"Call," Greg said, tossing his chips into the middle of the beat-up, hand-me-down table.

Sophie frowned. Her boyfriend was a terrible bluffer, but she believed he was holding a decent hand. He just kept getting lucky tonight.

"Raise," Emily smiled, cheerfully tossing in another ten buck chip. She was a bubbly little blonde, all smiles and pearly whites. Sophie had known her since middle school—before her tits had popped out of nowhere one summer and packs of drooling boys had started worshipping the ground she flounced across. Still, she was a sweetheart.

Sophie had been a later bloomer, but she teased Em that she'd won in the end. Emily's more-than-ample, ivory-white cleavage could stun a man at twenty paces, sure, but Sophie could let her brunette tresses drape across the cinnamon cannons she eventually grew and flatten a whole platoon. It had just taken her until senior year to get the artillery up and running, that's all. She was the more athletic of the pair, to boot, though Emily had the supermodel legs-for-miles physique going for her. They joked about who would break more hearts, now that the pair of them were off to college.

Emily's bet was interesting, Sophie mused. Greg didn't know Em that well, and he tended to get skittish playing with new people. Maybe she'd scare him off.

"Call," Sophie said, wanting to see how things played out. Greg matched. Sophie flipped another card from the deck into the middle of the table. Nine of hearts. Didn't do her any good.

Greg chewed his lip. He insisted he didn't have a tell—hah! As if. Poor thing. Greg wasn't the most popular guy around, and he desperately wanted to have a "thing". He'd decided that ordering a couple pizzas and hosting a weekly poker night at his apartment was going to be it. Usually, it just got some loose acquaintances to come over and leave with his money. But he'd been on a hot streak lately.

Emily joked that Greg was "good-enough-looking," when it was just her and Sophie talking—he had the jawline, he was tall, he dressed as well as any other broke college guy—but the freshman fifteen had taken their toll on him, compared to when they'd first started going out. Sophie seemed to get hotter every day, her passion for sports and her developing sense of style blossoming as they went into sophomore year, but Greg was losing ground on his girlfriend. Emily had taken to calling him Sophie's "community service".

"Fifty," he finally said, dropping a pile of chips into the middle.

"Call," Emily slid a stack in to match him.

"Call," Sophie announced immediately, knowing Greg was trying to buy his way out of a hole. Taking this pot from him could put her back in the game.

"You can't call," Greg told her smugly. "You don't have enough chips left."

Sophie fought down a flicker of annoyance at his tone. He was right, she had a grand total of thirty bucks at her disposal. She'd hung on all night, surviving as everyone else at the party had crashed and burned, the whole crowd eventually leaving Greg's dingy little apartment rather than watch the three of them play the game out all night—but she was dangling by a thread. Emily had been a contender for a while, but Greg was bleeding her dry, too.

Sophie should have taken her profits and quit an hour ago, but she hated the idea of Greg winning poker night for the third time in a row. He was such a smug ass, afterward. She'd sworn to herself that she was going to dump him on the spot if he ever used the phrase "you play the person across from you" again.

Well. Everyone else was gone. She saw no reason it had to come to that this week.

"I have enough to make up the difference," Sophie said, a wicked grin spreading across her lips. She reached behind herself and slid a hand up her top, a close-fitting babydoll tee with a "vintage" metal band logo stretched across the bust. Twist-snap, and her bra come loose, her tits practically catapulting out of it. She shrugged and squirmed and slid the lacey black thing—she'd imagined a possible treat for Greg if she was feeling like it later—out from under her shirt and dropped in on the table.

"You can't do that," Greg grumbled, his ears turning red as he glanced sidelong at Emily.

Emily, on the other hand, lit up. She bit her lip and sat back, studying Sophie intently.

"Sure I can. I'm still paying, too," Sophie leaned forward, resting her massive breasts on the table top, pushing them forward so they caused her modest tower of poker chips to topple into the middle. "It seems fair to meee," she teased.

"Sophie," Greg hissed. "Stop. This is embarrassing."

