Chapter 25: Next Level

I was trying hard to suppress my overwhelming lust, as I gazed at the fourteen-year-old's gorgeous blonde pussy that was on display in front of me. But I was failing, and the towel wrapped awkwardly at my waist was suddenly proving radically ill-suited to concealing my lust from my fellow truth-or-dare players.

I reached out the extended length of the soft tape measure and, trying my best to be suave and calm, lay it down along the length of her slightly poofed-out, lovely pinkish cuntlips. The heat radiating from the damp slit was intense, and she flinched slightly at my probably cold-seeming fingers' touch.

But within moments I had gently laid the yellowish cloth measure amid the golden curls and I read off, "four and three quarters."

Lissa breathed a soft-toned "cool," but Marie was speechless. I pulled away my hands and Lissa added, more firmly, "now her clit."

"It's, uh, not very big," stammered Marie, gazing down at herself self-consciously.

The tape measure had a metal nub on it's first quarter inch, and I held it up to Lissa's cooperative scrutiny, wordlessly inquiring whether she thought it would work for the next bit of measuring. She just nodded, equally silent.

I felt clumsy as I reached my fingers to lay the end of the tape measure into the top of Marie's cleft along the left side of her slightly bulging, shinydamp nubbin, and Marie's sharp intake of breath as my hands made contact.

How should I do this? I wondered. Only the glistening tip of the girl's clitoris was peeking out of the fleshy, reddish, surrounding hood.

As if hearing my thought, Lissa suggested gently, "Marie, hold yourself open so he can get in there better -- use your hands, that's it."

Marie cooperated and, laying her index fingers on either side of her slit on the puffy mons, spread herself accommodatingly, allowing her knees to slacken further open as well. The clit projected itself a slight bit further from its hood, but Lissa, seeing the issue I was confronting almost instinctively, said to me, "use your finger to pull back the hood first, so it's sticking out."

God -- knowing the intense sensations I must be causing the young woman had my own heart leaping wildly, as if in sympathy. I pressed my middle finger to the spot above the clitoris that I knew from some experience would pull back the hood and cause the clit to fully distend. Then I lay the tip of the tape measure in along it and the bright pink tip only reached the slightly arched end of the curve of the metal nub at the tape's end. "One quarter inch, maybe three eighths," I read, in a voice not much louder than a sigh.

I could feel the reflexive thrusting motion of Marie's pelvis in response to the invasion of my fingers and the no-doubt overwhelming sexual intensity of her being exposed to us all, but she was clearly trying to suppress giving in to her urges.

Part of me desperately wanted to tweak her little knob and force her to surrender to these urges, but I knew that would be unfair, and, however much she might like it and even be yearning for it, it could lead to regrets farther down the road. And the image of me simply diving down and sucking that delicious looking clit between my lips persisted in my mind vividly, even after I withdrew my hands, and Marie, with a clear combination of regret and relief, removed her own hands and allowed her knees to fall back together.

The intensity of the moment was past. I think Denise made some effort at small talk, and to keep the game going, but I don't recall what she said.

Lissa at last helped Marie to stand and handed her her pants to pull back on, though the girl almost seemed reluctant to cover herself again. A born exhibitionist, I exulted to myself, seeing this minor display of emotion on the lovely young woman's face.

I returned to my own seat, and only then became conscious of the degree to which my own arousal was now flagrantly tenting the suddenly much-too-small towel around my waist. Given what I'd just subjected Marie to, however, I felt like it would be unfair of me to display any degree of embarrassment over this -- so I gave a quiet sigh to myself and pretended it wasn't there, but Denise gave me no respite, and catching my gaze, did one of her Mr Spock raised eyebrow things and looked pointedly at the turgid throbber, grinning mischievously.

Finally, we decided to move on, and it was Frank's turn. Lissa, impatient with Marie's dazed-like demeanor, operated the website, and read the following dare: "Have a random member of the group pick two items of clothing that you take off and stand in the front of a window (no shades or drapes!) for 30 seconds."

Well, at this point, Frank was wearing only a t-shirt and jeans -- no underwear, so it was evident that his would lead to his being naked. As I expected, Denise said, "I'm not sure about the standing in front of the window thing," in her usual cautionary tone.

I felt a need to reinforce her on this one, as it seemed too likely to result in outside observation of this increasingly kinky group interaction. So, I added, "we have a rule against outside dares."

But, as I've mentioned before, the girls were clearly in charge, and Lissa immediately protested -- "it's not like it's REALLY outside."

Marie, recovered somewhat from her earlier daze, seconded her friend, "I think it's a good dare."

"Well, maybe one of the back windows," hazarded Denise.

"There's no fun in that -- we all know that no one can see in the back windows," complained Lissa. "Here, this window," she suggested enthusiastically, jumping up and pulling back the drapes on the bay window right behind her that displayed the living room to the street. It was dusk outside, and the lights on inside would mean there would be a good chance that if someone happened to be looking toward the house, Frank would be seen.

Denise sighed, and offered a final argument against the idea: "well, keep in mind -- would you do the dare, if the it was yours and not Frank's?"

If this was supposed to somehow dissuade the girls, Denise was in for a shock, I knew immediately. And Lissa merely grinned widely and said, with a perfect tone of insolence, "well, duh."

Denise didn't show her dismay, though. She just turned to the other girl and prompted, "Marie?"