Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Dee Does MS 7 rev 7/10-15 By peregrinf

   A playroom is a playroom, right?  I'd been expecting the usual, chairs
and a couch, TV, toys and games, stuff like that.

   This was a gymnast's playroom.  It was like Mom had put a pool and
diving board in our basement for me and Carl.  (Yeah, right, like that's
even possible!) Though the ceiling was too low for anything too gymnastic,
like uneven parallel bars or vaulting, there was a smattering of gymnastic
stuff, like a balance beam at floor level, and some stuff along the walls,
and the floor was cushioned with gymnastic mats, wall to wall!  One wall
was nothing but mirrors.

   It also was a room that could easily be adapted for a sleepover, and had
been.  In this case, there were soft fluffy pillows everywhere.  Wall to
wall mattresses and pillows galore.  It was one giant bed of infinite
possibilities.

   We added our sleeping bags to the row already against the wall.  Most of
them had some sort of stuffed toy or battered doll perched on them.

   Apparently Judy had spent the afternoon cooking up some of her ethnic
specialties; spicy concoctions of meats and veggies, along with a bowl of
rice, were steaming on an electric hot tray in the center of a big sheet in
the middle of the room.  There were paper plates and, just to tease us
there were chopsticks -- in my case guaranteed to result in more food on me
than in me -- a stack of paper napkins probably a foot high, boxes of
wet-wipes, and a cooler full of sodas to put out any fires caused by the
spices.

   But before she let us descend on the delicious smelling morsels, she
made us pair off, and that's where the icing came into play.  Judy herself
chose a fluorescent orange shade.  She finger-painted my name between my
tits, then some impish impulse made her cap my tits with icing.

   I didn't object.

   When Judy was done on me I took the icing from her and returned the
flavor -- I mean favor -- labeling her trimly muscular torso, finishing by
carefully sculpting little caps on the pert brown nipples that graced her
pecs, while the other kids followed suit on each other.

   When we had finished licking our icing fingers clean, we descended on
the food.  Most of us quickly gave up on the chop sticks and the paper
plates.  There was a flurry and a tangle of reaching arms and grabbing
fingers, and a lot of feeding of each other, including a few air mail
deliveries, until Judy put a stop to it as too messy.  It was probably the
most nutritious slumber party meal ever served, but no one complained.  It
was good!

   I made sure John received a well balanced diet.  He had a tendency to
concentrate on the morsels of pork and chicken.  A growing boy needs his
veggies!

   Eventually we were reduced to lounging around, burping and picking our
teeth.  Esther was lying on her back, her black corn-row braids draped on
Naomi's smooth, pale thigh -- ebony on ivory -- while Naomi, juggling
chopsticks, tried to air drop stir fry morsels into Esther's mouth, with
about fifty percent accuracy.

   Esther is so beautiful.  She could be sculpted of milk chocolate, with
dark chocolate kisses for nipples.  She looked like the Queen of Sheba, or
maybe the young Princess of Sheba, since she was as flat as I used to be,
but wasn't anymore.  It was a pose that Kathy would have loved to capture
on canvas, or perhaps with pastels, or charcoal, on paper.

   Some of the names on our torsos were a little smeared, and there were
juices on our fingers and faces.  The smallest one, Izzy, changed her name
to Izzv with a swipe of her finger, before Judy took charge again.

   "Izzy, please!" she scolded gently.  "You're labeled for a reason. 
We'll have dessert later."

   She mobilized her troops to get things tidied up.  And they were her
troops.  It was obvious Judy was the Alpha Bitch of this pack, and I mean
that in the nicest way (we've been studying wolves in one of my classes),
and Maria was her deputy.  Faces and fingers were washed clean courtesy of
boxes of wipes that were passed around.  The worst body splotches were
mopped up, too, while the icing names on torsos were refreshed as needed.
The meal and its crumbs were cleared away in about two minutes, before
everyone settled on the mats.

   Beth and John and I found ourselves facing a bunch of expectant young
faces in a cluster in front of us, and I suddenly realized I had to put my
game face on and quit looking at them the way I studied the menu at
Cookies'n'Cream.  Delectable as they all were, they were innocent kids,
looking to us for straight information.

   I tried to remember what I wanted to know about sex when I was in sixth
grade, and I was at a total loss.  Fortunately, The Stick stepped in,
reminding me that they could supply the questions.  All I had to do -- all
WE had to do -- was come up with the answers.

   "Okay, some of you we know, but some we don't.  Why don't you guys
spread out a little bit so we can see your names better."

   They formed a sort of a half-circle, while Beth and John and I settled
at the focus.

   "So, what don't you believe that Judy told you, or what do you want to
know?" I asked.

   The silence was deafening.  The kids looked everywhere but at the three
of us.  They looked at their hands.  Barbara became suddenly interested in
picking lint out of her navel.  Next to her Cynthia was playing "this
little piggy" or something, with her toes.  Izzy still clutched her bunny.
Even Judy and Maria were part of our audience, and they didn't say
anything.

