Truth and Dare
I was aware of my sister's development long before I saw anything happening in my own arena. She was two years older than me, and, besides, girls develop sooner then guys. I must have known about her boobs and hips for four years before I started to change.
I didn't actually know when I started to change, all of a sudden, one time, I noticed things had changed. Well, actually, my sister pointed it out to me, in a way.
I can guess, however, when I started to change. Looking back, I realize that my sister's body was suddenly getting interesting to me. For a couple of years she had been the touchy-feely type and I had been annoyed, in a small way, with her little touches. Now I was reacting differently. Just a simple shove in my back would get the hairs on my neck tingling. I was usually extremely annoyed while she picked on me, then disappointed when she left.
I also realized she was nice to look at. And I wondered about what was underneath.
We were not especially close. Kind of up and down, I guess. When doing dishes, cleaning rooms, whatever chores had come up, we weren't the ones to volunteer to help each other. We sort of entered into a barter system; you give a little and I'll give a little. Or, as they say, you scratch mine and I'll scratch yours.
It wasn't a regular thing, though. More just an on the spur of the moment thing. It usually came up when we were doing something silly like playing Truth or Dare.
We'd start out just fooling around, simple at first. Usually, that's all the farther we got.
"Truth: If you broke your arm, which would you rather have it be?"
"Dare: Wear my underwear for a day?"
But sometimes the innocent questions would either hit a tender spot, or else, at times, we intentionally went too far.
Once I was surprised when asking, "Which boy would be your pick to be your boyfriend?" she wouldn't answer. So I got to choose a penalty. I traded a turn at clearing the table.
She had her moments as well. Once she asked me how long my penis was. I knew the answer to that, which goes to show that I was interested already in my change. What I didn't know then, but figured out later, is that she knew as well that I was starting to change. Or maybe it was just a innocent question and I gave the game away when I wouldn't answer. I ended up dusting the living room.
The dares were more fun. Choosing truth was, well, even though we swore to tell the truth, you couldn't really tell. The dares, though, you either did them or didn't.
Once when I asked her to show me her undies, she quickly stood up, turned around and snapped her jeans down to her knees. For days afterwards I was haunted by her round ass, light blue undies with butterflies and all, floating before my eyes. At night I imagined it bare, but then was suddenly ashamed. But the sound of her pants sliding over her butt kept hissing in my ears.
The game became more dangerous when we started deciding on the punishment ahead of time. Now, with the consequence out front, the decision to complete a dare or not became a little trickier.
For instance, she dared me to bare my butt to her. I had to do it. Not doing it would have made me taking over her bathroom cleaning duties on the weekend.
Things weren't perfect though. On that same day I dared her to show me her boob. She made such a fuss that I backed down and compromised to just seeing her bare butt. It was quick and barely fair, you could say, the way she hardly got the pants half way down her crack. But, once again, the view of that butt stayed in my head for weeks.
Then one day things got out of hand. I was laying on my back in the upstairs hallway tossing a basketball up and down. Shooting free throws mostly, then every once and a while bouncing the ball off a wall for fun.
I could see her moving around in her room and I got started thinking about her bottom. Then for some reason I remembered how even she was a little kid, her bottom was still a round little thing. I hadn't remembered taking the baths and showers together for a long time.
So I asked, "Truth or Dare?"
She answered, "Truth." Her voice echoed weirdly from her room.
"Would you ever take a shower with me again?"
"No!" she blurted the answer out.
"Why not?" I asked. "You used to."
"I used to drool, too, buddy."
"You still do," I said, "like last Saturday when you fell asleep in the car."
"Don't be a prick."
"It was kind of fun, though, wasn't it?" I asked.
"I don't know, I was asleep."
"No, I mean the showers."
"Yeah, sure," she said, sounding like that was the end of the conversation.
"What are you scared of?" I persisted, trying to make her squirm a bit.
"Scared?" she answered like it was a stupid question but she thought for a moment, the tip of her tongue peeking between her lips. "That has nothing to do with it. Anyway, you're the scared one, always doing Truth 'cause the Dares scare you."
Friday, August 28, 2009
Truth and Dare