"Actually," Emily said, "I'll call." She dropped a neon pink bra into the middle of the table. Sophie looked over to see her perky nipples straining against her almost-translucent white tank top.

"When did you even take that off?" she giggled.

"Trade secret," Emily teased.

"It's not even your turn!" Greg complained.

Sophie ignored him and flipped her cards over. "Pair of sevens," she told Emily.

Emily flipped hers. "Flush!"

"Damn, I lose," Sophie let out an exaggerated sigh. "I guess that means I lose these," she shimmied beneath the table, and a moment later she dropped her Daisy Dukes into the pile of chips.

"That's not how…" Greg gulped. "What are you doing?"

Emily leaned over and cupped Sophie's chin, beaming from ear to ear. She planed a kiss on her mouth, long and sensuous and slow, making sure Greg saw her tongue sliding into his girlfriend's lips. Sophie returned it happily.

They turned on Greg.

Sophie got up and sashayed around the table to him, Emily mirroring her movement from the other direction. Sophie traced a fingernail from his chin down the side of his neck, tugging at the collar of his tee shirt.

"You going to call or raise, mister?" she purred.

"Do you want to give him his birthday present early?" Emily giggled, sidling up next to him, her double D's gently swaying two inches from his face.

Greg scooted his chair back.

"What are you doing?" he panted, looking between the two of them frantically. "I can't just—Sophie and I are together!" He kept trying to avert his eyes from Emily, though his willpower never seemed to last for more than a second. His gaze kept crawling back, obviously hungry for more, but then he would snap to Sophie with an expression of guilt and confusion.

Emily shot Sophie an exasperated look.

"It's okay, hun," Sophie told him, trying and failing to keep the annoyance out of her voice. She moved forward and straddled him, wrapping her arms around the nape of his neck and kissing him to smother whatever he'd been about to say next, pressing her breasts flat against his chest. She kept his tongue busy while she slowly ground on his lap, feeling his cock stiffen through his basketball shorts despite his…lack of focus. His shaft pressed through the fabric of his pants and her skimpy panties, sliding between her pussy lips and she undulated back and forth. She sighed, relaxing as the first tingle of pleasure soaked into her. Greg could be a pain in the ass, but a good fuck would make them all feel much better.

"We're going to share her," Sophie purred into his ear. "I was going to wait until your birthday, but…it's just the three of us right now…"

Emily, right on cue, stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around the grinding couple, pressing her tits into the back of his head like glorious pillows.

"But—" he began. Sophie responded by bucking her hips, making sure she caught the head of his dick on her next pass. He clammed up. Good boy.

"Let's go to the couch," Emily suggested. Sophie concurred, rising and practically dragging Greg behind her.

"Get those off," she commanded, and Emily enthusiastically complied, yanking Greg's shorts and boxers down with one smooth motion. He started to protest, but Sophie pushed him down onto the couch. His dick waved in the air with seeming excitement despite its owner's confusion. Good enough.

"Oh, you're right, it is a little crooked!" Emily observed, kneeling down in front of him and putting it at eye level.

Sophie nodded, appraising his manhood. The leftward kink had been interesting for a time, but only in certain positions. She'd always felt like it could have been more fun, if only Greg was more willing to employ it creatively. But, overall, he was thick and veiny and easy enough to get off on, so long as she was willing to take charge at some point. Greg wasn't much of a pleaser, if left to his own devices.

Sophie laid down on the couch beside Greg, tits pressed into his thigh. "Happy birthday, darling," she said, hoping she sounded more sincere than she felt at the moment. Seriously, what guy was this much of a pill about having TWO gorgeous women trying to get his clothes off?

Maybe it was sweet of him, she tried to tell herself. He doesn't want to cheat on me. That's nice, right? Right.

She hooked his shaft with one finger and inclined it toward herself. Maybe if she started things off, he'd relax, and they could have some fun. She popped his tip into her mouth, letting her lips engulf it entirely, sucking on it as she swirled her tongue around. She tried to encircle the whole flange of his mushroom, sliding her tongue against his most sensitive points. He gasped.