   These poor kids were clueless, even after what Judy and Maria had tried
to teach them.  I began to think that they didn't even know what they
didn't know.

   I glanced to Beth for help, but found no hope there.  This whole
sleepover idea may have been Judy's, but I was the one holding the ball. 
John was studying his fingers again.

   Natural born leader my ass.  I was stumped.  I'd forgotten how young
they were.  They were barely out of the "Judy and Danny, sitting in a tree,
K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" stage of their lives -- if they were even out of that stage
at all.  They were where I was when I was teasing Carl about running around
high school naked and he and Beth first started their mating dance.

   Finally Izzv (she'd deliberately poached the tail of the "y" again as a
snack) broke the impasse.  "I don't understand what all the big deal about
sex is.  I mean, like, what's the big deal?"

   Izzy was a little waif, cute as a bug's ear, with fine light brown hair,
big brown eyes in her elfin face, and the attitude of a Yorkshire terrier.
She was the only in the group clutching a stuffed animal in her naked lap,
her very worn, lop-eared, one eyed bunny.  I was willing to bet that she
was the youngest in the class, promoted ahead because she was smart.

   She had my sympathy.  When that had happened to me -- I skipped 5th
grade -- at least it put me in the same grade as Missy and we started
middle school together.  I don't know what I would have done without her by
my side during those first cruel weeks.

   What's the big deal about sex?  Okay, how do I handle that question? 
Did I even want to demolish her childish innocence?

   "You'd know if you had a boyfriend," Angelina sniped.

   Izzy flushed.  "Eeewwwww!"

   "Okay, okay, that's enough of that!"

   They subsided and I breathed a sigh of relief.  At least I still
commanded some respect.

   They knew where babies came from.  That was covered at the end of grade
school, but even if she'd missed 5th grade sex ed I bet Izzy had already
been teased beyond the stork story.  What Izzy hadn't yet experienced was
that flood of hormones kicking in.

   So I went back to the beginning, Beth's lecture that first day, made
simple.  "Some of you are clueless, but some of you are getting an idea of
why there's such a fuss about sex.  Your whole world is turning
upside-down. Right?"

   Nods from some, a frown from Izzy.

   "You're fascinated and repulsed by boys.  You're wanting want to -- to
do things -- with them, and they are wanting to do things with you, but no
one is quite sure how to start the discussion.  You may not even be sure
what it is you want to do.

   "Sex is, well, like wanting a super fast racing bike so much that you'd
steal it, just for a one little ride.  You'd like that first ride so much
that you'd ride it again, and again, and again, going faster and faster,
and sure enough, sooner or later you'd hit a pot hole and go right over the
handlebars.  And as you flew through the air you'd wish you'd remembered
your helmet.

   "Sex is like that.  You want it so bad you'll try it, even if you know
deep inside that you might get in really big trouble.  Once you try it you
won't want to stop.  We're here to provide you with a crash helmet.

   "You'll want more and more sex, and the boy will, too, and maybe he'll
tell you it's okay, that he'll pull out before he comes, so you can't get
pregnant, so you keep doing it.

   "I bet Judy and Maria told you that you can get pregnant even if the boy
takes his penis out before he squirts his semen in you, and you don't
believe it."

   Barbara, a blossoming brunette, frowned.  "That's what Judy and Maria
said, but it doesn't make sense."

   "Yeah, that's one little detail they leave out of 5th grade sex ed," I
explained.  "I guess they think that's a little too graphic."

   I turned to John, wondering if he could handle being Exhibit A in a
little show-and-tell.  I was surprised to see him exchanging shy looks with
one of the girls to the right, a pretty blonde whose shape reminded me of
Missy at that age -- a little plump, just blossoming -- and his cock was
obviously responding to her as well.  Meanwhile she was trying not to look
at him, and not succeeding at all.

   I caught his attention, and reached for his cock.  He flinched a little,
but nodded it was okay.

   Judging by its half-hard state, all these naked pre-teens had him fueled
and on the launch pad.  Just my touch was enough to initiate the count
down. His already warm meat became hot, and began to stiffen and I gave it
an encouraging squeeze.

   "This is John, and this is John's cock," I explained.

   I began to stroke it, slowly and gently.  It stiffened further, and he
looked happy, and embarrassed.  "You like this?" I asked him.

   He nodded, but shot the pretty blonde an embarrassed look.  She was
watching with wide blue eyes.

   "What I'm doing is masturbating him.  You know that word?  He could do
it himself, but I enjoy lending a helping hand, and you like it too, don't
you John?"

   He blushed and nodded.

   "He likes the feeling -- and I like doing it -- and he's getting more
excited -- and I am, too," I admitted, as I did a visual check on his
prick. "Now, if you'll come up, and look at the tip of his cock, you'll see
a drop of a clear liquid coming out of it.  Come on up, one at a time,
starting with Angelina here, so we don't have a stampede."

