Run Like The Wind

My brother Richard and I were raised apart after the age of 7. Sometimes though, we did spend a week here and there together, every other year or so. During one of those visits when were teens, I had quick-friended a neighborhood girl, whom he had a crush on.

One day, while my dad was at work, Richard and some of his friends, talked us two girls into playing strip poker. Unbeknownst to them, before the game started, we quietly put on six pair of socks, three training bras, and anything else we could think of that wasn't too obvious.

I'm no genius, but one of my idiot savant talents is that I'm a bit of a card shark. Within the hour, three teenaged boys sat awkwardly naked in front of us.

Sensing I had a couple of "soft players" on my hands, I pulled a twenty out of the last 28AA sized bra I was wearing, and threw it into the pot. The hitch was that if I lost, they would all have to run out the front door, all the way to the mailbox, touch it, and run back inside.

One miraculous "flush" later, they were streaking through the front yard, too absorbed with the worry of being seen, that they didn't hear the front door's master lock slide closed behind them.