Truth Or Dare Turns Into Gay Sex 1

"Aiight, aiight. New game."

Fredro watched Sticky suck another tight breath of weed, blowing out a lazy breath. The smoke drifted, adding to the heavy stink of the cramped lounge. It was dim, lit only by the glow of the tv, the low light of a short lamp. The dimness, the heavy smell, and closeness of the lounge was comfortable.

"Check dis." Sticky propped himself up onto his elbow on the messed bed. Fredro took the offered blunt, passing the bottle in exchange. "Truth or dare. Yo know it?"

Fredro nodded.

"You say truth or dare," Sticky explained, upright on the bed, bottle propped between his legs like a phalic object. "Truth, yo get axed a question an' yo aint allowed to lie. Dare, you gotta do whatever da other nigga says. Aiight?"

"Yeah, aiight."

Fredro puffed a short breath, watching Sticky from the only seat in the lounge. "Yo aint allowed to lie, aiight?"

"Yeah," Fredro managed a tight grin. "I heard da rules nigga..."

"Aiight, well, cause Im phat like dat, Ima let yo go first." The stockier black took the blunt back from his friend. "I choose truth."

Fredro paused. "Any question?"

"Yeah. Any question."

"Aiight..."

Fredro paused in thought for a moment, eying his friend on the bed across from where he sat. It wasnt cold in the small flat, but Sticky was still dressed in his urban styles; oversized black jeans, fatigue shirt and padded black vest. A black woollen beanie completed his look, pulled tight over his bald head.

"Aiight. Yo know that tape of Sonee's yo lost. What really happened to it?"

Sticky grinned slightly, flicking blunt ash. He muttered slightly, glancing back up at Fredro. "It got fucked up in the deck. But yo know I wasnt gonna tell him dat."

Fredro smiled back, nodding. "Yeah I KNEW that! Had to be that, man!"

"Yo KNOW it was his fav. I wasnt gonna tell him I stuffed dat shit up." Sticky stared at the dull glow of the blunt. "Aiight, what yo choosin'? Truth or dare?"

"Truth." Fredro gave him a short nod. Dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt, and baggy jeans he didnt look too far amiss from his stocky friend. Sticky pondered slightly.

"Ever swiped money from yo moms?"

"Nah."

Sticky gave him a grin, sucking on the blunt again. "Yo spose to answer da truth, nigga."

"Yo, it IS." Fredro replied back, more forcably. His stockier friend looked doubting.

"Sheeet. Yo aint never? Damn." Sticky chuckled. "Ok, truth."

Fredro gave it some thought, leaning back in the chair, both hands on to top of the bottle. "Damn I dunno....this game is shit."

"Cmon, nigga! Anything."

Fredro stared across the dim lounge. After a moment, he shot a question. "You ever stolen from Joes?"

Sticky almost blanched, giving the shorter Fredro a shove. "Ah sheeet nigga! Yo already KNOW da answer to dat. Gimme a real damn question."

"You didnt say it had to be one you didnt know da answer to. Go. Truth."

Sticky shook his head, disappointed and muttering. "Aiight. Cheap mahfucka.....Im gonna up these stakes nigga. Check dis. Yo a virgin?"

Fredros eyes bugged a little. "What?!"

"Yo heard me bitch. Yo a virgin?" Sticky asked as Fredro stuttered a little, rubbing his hand over his bald dome. "Well, yo axin' dumb questions yo already know da answers to. SOMEONE gotta axe sumpin' decent."

Fredro sucked at his full lower lip, his face set. Sticky shoved him again.

"Answer up, nigga."

Fredro shot back a hard look. His light skinned face, high cheekbones and thick lips never looked more intimidating. A slight sheen had already gathered on his dome as he sucked up the courage to admit.

"Yeah."

Sticky grinned widely, puffing out another billow of smoke. "What? I didnt hear yo nigga."

"Yeah. Im a fuckin' virgin."

"See. Now you got da game correct. Truth."

Fredros face was still hard. He felt the sudden threat, of having his secrets revealed, one by one. He could feel a nervious sweat gathering under his heavy black sweatshirt. The short brothers mind flouded with possible questions, anything to get back at Stickys embarrising question. The virgin question in his case had already been more than answered.

"How big is your dick?"

Even asking the question flushed Fredro a little. He felt the sudden heat of having asked the question of his close friend. Covering his own embarrisement, he downed another swig of alcohol, feeling the warmth draw a heaty sweat under his hoody.

