Message-ID: <32303asstr$999303002@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <200108312014.f7VKE57X024321@fozzie.webservepro.com> From: jimmy@jimmy-hat.com (Jimmy Hat) X-No-Productlinks: Yes X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Fri, 31 Aug 2001 20:14:05 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Betting on Nine Ball 2/2 (mast exhib) Date: Fri, 31 Aug 2001 20:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: hecate, kelly, gill-bates Ken almost licked his lips in anticipation. He didn't know what these two had going on, but he had seen couples do crazier things in this bar. She certainly seemed to like flaunting it in front of this guy, and yet Gerry just sat there and took it. Didn't matter much to Ken, as long as he got to see more of those curves. He racked and broke. Maytag seemed on the verge of a rally. After Ken broke, nine balls still stood on the table. Maytag sank one, two, and three as if he had learned something from his opponent. He missed the next shot, though, in an attempt to drown the nine ball. Ken looked ready to pounce. "I want to get a better look at this," Stanton said. She stood up from her stool and walked to the table. Bounced was more like it. She jiggled on the way over and made quite a show of leaning over the table. "That still looks like a tough shot," she said. Then she slowly made her way back to the chair. The polka dot panties had a Brazilian back, or a half width bottom. They covered a good deal of her round ass, but ended just where the curve of the cheek was greatest. The garment fought a losing battle to remain there, and started to ride up her ass as Stanton's hips swayed on the journey back to her seat. "We're waiting," Maytag said. "Yeah," Ken said. But Stanton's ploy worked. He missed the shot. Maytag was left with a clean shot at the four. Next, he solidly hit the five, but the orange ball bounced around the jaws of the pocket. It was back to Ken. Ken drained the five ball, but Stanton had another distraction for him. She started to suck a piece of ice and made quite a bit of noise doing it. When Ken flubbed the stroke, he shot a look at Stanton. She only smiled at him and licked the ice cube. Ken chose to blame his cue rather than the minx in the polka dot bottoms, and made a Freudian show of chalking the tip. "My turn," Maytag said. He pocketed the six, and left the cue in a fine position for the next ball. Maytag walked around the table and sank the seven. He eyed up a tough cut shot on the eight. "Tough shot, Gerry," Ken said. He wasn't above psychological games either. "Think you can make that eight ball?" "All signs point to yes," Maytag said as he stroked the stick against the cue ball. The white ball glanced off the black, and sent the eight rolling to the corner. Stanton clapped. "Didn't know you could do that," she said. Maytag shrugged. His work wasn't done yet. The nine sat far across the table, up against the end rail. With no other option, he aimed to kiss it and send it lightly to the corner. The cue hit the ball too squarely; it only managed to rattle it off the rail. The cue stopped behind it, leaving an easy shot. "Thank you very much," Ken said. He stood and raced to the table. He couldn't escape Stanton's last effort though, and it was a good one. "Did it get colder in here, or is it just me?" Her nipples stood straight out of her shirt, like rasberries trapped between skin and cloth. She must have used the ice, Ken thought. Then the brunette stood and wrapped her arms under her breasts, shoving them up and almost out of the scoop neck top. "Gives me the shivers," she cooed. The balls were aligned too perfectly, though. Ken sank it, even with one eye on Stanton's tits. "Ha!" he said. "Looks like you owe me an article of clothing." "I guess I do," Stanton said. "Can I get a little help taking it off?" "Absolutely," Ken said. He let the cue stick fall and moved toward her to claim the spoils of victory. He wanted to see that fine ass completely bare. "What makes you think I need your help?" Stanton asked. Ken's jaw dropped. So this really was just some sort of game between the two of them. Then he looked at the other guy and saw that Maytag was just as surprised. "Stanton," Maytag said, "I think maybe you've been drinking too much." "Don't get your hopes up either, Maytag. Hey, Donna!" The cocktail waitress looked up from her station. "Yeah!" "C'mere a second!" Stanton yelled. She bent over to take something from her jeans. Ken thought again how good it would be to see that ass naked. "Looks like you've been had," Maytag said. "You, too, pal," Ken replied. "Aww," Stanton said, turning round to face them again. "Don't be such babies." She stuck a pacifier into each of their mouths. "Rrt da fff?" Ken asked. Maytag spit the rubber mouth plug out. "I hate infantilism." Donna was on the scene by then. "Donna," Stanton asked as she hooked her thumb in her panties. "Would you mind taking these off?" "Not at all, sugar," Donna said. Stanton took a step away from the guys and turned away. Donna knelt in front of her and took an inordinate amount of time to peel off the panties. Stanton stepped out of them, and looked back over her shoulder. "Be a dear and gather my clothes, Maytag. I'll see you in the morning." Then, naked but for her top, she walked arm in arm with Donna out of the bar. "At least I got to see her ass," Ken said. "Not bad, huh, Gerry?" He turned to face Maytag, who was busy taking off his own pants. "What the hell is this?!" Ken cried. "If Stanton kept her end of the bet, I can, too." Ken just shook his head. "This is not what I had in mind when I started this thing." TWO Stanton lay spread eagled on the hotel bed. Her nipples stood straight and