She let him go with a pop and passed it to Emily.

"Wait, wait—" Greg said, but Emily went right for the kill; his entire cock disappeared down her throat in an instant. She held him there for seconds, the muscles of her neck clearly working in some secret art known only to her. Greg groaned, and she released him back to Sophie.

"Stop!" Greg pleaded before Sophie could make her move.

"What?" She sighed. Jesus.

"It's not—I don't feel right about it!"

"Your extremely hot girlfriend brought her extremely hot friend over, so they could both suck your dick, what is the fucking problem?" Sophie snapped.  

"Uh. It's not that I don't want…I…" Greg stammered.

Sophie sighed. Breathe, she told herself. It's his present. If he doesn't want it…

"Okay. Maybe this was too much, too fast. But Emily is hot, right?"

Greg glanced between them nervously. He finally nodded.

"Cool. So maybe we just…work with that," Sophie said. "Em, take your shirt off and go sit in the recliner. Your bottoms, too."

Emily looked disappointed, but complied, her unfairly-perky tits springing free as she tossed her tank top to the side. She slid out of her little black shorts before she sat down, making sure Greg got a nice view of her ass as she did.

"Alright, hun. Think of this like a live porno. We watch porn when we do it sometimes, right?"

"Uh…right," Greg admitted, blushing as he looked at Emily. Emily winked at him.

"Em, touch yourself. Really dial up the sexy."

Emily giggled and did as she was told. One hand massaged her breasts, tugging at her rosy nipples and twisting the huge mounds of flesh beneath them. Her other hand slid down to her glistening pussy. She teased at her clit, rubbing little circles around its circumference. She slid one finger inside herself, then two. She started moaning almost immediately, casting smoldering glances of ecstasy at Greg.

Seeing Greg transfixed on the blonde bombshell spread out before him, Sophie slid his manhood back into her mouth. She felt his throbbing, quivering pulse against her tongue, felt his skin shifting in her mouth as she drew him in and out of her. He groaned again. She tickled at his balls, letting the very tips of her fingernails trace electric thrills across his shyest parts, feeling him twitch in response. Her other hand gripped his shaft whenever it slid out of her mouth, working it with firm determination. Sometimes she held just his tip inside her for special tongue treatment while she pumped him this way. That always seemed effective.

She took him in again, deciding that she would mount him after a few more minutes. Maybe once he was balls-deep in a fucking sex goddess, he'd be a little more receptive to everything she and Em had been planning all week. It could still be a—

Sophie felt Greg's cock swell and spasm as hot, salty warmth flooded her mouth. She sucked it down, feeling it ooze through her throat as he moaned and continued to twitch, his desperate cock divulging every bit it could.

"Fucking seriously, Greg?" Sophie growled as soon as she could disengage without ruining the couch cushions.

"What is it?" Emily asked, eyes half closed as she rolled her hips sensuously, fingertips dancing on her clit in a mesmerizing display.

"He fucking came already."

"I'm sorry! I—"

"You're always sorry!" She practically yelled. Some little voice in her head wondered if she was being hard on him, but she was annoyed. Frustrated. Every time she tried to do something nice, something adventurous, something sexy, Greg spoiled it somehow. She felt like he didn't know what he had—as if a girl like her was going to come along for a guy like him every day. "Sorry, sorry, sorry! 'Sorry Greg!' That's what we'll call you."

"We just got started," Emily pouted, not slowing down her pleasure in the slightest.

"Fucking tell me about it!" Sophie cursed. "Couldn't even last five damn minutes, really? First, you freak out over my friend being here, then you blow your load like a teenager. Who's gonna fuck ME, Greg? I've been planning this for—"

"Sorry! I…shit," Greg scrambled off the couch and down to his knees beside Sophie's pelvis. "I can make it good for you, too."

Sophie was skeptical, but…what the hell. Emily was still enjoying herself, why shouldn't she? At least he was showing a spark of enthusiasm for the first time all night.

She sighed, trying to relax. The evening could be salvaged, and their rocky start would just be a funny story about an otherwise incredible evening. Right. Okay.