   I squeezed, to push some more out, and stopped moving my hand, afraid he
might erupt prematurely.  Angelina gave me a bashful look before examining
John's seeping penis.

   "Move along once you get a look.  Eventually he's going to come, but I
want you to see this liquid.  It's kinda thick, real slippery, and clear as
water.  It is called pre-come.  There's probably some fancy scientific name
for it, but everyone I know calls it pre-come.  See it?"

   How could they not?  Leaving a snail trail behind, it slithered down to
the crevice between my thumb and his prick.

   I increased the pressure a little, and resumed stroking, a little
faster. The goo was making a sticky sound as the last of the girls got
their look.  I ran my thumb over the head of his cock, stroking that oh-so
sensitive bulb, making it gleam with his oozings.

   "Pre-come makes his cock slippery so it can slide into you easily.  But
pre-come also usually contains a few sperm, even though he hasn't squirted
yet -- are you about to squirt?"

   John nodded tensely.  He was leaning back on his hands, his fingers
clawing the gym mat.

   "I thought so.

   "So, if he's in your cunt those sperm are, too, eager to find one of
your egg cells and do the deed.  Oh oh!  Here he comes!"

   John's cock pulsed in my hand, his hips thrusting, and thick, pearly
jets of semen shot up, spattering down on his chest, tummy, thighs, and my
hand.  The first strong bursts slowly faded to pulsed oozings spilling over
my hand and down his prick.

   "I know the doctors say it is only a teaspoon or two or three, but it
always seems like more," I observed.

   I switched on my sarcastic mode.  "I'm sure you'd be shocked to learn
that boys have been known to lie, or just misjudge and pull out too late,
or simply get carried away and forget to pull out.

   "Don't depend on them.  They're not the ones who get pregnant, you are.
Don't let him in without protection unless you want to be called 'mommy.'"

   Wide eyed and serious, they nodded.

   "That's what Judy and Maria were trying to tell you," I said, licking
John's come off my hand.

   "Eeewwww."

   "Really, it doesn't taste bad," I assured Izzy.

   "And you can't get pregnant from eating come," Beth put in, finally
helping me out.  "It's a little salty is all, and kinda gooey in texture.
You've heard of sucking cock?  If you suck a guy's cock he likes the idea
of you swallowing his come."

   "Have you done that?" Esther asked.

   Beth smiled dreamily.  "Oh yeah," she answered warmly.  "Lots of times,
with my boyfriend.  I like doing it.  He likes me doing it."

   "But what would sucking him off do for me, other than maybe keeping him
from fucking me?" Barbara asked.  "I mean, if I'm horny I want something
out of this."

   "What you want is called an orgasm," Beth said dryly.  "Really, the best
thing about sex is sharing the pleasure with someone you really care about.
You suck him, he goes down on you -- that's when he does you with his
tongue and lips.  If he's not willing to do that he's not the boy for you.
You can even do it to each other at the same time, heads to crotches."

   "It's called sixty-nine," Judy put in.

   I sort of tried to form the digits in the air with my fingers, showing
how they fit together.  It didn't work very well.  "Get it?  Pregnancy is
not a risk, and once he's come he'll be more manageable."

   There was some nervous laughter, which was encouraging.  I was afraid
this was getting too serious.  This was supposed to be a slumber party. 
Slumber parties are supposed to be about games, and fun.  I was trying to
figure out how to change course when Alice timidly raised her hand and I
called on her.

   "Uh, this is kinda not really on the -- about sex, but -- uh -- Beth,
how come you don't have any hair -- uh -- down there?"

   Beth looked surprised.  "I don't?" She looked down at herself.  "Oh,
that's right, I don't.  Must be because I shave it off."

   "You do?  Why?" Alice asked once the laughter had died down.

   "Because I like the way it feels," she answered.  "And Carl, he's my
boyfriend, he likes the way it feels, and it feels really good when he goes
down on me, and he likes going down on me better when it's shaved.  He
doesn't like having to wander in the forest to find my grotto, so to
speak."

   "Oh." Alice was so cute, with her big blue eyes and baby face she looked
so young and innocent.

   Beth stroked her crotch.  "But, oh dear, stubble.  I forgot to shave
this morning.  Where's my overnight case.  Oh, there it is!"

   She quickly threw open her little suitcase.  "My razor.  Where's my
razor?  I know I put it in here!"

   Now, I know Beth well enough to know that she is super-organized.  I was
willing to bet she knew exactly where everything was in that suitcase, and
if she hadn't shaved this morning it wasn't by accident.

   She began tossing the most amazing variety of sex toys this way and that
in front of the girls.  There were vibrators and dildos, strange sets of
straps, condoms, tubes of lubricants, a pair of what I assume were tit
clips connected by a thin metal chain, even a soft leather whip with a
bunch of tails.