firm, and her breasts heaved with every irregular breath brought on by pleasure. Her pussy lips glistened with wet arousal, the juicy flesh of pink fruit surrounded by puffy white skin shaved free of hair. A hand draped over the wiry bush of dark pubic hair nestled just above that slit. Fingers reached out from the hand and plunged inside the sopping hole, a thumb twiddled the erect nub of flesh poking against a small hood of skin. Those were Stanton's own fingers getting her off, but she was fantasizing they were someone else's. Donna's fingers would have been nice. The opportunity was there. The waitress had thrown her apron around Stanton to at least cover her pubes. And they collapsed against each other laughing when they walked out of the hotel bar. When Stanton made a move to kiss her though, Donna backed away. The brunette didn't usually take no for an answer very well, but given that she might have been swimming against the current, so to speak, she let it go and headed to her room. She was turned on, though, and already half naked. Stretching out for a little stroking off seemed a perfect way to ease her mind. No rejection in masturbation. Then there was Ken. Cocky, arrogant Ken. She was not about to give him the satisfaction of winning, but she knew she had missed out no one there. Those self confident guys had a way of being the best lays, though. And he certainly was smooth with that cue stick. But Maytag was there, and the bet maybe killed the mood. Another lost opportunity. One of these days, she was going to have to do it on a pool table. "Heather, you are such a ho," she thought. She imagined herself flat against the smooth green felt, with Ken's beefy cock delving inside her. She pushed two fingers far inside her and gave a swirl to simulate his motion. It would feel just like this, his dick. Or maybe nasty pool shark Ken would use the butt end of his cue stick instead. The thought broke over Stanton like a thunder cloud. Her shoulders rolled and her toes curled with orgasm, as the image of Ken fucking her with a cue stick flooded her senses. "Mmm," she moaned. "such a ho." * * * With the buzz as background noise, Donna thought about that woman from the bar: long dark hair, fair skin, impossibly blue eyes. She was a looker, all right. It was amazing that she turned down Ken. Then Donna saw what the other guy looked like without his shirt on, and he started to look like a fine way to spend the night. But the brunette left with her. She had a nice body, too. Legs shaped by exercise, not starvation. A trim little waist. When she walked away from the bar, wearing only that tank top and an apron, Donna could see she had a neat ass, too. Even those little dimples on either side of the base of her spine. It was trashy to walk around in just that, something a ho might do, but Donna admired her confidence. Maybe she shouldn't have moved back when the brunette tried to kiss her. Donna could have shown the same kind of confidence and just gone with the flow. As her vibrator hummed away, Donna thought about that. Just a little bit of confidence. Maybe she could play Ken in a game of pool the next time she saw him. Donna thought about Ken a little more, she increased the speed on the vibrator by a notch. Then two. * * * "Two!" Ken thought. "I could have had two if I played that right." Just the thought of him in the middle of a Donna and Heather sandwich made the head of his dick swell up with enthusiasm. He squeezed the base of his cock tight and treated it to short deliberate jerks. The way those two bitches walked out of there holding on to each other made him want to spooge. Ken bit down on the pacifier just to relieve the tension. The rubber was soft and pliant in his mouth, and he could suck on it as he stroked. "You know," he thought about the pacifier, "I could get into this fucking thing." But those fucking lezzie skanks leaving that bar together, that drove him nuts. He pictured them in a sixty nine, with their faces buried deep in muff. He put Heather on top with her sweet ass out in the air. She had a rump, that one. If he came up on that, he would just stick it right there, let Donna lick his balls while he slapped up against that ass. Maybe he'd let them take turns sucking his dick first. But then, yeah, for sure, he'd be giving it to Heather from the back while the hos licked each other senseless. Then when it was time to shoot his wad, he would pull out and splash that fine fucking ass, and let it dribble down onto Donna's face. "Urnh," Ken grunted through the pacifier. His prick shot a stream of hot cum around his navel. He stroked his dick hard, and drained every last drip of jizz from its length. Ken took one last sniff of quim from the polka dot panties, and then wiped himself clean with them. He sure hoped that other dude Gerry hadn't seen him snatch the panties from the pile. "Whatever happened to that guy anyway?" * * * Standing in his underwear, Maytag took a firm hold of the wood and stroked. Not exactly what he wanted, but not bad. "Hey, pal," the bartender yelled. "We're closing up!" "Right," Maytag said. What a shame. All he wanted was a few more practice shots on the table. Now he was going to have to spend the whole night thinking about his missed chances at nine ball. END ---------------------------------------------------------------------- I hope you enjoyed that, and I'd love to hear your comments. There is an anonymous e-mail form (and more stories) at http://www.jimmy-hat.com , or you can mail me directly at jimmy@jimmy-hat.com Anyone wishing to charge fees for access to this material, through any media or publication, must receive the written permission of Jimmy Hat. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+