Friendly Competition

Kay's date Robby lines up a shot while her roommate Paige watches from the door, wearing that you-can't-be-serious grin. When Paige asks to play, Kay shrugs and racks the balls again. The competition ramps up fast—trash talk, dramatic poses, the whole bit. Then Paige leans in like she just hatched the dumbest-greatest idea and declares that sinking the next shot means her shirt comes off. She nails it. The ball drops with a click, and Paige peels her top straight off, boobs bouncing free like they rehearsed the moment. Kay blinks, half-laughing, half-asking if she's really doing this. Paige just grins wider: "Strip pool? We might as well go all the way." Robby coughs, tries to hide his smile, and the game rolls on. Turns out Robby can't hit a pocket when two pairs of tits are within elbow range. First his jeans hit the felt, then his boxers follow with a polite thud. Kay eyes his half-hard cock, tilts her head, and says they could turn this into a dick contest. Paige is already kneeling before Kay finishes the sentence. They trade turns licking up his shaft, sucking on his balls, making little jokes between slurps. When both women finally shimmy out of the rest of their clothes, the table isn't looking so interesting anymore. Balls are still on the felt, sure, but nobody seems to care.