Dare Me (new 7/29)

[Freesub]

If it is delayed, we shall wait! Can never rush quality! Take as long as you need ND!

Of course.... Not to say that we don't want it as soon as possible of course

[neverdoubted]

Even dressed down as she was, Tiffany maintained her air of superiority with proper posture and a pleasant smile on her face - like she was posing for a yearbook photo. One look at her sitting there - so beautiful, so composed, so effortlessly smoking hot - and my confidence deflated faster than a slashed tire. Though it crushed me to admit, I had to face facts. Even if she wasn't a full year older and more mature than me, Tiffany Lennox was so far out of my league in so many other ways that it was stupid of me to think I ever had a chance to score with her.

Forced to accept that my fantasies involving her were just that - fantasies, and looking for some way to salvage the situation, I pivoted into the role of a grateful spectator. After all, how many times does the captain of the cheer team come and hang out in your living room in a bikini? She might not have actual sex with me, but she could still star in my erotic dreams for many nights to come!

The only reason Tiffany didn’t catch me staring at her was thanks to Lucy, who was sitting right beside her on the couch, had drawn her attention down to a book. I used the opportunity to commit Tiffany’s exposed flesh to memory. Just like her previous outfit, her custom, black swimsuit looked like it could have come straight off a fashion runway. Molded to fit her shape perfectly, the two large bra cups were just big enough to contain her boobs but left plenty of space between them to show off her enviable cleavage.

Her crossed legs, along with the book propped up on her lap, blocked much of the view of her stomach and lower half. But the tiny, black fabric of her bikini bottoms, which were tied low around her waist, revealed tantalizing peeks at her bare, right hip and outer flank of her nicely proportioned bottom.

"Hi, Mikey," Lucy cheerfully greeted me from the couch, "thanks for the snacks, but we're not hungry anymore. We're going outside just as soon as we finish this book."

Quickly averting my gaze before Tiffany caught me cataloging every enticing curve of her barely covered body, I stared down at the tray and tried to figure out why my brain was so perturbed by what Lucy had just said. It being probably the last hot day of the year, I should have expected her to propose they spend what was left of it outside in the backyard. After all, it's the exact same thing she and Hanna had done the day before. Why should I care if they wanted to soak up the last of the summer sun?

But not hungry anymore?! I rolled my eyes at that news. To achieve such a state without eating is something only fickle, teenage girls are capable of. I guarantee, if it had been Daniel Park sleeping over instead of Tiffany, he would have devoured the gourmet snacks I so generously prepared. Growing, teenage boys never turn down an offer of food. But honestly, wasting a few cheap snacks didn't really bother me. But something did. What was it?

The tray, which also carried three full glasses of water, started to weigh down my arms, and prompted me to look for a place to set it down. The coffee table was the most obvious choice, but it was also directly in front of where Tiffany was sitting. Fearing what my wandering eyes might do if I got too close to the bikinied babe, I shied away from the couch and angled toward the flat surface of the tv console far across the room. I was just about to set the tray down when Tiffany spoke.

"Yeah, Mikey," she teased, having grown enamored by my sister's childish nickname for me, "we're going straight outside just as soon as Lucy finishes showing me this wedding album. I had no idea you were married!"

That's when it finally registered in my brain what book Tiffany had in her lap. It was our unofficial Jenkins family scrapbook!

Turning the page, she gushed, "my, my! Mike Jenkins, aren't you just full of secrets!"

It's kind of a long story. But believe it or not, technically, I was married according to the obscure, heathen traditions of a long-extinct, African tribe. But there was nothing traditional about the wildly inappropriate wedding pictures which Tiffany was currently browsing to her great amusement. For starters, the groom just so happened to be a completely naked and extremely aroused, young man you might know!

When my heart skipped a beat, I gasped and reached for my chest. That caused me to drop the tray with a loud thud and sent the drinking glasses tumbling. But I had bigger problems than a little, spilled water.

