brother Allan who just turned 14. It’s a pretty safe bet that if you say Paul around my house, then Allan is going to be close by. They get along well, and Allan was right there laughing at his mother at the kitchen table.

“I’ve got one!” Allan giggled. “Stick your finger in your doo-doo hole!” he snickered.

“Oh Allan, I’ve got to eat breakfast. Can’t I do a different dare for you this morning?” My wife’s blue-green eyes twinkled mischievously. She knew what Allan’s answer would be, but she had to ask.

“No, I dare you to plug your fart-hole and stay that way for breakfast,” Allan’s smile was about to crack his face as he dared his mother to do one of his favorite things at breakfast.

“Bent over? With my behind right In Paul’s face?” she stuck her finger in her mouth to get it wet. I just paid 80 dollars to have her nails painted and she slipped it in her asshole right in front of my son. Then she backed up playfully, made a ‘choo-cha-choo-cha-choo” train sound and sang in a sweet voice “Here comes the caboose, Paul! Whatcha-choo-cha-gonna-choo-cha-do”

Lilith rolled her eyes. My eldest has watched this spectacle or one like it play out around the house for years. She used to give her mom dares years ago but as kids get older their tastes change. Now, she is embarrassed of her entire family.

She dyes her hair blue, wears a leather collar with a dog tag, and mostly black baggy goth or emo clothes. She’s 17, smart, sassy, pretty and much more mature than her brothers. She is used to her mother’s silly antics, and she grumbles and complains but she usually just ignores them or makes some snide comment. The last few months in particular she’s been in a social coma and rarely if ever even speaks at the table. It’s just a phase, I am sure.

“Gross mom, your slime is dripping down your thighs,” Lilith’s tone of voice is a constant eye roll even if she isn’t actually doing it. On rare occasions, she will lighten up and be silly but today she wasn’t having it. I know my daughter’s comment was rude, crude and degrading but it generally rolls of her mother’s back like water off a duck’s feathers.

“I am practically a waterfall,” Tracy joked sarcastically. My wife is very bubbly and effervescent. She’s one of these people who always sees the good in people and laughs at life. She’s also been very open about her body and how bodies work with the kids – a little too open for my tastes but we’ll get to that.

My sons know that just like penises get hard or drip pre-cum that women get wet when they get aroused. She bounced her knees up and down and danced in place while bending over and sticking her butt out.

“It isn’t anything I can help, it’s perfectly natural, and I don’t have cream all over my thighs, Lilith,” she corrected with a coy grin as she looked over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at Lilith playfully.

“You could help by wiping yourself off and putting something on instead of being the Tracy Hotchkiss Tits and Ass Morning Show.

“Hey, leave Mom alone,” Megan my 16 year old daughter defended her mother. Megan used to run around naked with her mother when she was little, and she was always a big show-off back then. She’s inherited her mom’s blonde hair, pretty eyes and shape. As she matured, she stopped being goofy and playful like her mother, but she still tends to look on the bright side of things. “She’s just trying to have a little fun. Can we just have one breakfast without the two of you bickering.”

I would say that Megan is the peacemaker in the family. She wants the family to get along. Unfortunately, telling Lilith to do something usually ends in her wanting to do the opposite and Megan and Lilith started going back and forth as they often do at the table sniping at one another.

My name is David Hotchkiss. It’s NOT Dave, D-man, D-bag or Davey. It’s just David. I don’t have nicknames and I don’t like them. It’s a pet peeve of mine.

I am a lucky guy. I am a successful attorney with a nice house in California with a pool. I’ve got a smoking hot wife, I drive a Lexus, I’ve got four wonderful kids that love me. We are a family like any other American family with the same kind of ups and downs, arguments, and misunderstandings that any family has.

We do our own laundry, my wife does the grocery shopping and cooks the food, we aren’t rich but we certainly our not poor.

There are two things that make me us a little different. The first as you know is the dares. My wife loves to perform dares around the house. I’ve given her dares before, we all have. It’s usually something spontaneous that doesn’t take a long time.

We don’t dare her to do anything degrading but most people would be humiliated if they had to do some of these dares in front of their family.

As an example, my wife was using one hand to rip up bits of egg and pancake to feed herself while bending over naked. She was using her other hand to stick a finger in her butt while standing in front of her eldest son at the table for breakfast this morning.

