Dare: Winter/Spring 1999 Volume 1, No. 1

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Index

• Editorial
• Needs & Wants
• Tell It
• Like It
• Is Chick Stuff
• Guy Speak

Editorial

DareI Speak My Peace...
by R. M. Schmitt

As Dare's Editor my first thought is to say "Welcome" to all of you who take the time to stop by our little corner of cyberspace, I hope you'll find your visit entertaining, enjoyable, diversionary, or that we succeed in satisfying whatever urge it is that brought you to us in the first place...

Now it seems only appropriate, as this is our inaugural issue, that I say a few words about the magazine itself. Dare's moniker states: A magazine for the 21^st century woman - and yes - that is our aim, our intent. But what is the 21^st century woman? Or rather, what is Dare's perception of the 21^st century women? That is actually an easier question to answer and I'll answer it this way: For those of you who know what you want out of life, from men, from women, from your hearts, your minds, your selves - Dare aims to be your forum, your sounding board, your recreation, your "push" when you feel you need pushing. And it is the push that is actually the pivot point here - Dare's push comes from two things, taking risks and returning to basics. Ah yes, there's nothing better than a good paradox...

Perhaps the biggest paradox on the horizon is the approaching millennium. True, we are closing in on the turn of the century, and while "we've come a long way baby" - women continue to be bombarded by society's continuing retinue of conflicting messages - thin is in, fat is all that, be sexy, be demure, burn your bra, be Barbie - buy fake boobs, be perfect, be natural, have a career, stay at home, raise your kids, let someone else do it, be promiscuous, be a prude - the list is endless and ever changing. This is where the risk taking comes in - you must define who you are and who you want to be. Sometimes what you want is going to go against the grain - sometimes you'll find yourself going with it. No matter the path you choose - it is your choice and yours alone. But that doesn't mean that you don't need or want a little help along the way, or maybe just some acknowledgment and understanding as you wrestle with life's choices. Life is what we make of it and when it all just seems a little too overwhelming, that's when it's time to remember that it doesn't have to be tough, that it doesn't have to be complicated, that really what it all boils down to is quite basic.

The basics are this: The way Dare sees it, nothing much has changed - our societal values and beliefs may fluctuate over time, but the basic instincts, responses, drives and motivations of people - of men and women - remain the same - and no one can truly argue that. We are creatures of needs, wants, and desires - things sexual, instinctual, and even cerebral. But, whether you tout the moral majority or the bra-burning 60's, or pick your battles somewhere in between - when it comes to matters of the flesh - in the end our hearts and bodies rule our heads, it just may take some folks longer to realize or accept that than others.

So that's where we stand, it's all about taking risks and returning to basics. And, that's precisely where Dare aims to travel and in this quarter's issue you'll find some writer's who do precisely that. Cari Eden will walk you through her "leap of faith" in Tell It Like It Is and in the Needs & Wants section, Carol Anne describes what amounts to a discourse on pure "basic instinct." Paul Miller provides a tongue-in-cheek interrogative in Guy Speak and you'll find a selection of stories in our Erotica section that will make you sweat and swoon all in good order. There's also much more to keep you occupied in Dare's first issue. Again, my gratitude for stopping by and I trust we'll see you again soon.

R. M. Schmitt
Dare Editrix

Needs & Wants

Maintenance
by Carol Anne

Have you ever been so attracted to someone but never really talked to them? Never had this person in your life, but the fire, the chemistry, the sizzle that goes on between the two of you is so undeniable that you just can't fight it? Well, sometimes, it's better to just go with that fire and sizzle and forget the fight. After all, when it comes down to it, about the only thing that can be said about an attraction of this kind, is that it just might be "bigger than the both of us." I'm going to tell you a little story to illustrate my point...