My face turned bright red recalling the humiliating photos that Mel, a meddling cousin of the bride, had taken. Now that Tiffany had full-color, photographic evidence of my potent endowment, she would no longer have to depend on mere rumors or on Lucy's sketches on the wall of the locker room.

Before she could turn any more pages and reach the explosive, and utterly humiliating, climax of the story, I flew across the room and lunged for the book. Lucy complained about me rudely yanking something out of her guest's hands - not that I was going to let her stop me. Surprisingly, Tiffany didn't seem to mind either, but let me take possession of the book without a fight. I guess she had already seen enough to satisfy her curiosity.

Just then, a loud, ominous pop behind me made me jump. Spinning in place, I saw spilled water cascading over the blank screen of the tv like a mini waterfall while sparks came out the top. The water must have found its way into the cooling vents! As smoke started to curl out, I feared a fire starting inside, and temporarily forgetting about the book, rushed back across the room to unplug it. Even after I crawled behind the console and yanked on the cord, the box continued making concerning, crackling sounds.

With the smell of smoky, melting plastic driving the girls from the room, I retrieved some towels and tried to mop up the mess. I knew enough about electronics to know water is bad for them. And although the sparking eventually stopped, I worried our tv might be permanently ruined. Hoping, by some miracle, that it might start working again after drying out a bit, I stopped working on the tv and swept up the tray of scattered snacks.

Standing up, I popped one of the little, toasted squares into my mouth...and immediately spit it out. It was so disgusting that I was kinda glad everything had gone sideways before Tiffany got a chance to taste one. Her opinion of me was already plenty low enough. I didn’t need her believing me a terrible cook on top of everything else! Having dropped the scrapbook in my haste to stop the fire, I circled back to retrieve and put it somewhere safe before leaving the room. But to my further dismay, I couldn't find it anywhere! That meant Lucy or Tiffany had snuck away with it while I was distracted by the spill.

Scowling, I carried the tray back into the kitchen and threw the snacks away. But don't worry. My mood greatly improved when I reached the kitchen sink and happened to glance through the window overlooking the backyard. I could just barely see from there where the girls were sunbathing. Because we only owned one of those metal and plastic lawn chairs, Lucy had, of course, offered it to her guest.

She was content spreading out her beach towel and laying on the ground beside Tiffany. But what really caught my attention was what looked like a small, black mound of fabric on the other side of Tiffany's chair. Because her chair back was propped up and facing directly away from the house, I couldn't tell for sure. But it looked very much like our distinguished guest might have taken her top off! To add fuel to my theory, as soon as Lucy plopped down on her spot, she followed her captain's lead and reached for the ties of her own top.

Before I tell you what I did next, I want to make something perfectly clear. I don't think of myself as some degenerate horndog who looks for holes in the walls of pool changing rooms or hangs out in the intimates section of department stores just to catch glimpses of female bodies. I consider myself the type of person who generally respects the privacy of women. However, every man has his limits of propriety. My limit was Tiffany freaking Lennox taking her top off in my own backyard. My midnight fantasies were already bursting with imagined scenes based on what Lucy had told me about cheer camp. And with my prospects of an actual, sexual encounter with her extinguished, I desperately wanted to claim the sight of Tiffany's naked rack as a consolation prize.

Straining over the sink, I quickly concluded that I wasn't going to see anything peering through the tiny kitchen window. So, I rushed over to one side of the sliding doors and snuck a peek outside. The large, clear pane of glass did greatly improve my view of the backyard. From here, I easily saw my topless sister lying flat on her back and could confirm that the lump of black fabric on the ground beside the lounger was indeed Tiffany's bikini top. But the chair itself continued to frustrate my view of her actual body.

Since none of the first-floor windows would give me the angle I needed, I would just have to go higher. Wracking my brain, I visualized the location and view of every upstairs window. And while none of them were in the right spot, I did come up with another, potential solution. Smiling, I backed away from the sliding door and beat a hasty retreat from the kitchen. As far as I knew, I would only be the second boy in our school to ever see Tiffany topless. The other, a kid named Freddy Gonzales, would gladly tell his story to anyone who asked. I had heard it so many times, I could easily recount the major details.

