Dare Me (new 7/29)

[student]

As I watched Lucy pick her clothes up off my bedroom floor, another odd thing from the phone call started to bother me. What was that thing she had said about a sister? Hanna acted Lucy's little sister, but I knew it couldn't be her. Besides, this girl had been referred to as if she were Lucy's...big sister?

"Lucy, wait," I was prompted to ask, "did you say, 'little sister'? Who were you talking to on the phone?"

"My big sister", she replied cheerily, as if that made it obvious. When she saw my dumb brain still wasn't getting it, she explained further. "Each captain picks a little sister at camp, and she picked me, remember? Tiffany Lennox?"

My ears started ringing and my mouth fell open as my naked sister turned and sauntered away.


MIKEY IS GETTING A CONSCIOUS? HE'S SO SHOCKED THAT HE'S GETTING LIGHT-HEADED?

I need to tune in next week, same bat channel, same bat time! Diamond time!

[fuwafuwataimu]

As always, I love these chapters where Mikey and Lucy get on really well! I want a cute naked little sister who would ask for butt massages and fall asleep on my lap

I can't believe she actually suggested 'that', though. I wonder, was it an act of desperation, or an uncovering of long-buried desires? I wonder if she actually would have done it... Pity Mikey is a big old prude.

[perseus]

I know it hasn't been long, but I hope there is an update soon

[student]

These cliff hangers are getting too suspenseful.

Speaking of suspense, who is getting more edgy, Lucy or Mikey?

[Kazu]

Dumb question: about what year is the story in at this point? I feel as though it is mid-late nineties, but I have lost track since the early chapters.

As always, looking forward to the upcoming chapter. I want to see what the deal Lucy has to make for this sleepover.

[fuwafuwataimu]

May I have another?

[Themarble]

Please sir, can we have some more?

[jojo12026]

Yes, please!

[neverdoubted]

Tiffany Lennox. The mere mention of her name brought a smile to my face. Had the most popular girl in our school actually just agreed to come over to our house for the night and have sex with me? If you're not jumping up and down with glee at hearing this news, I'm not sure you understand what a big deal this really was.

Although she and I had never formally met - our social circles didn't exactly overlap - it was impossible for anyone at our school not to know who Tiffany was. She was so far above me socially that, if she hadn't chosen Lucy to be her "little sister", we probably never would have had the opportunity to meet. That's not to say Tiffany didn't at least know about me by reputation. I'm talking, of course, about the false rumors that had been unfairly circulating at school thanks to the naked drawing of me hanging in the cheer locker room.

I wouldn't be surprised if Tiffany wasn't directly involved in spreading some of those rumors. Even if not, as head captain, she had to at least permit the other girls to write those derogatory messages all over my poster. Either way, she bore some responsibility for how severely my reputation among all the girls at school had suffered. I felt it somehow fitting, therefore, that she would be the cheerleader who had to make amends with sexual favors.

As slim as those chances might be, I had to prepare as if she really was coming over and intended to have sex with me at some point during the sleepover. And even though I went through the motions of getting ready for such an encounter - taking a shower, shaving my face, making my room again and straightening up around the house - my doubts about her actually appearing lingered. I couldn't wrap my mind around the possibility of Tiffany freaking Lennox - the winner of life's genetic lottery and hottest girl in our school - being the first girl to take me to the promised land!

It still didn't feel real right up until the doorbell rang around three o'clock. I don't know why I came to the entryway to welcome her. Lucy was perfectly capable of opening the door by herself. I guess it was nerves. As soon as the door swung open and I saw Tiffany Lennox standing there in the flesh, I immediately felt unprepared and insecure.

Without waiting to be invited in, she entered the house with a flourish and sat her bags down. I knew right away this was going to be nothing like Hanna's sleepover. There would be no pizza or adoring glances or giggling. No juvenile flirting or childish board games. And there would definitely be no spanking!

She was obviously used to being in control of every room she entered. Ignoring Lucy, she walked straight up to me.

"Tiffany," she said, holding out her hand with the palm down, like she wanted me to appreciate her fine, French-tipped nails and tasteful, gold ring. I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to shake her hand or kiss the ring. Awkwardly, I reached out my own sweaty hand and shook her fingers up and down.

"Uh...Mike," I managed to croak out.