I had seen him several times before, walking around our apartment complex. So, I'm not quite sure why he seemed to mesmerize me so much on this particular day. When I had noticed him before I had never let my fantasies get out of control. But for whatever reason, could be that it was a beautiful day in sunny Southern California, or that the gates were in desperate need of a fresh coat of white paint - who can say - but on this day something just clicked. Previously our interaction had consisted of polite "Hellos" and casual "Nice weather we're having, eh?" exchanges, but there was just something about him that awakened that primal something inside of me. When I saw him that day, I checked my look in car mirror just to make sure everything was put together before I made my "entrance" onto the scene. The seductress in me was coming to life - something I wasn't aware that I could do but the walk, the talk, the look, it was all there and I knew it was paying off. We did the polite "Hellos" - one more time and I sauntered into my apartment, leaving him wanting something more. He stood there looking at my apartment door for probably five minutes after I had walked inside. As I was changing out of my work clothes and into something more comfortable, I was desperately looking around for anything that needed fixing. Nothing! There was absolutely nothing in my apartment that needed fixing. But I wasn't to be put off so easily, and so I took one of the fluorescent lights out of the bathroom fixture. "There!" I thought, "this light isn't working properly!"

Sure enough, not long after I put the call into the apartment office, I had a dashing maintenance man at my door. "Yes!" I thought. I did my best to act nonchalant and flippant about the whole "fix-it" thing. He would stop ever so often to take a gander back at me knowing I was fixed on him. He had a T-shirt on but I could still make out his smashing biceps just screaming to be released. Finally, he "found" the problem. As he was climbing up onto the countertop to fix the light fixture, I was thanking God for making such a beautiful specimen. As luck would have it, now that he was on the counter he needed my help in handing him some tools. He reached back for a new light and grabbed my hand at the same instant. Time stood still for just a few seconds and then that primal urge I'd been feeling for weeks consumed us both. In an instant, he was off the counter and in front of me.

I could feel his hand grab onto my waist and pull me to him. I had this shaky feeling and hot flash all in the same instant. He looked into my eyes for just a moment as though he was drinking in the entire scene before embarking on what he really wanted me next. I felt my knees begin to go out from under me when he leaned down and put his lips to mine. He had the softest, sweetest kiss. Light, at first, like he was mapping out the area of my lips and then, I felt that sensation of his tongue moving into that hollow area of the center of my lips. My hands roamed to his well built chest. I could feel those pectoral muscles under my fingers. I couldn't help myself. I had to feel those muscles and his skin under my fingers - his shirt had to go. His skin was so very soft and warm and feeling that chest was like feeling a bit of heaven. It was almost like I had given him the cue he was looking for when the shirt came off. His kiss got hungry and more animal like. His hands went to my face. I could feel his fingers running through my hair, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. My hands roamed to his back. I couldn't help but dig my nails into his back as he moved closer to me. I could feel his weight crushing into me. His hands made their way to my back and toward my ass. He was grabbing and caressing and grabbing some more. I could feel his hands around my hips and then I felt his fingers touching the skin around my waist. Soon my shirt was up and off. His arms moved quickly around me and I loved the way his strong muscular arms encircled me. I loved the way his skin felt next to mine - so hot, so inviting. He continued to kiss my lips, my cheek, my ear, my neck. It was only natural that my hands moved toward his tight, muscular butt. I could fill him clinch and squeeze those already tight cheeks once my hands roamed to that area. I found myself moving into his body and having him support my weight as well as his. He was kissing my shoulder but I could hear that his breathing was becoming harder and more labored. As my hands moved toward the button on his shorts, a slight gasp escaped him as the button came undone and the zipper eagerly made its way down. In a matter of seconds, he moved me from the wall that we had been perched against to the nearby bed that was still unmade from the day before. I could feel him through those the confines of his shorts.

Who the hell needs foreplay when you've got pent-up, uncontrollable passion like this! I pushed him off of me onto his back. I stepped off the bed and in front of him, removed the rest of my clothing and revealed my naked body. Just as quickly, I relieved him of his restricting shorts. I could not believe me eyes. The most beautiful, inviting man I had ever seen was now laying naked on my bed. I was frozen. I suddenly felt like a complete school girl, unsure of what to do next. He took over from there, sat up and pulled me toward him taking my breasts into his capable hands, cupping them, kissing them, caressing them. He pulled me down on top of him. As I felt him enter me, he was gently kissing the hollow of my neck and the moan that I had been keeping locked up inside of me all that time, finally escaped. Our bodies moved together in perfect rhythm as though it were a dance that only we were to perform. We both knew the tempo and the pattern. As he exploded inside of me, my body grew more tense and rigid, almost as though it was trying desperately to hold him in place so he could not escape. He groaned and moved more aggressively, trying to get even more penetration. As his hips moved forward into mine, I felt the most exquisite sensation course through my body. My toes were tingling, my arms were shaking, every part of my body was sensitive to his touch, to his kiss, to his thrusts. I thought "I could die right now and feel like I have been fulfilled." It was the most wondrous sensation. Afterwards, he laid there with me for a few minutes, kissing my neck and my back, rubbing his fingers up and down the curves of my body. And then, with a sweet, gentle kiss - he got up, looked at me and said: "I'll be back to 'fix' the light tomorrow, if that's ok!"