   What had she and Carl been up to lately?

   There were even some things I didn't recognize but which somehow looked
just deliciously wicked.

   "There it is!" She came up triumphantly waving a rechargeable razor. 
Then she looked down at her naked crotch before looking over at John. 
"John, would you help me, please?"

   Dear John.  He looked her right in the face, looked even closer at her
face.  Apparently between his orgasm and flirting with Alice he'd lost his
place in the proceedings.  "You shave?"

   Beth chuckled, not unkindly.  "Not my face, silly.  Down there!" She
pointed.

   "Oh!" John went from pink to scarlet.  "I -- I don't know how.  I don't
shave yet."

   She put the razor in his hand.  "It's easy."

   She reached out and snagged a pillow for under her ass, lay back, and
spread her legs wide, wide, wide, the soles of her feet together, offering
her pussy up to him like an oyster on the half shell.  And by the way, I've
eaten 'em -- raw oysters, that is.  They look kinda slimy and gross, but
they taste good -- sorta like a girl's quim, you might say.

   "Go ahead, it's all right.  You can't hurt me." She had to reach out and
switch on the razor for him -- he was nearly catatonic -- and guide his
hand.  Once she got him started, though, he was all right, moving around by
her feet and leaning forward so he could reach better, frowning in
concentration, the tip of his tongue between his lips.  She stretched,
spreading her arms, arching her back sensuously, her firm breasts skyward,
excited nipples all hard and pointy, a non-virgin sacrifice.

   The razor buzzed over her skin, and she purred.  "Oooooyeah.  Don't miss
any."

   You could hear the razor rasping off her stubble.  John was bending so
close he had to be able to smell her aroused pussy.  I could from where I
was.

   When he hesitated, Beth guided his hands lower, between her thighs.  She
used her fingers to stretch the flesh so he didn't miss any crevices or
wrinkles, first one side, then the other of her soft pussy lips, guiding
the razor down, tipping her pelvis up so at one point, buzzing it around
her asshole, which resulted in some interesting convulsions and giggles on
her part, her tummy rippling, thighs flexing.

   Then she guided the corner of the business edge of the razor right up
along the shiny pink ruffles of her aroused pussy.

   "That's it," she purred.  "Don't stop.  Don't stop!" And her voice
trailed off into unintelligible garble, with her holding his wrist to keep
the razor in contact with her clit, giving herself one heck of a buzz-on --
or would it be a buzz-off?

   Oh wow!  I couldn't wait for me to need that kind of attention.  Sure,
I'm eager to have a muff as a sign of my maturity, but I think I'm looking
forward to getting off -- I mean getting IT off -- even more!

   Taking the razor out of John's hand she switched it off, and just lay
there, still wide open, catching her breath.

   Meanwhile, some of the girls had never seen a cock before John's.  Now
they were examining some extraordinarily life-like replicas.  I heard one
of the vibrators buzz to life, and saw Muriel and Donna with their heads
together, giggling.  Muriel touched it to Donna's tit , who shrieked and
batted it away, giggling.

   Cynthia, curled over to look at her crotch, was experimentally poking
one of the fake cocks, a big black one, at her slit.  At least she knew the
where, but not the how.  Angelina was running the strands of the whip
through her fingers, before experimentally slapping the inside of her thigh
with it.

   I picked up one of the mystery objects, a cone of black plastic with a
sort of flat base attached by a skinnier bit, and suddenly I realized that
it could only be a butt plug.  Judy was fondling another, slightly smaller
one and my pelvic muscles clenched at the sight of it.  She looked at me
and grinned, wickedly.

   I grinned back, nervously.  Setting it aside, I picked up the chain with
the clips on each end and examined them.  They had sort of a thingy so they
could be adjusted, so I tried it on one of my finger-tips, and winced.

   I took it off, remembering the reason for this whole do, which was to
educate the little darlings as to the ways of the world, sexually, that is.
But how to do it?  We'd gotten a start, but so far all they'd heard was the
scary part.  What about the fun parts?

   It must have been The Stick taking control of my mouth.  "How about a
game of Truth or Dare?" I asked over the self-conscious giggles and mutters
of the girls exploring the toys.

   It got the reaction you'd expect -- a chorus of groans.  The game was
the cliché of slumber parties, right up there with pillow fights, and
almost as dangerous, psychologically, at least, and they had these
intriguing gadgets to explore.

   But what better way was there?  They could ask questions, any questions,
and we -- me, Judy, Maria, Beth and John -- could answer, and if we didn't'
tell the truth we'd be subject to a dare.  And we could ask them questions,
or present dares to broaden their horizons.

   Beth was nodding and Judy was as quick catching on as I expected.  "Come
on, it'll be fun.  Get in a circle, and toss those things in the middle. 
We can use them for dares."

   Beth moved to start the circle.  "Asking for truth, the only rule is, no
questions about who has done what with whom.  After all, our -- uh --
partners, should there be any, aren't here to defend themselves, and they
might rather not become gossip fodder."