She regarded me for a moment, looking me up and down as if I were a sculpture that someone else had claimed to be of great worth. Skeptically appraising me, she seemed to scoff at my supposed value, found me lacking, and ended the encounter by moving further into our house without saying another word. All she left behind, other than the two, large overnight bags, was the faint, but alluring scent of an expensive perfume.

Like a servant eager to please, Lucy silently gathered up Tiffany's bags and followed her captain down the hall in the direction of the living room, leaving me standing alone and dumbfounded in the entryway. After a face-to-face encounter with Tiffany, I had to recalibrate my thinking on the fly. I had assumed Lucy's threats of going to the principal held some sway over her captain. I was counting on that sway to get me laid. But now I saw that Tiffany was the only one with any real power. She could simply order Lucy to never speak of cheer camp or hazing again - and that would be the end of it. I sure didn't have the guts to defy her.

That revelation, while a devastating blow to my sexual prospects, did lead me to ponder another big mystery. Tiffany could have sworn Lucy to silence over the phone. She didn't have to pack not one, but two overnight bags, and drive all the way across town from her house in the country club to ours just to do that. So, what was she doing here? Because I couldn't think up a good answer to that question, I wasn't quite ready to give up on the possibility that something good might still be in store for me. That hope drove me into the living room to seek out more clues.

I entered to see Tiffany sitting on our couch, holding court like a dignitary who was hosting us instead of the other way around. I had noticed earlier how the black skirt she was wearing was wrapped flirtaceously around her perfectly proportioned hips and bottom. The skirt was clearly expensive and from a name brand. The way she was sitting now, with her legs crossed, caused it to ride up high enough that I had trouble not staring at her long, shapely legs. But confident in her own skin, she paid no mind to the hem and simply ignored every new inch of flawless flesh she revealed – expecting, no demanding, everyone else disregard it as well.

Lucy scurried around her queen like the peon that she was - turning on the ceiling fan, bringing her a pillow, and generally attending to her needs. I picked the only other seat in the room, an old, wooden desk chair which people rarely used because it was so uncomfortable. But I was too intimidated to join our esteemed guest on the couch.

As Tiffany began to ask me a series of questions, I found myself trying to impress her with my words. She asked nothing embarrassing or too personal. But for some reason, I still blushed whenever our eyes met. Something about her, the perfect mixture of poise, confidence bordering on arrogance, and effortless sensuality, made my tongue go thick whenever I tried to answer one of her questions. She smiled graciously through my blubbering, incoherent responses, but I noticed she always followed up with a slightly condescending comment of her own. Because of her social status within our school, I had to assume everything she said carried a hidden subtext. I wasn't that socially inept.

"Do you prefer Mike or Michael?...Well, I've always thought of Michael as more distinguished."

"Is that your car outside?...Cool. I think our gardener drives one of those."

"So, Mike, what do you like to do for fun?...You're on the basketball team?! I never noticed!"

She never said anything overtly mean, but between the lines, her words were hardly flattering. With each comment, I felt her opinion of me diminish a little more. She was talking down to me and making it clear that someone as insignificant and unimpressive as me would not normally be worth her time.

But even though I should have been insulted and stormed out of the room, something about the way she kept coming up with more things to ask felt like she was still appraising me in a way. Perhaps she hadn't fully made up her mind about me after all. And I still didn't have a clear answer for why she had paid us a visit. So, I stayed and kept answering her questions. As any desperately horny teenage boy would, as long as I felt even the slimmest chance that I might get to score with the head cheerleader, I was sure as hell going to stick around and find out. Mikey Jr. isn't a quitter, and neither am I!

While I battled to improve myself in her eyes before it was too late, Tiffany remained calm and collected, revealing nothing about her true feelings or intentions. The worst indication of how I was faring came about five minutes in when she casually slipped in the mention of her boyfriend. How was I supposed to compete with a musclebound football player who was in line to be the starting, senior quarterback next year? The mere fact that Bruce Meyers, who could have had any girl in his school, was willing to date a freshman who was still in junior high should tell you something about how hot Tiffany Lennox was.

Even if I was deceiving myself and really had no chance with her, I admit, I did start to enjoy the experience the longer it went on. It's not often you get to sit down and chat with the captain of the junior high cheer team and undisputed leader of your school. I was an eighth grade nobody. At school, she never would have spoken to me.