Carol Anne is an eternal optimist when it comes to “doing the right thing” - in terms of the infamous manhunt. She lives in Napa Valley, California, where the wine flows freely and the sunshine is eternal. She is single and loves living life to its fullest – no matter where that endeavor may take her. This was her first column forDare.

Tell It like It Is

Love Bytes
by Cari Eden

Shakespeare's fair Beatrice proclaimed that she would not marry "until man is made from some other metal than earth." Was Beatrice truly insightful enough to see that love goes beyond the boundaries of the body? Hopeless romantic that I am, I always dreamed of meeting a man like that - one "made from some other metal" - I just never imagined that when it happened it would be plastic and silicon; a few thousand bytes of information downloaded into my computer that would bring me closer to a man 11,000 miles away than any man I'd ever touched in the physical world.

David and I were sown together by the threads of destiny. Or in more modern terms, linked together by fiber optics and a 56K modem. I was interested in traveling to Australia for business purposes, but I had always dreamed of traveling "down under" as far back as I can remember. There were definitely romantic motives. I had been married before and been in several relationships looking for love when, all along, I should have been looking for my "self." After finally graduating to become a member of the race of Self-Loving Responsible Human Beings I made a subconscious decision to at last have a healthy relationship. So one evening I sat down and thought hard about the next man I wanted in my life - if at all. I had a mental image of him down to the last detail - his face, his work, his body, his education - everything. Obviously, the conventional methods of meeting a man held no water with me. Did I really believe that the man of my dreams would be sitting in a restaurant or singles bar somewhere in Jacksonville, Florida? It would be difficult enough in that arena to simply find a guy who's name wasn't "Bubba." So, the logical thing to do was to take my search into cyberspace. I literally searched the world to find a man like David.

It began with my search for a friend in Australia through the multitude of Internet personal pages. David's ad read, "Still looking but having fun anyway." Now that said a lot to me. It said that this is a man who is either clever enough to know that his ad was just casual enough to make him not appear needy. and just alluring enough to attract a woman who knows the difference, or he was just being honest. Either way I couldn't lose. So I pulled up his photo. Wow! Here before me was a great looking Aussie who grew up in the Outback. That was enough right there for me to catch the next flight out. But as I read on I found that he was much, much, more. He was divorced and sole caregiver to his two children. Already he and I had a special bond as I am also a single parent of two children. O.k., good but not earth shattering, right? The point is that I was looking for a man in a part of the world where I had always dreamed of going. I had an image in my mind of the features and character traits that I considered attractive. As I read on I found that more and more of this man met the requirements I had set for myself - requirements that were intended to determine if I were ever to have another man in my life. I knew what I was worth now and I knew what I deserved. The cyber-stage had been set and the man of my dreams was waiting for me to respond. So I did. I wrote telling him of my interest in Australia and my forthcoming business ventures dealing in cultural art and asked if he might know how I could find aboriginal art. These were all completely legitimate inquiries but I must admit there were ulterior motives. Before responding to my letter he was able to see my profile and photograph as well. This was a great way for him to "bow out" on the chance he didn't find me attractive. He asked later if my intentions were strictly business or pleasure and that he was hoping for the latter. What happened in the following months was an incredible exchange of thoughts and ideas; an outpouring of the souls between two people on opposite ends of the planet. We shared everything. I can't say there was no fear or doubt whatsoever. But nothing could sway us from the inevitable. I had already been planning a trip to Australia. The next logical step was to meet the man of my dreams on a side trip. Well, I leave on the 3rd of June, call it a leap of faith - so wish me luck. No, I haven't met him yet. But, this makes things all the more interesting and now you have to read the follow up to see what happens.

