by Bridy McAvoy
He flicked on the light switch as he opened the door then continued to lead her by the hand down the carpeted stairs. The basement was as large as the ground floor of the house above, just as her own was. Hers, though, was full of boxes and junk, only one wall plastered to house the utility meters and the furnace, the stairs and rail bare, unpainted wood. His, though, had a plush, carpeted, gentle sloped staircase with a polished rail leading down to a room with a thick beige carpet, wall to wall, across the huge space. One side of the room was dominated by two couches arranged in a vee, facing what looked like a professional projection set-up. Next to that was a huge bar, complete with optics and what looked like a walk-in wine chiller, while to her right was a large—and again—professional-looking pool table with plenty of clear space around it. The cues in the rack looked immaculate too, as did the brown baize of the table top. She didn’t have to examine it to know it would be perfectly levelled. No chance of a ball rolling off line on that table.
“Impressive, Robert. Impressive, and expensive.”
“Do you play?” Robert had obviously caught her surveying the table.
She nodded and smiled.
“Good, then let’s play a couple of racks.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him, knowing she wasn’t dressed to play pool. She’d never do that in a skirt, let alone one this short, unless she expected her playing partner to… She felt the heat rising to her face as she realized that was exactly what this playing partner intended to do.
Robert laughed and shook his head. “We’ll just play a couple of racks, no hanky-panky. After that, maybe we’ll make the game more interesting with a wager or two.”
Angie nodded, realizing a straightforward game of pool, with no pressure on her, would help her to calm down, and would additionally allow the alcohol in the wine to work its magic on her system.
“Sure.”
He chuckled. “Why do I think you’re hustling me?”
She looked at him, trying for a wide-eyed innocent look. “Who…me? No, I don’t think so. After all, you’re the one with the pro standard table.”
Robert just shrugged. “I’m okay, and I’ve played a lot, but I’m not that good. Eight-ball or nine?”
She grinned. “Nine-ball for sure. I’ll even let you break, as it’s your table.”
“Ladies first. I insist.”
She put her hands on her hips, making sure not to spill what little wine remained in her glass. Red wine on this carpet would not be a good look. “What? So you can look up my dress? No, you break.”
Her faux stern look just brought a snort of laughter from him as he moved a small occasional table in the corner near the pool table and put the wine bottle and his glass on it. She walked around the table to put hers there and then stood watching as he opened a drawer under the table and extracted a good set of shiny balls to play nine-ball with. She guessed the drawer next to it held a similar set for eight-ball. For a moment she toyed with the idea of winding him up by changing her mind and demanding the other game, then decided against it. Although nine-ball frames tended to be quicker than eight-ball ones, it was the game she preferred. She surprised herself by having to admit she was starting to relax.
Robert didn’t waste a moment as he racked up the diamond of balls and then selected a cue from the rack and palmed the white ball.
“Competition rules?”
She shrugged. “If you mean three balls back across the head line on break, ball in hand for foul and alternate break, then sure, that’ll do me.”
He chuckled. It was obvious he’d picked up on the way her knowing what he’d meant had exposed her level of understanding of the game. “Well, yes, but I was also thinking about winner breaks.”
She shook her head. “Not if you want the kind of side bet I think you do. I could end up naked in no time flat.”
She tried to smile as she said it, but knew she’d scored a point. That had entirely been his intention. A little heat rose in her cheeks as she realized what that had sounded like, then turned to the side table and refilled her glass, attempting to cover her embarrassment. The crash of ball hitting the pack and the rumble as one fell, brought her attention back to the table as Robert broke off.
A quick glance confirmed the white, the six-ball, and the four-ball had all crossed the head line so the break was legal. Then she spotted the two and three balls were missing so he’d potted them both from the break, but left himself hampered by the four-ball and almost snookered on the one-ball by the eight.
“Nice break.”
“Thanks. Devil of a shot now, though.”
“Try a little left-hand English. You’ll knock it safe and take the white back up the table.”
He looked at her then dropped down to look at the shot. “I didn’t realize you were that good.”
She shrugged. “Did all right at college, but there’s no money in the pro game for women players.”
“You were that good?”
Angie smiled and shook her head. “Nah, just jerking your chain.”
“I bet. I still think you’re hustling me.”
Robert turned his attention back to the table and lined up a shot. The white just brushed the side of the one-ball which rocked and almost dropped back into place. The white, however, seemed to fizz off the bottom cushion and, with the left-hand English he’d put on the ball, it shot off at an angle, cannoning into the five-ball, hitting it full face and stopping dead.
“Damn!”
Robert’s curse echoed in the large space as Angie went over to the rack and took her time selecting a cue, knowing he’d lined the balls up almost perfectly for her. The one-ball was an easy shot and, as long as she got enough action on the cue ball, she could screw back up the table for the four-ball. The five had been nudged over the pocket and the six was nicely in the middle of the table, available in almost any pocket.
She checked the tip of the cue she’d selected then chalked it carefully before blowing the dust off the tip and moving around the table to line up her shot. She was conscious of the way Robert had moved to be on the same side of the table as her but she’d bent to the shot before she remembered she was wearing a short skirt and had just flashed him a lot of leg. She turned her head to look at him, caught him leering at her legs, and pouted at him.
“Naughty.”
“What?”