The alleged encounter had occurred two summers earlier when Tiffany and Freddy were both about to go into seventh grade. Every summer, Freddy worked for his father's hardscaping business. And that day, his father sent him with the crew to restore an ornate, winding sidewalk at the country club. This sidewalk just so happened to run beside one of the nicest houses in the club.

Because Freddy wasn't skilled enough to do anything important, his job that day was to be a gopher - keeping the other workers supplied and hauling away the trash. At one point, he was sent to fill two, five-gallon buckets with water. Approaching the nearest house, he found a spigot, but after filling the buckets, claims to have gotten turned around.

Using the wrong gate, he stepped into what he describes as a paradise on Earth - a masterfully curated garden full of leafy, green plants and brightly colored birds flitting through ornate trees. The pleasant smell of blooming flowers and faint music drew him further inside. The curious boy ventured along a small, paved path until he reached a well-manicured stretch of lawn that would put any putting green to shame.

The lawn was bigger than it first appeared and lined by thick, privacy hedges. But Freddy’s eyes were drawn to the large, rectangular swimming pool in the middle. At first, sunlight reflecting off the crystal, clear oasis temporarily blinded him, and made him wish for some way to shade his eyes. But as his pupils adjusted, he squinted across the lawn and nearly dropped his buckets.

According to Freddy, there was a girl lounging beside the pool, wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of bikini bottoms! Even back then, before she had taken her rightful place as captain of the cheer team and queen of the junior high, social hierarchy, Tiffany Lennox was still very recognizable.

He had no evidence to support his claim. And in the two years since the supposed encounter, most people gradually came to question the validity of it. It was more likely, if he had somehow stumbled upon her sunbathing in her own backyard, he had added the naked part to make it more salacious. I tended to give Freddy's story a little more faith than most, though. Tiffany's family frequently went on vacations to Europe. And from my mother's stories about the French Riviera, I knew that Europeans have different ideas about modesty. I could totally picture Tiffany at some secluded, private beach, wearing fewer clothes than most Americans would ever dare.

Whether Freddy really saw anything that day or not, I'll never know. But one piece of evidence, I could investigate for myself. If her chest had no tan lines, that would greatly bolster his claims that she liked to hang out beside her pool topless.

My bedroom window overlooked the front yard, and Lucy's the side yard. So, they were of no use to me. But there was another, rarely used, door that held some promise. Taking a left at the top of the stairs, I went through the door which led into the attic space. A wall of stifling heat met me as I stepped through. In the heat of the day, and with our air conditioner having completely stopped working, our house was already nearing an unbearable temperature. But up here, just below the baking roof, it was much worse. I started sweating immediately.

Thinking autumn couldn't come soon enough, I walked past the broken, dead-silent, A/C equipment as well as a few cardboard boxes which probably contained old Christmas decorations or forgotten childhood treasures. I wasn't interested in any of that. My destination was the vent on the far wall which, if my calculations were correct, would directly overlook the sunbathing girls.

I soon reached the end of the plywood flooring, but driven by hormones and curiosity, kept going. Smart enough not to walk directly on the drywall, I stepped from beam to beam. Fiberglass insulation tickled my bare legs and, when I reached down to brush them away, also clung to the hairs of my arms. Sweat covered my brow and started to run down my face, and my lungs didn’t like the hot, stale air.

At one point, because I was looking down to find the next beam and not where I was going, I took a step and bumped right into a rafter. As years of undisturbed dust and grit rained down on me, I cursed and looked up. I had come way too close to walking right into the pointy end of an exposed nail. Suddenly, a little bump on the head didn't seem so bad.

