A bet is laid

"Man we stink," Kyle says with a grin, and it's apparent he's not referring to the odor of three men who haven't bathed.

"Maybe we should have a bet," Trevor responds.

"Like what, person who does the worst wins?" Josh laughs, handing you a drink and then putting a hand low on your belly to move you aside for his next shot. Your breath hitches in your throat and you guzzle the beer to hide your flushed cheeks.

Trevor grins back before heading off to get a refill for himself. Josh takes his shot, sinking only the white ball.

"Damn, we must be really distracted by Jenny," he says, accepting a drink as Trevor returns.

Flushing a little at the compliment you accept your fourth beer from Trevor, feeling more than a little tipsy as Kyle puts his hand on the front of your shoulder to move you a little. Trevor, standing nearby, stops you from bumping him with a work-hardened hand on your hip, his skin feeling scratchy against yours where it touches you between the skirt's laces.

"Alright, so we place a bet. What, two bucks for a game? Five?" Trevor asks, his hand feeling like it's sending heat straight to your crotch as it stays on you.

"Better make it two. The drinks we've been having are bleeding me dry," Josh says, nodding at yours.

"Oh..." is all you can think to say, belatedly realizing that you might not be the only one hard-up.

After Kyle nearly, but not quite, sinks a ball he and Trevor switch places, awkwardly sandwiching you between them as they brush by you on each side, hands using your hips and upper rib cage to steady you. Kyle remains standing behind you, his hands just barely shy of your breasts as they continue to talk about it.

"I suppose we could do it by drink. Each ball is one drink the others will pay for. Whoever wins doesn't pay," Kyle says from behind you, his thumbs rubbing absently across your shoulder blades in a relaxing motion.

"How does that work?" Josh asks as Trevor takes his shot.

"Always the black ball," Trevor winces, squeezing between you and Kyle to retrieve the ball from a pocket.

"At least your balls are getting somewhere," Josh smirks.

"Oh hey, your shot, Jenny," Kyle said, giving you a light squeeze. Trevor holds out the pool stick, which Kyle takes for you, his left hand lightly brushing the tops of your breasts as he takes it for you.

"Good luck," he says, stepping aside, his hands trailing across your bare back, inadvertantly skewing your top so that your nipples jut clear through the mesh of your top.

"Th-thanks," you say, finding the words a little hard to form as you take a quick sip of beer before staring at the table cluelessly.

"Try that one," Josh suggests, pointing to a ball on the far side, putting his hand on your hip. As he leans forward to indicate the one his hands slips across your buttocks before he steps back. "It's not close but there's nothing in the way."

The men at the bar could easily echo that sentiment as they see you bending over and flashing your glistening pubes. Miraculously you hit the ball, sinking it into the hole behind it.

"Way to go, Jenny!" the men cheer, slapping you on the first remaining patch of skin they can reach. Kyle goes for a high five, but perhaps due to the drinks you miss, your palm lightly smacking his lips, and his winding up atop your right breast.

"Oh, sorry!" you exclaim at the same time. Although he pulls his hand slowly back after a couple of seconds you lean forward at the same time to check his mouth, inadvertantly keeping his hand in contact with a breast that seems to pulse with excitement beneath his touch.

"Are you okay?" you ask, forgetting his hand as you inspect his lip.

He laughs as your hand touches his lips, letting your fingers linger as long as you want, and you suddenly - if belatedly, realize that you're all but pressing against him. You pull back with embarrassment, stumbling into Josh, who catches your waist as your buttocks bump into him. You can clearly feel the hard bulge of his dick, his height placing it along your back as you momentarily stay plastered to his form.

"Your shot," Josh says into your ears, hand trailing across your front, just above your skirt in order to reach your other hand, from which the pool cue dangles forgotten.

"Try that one," he says, pointing at another unobstructed shot that's even closer than the last one. He helps move you into position and steps back, hand trailing lightly across the top of your ass, making you shiver.

Taking another gulp for good luck you line up the shot, breathing heavily as you try to focus on the game and not the sensations within your body.

Amazingly enough you sink another ball, and the boys congratulate you with hugs, their crotches each sporting hard lumps that press against your stomach briefly before they kiss your cheek and pull back.

"However many balls you sink equals a number of beers you don't have to pay for?" Josh suggests once the revelry subsides, staying in a half-hug, one arm across the bottom of a breast while the other is flush against your tailbone.

"How many have we had?"

"Four, I think?" Trevor sounds uncertain.

"So if Jenny, for example, sinks four balls she doesn't have to pay for hers?" Kyle asks, looking a little confused, but not as confused as you. Then again, math never was your strong suit, and you're basking in the glow of a pair of good shots and a quartet of drinks.

"Since Jenny's so hot she can break," Josh says as the others reset the table.

"Uh, okay," you say, and let Josh bend you over the table in front of the white ball.