Dylan’s turn

Dylan sat frozen for a long moment, the wet sounds of Brian and Katie’s ongoing make-out session filling the room. His hand was still under her shirt, openly groping and massaging her breast while she kissed him back more eagerly than before. Her earlier protests had faded into soft, reluctant moans.

Chloe finally turned toward you with a sharp grin.

“Alright, Dylan. Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Every pair of eyes in the room swung to you. Brian paused long enough to smirk over Katie’s shoulder, still keeping his hand firmly on her chest. Katie’s hazel eyes met yours for a split second—flushed, conflicted, almost pleading—before Brian pulled her back into another deep kiss.

You swallowed hard. Choosing truth felt safer. Maybe you could dig into something that would expose the setup or at least buy time.

“Truth,” you said, voice tighter than you wanted.

Chloe’s smile widened like she’d been hoping for that exact answer.

“Truth it is. Be honest, Dylan… how does it feel watching your wife make out with another man—especially the guy who used to bully you in high school? And while you’re answering, Brian gets to keep doing exactly what he’s doing.”

A few people chuckled. Mark leaned forward, clearly enjoying the moment.

You felt heat rise in your face. The truth was ugly, and they all knew it.

“It… it feels wrong,” you started, forcing the words out. “She’s my wife. We just got married a year and a half ago. This isn’t some high-school party. She shouldn’t be—”

Brian cut you off with a loud laugh, still groping Katie under her top. “That’s not answering the question, dorky Dylan. How does it feel? Does it make you mad? Jealous? Or maybe a little turned on watching your hot wife get felt up?”

Katie made a small muffled sound against his mouth, her hands still resting on his chest instead of pushing him away.

You clenched your jaw. “It makes me sick. And angry. She’s not some prize for you to claim just because you threw a party.”

Chloe tilted her head, unimpressed. “Boring answer. But fine, you answered. Now it’s time to keep the game moving.”

She turned back toward the girls’ side. “Katie, since you’re still busy… truth or dare?”

Brian finally pulled his tongue out of her mouth long enough for her to answer, though his hand never left her breast. Katie’s lips were swollen, her breathing uneven. She glanced at you again, then at the expectant faces around the room.

“Dare,” she said quietly, almost resigned.

Chloe’s eyes lit up. “Perfect. I dare you to unbutton your jeans and let Brian slide his hand down the front of them for the next full round. No stopping him. And you keep kissing him the whole time.”

Your stomach dropped.

“Hey—no,” you said, starting to rise again. “That’s way past—”

Brian spoke over you without even looking your way. “A dare’s a dare, bud. You already had your turn. Sit down.”

Several voices joined in, repeating the same phrase until the pressure in the room felt physical. Katie hesitated, cheeks burning, but the chant and the weight of every stare wore her down. With trembling fingers she reached for the button of her jeans and undid it, then slowly lowered the zipper.

Brian didn’t wait. His large hand slipped past the open waistband, sliding down over her panties. Katie gasped against his mouth as his fingers pressed between her legs. You could see the outline of his hand moving under the fabric of her jeans.

She tried to keep her eyes closed, but a soft, involuntary sound escaped her throat. Brian kissed her harder, clearly pleased with the reaction.

Chloe clapped once. “Nice. Keep going, everyone. Don’t let them stop.”

Mark leaned toward you with a nasty grin. “Your turn’s over, Dylan. Hope you enjoyed the truth. Looks like your wife’s about to enjoy her dare a lot more.”

Brian’s hand kept working slowly between Katie’s legs while he made out with her in full view of the room. Her hips shifted once—just a small, almost reluctant movement—and you felt the night tilt further out of your control.