Beetlesmith's Ch. 07

"Dare," Jackie said quickly, and with a tone of boisterous mirth, "Come on Denise, don't tell me you've never heard of the game."

"Well...yes," Denise stammered.

"Then what will it be, truth or dare?" Jackie pressed, not allowing Denise time to think or make excuses.

Denise looked around the table wide-eyed, hoping that one of us would step in and rescue her from the situation. However, seeing that no help was forthcoming, she resigned herself to accepting her fate, and said with regal air, "Truth, then."

Jackie smiled back at her, and hesitated for a moment while she puffed on her cigar. Finally, she sat back in her chair, and asked, "Tell us about the first time you did it with someone."

Denise told her story, hesitantly at first, as if it were some dark, embarrassing secret no one else in the world could understand. It was a story of a warm summer night in the back seat of her boyfriend's father's Oldsmobile, parked along a dark country road. It was a sweet and innocent story of a young girl who was curious about carnal pursuits, but fearful of their potential, mocking repercussions if her friends and peers ever found out. After a while, as Denise become comfortable with her surroundings, she became more confident in her storytelling, and concluded her ribald tale by explaining in elaborate detail how her boyfriend suffered both premature and painful 'coitus interruptus' when a wandering patrol car ventured onto the scene. She said this with such humor and warmth that her vivid explanation had us all in stitches.

Just like that, any anxiety or sexual frustration that was developing within and between us due to the initial effects of the elixir dissipated harmlessly into our laughter. I breathed easier from then on, and looked at Jackie, the instigator of the game, with newfound admiration.

Round and round the table the game continued. Each took their turn as grand inquisitor, asking in their turn the most lascivious of question. The bodacious nature of each question was escalated by each new inquisitor, and all questions were answered, some hesitantly, some unabashedly, but all with equal flavor in rank.

Without prodding from me, questions for truth quickly gave way to challenges to perform a dare. It was as if everyone knew the ultimate destination to where the game was headed, and wanted to hasten its progress. So far, however, none of the inquisitors dared the actual touching between the participants, but instead demanded from them some ribald act to be performed solo for the amusement of the others. A teasing show of cleavage or a display of the bulge in the trousers was about the extent of our initial play.

We must have made quite a sight. Seven full-grown adults, some well on the downhill side of life, laughing and hooting to mock displays of sex, as if we were drunken teenagers at a late-night party testing the sexual waters for the first time. None of us cared how juvenile all of this might seem to the uninitiated. We were having the time of our lives, and regretting none of it. So it was with the elixir.

Mark was probably the only one who was not fully in the spirit of things. Not so much, I think, because he wasn't imbued with the elixir, but rather because the knife never fell in his direction. It must have been grating on him, given that he had the equipment to give an auspicious display of his bulge, but was being denied the opportunity by fate. It was being done as if by my order, and I got a certain amount of pleasure watching him chomp at the bit.

It was Cecilia's turn as grand inquisitor. She had just finished giving a rousing, mock display, in both physical and vocal exuberance, on how she pleasured herself. I dare say it left most of us breathless, hard, and most likely wet. Smiling to herself at her fine bit of acting, she spun the knife. A tension fell over the room as all silently watched the utensil slowly spin along its invisible axis. Cecilia augmented the tension, as she added playful commentary, "Who will be next, I wonder. I already have a juicy tease for the lucky person. I hope it's you, Jackie."

Everyone held their breath as the knife slowly ebbed to a halt, pointing in my direction.

I smiled at Cecilia, saying, "I hope you're not disappointed that it wasn't Jackie."

See smile back, "Not at all, it works just the same. Truth or dare?"

"Dare, of course."

"Tell me Will, is Karen a good kisser?"

"The best," I said, and then added almost nonchalantly, "But there are even better things she can do with her lips."

This elicited a number of laughs, whistles, and catcalls from around the table. Karen added her own bit of panache to the overall mirth by seductively licking her lips and saying, "And on more sensitive parts of a man's anatomy."