   I nodded in agreement.  I couldn't "out" Missy like that, even though
half the school already suspected us of being lesbians, which I knew Missy
wasn't.

   "As for dares," I put in, "no limits."

   Tossing all the toys in the middle, we arranged ourselves in a circle.
Beth and I deliberately flanked the still unsettled John so we could buffer
him from the other girls.

   "You go first, John," Beth suggested.

   "Uh -- I've never played this.  What are the rules?"

   Someone snickered, but Judy shot them a glare as she answered.  "Don't
worry, it's not hard.  You ask someone 'Truth or Dare?'"

   "If they say 'Dare,' you dare them to do something, like kiss someone,
or something," she added.  "Usually when we start we're all dressed, and
the first dares involve taking something off until we're naked, but we're
obviously already well beyond that point."

   "If they say 'Truth' you ask them a question, something like 'have you
ever kissed a boy?' They have to answer truthfully, of course," I
explained. "If they won't answer, or if they lie and are successfully
challenged, they have to do a dare."

   "But, if the person who challenged the answer is mistaken, and the
answer is true, then the challenger has to do a dare," Beth went on, "and
it goes on from there.  The person picked asks someone else 'Truth or
Dare.' Usually the action moves around the circle, but this time we'll go
freestyle.  Whoever gets asked, after they've done the truth or the dare,
they can ask anyone else, except the person who just asked them."

   He still looked a little confused, but I was sure he'd catch on quickly.
"Go ahead, ask me," I said.

   "Uh -- okay -- uh -- Truth or Dare?"

   "Truth," I answered.

   "Are you gay?"

   That brought a small chorus of "ooooo's" from the circle.  Usually these
things started off slowly, but John couldn't know that.

   "Fair question," I responded.  "I don't know."

   "But," Angelina put in, "everyone at school is saying...."

   Beth pounced.  "That sounds like a challenge to me."

   Angelina looked like she wished she'd kept her mouth shut.

   "My answer is the truth.  I don't know.  I think I might be bisexual.  I
like girls, and I like boys.  It's not an 'either-or' kind of thing.  And,
before you carry any tales, I know what people are saying about Missy and
me, but I can tell you for sure that Missy is not gay, and if I hear anyone
say otherwise, well...." I let my voice trail off, my meaning clear.  "Now,
you owe me a dare!"

   Angelina looked a little worried.

   "I dare you to kiss me, lips to lips, for at least one minute," I
ordered.  I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity, and considering her
challenge it seemed only fair.  She was a beautiful girl, with skin only a
little lighter than Maria's Hispanic copper, with long, straight black hair
drawn back in a pony tail, and little raisin nipples.

   "But...," she started, only to go silent when I cocked my eyebrow at
her. Then she leaned meekly toward me -- she was sitting right beside me --
and I gathered her in, my arm around her back, my free hand cupping the
back of her head so she couldn't escape.  As our lips met I sort of leaned
back so we fell back and she was half on top of me, her soft skin on mine,
her little pebble nipples poking me, our icing smearing sticky sweet
between us.

   She tried to get away with a closed mouth peck, but I didn't let her. 
She yielded to my tongue, and it wasn't long before she was fully involved
in a tongue swirling, spit swapping, lip mashing, teeth clashing Kiss, and
I had my thigh in her crotch.  When Beth called time, she wasn't the one to
break it off first, either.

   Smiling, I gave one of her stiff little nipples a tweak before I let her
go.  Her chest was heaving, her tummy squirming.

   She drew away and sat up, blushing, trying to catch her breath.

   "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?  You kiss nicely.  Now, since you had
to do a dare it's your turn," I reminded her.

   Probably reflexively, or because my kiss had such an impact, she turned
to the next girl, Barbara.  Barbara chose "Truth," so Angelina asked if
she'd ever kissed a girl (she had).

   Barbara, instead of just going around the circle, asked Beth "Truth or
Dare?"

   Beth didn't hesitate to go for truth.

   "Have you ever -- uh -- made love to another girl?" she asked nervously.


   "I have," Beth answered calmly.

   "Who...?" Barbara started, but Beth cut her off with a raised finger.

   "Nope, you can't ask that, remember?"

   "Sorry," Barbara looked abashed.

   "That's all right.  But I can tell you that it was someone that I
respect and love, and that made it easy.  It was a good experience," Beth
continued.

   But now it was Beth's turn.  "Alice, Truth or Dare?"

   Beth apparently had an agenda, picking on probably the most naïve member
of the group, even allowing for Izzy's youth.  Alice was the only one in
the circle sitting demurely, legs together and folded, her pussy tucked out
of sight, instead of the more open tailor fashion.  Alice's sweet blue eyes
got big as saucers, and she gulped.  Then she surprised me.

   "Dare," she answered in a whisper so soft we could hardly hear it,
looking down at her nervous hands.

