Disappointment

I should be a little disappointed, but that just wouldn’t be reasonable.

Saturday night Dee left me for a “girl’s night” out, and I sent her on her way with a dare: take a camera with you, and return to me on Sunday with at least two pictures, a picture of her tits, taken by someone else, and a picture of someone else’s tits, taken by Dee herself. They were going out drinking (and by later accounts, several of them got quite toasty), dancing, and spending the night somewhere afterwards, so I left it up to Dee to decide (based on circumstances, etc.) how risqué, revealing, daring, and naughty the pictures got.

This would seem to be an easy dare… especially since Dee ended up spending the night in a hotel room with a woman she’d previously expressed an interest in enjoying… without her bag (and therefore without her pajamas!). Talk about your perfect opportunity, not only to accomplish the dare, but perhaps to do far more than that!

And yet, Dee returned home with a few random snapshots of herself and her friends’ low cut necklines, showing some cleavage, but not much more than you’d see while attending your average wedding. In fact, Dee’s wedding dress showed off more than the picture her friends took of her!

I should be a little disappointed, but that really wouldn’t be fair.

In all honesty, I have to admit that, subject to a comparable dare on a “guy’s night out” (that is, taking a photo of another guy, and vice versa), I definitely wouldn’t be taking photos of anyone’s equipment, or posing for pictures myself.

Even if I were given the obvious, abbreviated dare (get a picture of someone else’s tits), it’s highly likely I’d never even get the cleavage shots, let alone anything more daring. I don’t know any guys that are likely to be willing to serve as my wingman in the pursuit of such a dare, let alone be proficient at the task. Given most of their wives’ opinions on the matter, a few drinks in a sports bar is about as far as they’ll go.

My first choice for a wingman, be it a bar or a strip club or wherever, would be Dee. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, though. After all… pajama-less, drunk, in a hotel room… and she’s texting me and watching Three’s Company… what kind of a wingman is THAT?

On the other hand… pajama-less, drunk, in a hotel room… and she’d rather text me than do anything else. I guess I don’t mind that at all. :)