"Ooh, that may be," continued Cecilia, "But I think I'm a pretty good kisser too, on the lips and on other things." There were more catcalls from the group. Cecilia waited for the hoots to die down before continuing, "And I know Jackie can really make a guy's...um...anatomy stand up straight and sing...over and over again, right Will?"

She shot me a knowing smile and wink as a reference to Jackie's previous exploits with Karen, Gloria and me.

Cecilia concluded her challenge, "So let's put this to the test. For your dare you have to find out which one of us ladies is the better kisser."

I started with Cecilia, but kissed them all in the same way. I would stand above them and to the side of their chair, and while bending over to meet their lips I would wrap an arm about them, positioning it just below their breasts so that they naturally rested in the crook of my elbow. During the act of the kiss, I would subtly apply a gentle pressure to them with my arm, and in so doing feel their hardened nipples pressing against me.

Each returned my kiss in similar fashion. A brief moistening of their lips before leaving them slightly parted. Then, as our lips touched, one final intake of air and a closing of their eyes before pushing a tongue forward to greet mine. Except for the subtle pressure of my arm against their breasts, I remained fairly passive throughout the embrace, allowing the women alone to apply as much force and exuberance to the kiss as they felt necessary. And while all of them were of like manner, that is, eager to show me just how exuberant they could be, there were wonderfully erotic differences in each of their techniques.

Cecilia started coyly, and at first, her body felt rigid against my arm. It was as if she were still unsure of her surroundings and fearful of exposing too much of herself in front of strangers. Her posture belied the vampish persona she exhibited moments before. However, after a few moments I felt her body going soft. Her hands that still tightly held my arm, which she used for leverage to press her mouth firmly against mine. As with our initial embrace, her tongue was equally bashful, touching mine briefly only to scamper backward forcing me to the chase, but once I caught up to it she pushed back against me with renewed force and playfulness. When she finally released me, her eyes were looking at me, large and innocent, and oh, so captivating. Their soft brown color seemed to turn almost golden in hue, appearing as if they glowed in contrast to the rich, warm mahogany of her skin. Then they narrowed and wrinkled at the corners, mimicking the impish smile that escaped from her lips.

Jackie showed no hint of reservation, and fully displayed her natural sexuality from the start—mostly by putting on a seductive smile while toying with the top buttons on her blouse and exposing more of her ample cleavage as I approached. What I was beginning to appreciate about her was that although she was probably the most sexually experienced of the group, save for Jack Avery, she never appeared jaded, and treated every encounter with men as if each were her first and favorite. Taking my head within her hands, she pulled me hard against her lips. Her hands wander about my head, first by gently brushing her palms against my cheeks, then running her fingers up through my hair, only to end up wrapping my head fully into her arms. All the while she pushed her tongue fully into and around in my mouth. I could discern the faint trace of tobacco mingled with wine as she danced within me. Toward the end of our embrace she slowed, becoming almost loving, as she softly clamped her lips down to suck gently on my tongue.

The length and intensity of our kiss caused a number of the other guests to whistle and hoot in playful approval. We ignored the catcalls for the moment and allowed a knowing smile to pass between us.

As I made my way over to Karen, I heard Mark exclaim, "Oh, come on Will, by now you shouldn't need to experience your own wife. Move on to Denise."

"Hush up, Mark," Karen said, as she gave him a playful slap on the arm, "I want to be included in this too."

"Funny," I said as I bent down to kiss her, "The thought never crossed my mind to leave you out of the mix."

"I know."

We've done it countless times before, under many different situations and circumstances. I won't say it felt like the first time or the even the thousandth, because it didn't. It felt as it always has—a gesture of romance with the woman with whom I had fallen in love. That feeling never left me, and probably never would. It was the reason why I stayed with her even after finding out about the betrayal. I doubt there were many people in the world that I could or would forgive for that, because there were few people in the world who could still take my breath away, as she did mine.

During our kiss, Karen decided to take some spousal privileges by reaching a hand up and overtly feeling the bulge in my pants. The gesture sent the rest of the table into another boisterous round of hoots, whistles and catcalls, which, in turn, sent Karen and me into fits of laughter.

