Play Air-Hockey

You look at her appearance, deciding she's probably got some experience in this place, and walk to the air hockey table. When you're both at opposite ends of the table, before either of you can start looking for a way of turning it on, the air begins to whir up, you hear a clunk of a puck being released at your end of the table, and howling laughter starts coming from under the table. As you bend to collect the puck, you look under the table and your eyes widen as you see a naked young man looking to be about college-age bound into the bottom of the table with long, blonde hair, blue eyes, a swimmer's build and a golden tan that revealed a preference for swim briefs bound into the bottom of the table. Feathers rotate from within the machine, assaulting his armpits, the soles of his feet and between his toes, as small, fluffy disks rotate, buffing at his nipples and various parts of his rock-hard cock and balls.

You grab the disk and attempt to leave the table, hoping that it will fit into a slot in one of the doors, but some unseen **** prevents you from moving away from the table. Instead, you try and block out the screams of laughter, and notice that the woman is looking under the table herself. You quickly place the puck on the table and shoot it directly into the net, quickly scoring the first goal as the woman stands back up properly. Instead of the table displaying a score, the woman's shirt disintegrates, revealing a plain white bra. She looks at you, annoyed. "Well, that's just a dick move."

She launches the puck, hard, straight at your goal. You're able to block, and it ricochets a couple of times from the walls as it heads towards her. She does another hard shot, this time the puck ricochets off a few walls and sneaks into your goal before you're able to quite able to process the angles it's coming at you from. Your boots and socks disintegrate, and you feel a sticky tackiness from the carpet lining the floor of the room. You hope from soda. Distracted by the feeling of sticky carpet under your feet, you whiff your first shot, which she takes full advantage of, sinking an easy goal and you feel a shift in the way the air from the table hits you as your shirt disintegrates leaving you bare-chested.

Closing your eyes, you take a moment to refocus, tuning out the stickiness of the carpet under your bare feet, the way the air of the room feels around your chest, and the howling laughter coming from the man under the table. You open them, place the puck back on the table and an intense rally begins between you and the woman on the opposite side of the table until you eventually break the stalemate and score one against her, her skirt disintegrating into nothing revealing matching panties to her bra. She narrows her eyes, focusing firmly on the table, and a second rally begins, this time she eventually edges ahead of you, and you feel your jeans disintegrate, revealing your black boxer briefs.

The next rally is a lot scrappier, but you eventually prevail. Her bra disintegrates, revealing her voluminous breasts, and you feel your dick start to harden.