"Tom, give me your hard stick so I can stroke it. I know I can make all the balls go off in the pocket, even if your stick is smaller than John's. Sure you wouldn't want to stroke it in for me?" Kim teased at the pool parlor.
"Tom's stick has always made me a winner Kim, fully and completely satisfied. I hear John has a big stick, but he doesn't know how to use it!" Keri teased back.
"John has always satisfied me." Kim pouted, arching her back to thrust out her tits, more concerned with her appearance than with making her shot.
"Then how come you are losing? He doesn't even know how to get it in the hole! How's he gonna satisfy, when he can't even dump his heavy balls in the hole? Watch me now, as I stroke our balls, right in the hole! See? Tom's stick is the one that truly satisfies!" Keri taunted as she made her shot. That's always how it was with Kim and Keri. No matter if it was playing pool, or in the bowling league, or in the softball league, or in volleyball. It was always a competition between them, and so between John and I. Sometimes we just played along, sometimes we just sat back in shame, and most of the time, we did our level best to make our wives proud. It was all we had left. We had long ago given up our dreams of being pro athletes, John to a knee injury, myself to a crushed vertebra. We had finished college with our meaningless degrees, but with our trophy wives intact.
We were no slouches either in the looks department. John's burly lineman physique at 6'2", 220, my halfback sleek 6'1", 195 frames still drew hot glances from the women. His dark hair matched Kim's, while my Aryan good looks were the perfect match to Keri's Nordic blonde charms. Except for the hair, they were practically the same, figure-wise, with firm 36D-25-35 bodies that still stopped clocks and traffic. Boy, did they know it! They loved the attention, and dressed for it. Every time Keri bent over for a shot, the whole pool hall got quiet as they gazed at her sweet breasts hanging in her open blouse. Kim was wearing a dress so short that when she stretched out to make a shot on the table, her whole rear, framed in her lacy white panties, was on view. They wore the skimpiest thong and string bikinis, whenever they could. Here, in Dallas, there were lots of chances.
They competed for attention, even betting on how many times we made love per week. How many times we came, per night, or per week, were subjects of betting, taunting, prolonged negotiations, scheming, or outright manipulation. I could never be sure if Keri wanted to make love to me because she was horny, or if it was to mark down another check mark in a contest with Kim.
Phil and Lisa were the other couple on our bowling team. Phil had the misfortune to be going prematurely bald, somewhat short, 5'7", and slightly overweight (180). His auburn hair was no match for his wife. Lisa's dark Hispanic good looks and petite frame always turned me on. She was two inches shorter than Phil, Kim, and Keri, but her 34B-24-34 frame and ruby red lips had given me many orgasms just from fantasy. Whether it was performing for Keri, or on the rare occasion that I was all alone and needed to whack off, I just couldn't get her tight rear end and hot lips out of my mind. If I had only known how hot she really was, I might never have been able to stop jerking off to my fantasies of her.
It all startled in the alley. Over the season, we had gone from T-shirts and jeans, to button down bowling shirts (so that the girls could show more cleavage), to short skirts, to mini-skirts and shorts for us guys.
As with all our adventures, there was liquor flowing, and something none of the wives had counted on happened: Lisa was an exhibitionist. They all worked in the same big finance company office downtown. She was real conservative at work. How could they have known? So as Lisa prepared to bowl, she was bent over, her beautiful breasts hanging down, nearly out of her liberally unbuttoned blouse, her fine, tight ass clearly displayed with her miniskirt fully ridden up over her ass. Her gauzy, transparent panties showed me that she shaved her bush into a tight little triangle, right above the dark lips of her slit. My gaze activated Keri's radar, and she quickly bet Kim that she could show more than either her or Lisa. Soon none of our women had on panties, or bras. Good thing it was a late night league. Every time they bowled, the lanes went quiet. The attention had them so turned on they were squirming. Phil was drooling, and John was shifting back and forth in his seat, desperately trying to keep his mind on keeping score. That's when Lisa dropped her bombshell.
"You're both very hot looking women. But a hot women is only as good as her man. I'll bet that I'm a better kisser than either of you, and that Phil is a far better kisser than John or Tom. You up to the bet, or not?" Lisa laid down a dare that challenged not only their feminity, but our manhood as well.
"What are the stakes? I like Phil, and I'm sure Kim does too, but this had better be pretty damn good to let him kiss me." Keri demanded it be worth her while.
"OK, hows this? If I lose, I will clean your house, for a week, buck naked. Phil will be your butler, serve you breakfast in bed, wait on you hand and foot If I win, as I am certain that I will, you must each do the same for us." Lisa laid out the stakes, with a wink over to Phil, who seemed genuinely happy to win or to lose, which should have bothered me, but for some reason it just slipped my mind at the time.
"Hot bet! I'm in, what about you, Kim?" Keri jumped right in, as usual.
"I don't know, Keri. It seems like she wins either way. I'm not sure I want her naked in my house for a week. It's not fair to Phil, since he won't get to see us naked. Besides, there is more to a man as a lover than how well he kisses. Kissing just is the start of determining how good a lover he is. Take John. I'll bet you once again he's got the biggest cock here. You're not proposing that we all hop into bed together, are you?" Kim wanted to test the limits, to see how far Lisa was prepared to go, and then if she and Keri were up for that.
"No, not unless you want to, but when I said Phil is the best kisser here, I meant bar none. It doesn't matter which part of your body he kisses, he'll be better at it than John or Tom. It doesn't matter which part of your men's bodies I kiss, I'll be better at it than either one of you!" Lisa back peddled and boldly struck out into new territory at the same time, as John and I suddenly got the message that blow jobs were coming up on the radar of the conversation, making us sit bolt upright in the plastic seats of the alley.
"Let me get this straight. You claim that you, Lisa, will be better than both Kim or I at kissing our men, in any and all categories. Then you claim that Phil will be better than both John or Tom at kissing us ladies, in any or all categories. If you lose a single category, or Phil does, in either the men's or women's division, then we win?" Keri outlined the rules of the game.
"Right." Lisa said smugly, a little too cock sure of her husband.
"Keri, we can't lose!God, how I hate housework. Let's do it, but add in that the losers have to towel dry the winners after their baths or showers, and it's a deal!" Kim demanded, adding her own quirks to the ante of the bet.
"I agree, Kim. Is it a deal, everybody?" Keri looked at me with a look like divorce court was our next stop if I said no, which I had no intentions of doing. I couldn't stop thinking about finally kissing Lisa's ruby red lips, or what she might do to me with them, and quickly agreed. So did everyone else, for their own reasons. We were lucky it was well into the third game, because no one could concentrate on bowling at all after that. The women proudly displayed all their charms for the whole alley to see, until it was time to go. We drove quickly. We all knew our way to each other's homes by heart. I had never been inside Phil and Lisa's before.
