Al and I were on a softball team several years back and we became good friends. We both liked working on cars and roughing it. It was a few years before our schedules and our wives’ all allowed us to set up a rafting trip together. (Al’s wife Deedee is a teacher, so that part was easy. I’m an internal auditor for a firm with a lot of locations, so that wasn’t as easy.) After that, with just a little effort, we made it an annual event. Last year the trip got just a little more interesting.
There was a huge chemical spill up river from our usual site, and it was too late to make arrangements anywhere else. We had the cabin rented, so we just decided to make the best of it. The night before we went back, Tammy, my wife, made her special camp-style spaghetti. She uses pepperoni instead of beef, because it can last the weekend without refrigeration, and it gives the spaghetti a different taste. Al and Deedee brought one of the better wines from the warehouse club that Al manages. We’d pretty much done everything there was to do safely outdoors, but Deedee had come prepared. She remembered that the cabin’s TV had a DVD player built in, and she brought one of those games where you watch a scene and answer questions about it. We all thought it seemed like a good way to kill an hour or so.
Tammy’s got a great ass, but when Deedee’s shirt gets wet, it’s hard to look away. The wine had loosened up our inhibitions, so I probably wasn’t as clever as I thought when I suggested playing the strip version. At least, when Al said, “I second that idea,” I had a feeling he had a similar idea about Tammy.
Al and I waited for that awkward split second before Deedee spoke up. “Okay, but just to make things interesting, why don’t you and Tammy play as a team?”
Tammy was sitting on the couch, and the game was next to her. She moved it onto the table and gestured to Al. From the look on her face, she probably figured out what at least one of us was up to. Knowing how competitive both us guys are, she probably also figured our desire to win would trump our desire for the other guy’s wife to remove her clothing. Deedee said, “How ’bout these for ground rules? If you miss a question, one of you has to take something off. If you get one right, both players on the other side have to take something off.” Everyone was okay with that.
Al got the first question right, so I took off my watch and Deedee took off a sandal. I suppressed a grin when I saw it, because she obviously didn’t have socks on to delay my treat. A few questions later, not trying to cheat to lose, I got one wrong. I decided to make the best of it. Even though I still had my shirt on, I opted to take off my pants.
The scene for one of Deedee’s questions was a staged scene at a bus stop. It reminded Tammy of something she’d witnessed once, and we ended up with a half-hour bull session. The game didn’t progress, but we were all drinking the wine Al had brought. By the time we got back on track, it was having its effect. We’d forgotten the question, and there was no way to back up, so we just went to the next one. She got it wrong, and Al whispered something to her. She nodded. She pulled her hands inside her T-shirt, moved around, and dropped her bra out under the hem. Al gave me a look that said, “You owe me one.”
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