Pong

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A game of Strip Pong in a fraternity basement.
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TUESDAY

GAMMA GAMMA GAMMA

MIDNIGHT

It was a Tuesday night at Green College, and most of the campus was fairly dead. Wednesday nights were Greek Meetings, so partying war standard fare then. Thursday nights meant the weekend was almost near, so partying was standard fare. Friday and Saturday nights were weekend nights, so partying was an obligation. Sundays were usually spent in recovery, while Mondays were reserved for denial - the weekend couldn't be over already. But Tuesday nights were usually spent doing the work that had been put off since the previous Tuesday night, meaning that Calhoun Avenue, where the Greek houses sat, were usually devoid of the standard debauchery for a single night.

There were few, of course, for which this didn't quite hold true.

"Damn it, Dunny," Mason cursed his partner as he watched the ping-pong ball bounce across the basement floor after ricocheting off of one of the plastic cups. "Seriously, I think I would have done better alone."

Donovan Groom looked hurt. Standing nearly six feet tall, Dunny was not a short guy. And yet, despite having a six-foot wingspan, he still managed to be just out of reach for almost every single shot, allowing the ping-pong ball to strike its target nearly every time. His dirty-blonde hair sculpted to perfection, it was obvious that Dunny had spent more time styling his hair than he had practicing his Pong game.

"Whatever," Dunny replied to his partner. "It's not like they didn't sink a ball on your watch."

Mason looked at his friend in disbelief. "Dunny, there were SIX cups out there. Jessa sunk ONE fucking ball on me. Every other hit or sink that they got was on you." Mason put his paddle down and headed away from the pong table to the bar. Despite the fact that he'd just downed three beers because of Dunny's poor playing, Mason wanted more.

Mason himself was a big guy, standing 6'5" and weighing close to 240 pounds, all muscle. He had close-cropped brown hair, just enough to look good, but yet not enough that it needed to be awarded any special attention. The stubble on his face echoed the same relaxed attitude that the rest of appearance demonstrated - Mason didn't make any attempt to look good. It was all natural.

"You know, you should give him break," Jessa West said to Mason from the far side of the pong table. Every word she spoke carried a slight country twang; born and raised in Tallahassee, Jessa was the quintessential Southern belle. She was a little short, but what she lacked in height she made up for in other ways, with her beautiful smile, her bright-blue eyes, her ample breasts, or her chin-length, baby blonde hair. Jessa had been born a debutante, and here at Green, she had followed through on that image by pledging Epsilon Chi - the richest, snootiest, and hands-down most attractive sorority on campus. "After all, it's probably not his fault. It's not like Dunny is bad at pong..."

"It's just that we're so damn good," Cat McIntyre finished the thought.

Originally from Big Apple, Nebraska, Catherine Candace McIntyre had come a long way to go to college. Very few people in her high school's graduating class had even made it into college, let alone one in New England, let alone one as elite as Green College. She was tall, taller than most girls, with long brown hair that was currently just up in a ponytail. With deep brown eyes, a good personality, and C-cup breasts, Cat was definitely attractive, even if she was a bit on the skinny side. She had roomed with Jessa her freshman year, when they'd been stuck in a one room triple (because of the housing crunch) in Eisenhower Hall, but had gone a different way than the blonde. Instead of rushing, Cat had dedicated herself to Green's track team, and become one the most up-and-coming hurdlers in the Northeast. Still, Cat and Jessa had stayed good friends, still hung out together, and occasionally beat TriGam brothers at Pong in their own basement.

"Pong is NOT Beirut," Mason constantly lectured his friends when they came up to visit. Unlike Cat (from Nebraska), Jessa (from Florida), or Dunny (from San Diego), Mason was only a short drive home. His Maine accent was still fairly strong, but it was always put to shame when his "boys" came out to visit. Cat had heard him lecture his friends from home dozens of times about Pong - it was not Beirut.

Maybe it was just a Green College thing. While Beirut involved tossing a ball into beer cups, Pong was more like an actual game of ping-pong, paddles and all. Strokes were limited to under-hand only, and the point of the game was to get your opponent to drink, more than anything else. Six cups, full of beer, were set up on either side of the table, in a triangular array. If your cup was hit at any point during the game, the punishment was to drink half the cup. If the ball actually landed IN the cup, it was to drink the whole thing. If the ball bounced off the table or even missed the table completely, it didn't matter - the point of the game was the beer. Cat knew the game - they all did; Pong was as much a part of Green College as was the school song.

