Free Truth or Dare by Matt Nicholson Page B

for my dick to get hard again.  I would
have laughed when I heard Gary gasp, if I hadn’t already been
biting back a gasp of my own.
    She walked up
and gave me a piece of paper.
    “Here’s your
script.  I found this website that’s willing to pay me good
money to do this.  You do what it says, and Gary films
it.  I figure an hour, hour and a half, tops.  All the
props are under the sofa and on the end table so you can find them
no matter what head you’re thinking with.”
    I stood by the end table and looked from the paper to the
props and back again.  I bet Gary almost laughed
at  me  that time.  It read more like a laundry list of things
most guys dreamed of doing and less like anything resembling a
‘script,’ but since I was definitely a guy, it got my seal of
approval.  Besides stuff you’d expect—fondling and
fingering—someone was supposed to whip her pussy with a leather
flail, torture her nipples with clamps and poke them with… I know I
did a double-take when I saw the word “needles” and a triple-take
when I saw what they were eventually going to be used
for.
    The
understanding that the “someone” was me was just beginning to work
its way through my caffeine-deprived brain when I looked from the
Inquisition checklist at her.  “How much is this site payin’
you?  Fuck!”
    She laughed as
I walked behind her and looked at the view.  When I started to
reach for her waist, she put her hands back behind her head so her
tits stretched up.  Her hard nipples popped up over the edge
of the bra.  Gary’s eyes were big as saucers.
    “They’re just
needles, doofus, a little stick and then it’s no big deal. 
Hell, shots at the doctor hurt worse.”
    “Shots don’t
pin your tits to a table.  And you usually only get one at a
time.”
    She shrugged
and looked at a phone on the end table.  “You’re the tit man,
so I figured you’d be good for a free day at the races.  But,
if you’re not game, I know a couple other guys that’ll be here in
time for you to catch Saturday morning cartoons.”
    Cussing myself
for almost blowing it, I spanked a quick one on her ass.  I
figured she'd think it was a macho thing.  Actually, I just
wanted to feel her ass.  Hell, if she wanted me to make her
tits into pincushions for a few bucks, who was I to argue. 
“Okay…okay.  I’m already here anyway.”
    She pulled her
butt out of my reach and looked at Gary.  When she saw him
gaping like a teenager, she rolled her eyes.  “You’re here to
earn fifty bucks, dickhead, not drool.  You gonna set up this
week?”
    While Gary
stumbled over himself, I read the rest of the list.  I got to
the part about the rope, smiled to myself at the thought of
dripping hot wax on her pretty parts, and then…
    I was still
imagining the rope thing when I got to more needles.  I was
supposed to poke them with needles after they turned to purple
balloons.  And she was doing this voluntarily.  I tried
to act cool, even though I could already feel the wet spot in the
front of my underwear, and my cock was hurting.  “They really
like needles, don’t they?”
    Gary looked at
the e-mail over my head and grinned like a moron.  “Hot dog,
and you’re paying me to do this!”
    She gave him a
withering stare.  “Not if you don’t get started, moron. 
You ready?”
    He stepped
behind the camera while I stepped behind her.
    “I’m ready
whenever you two lovebirds are.”
    I ignored him
and just kind of watched while she pulled her bra back up over her
nipples.  “So, I guess we should get started?”
    She turned to
the camera and backed up to me so her butt nestled against my
crotch, then spread her legs.  “Finger away…”  She
pressed harder, rubbing herself against my obviously hard
cock.  “Don’t enjoy yourself too much, Dickweed.”
    Shrugging to
myself, I reached around and started fingering her pussy through
her panties like the e-mail said.   Who was I to argue
with art?  Gary