Life as a good little girl/Getting it on seems to mean the boys showing off for the girls while you handle their balls for them
From Create Your Own Story
"I'll keep score. Stephi, you handle their balls for them," Tiffany tells you, and settles herself at a table that looks like a school desk.
"What?" is all you can say.
"Yeah, she can handle my balls anytime," the greasy guys leers.
The tallest smacks his shoulder. "Cut it out, Jason. I'm Sam, by the way," he says with a dazzling white smile.
"H-hi," you stammer.
"I'm up first!" one of the others yells enthusiastically, rushing forward like there's a competition.
"Yeah yeah, Dave. Whatever," Sam says with a roll of his eyes.
"Hey!" Tiff snaps, making everyone jump and freezing Dave in his tracks. Or at least after he slides a foot. "Stephi's handling the balls. Stephi, it's your job to serve the boys."
"Y... ow!" Jason rubs his shoulder.
"Serve?"
"Give them their balls," Tiffany says slowly, like you're a little dumb. You flush, but nod eagerly and rush over to the machine where you stare at the big heavy balls, wondering which one to give him.
"Ball overload..." Jason snickers.
"Stephi," Dave says, and places his hand on your shoulder. You jump a little, but his hand doesn't move. His other hand points at a shiny green ball with a swirly pattern.
"Ooh, pretty," you say, then blush a little. Now they'll really think you're just a little girl. You bend down hastily to pick it up, Dave's hand leaving your shoulder at the motion.
"Make sure her itty bitty sarong doesn't get caught in the machine," Tiff calls out sweetly, and winks when you look at her. A moment later you feel your sarong shift and gasp, turning back to look at Dave, who lightly holds your sarong away from the machine. Thankfully you're pointed toward the machine and the guys can't see a thing because of the balls between you and them.
"The ball, Stephi. Remember, it's the green one," Dave reminds you, his eyes sparkling a little with humor.
"Uh. Right," you say, reaching over to the boys, glancing over at the boys as you do so. They're mostly just talking amongst themselves, almost as if there wasn't a girl who was basically naked near them. You find yourself both re-assured and a little miffed at that. Do they see you as just a little kid? You sure don't see them as little boys, not with those muscles.
"I know you like fondling balls, Stephi, but give him the ball already," Tiff urges, snapping you out of your thoughts. You blush a little and bend over the ball. It takes you two tries to lift it. Having never bowled you were expecting something like a basketball for weight, and the first time you try to lift it the ball doesn't budge.
"Sorry guys, she's just a weak little girl."
"I... I'm not just a weak little girl," you protest with a huff, lifting the ball with an effort.
"Alright, a weak young woman. I mean, she's been a woman in the meaningful sense for a lo-o-o-ng time. Right Stephi?" Tiffany says with a meaningful wink at the boys. They laugh almost dutifully, though Jason's eyes widen as if with some understanding as he looks you up and down more intently. You're not sure what that's about, but you'd rather be called a young woman than a little girl so you decide that from now on you need to avoid doing anything that would challenge that idea.
"Sure am," you agree, and present the ball to Dave. The chiffon lightly falling against your thigh reminds you that he'd been holding it, startling you a little. You'd forgotten about that for a moment, but your resolve to not act like a little girl makes you smile instead of blush.
"Thanks, Stephi," he says, clapping you on the back of the shoulder before stepping out to the middle of the floor. You don't know if he looks professional as he sends the ball rolling down the alley, but he knocks almost everything down.
"Great shot, Dave! You got all but two of the... You almost got them all," you tell him enthusiastically.
Dave grins a little sheepishly. "Almost, but I've got a split. It'll be hard knocking those two pins down.
"Well, right. But you can do it," you tell him, not wanting to let on that you're not sure how hard it would be, or even what a pin is, or how many attempts he got. "So, which ball do you want?"
Dave finishes his attempt and the next guy, Brad comes up. Like Dave he puts a hand on your shoulder and inspects the balls before pointing out the one he wants.
"Oh wait a sec. Let me hold your sarong out of the way for you," he says, pulling the light fabric away from your body. You gulp but try not to act immature by protesting or acting embarrassed and lift up another one of the extremely heavy balls.
"Thanks, Stephi," he says, taking the ball and dropping your sarong so he can give you a pat on the back. He doesn't knock down as many pins as Dave did on his first shot, but he knocks the rest down on his second.
"Spare!" he cries out, putting his arms out and making motions to the guys like they're supposed to applaud. Turning away from them and back to you he raises his hands for a high five. With your height difference it's a very high five, but you gamely jump as high as you can. He lowers his hands to meet yours and you land lightly on your feet, a moment later feeling the almost weightless chiffon sarong settle back down below your waist. For a moment you freeze, realizing you just flashed them all your bald little pussy, and stare at Tiffany.
"Slut," she mouths, and winks, so you nod back at her.