She rolled over and turned to present herself to Greg. He pushed her panties aside and immediately started poking at her like she was an arcade machine. He used his tongue, twice, like he was licking a battery on a dare.

"Jesus," Sophie muttered after five minutes.

"Move," Emily appeared and shoved Greg aside. "That's just tragic."

Emily's blonde hair spilled over Sophie's thighs as she took Greg's place between them. She pushed Sophie's caramel legs out wider, repositioning her hips just-so, then slid her panties off and set to work.

Em started with long, slow licks down the length of her sex, beginning just outside of Sophie's entrance and stopping just shy of her clit. She let Sophie's smooth pussy lips engulf her tongue as she went, slowly teasing them apart by degrees with each successive pass, relishing her friend's sweetness the whole way.

Emily could feel all the tension in Sophie's body on the tip of her tongue, feel as it bled off piece by piece, as her annoyance with Greg melted in the face of pure sensation. When she was truly relaxed enough to be in the moment, Emily shifted her focus.

She kissed Sophie's clit once, twice, then again, teasing it with light strokes of her fingers between each one. Then she began to trace slow, warm circles with her tongue, gliding the tip of it around the perimeter of Sophie's button. Every few heartbeats, without warning or a predictable pattern, she would flick her tongue from one point in that circle to the opposite side, flashing across her friend's nerves in a burst of pleasure and fulfilled anticipation.

Sophie gasped as Emily slipped a finger inside her and began massaging her walls in time with the circles of her tongue, languid and sensuous with flashes of intensity. Emily was increasing her pace steadily, but gradually. Sophie felt like a kettle coming to boil, slowly filling with warmth and pent-up energy.

"Pay attention, Greg," she moaned. "You're either learning how to do this, or you're never going to be inside me again."

She felt Emily's lips tug into a smile against her groin. Then Emily shifted tactics again, pressing the entire surface of her tongue flat against Sophie's clit, blanketing it in textured warmth. She shifted it back and forth, up and down, touching Sophie's every nerve at once. Her hips bucked in involuntary response, a slight quiver developing in her legs.

Emily slipped another finger inside her, hooking both back to massage her G-spot, drawing half circles and figure-eights with two dueling digits, deep inside Sophie's silken recesses. She twisted her tongue as she worked, so that the blanketing pleasure worked in multiple directions at once, and Sophie cried out. Her whole body was trembling, near to bursting—the kettle about to boil, tiny bubbles fervent and ready to erupt into sublime, roiling chaos.

A last attempt. "Greg!" Sophie shouted through her belabored breathing. "Get behind her, and fuck her senseless."

Greg tried. Poor Greg. Emily stood, bending over and presenting herself to him without relenting for a moment in her onslaught on Sophie's senses. The blonde's intoxicating pussy, pink and enticing beyond her perfect ass cheeks, bobbed gently up and down as she worked to bring Sophie closer and closer to bliss.

Greg jammed his damp, flaccid rope against her, to no avail. He tugged at it, swung it around, but couldn't get it to react. He tried draping himself between Emily's ass cheeks while he reached around to paw at her dangling breasts, but his member didn't react.

Emily abandoned him to his fate. She seized one of Sophie's legs and threw it over her shoulder, straddling the other and brining her clit to grind against Sophie's. She rolled her hips like a dancer, like a stripper, like a tornado, throwing her head back and relishing the sensation.

Sophie's breath caught in her heaving, jiggling chest. She boiled over, the warmth flooding through her, every muscle tightening near to breaking and then unwinding, as if every individual fiber in her was stretched to new lengths of tingling, electric satisfaction.

She felt Emily cum, shaking above her, her legs and abdomen trembling, a bright smile wide on her face as she cried out, her perky tits heaving in the air. Emily kept them together until the last quivers had left them both, then folded down on top of her on the couch. They kissed, bodies intertwining, panting and sighing in satisfaction.

"Greg, why are you still here?" Sophie murmured after a few minutes. Neither one of them opened their eyes to see if he actually was.