"Switch partners with me," Mason begged the two girls. He didn't care which one accepted his offer - he just knew that there was little chance of winning with Dunny on his time. He was still behind the bar.

"No way," Jessa replied. "We know a good thing when we have it."

Mason quickly downed another beer, and immediately refilled it at the tap. They had just finished one game of Pong, with the girls clearly wiping the floor with the two TriGam brothers. In their own basement, no less.

"Besides," Cat said, lying her paddle down on the table, "I think I'm going to get home and finish that history paper that I've got."

All three jeered her at once. "Oh come on, Cat," Mason replied. "That's not due until Friday." Mason was actually in that particular history class with her, and had stressed again and again that evening that he hadn't started the research yet, and didn't plan on starting the research until Thursday. They sat together every class, Mason half-sleeping throughout the lecture and then stealing Cat's notes afterwards. They were good friends, having met during matriculation, when MacNeill and "MacIntyre" (the College had misspelled Cat's last name that morning) were seated next to each other. And Cat would have been lying if she said she hadn't thought about him in a more-than-friends-type way. But there was tension between Jessa and Mason, and Cat didn't want to get in the way of their possibly budding romance.

"Besides, it was about to get interesting," said Jessa cryptically.

Cat glanced at her friend, trying to make out what she meant. "Fine," she replied, her curiosity piqued. "I can stay around to beat the pants of these guys one more time."

All four, having just finished playing the first game of pong that night, already had a slight buzz going by midnight. This helped, ultimately, in the proposal that Jessa brought up.

"So," Jessa said, getting the attention of the other three. "What do you say we play for something a little more exciting?"

"More exciting than beer?" Dunny asked, in mock disbelief.

"Yeah, well," Jessa smiled at both her teammate and her opponents, "since we've already kicked your ass, how about we see your ass...."

Mason was confused. "What?"

"Strip pong, stupid," Jessa replied.

Immediately, the two men were hooked on the idea. After all, if they lost, they'd be naked in their own home. If they won, they'd be in the presence of two young, gorgeous, naked girls.

Cat, though, was the one that needed convincing. "I don't know," she started, "couldn't we just play for money or some sort of dare or something?"

Jessa looked at her partner skeptically, and then pulled her aside. She began whispering to her, "Come on, Cat, we've already beaten them once. You've seen how lousy Dunny is at this game - they don't stand a chance."

Cat still didn't look convinced.

"This is going to be one of those nights that you look back on twenty years from now, and absolutely cherish. You're young, you're single, you're the most attractive you'll ever be. Besides, it's college!"

Cat still wasn't sure.

"Think about it," Jessa said, leaning in and raising an eyebrow, "have you ever actually lost a game of Pong to Dunny before?"

Cat knew Jessa was right. While Mason was a fairly decent Pong player, Dunny was horrid. Cat actually couldn't understand how someone who lived in a frat house, with 24/7 access to the Pong tables, could be that bad at Pong.

Jessa's first point was the one that hit home, though. It WAS college after all. It was the time for crazy stuff like this to happen, and be okay. It wasn't like she was prancing around naked at her job, or anything like that.

Cat nodded. "Sure," she said, "I'm in."

Cat and Jessa both turned and came back to the Pong table. Mason had returned from the bar, six cups of beer already in hand.

"What are the rules?" he asked after the girls had come back from their mini-conference.

"Well, we have six cups, right?" Jessa said. "What if both members of each team strip of one article of clothing every time there's a sink?"

"What about hits?" Mason asked.

"Um...in the event of a hit, only one member of each team has to take something off."

"Wait," Dunny said, the wheels in his head clearly turning. "If there are only six cups, I could theoretically take off both my shoes, both my socks, and both my shirts and still be wearing my pants and underwear."

"Let's count shoes and socks as one item," Jessa returned. "Each person has five articles of clothes, and they have to go in the right order. For the Cat and I, we need to take off shoes and...Wait, neither of us is wearing socks." Both girls were wearing flip-flops.

"Well, we're counting shoes and socks as one item anyways, right?" Mason cut in.