"Soft or stiff?" Sticky grinned, grabbing a fistful of his baggy groin. Fredro still felt the pain of his exposure, biting back quickly.

"Stiff motherfucka...."

Sticky breathed smoke, the billow misting the air lazily. "Eight inches."

Fredro gave an annoyed glance. Moreso from the stocky blacks seemingly cool responce. His glance dropped ever so slightly as the answer sunk in. Sticky leaned back on the bed, propping himself on his elbows, passing the blunt back Fredros way. Fredro took it up, feeling like the loaded gun had been turned back on him.

"Truth."

Sticky pondered a second as Fredro past the bottle. The shorter black leaned forward on his elbows, glancing again, his eyes dropping away just as quickly. He prepared himself for the next question. The next humiliation he thought, still stinging from the virgin question. At least he knew the terms of the game now.

"How many times a day yo jack off, nigga?"

Fredro gave a calculated responce. "Three times. Maybe four." He quickly shot back. "How many times you do it?"

The stocky black chuckled. "Yo, I didnt say truth or dare."

"Well, then?" Fredros face twisted in his usual annoyance. Sticky drew it out, gulping from the bottle.

"Truth."

"Answer da question then, nigga. How many times you jack off a day?"

"Three or four. Like yo. Depends how horny I get fo' it." Sticky took another gulp. Fredro knocked a little ash off the blunt, not smoking, still sweating from the questions. The loaded gun was back on him again.

"Truth."

"Yo ever tasted yo own cum?"

Fredro froze. His cuss wasnt audible, but it was there. His light skinned face was hard, his thick lips pursed in a tight grimace. He glanced away from his interrogating friend, staring onto the darker side of the small lounge. Under his sweatshirt, he felt like he was burning up. The room felt way too hot.

"Yeah."

Sticky stayed thankfully silent, Fredro feeling the flush in his lean cheeks. He felt like he had wasted his chance at get back on the last round by shooting back Stickys question. The short black sucked back heavily on the blunt, adding to the rooms slight haze.

"Aiight, nigga. Truth."

"You ever messed around with a guy?"

Fredro glanced up, not expecting the slight stumble from Sticky. "Nah." The stocky youth came back stronger, with a half laugh. "Fuck off, nigga. I aint screwed round wit' no niggas."

"Straight up?"

"Yeah. What da fuck is this game, huh? Lie or dare?" Sticky smoothed the answer out, bolting back a mouthful of alcohol. "I aint lyin'. I aint never messed wit' a guy."

Score one for the good guys, Fredro thought, almost smiling. The gun turned back on him again, almost like some strange russian roulette of dark, deep secrets. The gun had finally gone off on Sticky that round. Fredro leaned back into the seat, tugging at his sagging jeans a little. He tried a different tack.

"Dare."

"I dare yo to take off yo shirt."

Fredro was taken aback a little but the quickness of the dare. Even the nature of the dare. He shot it back quickly.

"I will if you take off yours too."

"Aiight."

Fredro paused slightly, but Sticky was already shrugging back his padded vest, slipping it off his arms. Fredro followed suit, dragging his heavy sweatshirt up off his chest. He paused slightly, not even knowing why, even though he was a little shy at baring his chest to his friend. Sticky had seen his naked torso a fair few times, but Fredros shy nature was still there. He waited until Sticky had tossed aside his vest and started unbuttoning his fatigue shirt before taking his own baggy white tshirt off.

The short black dropped the shirt down the side of the seat. He shuffled a little, sitting back, then leaning forward as he tried to cover himself as best he could without making it look obvious. Sticky was still undoing his shirt, slowly revealing a stocky chest with each button. Fredro found himself looking a little, puffing on the blunt as Sticky finished, pulling the shirt back off stocky arms. Fredro tried not to stare, taking in Stickys light skinned chest in slight glances.

Fredro felt the silence. The heat. Sticky gave him a lingering glance that he could almost feel. The light skinned black wasnt as big as Sticky on build, but in his early 20s, he was still carrying the athletic build of a teenhood on the streets. Fredro felt his sweat drying a little, at least slightly relieved at the change in temperature stripping off gave. Even if Stickys gaze was a little uncomfortable in its place.

Become a Patreon to support Taletopia!

The story continues in

written by wildstyle