When Jason comes up you brace yourself, expecting him to do something repellent, but although his hand dips a little lower than the others the only other difference is that he pulls harder on the Sarong so that reaching his ball means stretching the fabric a little. Other than that his round goes smoothly, at least for you. For him he doesn't manage to knock all the pins down, and looks a little sullen as the guys rib him about it.
Steve comes up next. He isn't as much of a hunk as Sam, but he's got a really charming smile - with dimples, even - and his blonde hair falls to his shoulders. He does the same thing as the others, and like Brad he gives you a high five. This time you know that it'll expose your crotch to the boys, but for some reason you try to jump even higher, and your legs spread a little during the jump. Their cheers - for Steve, of course - make you flush and you turn away from them quickly, even though it means showing them your uncovered rear-end.
The handsome heart-throb Sam comes up next and gives you a smile. "Hey pretty lady," he greets you, his hand rubbing your shoulder. You practically purr beneath it, even arching your back a little. Tiffany snickers, but your attention is all on the muscular boy beside you. He's big enough that he could be menacing if he wanted, but instead he politely points out the ball he wants. You make sure to keep your legs straight and bend lower than usual, holding the position for a few seconds.
"Coughslutcough," Tiffany chokes out.
Straightening slowly with the chosen ball you turn toward him, which means you're facing Tiffany, with the boys off to her side. He reaches out to take the ball, dropping the sarong as he grabs hold. Your hand swiftly catches the light fabric before it can fall and put a hand on the ball. "Oh," you coo. "It looks a little smudged. Let me wipe that for you."
Tiffany stares with wide eyes as you wipe the ball, holding your sarong up at chest level in order to give Sam a good long look at your crotch if he wants to. Unfortunately he seems appreciative of your efforts to clean the ball, not noticing your greater efforts to get him to see your pussy. He turns away to the alley, leaving you with your sarong at chest level for a moment, downcast by his inattentiveness.
"Nice cunt," Tiffany mouths, grinning from ear to ear as she briefly points a finger. Your eyes widen as your fingers start to release the fabric.
"Strike!" Sam cries out, and before you can release the fabric he enfolds you in a hug, trapping the sarong between you and him. You forget all about it as you feel his hard muscles pressed up against you. With the height difference your face presses against his stomach and lower chest while your stomach presses against his crotch. Without thinking you press your belly forward, thinking about the muscle located down there and hoping to catch a feel of it. Unfortunately he pulls away before you can feel anything, giving your lower back a few pats as he goes on the get congratulations from the boys.
It isn't until Dave comes eagerly forward that you remember to drop the sarong. He catches it before it falls, holding it in his right hand, and looks down at you. No, at the balls, which you are standing right beside. It takes him a long moment to decide which he wants, but otherwise his round goes similar to the one before. The same is true of the other boys, though their hands do lower a bit.
During the fourth round things change even more. Brad steps forward and you dutifully wait for him to scoop your sarong out of the way. While doing so he reaches forward a little too much and for a brief moment you feel a big finger press against you little clit. Your breath freezes, and you mechanically hand him the ball he wants, cleaning it and holding up your sarong while he bowls, dropping it just in time for him to repeat the process. Except that this time he doesn't touch you at all. You stare at him a moment, as if disappointed, then shake it off and give him his balls.
Jason comes up next and then Steve, but it isn't until your dream guy Sam is in front of you that it happens again. This time the finger is under the Sarong and it presses harder and longer, nearly making your legs collapse beneath you, but you somehow stay on your feet, breathing harder and having a hard time focussing on which ball you're supposed to give him.
Over the next few rounds it happens again and again. Not every time, and the touches range from grazes to firm presses to slit-long strokes, but you find yourself holding your sarong slightly above your pussy as if offering them full access. Especially Sam, whose finger eventually presses right into your hot little hole, making your legs go rubbery beneath you. It's only his big hand clamped firmly on your naked buttock that keeps you upright.
High fives for spares and strikes are a thing of the past by that points. Your arms feel weak from lifting the balls, and your legs feel almost too wobbly for you to stand. Good thing the boys helpfully cup your ass each time they stand near you, helping you stay upright. Tiffany giggles nearly non-stop, but you only have eyes for the guys. The congratulations switch to long hugs, with you finding that they definitely have strong muscles down below the waist. Dave's is especially astonishing, feeling like a weight-lifter's arm for width, while Sam feels extra long.
Dazed by the stimulation you go almost automatically through the motions, and at some point they stop rotating the ball when you wipe it, making you reach between the ball and themselves. This just makes the back of your hand rub firmly against their crotches, giving you an even better sense of how each one is built as they all come to life.
Their scores tank, and somehow just throwing a third ball becomes a feat worthy of a long hug. It isn't until the game is over that you realize you've spent the last two rounds wiping the ball without the sarong, which lies on the ground under Tiffany's table.
"So, what now?" Sam asks, his eyes going up and down your body like the others. Your legs fail you and you perch on the end of the ball machine, your legs spread and trembling as they stare at your crotch.
"Why don't you all play with Stephi?" Tiff suggests innocently.