   "I dare you to come over and kiss John, for a least one minute."

   Apparently Beth had picked up on the same glances between Alice and John
that I had.

   Alice turned pink and pinker.  I had the feeling she'd just received her
strongest wish, and her greatest terror, all at once.  She looked around,
looked at John, looked at his cock, looked back up at his face, and I swear
it was like some kind of tractor beam or hypnotic power went to work on
her. She crawled toward him on her knees, and I saw Beth whisper something
to John, who looked more eager, and less scared than Alice.  He
straightened his legs, extended his arms, and gathered her in with a
tenderness that made my eyes get wet.

   He was smitten.  And so was she.  The first kiss was tentative, but the
next meeting of their mouths was more aggressive, more open.  For a moment
there was an awkward tangle between his legs and hers, his rampant cock an
intruder.

   She solved the dilemma the simplest way possible, by straddling his
thighs, her butt on his knees.  The kiss got hotter and hotter.

   Everyone was holding her breath.

   John drew her closer as the kiss went on.  Her soft chest pressed
against his, and his hands slid down to cup her naked, well rounded ass,
and the kiss went on, and on, and on as he pulled her up tight against
himself, and she didn't even try to resist.  His cock slid up until was
vertical against her cunt, squeezed against his stomach.

   Beth called time, and still the kiss went on.  His hands stroked Alice's
silky naked back, and her nails raked his as she squirmed against him,
humping her naked crotch against the hard shaft of his prick.  It wasn't
just a kiss, it was an open mouthed, tongue tangling, tonsil tickling snog.


   We couldn't help it.  We all applauded, and that was enough break the
kiss, Alice looked at Beth, worried, blushing, starting to extract herself
from John.

   Beth grinned.  "There's nothing in the rules that says you can't stay
there, and keep on kissing.  But you do need to pick the next victim."

   Alice was so cute!  Still straddling John's lap, she looked around, over
her shoulder, and picked.  "Muriel.  Truth or dare?"

   "Dare," Muriel responded boldly.

   "Oh, dear.  Now I need to think of a dare." Alice's brow furrowed. 
"Kissing another girl?  No, we already did that.  No way can you kiss John!
A toy!"

   Listening to her was like listening to a bubbling stream or something,
it was so open and fresh and clear.

   She put a finger in her mouth and looked around over one shoulder, then
the other, at the scattered sex toys.  "I don't even know what some of them
are!  What do you call those things that look like John's -- thingy?" she
asked Beth.

   "You mean his cock?" Beth asked.  "It's called a dildo."

   Alice turned bright red, and glanced down at the aforementioned
appendage wedged between his stomach and her pussy, looking up at her with
its single eye.  "Yeah." She giggled.  The quiver of her crotch made his
prick swell a little more, and she squirmed her cunt against it again. 
She'd better be careful or Old Faithful might go off -- or maybe that would
be Old Face-full, given that it was aimed straight up at her chin.  "The
pink one."

   "The pink one is also a vibrator."

   "Oh, goody!  Muriel, you have to play with the pink dildo, for -- uhm --
five minutes.  Out in the middle of the circle, where everyone can see. 
With the vibrator -- uh -- vibrating!"

   Not exactly shy and retiring, Muriel reached for the very life-like
vibrator, and swept aside other things to clear a space, spreading her legs
so her naked pussy pointed right at Alice.

   The sight of the auburn haired sixth grader handling such a life-like
tool was a sight by itself.  She had a swimmer's tan -- bikini version --
so her crotch was pale, pale, pale, as well as her tits.  She examined the
dildo, ran her hand over it, even jokingly pretending to be going to put it
in her mouth, but didn't, at first.  Then she did, kissing the tip, then
she slid the fake dick between her lips.

   What a sight that was -- her sweet, young lips wrapped around a very
realistic cock.

   Drawing it out, slick with her spit, she gave the base a twist which
brought the vibrator to life, and she touched it experimentally to her left
tit.  Her chest was flat, but there was life in her little nubbins.  The
tip of her tit, already awake and alert, stuck out further as it danced to
the vibrator's tune, the base swelling to a puffy, rounded cone on her
not-yet-there boob.

   Oh how I wanted to suck on it!  Chew on it!  Tickle her ribs and stroke
her sweet flesh.  But I can't be a pedophile, I'm not enough older than she
is!  And, I confess, I was also feeling jealous of Alice's proximity to
John's hard on.

   Yeah, I like boys.  I had my regrets, sure, but last night, that had
been one helluva good fuck.

   After bringing both her tits to full distension, Muriel was visibly
turned on, shining pink ruffles emerging from their hiding place between
her soft pussy lips.  So she trailed the vibrator down toward her crotch,
poking it into her navel along the way, running it around her pussy,
teasing herself and us by sliding the vibrator up the insides of her
thighs, right to the edge of her puffy pussy lips.

   "One minute down, four to go." Trust Beth to be the time-keeper, of
course.