You might think that is sexual, but to my wife she thinks it is funny and harmless. She knows the boys are going through puberty now looking at girls. Her answer to that is always that she doesn’t have anything that other girls don’t have and that the body is beautiful (hers especially).

She also looks at the dares as an opportunity to amuse other people. As long as they are laughing, she will eat it up. My boys were giggling their fool heads off while watching their mother shake her butt and dance by bending her knees while standing flat-footed in place at the table.

“Mom, why don’t you at least use your silverware?” Lilith had enough back and forth arguing with her sister and asked.

“Because it’s funny to use my fingers and I’d have to pick up my knife, cut my pancake, then pick up my fork,” Tracy snickered and did just that to illustrate how silly THAT would look. Tracy didn’t mind looking silly, but she usually only did when someone dared her. The boys yucked it up, and Megan laughed as well.

The laughter at our table was often hysterical guffaws, but it was also (and I was guilty of this well) derisive mocking laughter that was ridiculing my wife’s absurd antics. I love her with all of my heart, but sometimes she’ll do the dumbest things.

“Why don’t you at least tell them to stop laughing at you like that?” Lilith sneered.

“I’d rather my family laugh than sneer and look all gloomy like the world is going to end,” Tracy turned her head to look at Lilith and used her free hand to pantomime rubbing her crying eyes while she made a frowny face. “It’s better people laugh at me, than laugh at other people.”

“Do the funky chicken, Mom!” Megan called out a request.

“What’s the magic words?” Tracy was bouncy her knees, and her big tits were shaking under her body anyway. She was ready to dance.

In most households, the magic words are ‘please’ and ‘thank you’.

In our house, the magic words for Tracy were always; “I dare you!”

“I dare you, Mom! C’mon, I’ll sing it with you! Y’all come on in now, come right on down front

I got something I want to show you! Now y’all heard of the popcorn, y’all heard of the dog.” Megan began to bop her head and dance. “But now there’s a brand-new dance that’s going around I want to show you exactly what I’m talking about I’m talking about the funky chicken, y’all ready? I say y’all ready? okay, here we go”

The Funky Chicken song I grew up with was an old R&B tune by Rufus Tomas. It’s a happy funky tune that I danced along too when I watched Soul Train. The song has been remade many times since then, but the dance is still the same. It’s one of my wife’s favorite dances to do.

“I dare you to get up and dance with me, Megan!” my wife clapped her hands and began to dance in place. The funky chicken can be danced without moving around very much. “You raise the left arm up, and your right arm too Let me tell you just what to do, start both of ‘em to flapping!”

My wife withdrew her extended finger from her anus and thought nothing of flapping her hands. She stood up straight to do the dance and let her tits and ass shake. “Alexa play the funky chicken,” my wife called to our Alexa device to bring the beat.

She was standing with feet slightly apart. She tucked both hands under her armpits to make some wings and began flapping down on every beat while bending her knees to the funky beat. My boys joined in singing along with Megan, but no one got up to join my wife. They were happy to encourage my wife to get into it.

“No mom, I’ll sing with ya though,” Megan looked up at Lilith. Lilith was looking down her nose at her little sister and scowling as she often did. Megan kept clapping and singing, but I knew she was having second thoughts because of her older sister’s look of disapproval.

“Oh, party pooper! Refusing a dare!” My wife stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry. She continued bopping up and down but moved her ‘wings’ she was flapping under her arms to her buttocks. She pulled her butt cheeks apart and flapped them like wings as she had been doing when she began the dance. Each time she pulled them apart she blew another raspberry like she was farting.

Paul and Allan loved that kind of humor, and soon they both stood up and were clapping along.

“Oh good, some of you are fun! Let’s go boys! Dance with your mother! Do the chicken leg! Kick one foot out and back a little on 1 then place it back on 2 like this! Now, the other foot is kicked out on 3, and back on 4!” she was flapping her arms under her armpits again and hopping a bit as she kicked.

My boys are majorly uncoordinated like me, and they looked like total fools. I suppose their mother did as well.

“C’mon David, I know you know how to funky chicken! I dare you! Dance with me!” my wife executed a fancy flourish move with her shoulders, and as she did her tits jiggled from side to side.

They say opposites attract and I am living proof of that. I am probably the polar opposite of my wife. I am awkward, and I do not like to dance. I am an Introvert’s Introvert. I shook my head and told my wife that I had to get to work, but I didn’t have to leave for twenty minutes. I was just too bashful to dance with my wife.