Everyone in this story is 18+ young lust turned to love overnight.
Spin the bottle or truth and dare.
Book 1
My German granny told me once about a game where you spin the bottle or (Flaschendrehen in German) on the floor and who it points to; you took the girl in the closet, and you did something called Spoonin. So I looked it up; it's called kissing in today's world of 2018. Mom told me about that game they played with spin the bottle, but the spinner could tell the 'spinee' to do a truth or a dare a lot more than kissing, but it could be just kissing.
The party was Saturday night since being back in public school in the States again six months after five years of homeschooling in Germany. It was a keg party for the seniors; it was at someone's house whose parent's were out of town. I bet good money that I was only asked to come to be the brunt of jokes and lots of pranks. I did not look like the school kids; they all looked and acted so young.
My Mom pulled me out of public school in Texas near Waco because I was hazed and bullied at school to the point of having both my arms broken, but that's a long story from hell that we are not talking about tonight. My Dad died seven years earlier in a car wreck with an eighteen-wheeler. That lawsuit left enough money for Mom not to have to work. That was seven years ago now. I'm two years older than my class, but if life was fair and I was still in Germany, I would be in my first year in college now. Or I could take my GED here, but the school board refuses to let me take it. So I would be in my first year of college and not have to deal with children. I had never felt so alone or out of place.
I'm a throwback, the runt of the litter. I was born thirty days to early with a cleft pallet and Hypospadias, its two pee holes. Only one works; it sounds weirder than it looks. My grades are a mix of me being a little smart and my Mom pushing my learning into overdrive five years of learning eight hours a day without the distractions of girls or school. I went all year long, but no bullies worked for me. Mom made me learn to dance for balance and it helped in socializing. I had to play rugby or soccer and take fighting classes from Tie Chi to MMA and boxing because boxing teaches you how to measure yourself and your opponent.
You have minutes to learn or hurt my, Mom; let me get a tattoo if I mastered or belted in a fighting style. I put my tat's under my clothes except for my 'Mom has my heart in heaven'.
It's on my bicep; you can see it when I wearing a tee. We had a mixed learning schedule during those five years some days, we went to college, and my Mom and I audited the classes. Often the professor would see my hot Mom, and then between classes, I asked questions to fill in the picture of the idea of the class. Then, Mom would test me a week later with a pop quiz.
We went to a bakery, and I had to identify the name of what was in it, and it was a great-tasting chemistry class. Mom did another lesson on treating people; we went to a retirement home and did whatever was needed. She taught me how to read people and sent me to people to learn how to fight and kiss an odd mix, but being well-rounded was better than knowing only one thing.
Now all that is behind me now; being back in the states for six months. I am amazed that most of the guys and girls here are caught up in the next new thing; they never get any confidence in anything they do by trying only one thing.
South Texas football is essential, but it's played chiefly by poorly led players; some have skills, and some need to improve. One of my martial art teachers could coach them better. They learn not what they need for now but what will last them forever. I stood six foot two with blue eyes and medium-length reddish brown hair that goes lightly blond in the sun. Often my hair is dyed colors or spiked with hair product. I usually have a five o'clock shadow cause I need to shave everyday but don't. I have been shaving for a year now. I have one pierced ear. I wear my Moms diamond stud earring; she let me wear it when I turned sixteen. I had to ace my test, and I did.
My weight was one hundred and eighty pounds, and my fitness was outstanding. The joke of a coach trying to get me to play football, no thanks. The girls all giggled when I showed up at the party in nice boots, a sexy shirt, nice slacks, with a clean shave. I smelled nice; it was a gift from my Aunt. My hair was spiked and dyed colors; my Aunt did my hair it looked sharp.
I was in a mixed mood hoping for a fight with a guy or a kiss with a hot girl either one might make my lonely night easier. But I needed to give my Aunt space to be her; it was her date night.
I saw one of the girls who asked me to the party; she came over says. "Hello, weird hair, your hair, no one wears it like that." You gave me an open beer and walked off.
I thanked you as she left and put the drink down, seeing something bubble in the bottom of the beer, or it was just the beer. I found an unopened bottle of better beer, and I unscrewed the beer and took a drink. My Mom let me drink beer since I was sixteen, but you only drink unopen beverages at a party if you know the person well. Mom taught me this in Sex Education Class.
I see the girls over in the corner giggling. It was about me. I was not taking any bets on what would happen next. Then the hot girls started playing rock paper scissors, and the Girl who asked me she had lost approached me and started talking to me. She was tall, six foot; her youth still showed a touch of baby fat in your face, but the rest, one hundred and thirty pounds, almost an hourglass figure of 38C- 36- 35, was outstanding. Your red hair and green eyes would kill an ordinary man, but my Mom was a redhead with green eyes, so it reminds me a little of her.
I knew she had lost the bet, but we talked for half an hour, it was fun. I could read her; she was in on the joke, but her heart was not. Finally, after a few minutes, she finally laughed and touched my arm near my wrist. Occasionally, I sensed you wanted to touch me to see if I had muscles.
I glanced but did not see the girls, I say. "I'm Dan. I don't know what your game was, but it won't be a game I don't play because I don't need to. Are your girls watching?"
You look around and nod no and say. "I'm Ginger." I take your hand so soft and warm, place it on my bicep, and say. "My legs are twice that squeeze my arm, Ginger."
You did, and I made a fist; it popped your hand off me. Your eyes got wide and say. "We were going to play truth or dare and kiss you, and your bad at it like all nerds and make fun of... Shit, your not a nerd, are you?"
You held your hand over your mouth as I took your other hand and kissed it; my lips and tongue tip played on your skin near your knuckles. You moaned, and goosebumps covered you. We talked about many things after that. My beer was done, and riding my Honda motorcycle over, I would not have another. Ginger sipped hers; at that rate, her beer would still be left in the morning. Finally, someone called out, let's play Truth or Dare, and a beer bottle was placed in the center of the room on a plate on the floor, and someone spun it.
Ginger says. "No, please, no, let's not. Don't go, please."