Tiffany, on the other hand, was already a lock for homecoming queen, a prize she did win a few years later in high school. Even if you didn't know all about her bona fide future accomplishments (She went on to eventually marry a state representative. Did I forget to mention that part?), you only had to take one look at the poised, impeccably dressed, sixteen-year-old goddess to know you were talking to someone special. I really did feel like I was in the presence of royalty!

Lucy, who was mostly being ignored during this pseudo-interview process, did insert a comment here and there. She positively gushed over Tiffany's hair which was professionally styled and had not a single, shiny, black strand out of place. Like everything about her, it was gorgeous and sophisticated. But I spent more time stealing glances at her top. Mr. Beski would have been impressed with how effortlessly the tailored blouse fit her ample proportions. She sat primly with a good, but relaxed posture which did an excellent job emphasizing her excessive chest endowment. Having wasted countless hours at school staring at girls' chests, I counted Tiffany among the most well-endowed in our school. Having a top made of an elegant, silk fabric that draped enticingly over her impressive swells didn't hurt, either.

Anyone who has spent any time ogling a girl's tits knows what a dangerous game it can be. When I heard nothing but the end of something Tiffany said, I came dangerously close to getting busted while gawking.

"...does sound nice. What do you say, Mike? Think you can handle that?"

I had no idea what she was talking about. Handle what? Looking helplessly back and forth between her and my sister, I stuttered out, "I...uh...sure!"

When no one did anything for several awkward seconds, Tiffany said, "Ok, well, shouldn't you get going then?"

Still confused, I blushed and nodded as I stood up. Tiffany stood up as well, and Lucy after her. They followed me through the room's only exit and into the hallway. There, I paused because I still didn't have the slightest idea where we were supposed to be going and didn't want to look stupid by turning the wrong way. Fortunately, Lucy bailed me out by saying, "Wanna look at my room while Mikey is making the snacks?"

"Mikey?" Tiffany snickered with genuine amusement, her face breaking out into a gorgeous smile. Who would have guessed that Lucy's pet nickname for me would be the first thing to crack Tiffany's enigmatic shell of sophistication. Turning to my sister, she added, "I'd love to see your room. My bags?"

Without hesitation, Lucy ran back into the room to retrieve Tiffany's overnight bags. I couldn't fathom why a girl would need to pack so much for a single night's sleepover, and still didn't appreciate her treating my sister like her personal servant. But since Lucy didn't seem to mind, I didn't make a big deal out of it.

Since I had apparently agreed to provide snacks, I headed to the kitchen while the girls went to Lucy's room. I struggled to come up with snack options fit for a princess. Our summer garden had mostly stopped producing, and Lucy and Hanna had just picked it clean of the last viable vegetables the day before.

Turning to the pantry, I found a few slices of Rye bread in the bottom of the bag. The bread was dried out because someone (probably me) had forgotten to close the bag when putting it away. But it wasn't moldy or anything. We also had some leftover parmesan cheese packets from the previous night's pizza delivery.

Cutting the bread into small squares, about an inch across, I made little parmesan piles in the middle of each one, then toasted them in the oven for a couple minutes. While the cheese was melting, I looked in our spice rack for something more authentic to add. But the rack was practically empty and I couldn’t find anything that would make the dish taste more Italian. Finally, I gave up and went in a different direction. Taking the now toasted squares out of the oven, I sprinkled some cinnamon and powdered sugar over the top of each one.

I wanted to pair the dish with chocolate milk made from Nesquik powder. But since we were out of milk, I had to settle for ice water. Transferring the food onto our fanciest serving platter, I loaded everything onto a folding, breakfast tray (the same one that had been used years earlier by some of Lucy's friends to serve me naked breakfast in bed. It's kind of a long story) before heading out to find the girls.

Walking slowly to avoid spilling anything, I called out to see where they were. When Lucy called back that they were in the living room, I headed that way. But upon entering the room and locating the girls, I almost dropped the whole tray anyway when I saw that they had both changed into bikinis!

[student]

I wonder where the cubical rooster will fall from this time.

Mikey has talent. Improvise when there's no food--I'll have to try that recipe. In a week or two I'll learn what Tiffany thinks of real junk food.

Thanks. I really liked this chapter. Mikey going all puppy dog gooey. Little Sister's hero worship of Big Sister.