At the same time technology has taken mankind forward into a non-physical mode of relating it has also taken us back to the age of romance. The movie, "You've Got Mail" addresses the issue of computer love. Two people, who aren't aware of the fact that they already know each other on the earthly plane, find each other in a chat room and develop a relationship. Despite being bitter enemies in the physical world they proceed to virtually fall in love. With what and with whom are they falling in love? Ideas? Passions? Humor? An incredible thing happens when two people correspond in writing. The brain is unhindered by the bodies automatic social responses that occur when people communicate face to face. There is just the mind working to be understood in a pure realm of communication. But there is more to it than that. When we are in a physical relationship with someone and the physical attraction is strong, it overpowers and takes priority over most everything else. Listening and understanding is love. And in the cyberworld men may not understand you but they do have to listen.

Of course, I have had to endure the concerns of those who believe I'm out of my mind or simply that they are more cautious than I. "They could be lying about who they are!" I've been told. As if to say people you meet in person never lie about who they are? Oh, here's another one, "Anyone who has to put a personal ad on the Internet must be a real loser." Would you call someone who can type at least 150 words a minute, has the money to buy a computer and scanner to begin with, has the intelligence and literal eloquence to communicate his innermost thoughts and feelings, and has the self confidence, focus, and motivation to actually do it - a loser? Meeting someone in the flesh can be far more deceptive and dangerous these days than getting to know someone from afar. We humans are slaves to our senses first and to our hearts second. Remove all of the armor and the sensual desires and we are left with consciousness and communication in their purest forms.

Thus, I highly recommend the Internet for your next romantic interlude. Of course it helps to know what you are looking for ahead of time. The most important thing when looking for your soul mate is to know exactly who you are. First, I suggest you sit down and make a list of everything you know to be true about yourself - down to the last detail, positive and negative. Be completely honest. Then write down every detail about the man of your dreams. Understand that the man of your dreams may not be ready for you in your present state, so you have to be insightful and objective enough to realize that you may have to be willing to wait. We choose only the people we are ready to be with. Every man in my life that I chose before David was because I needed to learn a particular lesson at that time. At one time I thought I needed to be drowned in affection - so I chose a needy, insecure guy who smothered me in affection. Then, I went to the opposite extreme, pretending I could be with someone who didn't love me. On the Internet deception is obsolete because only we know who we are and what we need. We have authentic power. The power to search the cosmos incognito. When I found my "self" I realized that I am not my body or my emotions. I do not measure my worth by how I am loved, but by how I love. So cast your virtual rod and reel out into the waters of cyberspace and see if you get any love "bytes." Finding someone who loves and appreciates you is no easy task but remember, finding someone to love is the easiest thing in the universe - cyber or otherwise.

Cari is one of Dare's contributing editors. You can read her bio onDare's"Who We Are" page.Also check out Cari's just released CD "Awake & Dreaming" (yeah, that's right she's also a musician and this is her debut album -Dare highly recommends it!).

Chick Stuff

Penis Envy
by Bits

OK… I hate to admit it - and all you feminists out there are going to be pissed - but I've got to admit that I indeed suffer from penis envy. That's right. Me, a woman of the 90's - self-assured, independent, savvy, blah, blah, blah, and so on. I've got it big time.

No, I don't actually want to own a penis (although that's covered quite interestingly in the popular new book "Dick for a Day") . What I want is the confidence, no, make that arrogance that goes along with owning such a, on-first-glance, rather mild-mannered appendage.

Now, as a woman, if I owned anything that was wrinkled and shriveled, I'd have enough common sense to be embarrassed. Hell, I would at least keep my mouth shut about it. But, No!!!!! Not men, they have the audacity - the sheer balls (whole 'nother subject there) to be proud of their reproductive organ.

Take women - we've been outfitted with a rather delightful package of our own… Of course, we don't have a decent name for it, but you'll find out my answer to that later. So anyway, here we sit with probably the most powerful item on earth and what do we do with it? We hide it. Do we proudly walk around with this cocky attitude (ever heard the phrase "boy, she's one vagina-ey sonofagun") and boast about what we've got? Nooooooo. Do we swagger into a room, and meet another woman, and engage in conversational repartee such as - "Hey Joe, nice to meet you. I've heard your reputation." To which the typical reply would be - "Yeah, it's long and distinguished - just like my Johnson." I mean, What a Great Line!!!!! And we miss out on it for no other reason than we're female.

