As a teenager, all David Amsden knew of
sex was “a white flash, a scene from a movie, a mirage.
Sex was Sharon Stone's parted thighs and flaxen smudge of pubic hair, paused on
the television screen. Sex was Demi Moore and Woody Harrelson, Demi Moore and
Michael Douglas, Demi Moore stripping on stage. Sex was me superimposing myself
into these scenes while pretending — somewhat pathetically, I know — that these
were the phantom women whom I loved, and who
loved me back.”
That is, until the first time he watched
people actually having sex, the eroticism all the stranger since they were his
close friends, and just a few minutes before he’d been in the bed with them…
We
all play Truth or Dare
a handful of times during adolescence, and for the same reason: a means of
saying "let's fuck around" without having to say "let's fuck
around." But while other kids used the game to initiate some earnest
French kissing and, maybe, to catch a brief flash of bare ass or nipple, we
elevated it, I'd like to think, into the realm of high art. The Truth component
was eliminated. This was key. Ours was a game of undiluted Dare, forcing the
Truth behind our intentions that
much closer to the surface. We recognized, at least subconsciously, that all
teenagers are amateur submissives, eager to have their vulnerability exposed
and exploited. As a result, our dares were both creative and explicit. Some
highlights from past sessions: mutual masturbation, boys kissing boys, girls
handcuffing boys to trees, and, like a scene straight from one of those Primetime Live pseudo-exposés, one
girl going down on two boys at the same time.
Do you dare? Indulge your inner voyeur
here.
