Then, I felt my mouth say "Truth or dare." What I heard it say was "TTTRRRth, dRRTTEE" I cleared my throat and relaxed for a moment. Then I managed, "...Truth or dare?"My mother's laugh was embarrassing as she found humor in my discomfort. "Truth." She said. I decided to end this game here and now. "Mom, how far did Uncle Bill get with you, how often when and where." My dad in a drunken stupor told me how he suspected mom of cheating on him with Uncle Bill. I was sure I would win the game because. ”“Not at all,” I said, smiling back. “Actually, I was just wondering when we’d have a chance to, you know, follow it up.”Her hand was still on my knee. Without wasting any time, she slid her fingers around and caressed the smooth skin at the back of my knee, then slowly slid them up the underside of my thigh, squeezing the warm firm flesh. I shivered slightly at her touch. Her hand moved up to the top of my thigh and stroked under the hem of my short skirt. A little tremor of desire ran through. I love picking up guys, and the occasional girl. But it was a conservative crowd in a really old fashioned town, where I knew people, so I restrained myself. I usually did that at the other bar. Far enough from where I lived. It's so hard being a floozy in a such a place.As fortune would have it, we did get quite a few tourists at times, most of whom spoke English, and quite a few which spoke Russian in fact, which I also know. Some coming through on their way to a family resort, but there were. Because it was already open it barely lasted the day, but that was all right because she received a new one each morning. At first the roses we anonymous, but soon they started coming with a small card attached. Each little note spoke of how beautiful her secret admirer thought she was, but there was still no identification. One day in addition to the comparison of the roses beauty to that of Amy’s, there was an email address, ti_amo_molto at some anonymous email service. Her roommate, Val.