"Yeah," Jessa replied, shooting him a look. "I was just observing. Anyways, for the ladies, item one will be shoes. Item two will be shirts. Item three is pants for Cat, a skirt for me. Item four is the bra. Item five," Jessa said as she looked wickedly at Mason, "are the panties."

Cat gulped. She really didn't want to think about taking off her underwear in the TriGam basement. They HAD beaten the guys the previous time by a fairly sizable margin, so she hoped it wouldn't come to that.

"For the gentleman," Jessa continued, "and, pay attention Dunny, this is going to be more important for you two than for us - item one is shoes. Item two is...."

Dunny was wearing a red button-down shirt over a brown undershirt. Mason, though, was only wearing a green t-shirt. That made things a little tougher, but Cat piped in when she realized what Jessa was stuck on.

"Item two is one of Dunny's shirts or Mason's belt."

"Fine, that works," Jessa said. "Item three is Dunny's other shirt or Mason's t-shirt. Item four is pants. Item five, my good men, is your underwear - boxers OR briefs."

Mason looked at the cups, and then back at Jessa. "Hey, uh, Jessa? Isn't Pong usually played with six cups, not five?"

"Well, let's make it five cups, then?" Jessa responded, not having taken that into account.

"What if the first two hits, or the first sink, are warnings?" Cat put forth. That would give her a little extra time before she needed to start showing skin.

"I can live with that," Mason replied.

"Fine, one extra cup," Jessa agreed. "Let's go!"

Suddenly, Cat felt the pressure of actually having to get naked. They HAD to win.

Jessa picked up her paddle after arranging the cups. She was about to serve, but then stopped. "Wait, so what happens at the end?"

"We all degenerate into an orgy," Dunny said, matter-of-factly.

"Funny," Jessa countered. "No seriously, what happens? I mean, once we've stripped the last one of you two out of his boxers, can you just put them back on? Because, well, that's kind of disappointing."

"So what do you propose?" Mason shot back.

"A half hour. After the game's done, we spend a half hour down here, hanging out with you guys while you serve us beers in the nude."

Cat looked at her friend in disbelief, whining, "Jessa, that's not gonna be cool if that's us..."

Jessa smiled at the boys. "Don't worry, Cat, it won't be."

The game didn't start off well for Jessa and Cat. In fact, Jessa hit the guys' cup on her serve.

"Shit," she said, picking up one of her own cups and drinking half of it. Though not terribly complex, Pong still had its rules. Any hit or sink on the serve didn't count, and the server was actually penalized for it. Cat cringed as she watched Jessa down half the cup - she didn't want this trend to continue.

After she drank the beer and placed the half-full cup back into its assigned spot. Jessa served again, and this time was lucky enough to start a volley - a volley that ended with Cat sinking the ball in one of guys' cups. As Mason chugged the beer, Cat was already starting to get optimistic. That was the guys' warning. From here on in, they'd be starting their strip show.

Mason served. The ball bounced back and forth a few time until Cat again sunk the ball after a short volley. This game had started off better than she had hoped, and much, much better than she had feared.

Both Dunny and Mason stepped out of their shoes and socks. Mason just kicked his shoes off, and then bent over to remove his socks and shove them inside. Dunny had to sit down and untie his sneakers. After his socks were off, he stood barefoot on the floor and grimaced.

"Dude, it's clear we didn't think this through," Dunny said, demonstrating the fact that his right foot was sticking to the floor. Anyone who has ever spent any time in any fraternity basement knows better than to go barefoot.

"Yeah," Mason answered. He himself was standing in a puddle. Tonight, since they were the only ones down here, he could be sure the puddle was just beer. Any other night, though, it could be one of any number of substances. Collectively, it was all referred to as simply "mung" at Green College.

Dunny chugged the beer that Cat had hid, tossing the empty cup into the trash. He was about to serve the ball when Jessa stopped him.

"First things first, boys," gesturing to their shoes. "I believe that those shoes now belong to us."

Dunny and Mason looked at each other and just shrugged. They handed their shoes to Jessa, who tossed them up onto the bar, which ran parallel to their pong table. Once she was ready, they got going again.

This time, though, Mason got a hit. Cat chugged half the beer, knowing that their warning shots were over with. "God damn," she thought to herself, "Why did I let Jessa talk me into this?" The beer was starting to take hold, though, so she was getting a little less nervous.