This has got to stop. OK, another example. Bathroom time. Typical scenario - two women, two men sitting at the dinner table. Lots of wine flowing, good food, good friends… Now, the situation splits. Choose your answer:

Woman has to empty her bladder:

• a) Pardon me while I retire to the ladies room.
• b) Excuse me, Veronica, shall we? (as they head to the ladies room)

Man has to empty his bladder:

• a) 'Scuse me - gotta see a man about a horse.
• b) Gonna drain the lizard.

OK, I'll admit the man's version is crude, but certainly much more entertaining and honest than the woman's statement. I once read a delightful article about peeing standing up. I sent it to a girlfriend who was appalled. Or at least not as amused as I was... What the hell is wrong with that? With wanting the same equality and arrogance and pride over "down there" as men? Are we too cultured to stoop to that level? Yeah, right. Are we too "ladylike" to discuss bodily functions (damn, guess a heartfelt burp is outta the question), or body parts?

My whole point is - why the hell are we "reserved" or "embarrassed" or "more ladylike" about our bodies, while men have the joy of being loud and proud about what they've got - and really it's nowhere near as cool as what we've got.

So, we're down to the answer - or maybe the question: What do you call your "down there"? What word(s) do you have for your "private areas" that aren't tacky, embarrassing, overly refined, or otherwise not appropriate for proud use? Men have personal names (Mr. Lazy, Romance, Stinger), common names (Little Elvis, The Big Guy, my Johnson), and a zillion versions in between. So, come on, why not share with us - with Dare your names for that most wonderful of possessions. Or at least let us know what names you despise.

Are there any big prizes for answering this little query? Um, no. But how about the joy of seeing your answer in cyberprint, like on our "Truth or Dare" page. Or the knowledge that you have shared with thousands of women the really great moniker you have coined... (Slushy?) Whatever you decide, please let me know - I'd like to get over this penis envy thing…

Bits is an eclectic chick with a passion for words and life. Happily ensconsed in a (finally) monogamous relationship. Published here and there. My favorite things (now or in the future): Yoga, henna body art, belly dancing, being naked outdoors, oh yeah - and Chesty Puller. (If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand.)

Guy Speak

An Open Letter to the Editors of Dare
by Paul Miller

Oh, Gawd. Life has truly passed me by. Here I am, a self-proclaimed writer, who actually did receive a salary at one distant point in his life for stringin' words together, but who has since been forced into the world of real salaries, mortgages, child care, and other forms of grown-up endeavor. Sure, I haven't been published anywhere for a while. Yeah, I know, I'm letting those contacts slip. But someone is bound to remember me; to keep me and my keyboard stowed safely on the top shelf, until that mythical future is realized, when I once again have time to write.

And someone did. They asked me to write for... what? A women's magazine? An on-line women's magazine? Argghhhh! What have I done to deserve pre-death purgatory? Who did I offend (well, let's not go there). On whose butt did I fail to perform the necessary lip-lock? Me, of all people... Me, who thinks television peaked at Married With Children... Me, who never saw past the candy bars when waiting to pay for groceries, and who until last year thought Cosmo was a Seinfeld character... Me, who still isn't a 100 percent convinced that women really should be allowed to vote... Me, who can't understand why anyone would ever trust anything they read on the World Wide Web - haven that it is for basement pornographers and crack-pot conspiracy theorists.

And they've even sent me writer's guidelines. Hmm, let's have a look. Ah, it's not a magazine. I see that it's just a 'zine. In that case, I guess I'll just address this letter to the 'tors of Dare. Reading on... blah, blah, women this, women that... "Dare isn't the typical..." Like everybody doesn't say that... "New millennium..." Okay, here come the crystals and mood music... Let's see, departments... "Needs and Wants" - oh, man!... "Sex against the side of a car"? Well, maybe that shows promise... "Guy Speak" - I guess I'm qualified for that, as long as nobody is going to open the hood of some obligatory car and ask me what all those metal and rubber things are supposed to do...

Okay, here we go. Compensation. None?!! What the %*#$! Are you kidding me? I don't even get a check? You want me to write for a bunch of e-mailing, rabble-rousing females who think the whole world revolves around their emotional needs, and you're not even going to pay me? This is lower than purgatory. This is on par with Judge Judy condemning me to 400 hours of community service as a Rickie Lake associate producer.

I won't do it, I say! I've got my standards. I'm a professional. I, I, what's that, I haven't written anything in how long?

Dear Dare:
I'm in.

Paul Miller is a Dare contributing editor.