“I want to play pool,” Carol said. She looked at Bill, and then at me. “Who wants to play with me?”
We went to the pool table to have a game. “What are we going to play with three people?” I asked.
“We’ll play cut-throat,” Bill said as he racked the balls.
I listened as Bill explained how to play the game. Each player would have five of the fifteen balls.
“So, one player gets the low-balls, the one through the five. Another player gets the mid-balls, the six through the ten, and the other player has the eleven through the fifteen. The object of the game is to be the last player with one or more of their balls on the table.
“We decide who has which group by the break. If you make a ball on the break, you get to choose which group you want. You continue shooting until you miss. When the next player shoots, they choose between the remaining two groups and shoot until they miss,” Bill said.
“How do we decide who breaks?” I asked.
“I’ll get a deck of cards. We’ll pick a card to determine the order,” Bill said.
We went to the bar for another drink and to select a card. Bill poured tequila into our glasses, held his up, and said, “Here’s to fun and games.”
Nodding, Carol said, “I’ll drink to that. Hell, I’ll drink to anything.”
“Are you already getting drunk, honey?” Bill said.
“Nope, just getting mellow,” My sister replied.
We took our drinks, ate the lemon slices, and then Bill spread a deck of cards on the bar. We each selected a card, flipping it over to show the others what we had. I had the highest card and would break. Bill’s card was lowest, so he’d shoot last.
Before starting to play, Carol asked for another shot of tequila. Bill poured but didn’t put as much in the glasses as before.
We played three games. Each of us won one. Between games, we took shots, chasing them with beer.
As we played our fourth game, I watched my sister lean over the table to take her shot. Her tank-top gapped, giving me a view of the tops of her breasts. Looking up, Carol giggled and then hit the cue ball.
“My brother was trying to look down my top,” Carol said as she bumped against me. “Matt was always trying to peek at my tits when we were younger.”
I felt myself blushing. Carol noticed and smiled at me.
“Did you ever see her tits?” Bill asked. He looked at my sister and raised his eyebrows.
“Not really. Carol never wore tops that revealed much,” I said.
Hugging Carol from behind, Bill said, “You never flashed your brother? My little sister couldn’t keep her boobs hidden. She was always flashing me.”
“I wasn’t an exhibitionist when I was a teenager,” Carol said. She wiggled against Bill. “You know you were the first man to see my breasts. You were the first guy to see anything.”
“You weren’t a good big sister,” Bill said as he held Carol’s hips.
Shrugging her shoulders, Carol said, “Well, you’re not a good husband. My drink is empty.”
Bill kissed my sister’s neck. He chuckled and said, “Well, if you show us your tits, I’ll get you another drink.”
Looking back over her shoulder, Carol winked at Bill. Then, much to my surprise, she lifted her arms. Bill gripped the hem of her top, pulling it up and off. When my sister saw the look on my face, she giggled.
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