Walking more carefully and keeping my head down, I eventually reached the vent which was mounted directly into the back wall of the house. The vent was probably a couple of feet square with small, downward-angled fins to keep rodents and other creatures out of the attic while still permitting airflow. Once I was sure of my footing, I leaned forward eagerly to see out. To my utter elation, all my efforts were rewarded. Looking straight down, I had the perfect, unrestricted view of our head cheerleading captain’s gorgeous, naked chest!

Like everything else on her model body, Tiffany’s chest was well-proportioned. Two years ahead of Lucy in development, her swelling boobs exceeded the outline of her feminine form and constituted more than half the depth and mass of her upper torso. A plump, perfectly round, nipple poked up proudly in the exact middle of each breast and was encircled by an areola the color of rich honey. Even if those boobs weren't attached to anyone notable, they would still be worth celebrating. But on Tiffany, they were an immeasurable treat.

The list of males who had ever seen Tiffany's naked chest since her boobs started growing in had to be incredibly short. Probably a doctor at some point, and Rooster at camp. Then there was Bruce Meyers - the luckiest bastard in the world. And because I saw no sign of tan lines - just even, bronzed skin - I added Freddy Gonzales to that list.

Every boy in my school would kill to have this view. The rare sight made my cock surge to attention and started complaining about being so painfully confined in my shorts. Gaping silently through the narrow grates, I dared to pull my waistband down far enough to free it. But as soon as my aching cock had sprung free, I couldn't resist its request for a few, gratifying strokes.

When my erection surged to its full size and my blue balls roared to life, I recognized, too late, the foolishness of masturbating right then and there. I told my hand to stop stroking and let go, but it resisted that request. Instead, my body fought me for control. Having been denied some much-needed relief that very morning, my cock demanded that my hand keep stroking no matter what my rational brain wanted it to do.

With the surge of arousal growing to overpower my reservations, I had to stifle a pleasurable groan. My knees buckled, and my shorts fell around my ankles which threw up a cloud of dust. Even when I closed my eyes to slow the progress of my arousal, image of Tiffany's perfect, naked tits was burned into my retinas.

I was surprised and a little alarmed by how easily this powerful surge broke through the normally sturdy layers of my mental cocoon. But then again, I did have lots of pent-up sexual frustration that needed to come out. My peak was fast approaching when a signal broke through my haze of arousal - warning me that my primed, sexual firehose was pointed directly at the open grate! If I ended up spraying myself all over the oblivious girls down below, I would be forever branded one of those weirdos the evening news was always warning parents about.

Gasping, I was able to halt my strokes, and squeezed my surging penis. I opened my eyes and looked around wildly for a safe direction to shoot in. Even if I turned to the side, I would still be making a mess in the attic that would be impossible to clean up. But before I could make up my mind what to do, my pleasure session was interrupted by another bodily function.

Because my gasp sucked a bunch of disturbed dust right into my nose, I started sneezing, loudly and uncontrollably! Fearing I was going to be detected by the girls, I let go of my cock and had enough sense to back away from the vent. My heart was pounding as I stood there on the edge of cumming, with my shorts still around my ankles and my erection bobbing angrily in the air. Even if it wasn't a million degrees up there, anyone in my position would have been sweating like crazy!

With immense effort, I got my nose under control and was able to stop sneezing, though the dust and exertion stung my eyes. While I didn't know for sure if the girls had heard my sneezing fit, I had to assume the worst.

Fleeing the scene, I made a mad scramble back across the attic, yanking up my shorts and stuffing my protesting cock back into its prison as I went. I have to say, it was not my proudest moment. Jittery, covered in sweat, and itching everywhere from the insulation - I returned to the hall, slammed the attic door shut behind me, and held my breath.

I waited several seconds to see if they were going to charge up the stairs and confront me. But when a minute passed and no one came, I dared to breathe a sigh of relief. Angry at myself for being so paranoid, I went straight to the bathroom to take a shower and regroup. Turning the water all the way down regulated my body temperature and helped me stop sweating. The sneezing fit and subsequent, perilous flight had also short-circuited my building arousal. And the cold shower tempered it back down to a manageable level.