   Mentally I was urging Muriel on, eager to see her reaction when those
vibrations stirred her virginal tissues.

   Muriel's smile was tense, her teeth nibbling at her lower lip as she
tantalized herself with that buzzing dick.  She touched the pink ruffles
and visibly shivered.

   Her hair trailing down around her face as she looked down, Muriel parted
her pink ripples with the tip of the electric prick, wriggled it, wedged it
in, just a little bit, slid it up, and jerked when it touched her clit,
jerked again, then eased it down again, raising her head, looking skyward
as she pressed it into her cunt.

   "Two minutes down, three to go," Beth called.

   "Uh!  Oh!  Oh, I want to," Muriel whimpered, working to push the dildo
in further.  "Oh, I do!" She let out a whine, a little grunt, pushing it
into herself.  Another little grunt, a wince.

   I don't think there was a dry pussy in the room.  I made no secret of
stroking my own seeping folds.

   "Dee, would you help me?  Please?" Muriel pleaded.

   Why me?  I knew what she wanted.  But why me?  What was I, the
designated cherry picker?  I remembered how it had been with Missy, that
wonderful night we had kissed and made up after I'd been such a shit.  But
this was different!  This wasn't Missy, who I loved more than life itself.
This was a near stranger!

   It was a big dildo, too, and she was a slender youngster.

   But even as I thought that, I was moving, crawling to her.  I wanted to
see that mechanical cock buried in her juicing young pussy.  I wanted to
bring her off.

   I could smell her arousal, she was wet and ready.  I moved up close to
her, brushed the hair back out of her face.  "Are you sure?"

   She hesitated a fraction of a second, and nodded her head sharply. 
"Will it hurt much?" she asked fearfully at the same time.

   I shook my head.  "It'll only sting a bit."

   "I want it!  Oh, I want it!  I'm such a wuss!"

   "No," I countered.  " You're young.  You don't have to do this." We were
talking softly, but I knew the others could hear.

   "But I want to!  It feels so good, I want more.  Do you think it's too
big?"

   "No.  It's big, but not too big."

   "Three minutes down, two to go," Beth called out, and I just wished
she'd shut up!

   "Do it!" she ordered.  "Do it now, before I get too scared."

   "Lie back," I said, gripping the dildo threatening the gate to her
pussy, the buzz of the vibrator going right up my arm, "and hold my hand."

   She nodded tensely.  She was so uptight her cunt was probably as tight
as a her grip, so I leaned over and closed my lips over one of her lovely
swollen, russet nipples, sucking at it as I worked the dildo around at the
gate to her cunt.  She relaxed, surrendering to her arousal.

   I bit her tit, and, at the same time, slid the buzzing dildo in.  She
let out a little yelp, whether from my bite or her torn hymen, who could
tell?  Then she moaned, reaching, and I let her take over with the dildo,
moving back as she began sliding it in and out of her twat, angling it this
way and that.  She let go of me to grip it with both hands, working the
buzzing fake cock, stirring her quim like a butter churn.

   She whimpered, she moaned, she huffed, she puffed, her hips dancing, and
she proceeded to come, in full view of the whole room.

   She sang her orgasm.  That lovely little girl with her bikini tan, her
slender, immature hips twisting like a serpent's.  Her knees were bent, her
heels dug in, those skinny -- well, yeah, they were skinny -- those skinny
young legs were dancing to the vibrator's tune.

   I think she's a soprano.

   Some of the girls had their fingers in their mouths, while others had
them in their pussies, even Beth.  Lust is contagious.  Face it, I think
"sexually charged atmosphere" might be the term that applied here.

   I think the only two not riveted by Muriel's performance were Alice and
John.  They were totally engrossed in exploring the depths of each others'
mouths, just beginning some tactile expeditions to certain sensitive
anatomical regions.

   Gad, now I'm even talking like Beth!

   When Muriel came back to earth, Beth reminded her she was to choose the
next victim.  Letting go of the dildo, she extended her arm, pointing
blindly.  As the fake cock, stained with the evidence of her formerly
intact hymen, slowly slithered out of her pussy, she called out "Truth or
Dare."

   Esther gave a little start at being the target of Muriel's blind shot.
"Uh, Truth," she decided.

   "Are you a virgin?" Muriel asked, still sprawled in the middle of the
circle, slowly and sensuously stroking her naked torso, playing with her
still eager nipples, her legs writhing, her pussy pink and swollen.

   "Uhm -- as much as you are," she answered.

   "What's that supposed to mean?" Izzy asked.

   Esther blushed.  "I've never had a boy -- uh -- in me, but I have -- uh
-- stuck something in my pussy, and I bled a little bit."

   "Oh." Izzy subsided.

   Esther looked at Izzy.  "Truth or Dare, Izzy?"

   "Truth," Izzy answered.

   "Have you ever masturbated?" Esther asked.

