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A small moment of awkwardness broke the drive, each fumbling with the belt of the other, followed by shy giggles as they both took a second to look deep into dilated eyes, seeking permission perhaps. The answers were simultaneous, a rejoining of mouths, fervour increased as tongues matched hands in seeking intimate places. The freedom afforded to his hand by the loosening of her belt allowed him to push his hand deeper, into the valley of her groin, palm on her thigh but the merest touch of skin on engorged pubis. Her hands, given freedom by his actions pushed under the coarse material of his jeans and began a search of their own, travelling over his thigh, outside to in, always the hint of more erotic contact but both wanting to extend the anticipation. His will broke, his hand slowly but decisively eased towards the mound which marked his target, fingers warm and strong, confident in their approach. She allowed her legs to part, all thoughts of caution gone, all doubts and. "If you insist calling me that, truth," he told me. "How old were you when you first viewed porn?" I wanted to know. "Sixteen, on a VHS. If you have no idea what that is, try consulting Wikipedia," he suggested. Truths went on for twenty minutes, and then a dare broke out. "I dare you to show me your internet search history on your laptop," I said, looking at his laptop. "What, do you think I watch porn online?" he pondered. "Yes, just not those video tapes anymore. Unless you are too embarrassed," I replied. His laptop opened, and his internet browser popped up. He brought it down, and all the sites could be seen. Sure enough, a couple porn sites were there. "Oh, chick on chick? My last boyfriend loved to masturbate to that. Unfortunately, I wasn't needed after a while," I confessed. "Sorry to hear about that. Truth or dare?" he enquired. "Truth," I told him. "Did you watch me masturbate?" he wanted to know. My face turned redder than an apple, while my blood stopped flowing for a.
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