Returning to my bedroom and changing into a clean outfit, I swore off any more perverse attempts to spy on Tiffany. I simply was not cut out for the nerve-wracking life of a peeping tom. But I did promise Mikey Jr. that, as soon as she had gone home in the morning, I would use the tantalizing image of her naked breasts - still burned into my memory - to finally give him what he deserved.

With the late afternoon sunlight fading, the girls had put their tops back on by the time I returned downstairs. They eventually gave up on sunbathing and retired to Lucy’s room to change. Lucy came down in the same play clothes she had been wearing earlier. But of course, Tiffany had a smart, new outfit to spend the evening in.

No longer striving to ogle Tiffany's physical assets at every opportunity, I could relax around her and come across as less eager. And now that I had given up all hope of earning a sexual encounter from her, I felt no pressure to perform or impress. As I settled in that evening, and gradually grew more comfortable, she finally got to see the real Mike Jenkins.

There were still some things that irked me about her. To keep my self-consciousness at bay, I had to pretend the whole scrapbook debacle had never happened. And about the fifth time she slipped the mention of her boyfriend into the conversation like a nervous tick, I nearly rolled my eyes. I guess, for some reason, she just had him on her mind a lot that evening.

Perhaps it makes sense, when you stop and think about it. Without trying, she usually intimidated every boy she encountered, and was used to having them whither in her presence, like I had done when she first arrived. It must have surprised her a little to hear me suddenly cracking jokes and parrying her comments with wit and charm. Looking back, spending time with this new, casual, confident person, must have been enough of a revelation for her to reconsider her initial opinion of me.

At the very least, it was enough to prompt Tiffany to start asking questions. Apparently, I ended up being a hot topic of conversation between the girls that night. And while I was not privy to those conversations, Lucy did tell me afterward what kinds of things Tiffany wanted to know about me. She answered her captain's questions honestly; telling about how I looked after her and mom, and even took care of the family finances, how I never raised my voice unnecessarily, and how I was always willing to help Lucy with anything she asked.

Lucy avoided talking about her dares or my involvement in them. But she did speak glowingly about her dependable big brother, even mentioning a couple of my more notable talents; namely, my aptitude for discretion, and my exceptional massage skills. Tiffany was particularly intrigued by that part. She had personally experienced the incredible effects of Riviera Dave's secret sauce at cheer camp. And as I had many opportunities to discover over the course of my life, girls with big boobs love nothing more than a nice, relaxing, breast massage.

I, of course, had been completely oblivious to Tiffany's evolving opinion of me. At the appropriate time, I had simply bid her and my sister farewell and retired to my bedroom for the night. I slept soundly, satisfied with the admirable way I had comported myself after a few, early stumbles. But I’m not going to pretend I ever expected to be woken the next morning by a soft knock for the second day in a row. Only, instead of her eager, helpful, little sister knocking at my door, this time, it was Lucy’s big sister who came to play!

[student]

Neverdoubted has mastered the cliff hanger. I need to break out my mountaineering gear.

[Kazu]

Well I wonder what she is visiting for. It feels like a direct massage would be too quick, so I am expecting some sort of long conversation to take place preceding any fun. Or maybe there is a switch with her setting him up with someone else(I am seriously trying to glean what "the lost years" mean).

Anyway, great Chapter(part) as always.

Neverdoubted has mastered the cliff hanger. I need to break out my mountaineering gear.

Bro has us doing the crazy one handed(not like that) move people love to take pictures of.

[Patronus]

The cliffhangers are so good. I’ve attempted several times to try and save chapters but it always seems to fail due to my need to resolve the last chapter cliffhanger. Time to repeat the cycle as i eagerly await the next chapter

[Themarble]

Too early to ask for some more? (:

[perseus]

I'm hoping there is more soon too!

[student]

I second the motion. Sir, more please?

[neverdoubted]

Just waiting to see if there's enough interest

[Themarble]

Keep the chain going then people!!