   Izzy turned bright red, hugging her bunny closer.  "No," she confessed
defensively.

   "Maybe it's time you learned how," I put in.

   "But I...."

   "Have you touched yourself down there?" I asked.

   "Only when I wipe myself," she admitted reluctantly.

   "Come on over here," I invited.

   "You're not gonna make me a lesbian, are you?"

   I laughed.  "No.  Trust me, that's not the way it works.  Come sit in my
lap, your back toward me."

   She was a delightful little lap-full, I admit.  She was still clutching
her stuffed bunny.  "Let me borrow your hands.  What's his name?" I
whispered to her

   "She.  She's a girl.  Foofy."

   "Nice name.  How do you do, Foofy.  You can watch from here," I
responded just as softly.  I took Foofy from her, and set her so she was
looking up between Izzy's spread legs with her one button eye.

   Then I took Izzy's hands, and guided them over her delicate body.  "Feel
your little titties?"

   "Uh huh."

   "See how they stand up when you brush your fingers over them?  How does
that feel?"

   "Sorta tickles," she admitted.  "And it makes me tingle."

   "Pinch them a little."

   She "ooooooed."

   I guided her as we awakened her body, and she relaxed and snuggled back
against my chest, resting her head on my collar bone.  We could see our
reflection in the mirrors opposite us, her delicate body nestled against
me. Her hands in mine I guided her fingers all over her body, down to her
thighs, up to her crotch.  Using her fingers, I fiddled them between her
immature labia, guided them through her folds.

   She wasn't juicing, so I sucked her fingers myself, and moved them back
to her slit.  "Go ahead, feel yourself.  There's nothing dirty about it."

   That was all it took.  Letting go of her hands, I just cradled her back
against my chest as she began to squirm, and watched her fingers playing
around in her pussy.  She found her clit on her own, and mewed like a
kitten, looking up to me.  "Sensitive!" she exclaimed.

   "Your clit," I explained.  "Play with it, gently, however it feels
good."

   Her hips were moving, and I swear her bunny's single eye was focused
right on her crotch as the girl had her first, tentative, immature coming,
squeaking her pleasure.

   "Wow!" she sighed when she was done.

   "See what the big deal about sex is?" I asked.

   She laughed.  "I'm getting the idea."

   "I thought you would."

   "My turn," she pointed out as she freed herself from my lap, picking up
Foofy.  "Truth or Dare, Dee?"

   "Truth."

   "Are you a virgin?"

   "No," I admitted.

   "Told ya so," Barbara sniped.

   "Beth, Truth or Dare?" I asked.  Something about the way she was sitting
had caught my eye.  Or, maybe it was that she was the only one in the room
with real tits.  Or maybe it was something in the way she looked at me.

   She dimpled at me, obviously anticipating something delicious.  "Truth."


   Time to air things out a bit.  "Have you ever been gang banged?"

   Hah!  Gotcha, The Stick crowed exultantly.  You weren't expecting that
one, were you.

   "Uh." She hesitated.

   "What's a gang bang?" Izzy asked, resuming her place.

   "Getting fucked by a whole bunch of boys at once," Barbara explained. 
"Well, one at a time, or maybe two, but a bunch of them, taking turns."

   Izzy's eyes got big and she clutched her bunny tighter.

   Which would it be, the truth?  Or would I get to hit her with a dare?  I
was betting on "truth."

   "Yes," Beth admitted, turning pink, studying her hands.  "I have."

   Oh, there was so much more I wanted to ask her, but I couldn't! 
Questions like "who and how many?" and "did you enjoy it?" Damn!  I wanted
details.

   "Truth or Dare, Cynthia?" Beth asked before she got in any deeper.

   "Truth," Cynthia shot back.

   "Are you a virgin?"

   She hesitated.  "No," she admitted.  "But that doesn't mean anyone
should follow my lead.  You've got to remember, you're only a virgin once.
Once you've given it up you can't get it back.  It's a very special thing."


   Out of the mouths of babes.  She was what, maybe ten or eleven?  I had
my regrets, and Cynthia had hers.

   "John, Truth or Dare?" Cynthia asked.

   Uh oh, I thought.

   "Truth."

   "Are you a virgin?"

   "I -- no," he answered.  "Alice, Truth or Dare?"

   She was looking a little shaken at his revelation.  "Truth."

   "Are you a virgin?"

   She nodded shyly.  "Yes."

   Someone tittered, but was silenced by a look from Judy.

   Alice was licking at the icing on John's chest, until she was reminded
to move the game along.  "Judy, Truth or Dare."

   "Truth."

   "Are you a virgin?"

   "Yes." Judy looked at me with those exotic dark eyes -- we were just
about opposite each other in the circle.

   "Dee, Truth or Dare?"

   The Stick made me do it.  Blame The Stick.  I'd seen the wicked
challenge in Judy's look as she'd fondled the butt plug before the game had
begun.

   "Dare," I answered.