Thursday, November 22, 2012

Truth or Dare


A sixth grader invented Truth or Dare as a means and excuse to forcibly apply his tongue to Kassandre Green’s anything. It was an excuse to hold hands if not spend five minutes in a closet pretending you were doing more than pecking at each other’s faces. Truth or Dare is the game that started it all.

“Truth or Dare?” They’d say

“Dare” I’d respond

“I dare you to stick your penis in Daron’s Spaghetti before he comes back from the bathroom.”

It’s safe to say I had the worst truth or dare partners a kid could ask for. Assholes are what I’d call them now. Assholes are what taught me everything

::

It was frighteningly dark in the desert that night when I asked her if she wanted to play truth or dare.

“Of course”, she replied.

And then we left the party.

We’ve been drinking for a few hours now and there was still a mild buzz in the background, although it could have been my head, I wasn’t used to drinking this much alcohol. Natural light and boons farm was a surprisingly potent combination to a seventeen year old's liver.

I startled a rabbit from a bush trying to usher my blonde teenaged counterpart to my car in the middle of nowhere. It darted under her legs sending her crashing to the ground.

“Oh god, what was that?

“A rabbit. I think.”

“You think there’re any snakes out here.” She says

“Probably.” I reply as I help her up.

“God, I hate the desert.”  

She adjusts her shirt and spots something familiar.

“That’s mine.” She says

She points at a large 97’ hatchback wagon and I can’t help but laugh.

“You drive around in that?”

“Well where’s your car Mister Truth or Dare? We’ve been walking around forever!”

“I actually—don’t know.”

She shakes her head at me like I’m an idiot. “That’s it”, I thought-- “It’s over.” But before I knew it we were kissing in the middle of the desert, and she was edging me towards her car. Kissing is an overstatement. We weren’t exactly kissing as much as we were playing drunken badminton with each other’s tongues. . Sloppy, ugly, messy, badminton.

We slobbered on each other’s everything while blindly stepping backward into her car. I put her up against the hatchback and felt around for the switch. I tugged the handle of the wagon but it wouldn’t open.

“It’s locked” she murmured, and continued to kiss my neck.

I worked my way around her beautiful seventeen year-old rear-end and managed the keys out of her back pocket.

Click

The back of the hatchback came fluttering open smacking her upside the head with a loud-- WHACK!

“What the fuck!?” As she grabs her head and stumbles off the wagon.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would come up so fast. I didn’t really think that through.”

She rubs her head vigorously and examines her hand for blood.

“Are you going to be alright?”

There’s something to be said for the perseverance of teenage lust. The possibility of a concussion was left by the wayside and our underdeveloped hormones took over. Before I knew it we were playing badminton in the back of her open hatchback. I managed my way on top of her and cupped her braless breast with one hand. “She made it easy on me”, I thought. But it wasn’t much of a breast and I moved southward to her pants. I’ve never met a human being, animal, or substance that can squeeze into such a tight space. How did this girl breath?

“I’m going to need help with these..”

She got out of the wagon and struggled to shimmy out of her prison-like jeans from hell. When she got back in I was naked to my socks. We laid there in awkward silence both privately analyzing our next move. Hers came sooner.

She got on top of me and began to ride my pelvis until my skull bounced off her spare tire.  

“Ouch!”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.”

Two concussions in and I finally managed my way back into a comfort position. Slobbering on each other’s faces it wasn’t hard to find the right mood again. Soon the Hatchback steamed up like the Titanic and I had almost made it in when she whispers into my ear—

“Do you have you have a condom?”

“Of course I have a condom. I have a condom right—

Shit, where are my pants?”

“I don’t know. Where did you put them?”

We search valiantly for my pants but we can’t find them anywhere. She impatiently stands up and starts to redress as I rummage around her station wagon in my birthday suit. Under the tire, in the back seat, I even look in the glove department. Goddamn pants.

“Westley..”

“What?” I look over.

She’s holding my pants and dangling them above her head.

“They were on the car.”

Smiling, exhausted, a little bit too drunk, I got out of the car naked as the desert night and grabbed my pants. She gave me a kiss and we slid back into the station wagon. I was back in action. We finally hit 29-all in our ongoing game of drunken badminton and I found the condom that I bought two years earlier when I thought I’d actually be having sex. The packaging was a bit precarious but condoms can stay in your wallet for years. It’s like keeping dried foods in your freezer. They never get bad. 

So I ripped it open.

Excited, I unrolled it, but when I looked down I had missed my penis. "Oh dammit" - I Thought 

"What's the matter?"
"Nothing, just, I need to concentrate."

It took five minutes to stretch, pull, and wiggle the latex contraception back onto my penis. It was a tough task, the toughest task of my young life, but a task that had to be done.

When I was done, I proudly slid back on top of her. Too proud.

“Owe. Not there.” She grunts.

“What do you mean?”

“Not there, that’s not.. It.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

I struggle a little bit longer.

“Where am I putting this thing?”

“Jesus Christ.” She takes my penis and guides it like a missile.

One hour and twenty minutes after our game of truth or dare and we were finally there. Two entities becoming one in the night. Like a beautifully synchronized, totally naked except for the socks, dance. It was amazing. It was everything they said it would be. It was—

“I think I just came.”

“Oh-my-- God.”

“Sorry.”

I rolled off of her and put on my pants. To this day I can’t remember how they got on the roof.



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