When she released me, I said jokingly, and in accord with the spirit of the mood that was just created by her fondling, "Care to finish what you started?"

To my surprise, Karen didn't think I was kidding. There was an awkward moment of hesitation, as a sensual, mischievous gleam sparked from her eye. I believe she would have pulled out my cock without further encouragement except for a comment utter at that moment by one of the other ladies, "And if she doesn't, I will."

The comment was so contrary to the façade she had presented to everyone that there was a moment of stunned silence. Denise was sitting back in her chair, an arm casually draped over its back as she laughed playfully to herself with tongue in cheek. It was only until we heard her bright laughter that the rest of the gathering laughed as well. Jack looked at her with surprise, and although he started to laugh with the others, it was obvious he was a little annoyed by her comment.

Taking no notice of her husband, Denise said, "I seem to be the only one left. I guess you're saving the best for last."

Keeping an eye on Jack, I said with mock sheepishness and a wink, "That, but I'm a little concerned about my employment."

Jack gave a small wave of his hand while saying, "Oh, don't worry about that. Hell, maybe you can get more out of her than I could."

It was a not too subtle rebuke at Denise for her comment from moments before.

Not missing a beat, however, Denise responded in like fashion, "Quite possibly he can, because by the looks of things he has more to offer."

Jack threw up his hands in mock surrender, "Ouch, bested again."

I could tell by their banter that the sexual frustration common in the initial stages of those imbued by the elixir still existed between the Averys, even though it was dampened in the rest of us by Jackie's game. It was also obvious that theirs was a marriage of convenience, and I suspect that whatever tenuous threads existed in holding it together may be broken tonight.

Denise surprised me further during our kiss. She started awkwardly, tipping her head down then back as if out of practice. She gave a short, nervous laugh at her own clumsiness, before settling down to one position with eyes closed and lips slightly parted. When our lips touched, I felt a soft breeze against my cheek as she exhaled slowly through her nostrils. At first, she only used her lips, shifting them across mine as if trying to moisten both. She was always soft and slow in her movements. I like to think it was because she wanted to savor the experience, given that they were probably infrequent in her marriage. I felt her tongue gently brush against my lips, almost in a searching manner. Touching me about the mouth but never entering inside. I held back for a moment, teasing her with my mouth while applying gentle pressure to her breasts with my arm. As with the other women, her nipples felt hard against me.

When our tongues finally touched, she responded by opening her mouth wide and pressing herself hard against me, as if trying to pull me fully inside her. She shifted her hand up to caress my hair as Jackie had done, but in so doing, moved her arm in such a way as to place my hand fully over her breast. The action was purposeful, and by the silence of the room, went unnoticed. Pulling her arm close to her body, she forced my hand to cup her breast even more firmly. To finalize the sensual deception, she stroked at my hair causing my pinned hand to massage her breast, involuntarily. It was expertly and artfully done.

I was wrong about her. She had done this many times before and probably with many men. It was her true seduction. I wondered how far she went those other times. Did it end with just a kiss, or did she take the men further along her path? How many brief, spontaneous encounters had she initiated with that kiss? I also wondered if Jack knew his wife wasn't the jaded celibate she made herself out to be, or was their marriage truly one of contrived convenience?

When she finally released me, she said as if to no one in particular, and I suspect to give herself cover, "I haven't been kissed like that by a strange man since I met Jack," then leaning forward, she said to Karen in matriarchal fashion, "Well done, my dear."

Karen just smiled and nodded her head. Something had just passed between the two, but I couldn't guess what. I like to think Denise's cryptic comment was an acknowledgement of the fine catch Karen made marrying me compared to her own apparent failure. It was the egotist in me. For all I know, Denise just complemented Karen on the wonderful job she did training me.

Well, I wasn't going to explore that now. One thing I learned through Cecilia's dare, other than it was an intoxicating experience, was that all of the women were fully aroused, and none more so than Karen. All I had to do was ring the bell, and everyone would be off to the races.

As I sat back in my chair, I was about to spin the knife when I noticed everyone, particularly the women, looking at me anxiously.

