Balls

Balls

The patrons of the Balls Pool Emporium are a gruff crowd of factory workers and warehousemen, occasionally mixed with drifting hustlers.  Tom and Ellen Carson have just invested in refurbishing the old place and reopened it.

On this particular Tuesday night only three drifters, Zeta, Fred and Sam are sitting at the bar.  It’s been a lucrative night; Tom just finished counting the take and is very happy.  Both Ellen and Zeta look and are dressed like hookers, Ellen to attract customers and Zeta to attract anyone. 

Ellen is playing by herself on one of the tables, Fred is watching her, Sam is sipping his scotch; Tom and Zeta are talking. 

Fred gets up and walks over to Ellen’s table.  “Betcha I kin sink da eight, wit no stick!”  The black ball is dead against the cushion and blocked by two other balls. 

She smiles, cocks her hip while leaning against the pool queue.  “The eight!  In which pocket?”

“Pick one!”  He smiles.

She points at the far corner pocket and laughs softly.

“You want me ta put dat eight ball in dat pocket, witout usin a stick?”

“No you said you could put it in any pocket and I picked that one!”

“Okay, but let’s make it interestin’!  Whatya bet?”  He lays a C note on the table.

“Okay, I know there’s a trick!”  She looks over at Tom who is now almost drooling all over Zeta.

“No tricks, I takes dat ball an put it in dat pocket!  If I do it, ya gotta pay me.”

“Pay you what?”

He paused and looks Ellen up and down, “Ya gives me a strip show!” He pointed at the top of the table.

She saw he was serious, and was wary but there was no way he could make that shot. 

“Is it a bet?”

“Honey is it a bet?” She looks again and sees her husband is not paying attention. She shouts out loud. “HONEY?”

He waves at her, “Yea, what ever you want!”

Angry and grinding her back teeth she says, “Okay, it’s a bet!”

Freddy walks over; with three fingers, gingerly lifts the eight ball, walks around her back to the other end of the table and drops the ball into the pocket.  Lifting his hundred off the table and pushing the other balls into pockets, “You ready to dance?”

“Oh no, you cheated and you lied, that was not…”

“I bet ya, I was gonna take dat black ball and put it in dat hole, did I not?”

“Yea… But…”

“I didn’t say how I was gonna do it, did I?  Now lets dance little lady!”

Ellen sees Tom with his nose almost penetrating Zeta’s cleavage.  She thinks ‘Fuck it, he deserves this!’ Turning to Fred, “Let’s go upstairs!”

Tom and Zeta are doing shots.  Tom is buzzed and his cock is aching as it strains against his tight pants.  Every time she laughs he sees her breast jiggle.

“Wanna touch’m?”  She takes his right hand, guides it into her loose blouse against her breast; he can feel the hard nipple against his palm.  “Oh, baby squeeze it, make me cry!” 

Tom didn’t notice Fred and his wife climbing the stairs as she leaned in a put a warm soft kiss on his lips. 

Fred put some money in the jukebox and Ellen kicked off her spikes as she climbs up on one of the tables.  “Just a dance, I don’t fuck around on Tom!”  She starts to gyrate to the beat. 

Tom locks the door and pours a double Black Label for Sam before he and Zeta move to the back room.  Zeta has unbuttoned her blouse and is massaging the bulge in Toms pants.  It takes less than two minutes and both are standing in a pile of clothes.  She is on her knees adding a polish to the tip of his manhood. 

Ellen is down to her halter-top and bikini briefs.  “You’re good babe!” He dropped the hundred on the table, “Make it a long dance.” 

A little guilty about doing this, but she wants to teach her husband a lesson.

Zeta is now bent over, sprawled face down on a table as Tom explores every curve of her body, she is in full arousal as he breeches her most sensitive folds and slick cavity.

Ellen is nude, and Fred is still laying down hundreds. 

Tom and Zeta are soaked in sweat as they both are about to reach their crescendo.  Moans of pleasure fill the empty back room and he groans loudly, hesitating his thrusts as he reaches his orgasm. 

Tom hears the Jukebox start again and is aware and embarrassed.  He pulls back. 

Meanwhile Ellen also realizes her stupidity and stops her gyrations.  She stands, watching as Fred grabs his money and runs for the stairs.  Nude, she can’t follow.

Zeta grabs her clothes and runs for the front door meeting Fred and Tom, who has the cashbox in hand they all exit the front door. 

Tom looks out front through the open doors and sees Ellen coming down the stairs in her bra and briefs.  “Guess that’s the fucking we get for the fucking we got!”

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