Friendly Competition

Kay’s bent over the green felt, cue steady, when Paige strolls in from the kitchen. “Deal me in?” she grins. The match turns rowdy fast—sharp shots, louder trash talk—and Paige ups the stakes. “One more in the side pocket and this top’s history.” Ball drops clean. Off comes the tee and, surprise, no bra—perky tits on full display. Kay’s jaw slips. “You’re actually stripping?” Paige shrugs, already chalking up again. “Strip pool beats regular any day.” Robby loses the next two racks; his jeans and then his boxers hit the floor, cock half-hard in the cooler air. Kay lines up a tough bank shot, misses on purpose, smirks. “New rules. Whoever sinks a ball sucks Robby first.” Paige calls it genius. Cue sticks lean against felt as both women drop to their knees. Mouths trade turns—soft lips sliding over his shaft, wet tongues tracing balls—until they’re moaning like it’s the real prize. Robby groans, hands on their heads. Jeans, skirts, panties get kicked aside; now the only thing they want on the table is each other. Pool night officially upgraded.