The next hit belonged to Jessa, and as Mason drank half the beer, Dunny unbuttoned his first shirt. He tossed it to Cat and readied himself for another volley. Cat just tossed it on the bar, on top of the shoes.

"Did he just wink at me?" Cat asked herself, looking down the table at Dunny. She shuddered at the thought. It wasn't that Dunny was unattractive, because he actually was a good-looking guy. It was just that Cat definitely would have picked Mason, if she could have had her choice. But Mason's eyes were clearly on Jessa, and Jessa's were clearly on Mason. Dunny was more of a sidekick, though he hated it when the girls teased him with the title. But he was always there, with Mason, doing whatever Mason was doing.

"Why can't Mason be MY sidekick?" Dunny had asked one of the first few times Cat's friend Yvette had teased him. Anyone who had been within earshot of the question had laughed; Mason was clearly the dream-guy - and Dunny was the comic relief, or the best friend who stuck with the hero through thick or thin, or the guy who got killed within the first five minutes of a movie, giving the hero a lust for vengeance.

But with Mason's attention occupied with Jessa, Dunny's was free to wander. And, unfortunately, Cat was the only other girl in the basement that night for his attention to wander to.

The following hit went to the girls, as well. This time, Dunny drank while Mason undid his belt. The big-buckled cowboy belt was added to growing pile of shoes, socks, and Dunny's shirt next to the Pong table. It didn't look good for the guys.

The next hit was Cat's, and as she and Jessa celebrated, Mason pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing the first skin of the game. Cat tried hard not to stare at his muscular physique, but she was impressed. Jessa was as well; Cat could practically see her salivating. The girls had started a good streak - Mason was already down to his pants and boxers, and the girls hadn't taken off a single article of clothing.

This changed, though. Mason immediately sunk a ball on the next volley, costing the girls their sandals. Dunny gestured with his finger, and the girls tossed the sandals up onto the bar. Cat drank half the cup, and Jessa drank the other. Now the game was getting serious. If the girls let their guard down for a second, at least one of them was going to be stripping something off.

The ball bounced back and forth a few times, until Mason managed put the ball across with just enough speed that Jessa missed her chance to stop it. The ball struck a cup on the side, and Cat knew this was it.

She looked at Jessa. "This is your game, you go first."

Jessa didn't argue with Cat. She just set her jaw, reached to her waist, and pulled the white tank top over her head. Under it, she was wearing a lacy, purple bra that barely contained her sizable chest. Cat drank the half-cup of beer.

"Ogle all you want, boys," Jessa teased, sexily adjusting the cups of her bra for her audience. "I plan on doing the same when you're serving us beer."

Mason laughed, waiting for the ball. As Jessa got ready, she smiled at Mason, and said, "I hope you boys are going to be able to play okay, you know, with the distractions and all..."

She served, and a long volley started. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Cat's emotions went this way and that, getting excited when it looked like she was going to hit one of the guys' cups, and cringing in fear when the ball bounced back onto the girls' side. The volley eventually ended, though, when Mason sunk the ball in a cup right in front of Cat.

Suddenly, the game didn't look as good as it had been.

As the guys celebrated, Cat begrudgingly took off her tank top. She didn't complain though, because she knew she had no grounds - Jessa was stepping out of her skirt. They took turns finishing the beer, and added the tank top and the skirt to the pile of clothes on the end of the bar.

Things were now evened up, each team with two and half cups of beer left. Mason was wearing only his jeans and underwear while Dunny was still dressed in his shorts, boxers, and undershirt. On the girls' side, Cat still had her tight black pants on, in addition to her panties underneath and her black bra that was out in the open now. Jessa, though, was down to just her purple bra and matching purple panties. They were a matching set, very lacy, and held both Mason and Dunny enraptured while the girls finished the beer.

Jessa didn't seem phased, though. "Come on, Cat, we're all evened up. Let's finish this off and see some penis." She winked at Mason, and then slapped her own ass. Mason was clearly stunned, because the ball bounced on the table and hit him smack in the chest, without him even taking a swing at the ball.

After a short volley back and forth, Jessa eventually sunk the ball. The girls began to celebrate, because a sink would mean both guys had to take off clothes, and Mason would be down to his underwear.

Mason, though, wasn't budging. Dunny took off his shirt, revealing a fairly muscular chest underneath, but Mason wasn't doing anything.