I stared back at them, "What?"

"You were supposed to find out who was the best kisser," answered Karen.

"And I did," I said, leaving the matter alone.

There was a long silence as the women continued to stare at me incredulously. Jack was the only one who guessed my intent, and started laughing with characteristic guffaws.

After a few more moments of Jack's laughter, I finally said, "You really don't expect me to answer that, do you? That would be like asking me, 'Does this dress make me look fat?' or, 'Do you think that girl's prettier than me?' These are questions men have learned to avoid like the plague, because no matter how we answer them we still end up getting kicked in the groin."

The response from each of the two groups was predicable. Jack and Mark each nodded their head vigorously in agreement. Mark added a, 'Damn straight,' a number of times to underscore my truism. The women, on the other hand, erupted in unison, "Oh, you are so full of shit!" Of course, each used their own particular vernacular, but their meanings were all the same.

Upon seeing and hearing the women's visceral and unanimous reaction, Mark, Jack, and myself slid into continual laughter. It must have been a sight, each of the men laughing it up while trading high-fives, as the women vainly argued a counterpoint that largely fell on deaf ears. Finally, even Jackie and Karen laughed to themselves, if not out of seeing the truth behind it all, at least seeing the humor of the situation.

The game was all but over. Spinning the knife one last time was a perfunctory act. I could just as easily snapped my fingers at any of the women and the orgy would begin. Those around the table who may not yet be fully in the throes of the elixir, like Mark and maybe Cecilia, would have quickly been corrupted by those who were. That, however, would have been a grossly decadent and unwise show of power—one that I must avoid.

Everyone watched as the knife slowed to a stop, except for me. It was strange, but I already knew whom it would point to even before it happened.

I stared at Karen from across the table. I watched her eyes followed the spinning knife intently, and when there could be no doubt who it pointed at, she smiled to herself before looking over at me. We stared at each other silently, as the others around the table laughed, and reiterated the outcome, hooting, "It's Karen's turn."

I raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Dare," she said it with slow deliberation. Her eyes smoldered. Their deep blue color radiated almost violet. She wasn't making a choice but issuing a challenge, 'I dare you to do your worst!' She wanted the game to end as much as me, and I knew just how it should end.

"Mark," I said casually, "There's a rumor within our circle of friends that you are quite the man."

Mark was briefly taken aback as I shifted my attention toward him, "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's been said by some that you are a man blessed with more than your fair share of...Oh, how shall I say it...Male accoutrements."

There was renewed whistling and hoots from the ladies.

"If you mean I got a big dick, then yeah, more than my share. I'd say more than three guys' share."

He said it with such pride I felt I had to play with him for a moment, "Well that's a bold statement. I mean, one woman's mountain could be another's molehill. You know what I mean? Things like this can be quite relative and subjective."

"What, you don't believe me?" he said, putting his hands to his zipper while trying to stand.

I laughed, "Whoa, just sit down and keep the stallion in the corral, this isn't your dare." Turning toward Karen, I asked, "Do we believe him?"

The same smoldering look was stamped on her face. She already knew what her dare would be. A shameless smile creased her lips as she slowly shook her head from side to side.

"Well then, your dare is to prove the rumor."

I think Karen was under the table before I finished my statement. Within moments, a look of surprise came over Mark as Karen began pawing at his trousers. The unzipping of his pants was clearly heard by all, followed by the faint rustling of clothes. Finally, we heard Karen's muffled and raspy voice, "It's true," then a brief pause, "Oh yes, so very true." Another longer pause ensued, at the end of which we could hear the faint sounds of moist kissing and gentle sucking. Everyone who was staring at Mark saw his eyelids slowly shut in obvious pleasure.

Cecilia was the first to break the silence, "Oh my god, is she..."

"That's my cousin," Jackie intoned, shaking her head in fake astonishment, "And to think, some people have the balls to call me a slut."

I heard Jack laugh abruptly before blurting out to no one in particular, "Holy shit, whenever Kendall had one of these things all we ever did was sit around and listen to him yammer on about that goddamn country club."