She shook her head in mock exasperation and lined up her shot. The one-ball hit the back of the pocket with a satisfying thump and, by hitting below the center of the ball, she’d screwed the white almost as far up the table as she’d tried to, lining up the four-ball for the top corner. Three shots later she was faced with a difficult seven and, rather than try a straight pot, decided to attempt a combination shot, cannoning the seven into the side rail with the white sliding off to hit the nine–ball, sending it toward the opposite corner pocket. The shot almost came off but, instead of dropping, the nine-ball lipped and stayed out, covering the pocket with a straightforward combination shot for Robert to hit the seven into the nine, pocketing the nine and winning the rack.
A few seconds later it was all over, the nine-ball rolling around in the bottom of the pocket as Robert straightened up and grinned at her.
“Pity that wasn’t for your dress.”
Angie frowned at him but knew he would know she was kidding on the square about it. They both knew where this game was supposed to go, and it had been Robert’s idea to play pool as a way of getting her to relax. For Angie, the big shock had come mid-way through the rack when she’d realized his plan was working and she didn’t actually mind, too much, him leering at her legs as she bent over for a shot.
“Rack ‘em up. My break.”
* * * *
Three racks later the score was tied at two racks each, and Angie had to admit he was a very skillful player. In fact, she thought he was so skillful he’d been manipulating the position of the white. Every time he couldn’t or didn’t pot a ball, it seemed the white was always left in such a position she had to s
tretch to reach her shot. Of course, when she did so, her skirt rode up, exposing one or both of her thighs above her stocking tops. Robert would, naturally, be in a position to take advantage of the view she offered him.
They took a break as Robert fetched another bottle of wine from behind the bar, despite there still being some left in the first bottle. Angie wasn’t sure, but she thought she’d drunk more than her fair share of what wine had been consumed.
“Trying to get me drunk?”
“No, not really. Vintage Merlot like this should breathe before it’s served. I reckon we’ll need this bottle in half an hour or so, and that’s about the right breathing time.”
“Sorry, didn’t realize you took your wine so seriously.”
“I take everything seriously, young lady, and speaking of which…”
“What?”
Angie tried to be coy, but knew Robert was about to turn the heat up a notch. From now on, she’d be playing for her clothes. She was also fairly sure he’d adjusted his game a little, playing down to her level rather than at his own. Not a lot, just enough to keep her interested in winning. As soon as her clothes were on the line, he’d turn it on, full strength, and she doubted she’d win many—if any—more racks.
“A little wager?”
“I didn’t bring any money with me.”
“I know. And you know what I meant.”
He chuckled and came up close to her. As he bent his head toward her she held her breath but didn’t turn her face away. She expected him to kiss her and this time she was ready to respond, unlike earlier in the family room upstairs. Robert, though, twisted his head sideways at the last second and planted a gentle peck on her cheek before moving away. She swallowed nervously then asked the question she knew he wanted her to, although she was already sure of the answer.
“What do you suggest then?”
He raised an eyebrow at her in sardonic query then answered. “This rack, you lose, you lose your dress.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Two reasons. First, it’s your break.”
“Okay, you can break.”
That took her back a bit but she continued. “And secondly, if it’s a wager, what are you putting up? It takes two to tango.”
“You want me to bet my clothes too?”
She shook her head. She knew she’d see him naked soon enough, but didn’t want to do so too soon. “No, not your clothes.”
“What then? Money?”
She thought about it for a minute. After all, she’d agreed to do all this because of money issues in the first place. “Why not?”
“How much?”
She thought for a moment then realized this gave her a way to prolong the whole thing.
“Let’s say fifty dollars a rack. I win, you pay fifty dollars. If you win, I pay you back the fifty dollars unless I haven’t got any money left. In that case I lose an item of clothing.”
She waited while Robert pondered that, then nodded his agreement. She thought of one more thing and gave that a try.
“An item of my choosing.”
He shook his head. “No, but we’ll meet in the middle there. You choose the first piece, and I choose the second and so on.”
“Agreed.”
“But shoes and stockings don’t count.”
She pouted at him. That had been her plan, but she knew she had to concede the point. “Okay.”
“And the game isn’t over ’til I say it is. You can’t drop out.”
“You mean you expect to play until I’m naked?”
“And beyond.”
Angie shuddered. She had a pretty good idea what he meant by beyond. “Right, rack ‘em up, big boy. Let’s play.”
The white clattered into the pack as hard as she’d intended and the balls split nicely with the five-ball dropping into the corner pocket.
“Foul!”
“What?”
“You only got two balls back across the head line.”
Angie rechecked the table and could see he was right. “Damn! I thought I’d nailed that one.”
“Nope. And its ball in hand I believe you called that at the start of the evening.”
She nodded, knowing she’d just handed him a huge advantage, then watched glumly as he picked up the white, replacing it on the table nicely lined up on the one-ball with enough angle to drop onto the two. The one clattered into the pocket and the two followed it a few seconds later. She thought he’d misjudged his white ball control as the three didn’t seem to be a simple shot but he sank it with ease, screwing back for the four into the same pocket. The six and seven followed in very short order and she could sense, with only two balls remaining she would be losing an item of clothing very shortly, although it was some small comfort she could choose which item—this time. Robert glanced up at her and grinned, his eyes dancing with anticipation as he lined up the eight ball, a straightforward roll in, and she shuddered then gasped as the eight wobbled in the jaws and refused to drop.
“You missed that on purpose?”
“What? And miss the chance to get you on the way to being naked. No chance.”
Angie walked past him to line up what was now a gimme shot and, feeling a little looser than before, she brushed her hip against him as she passed. He turned his head to watch as she bent for the shot, standing further away from the table than she needed in order to force herself to stretch, knowing this exposed even more leg than before. The moment the cue tip collided with the ball she knew her mistake. She should have concentrated on the shot rather than teasing her playing partner and, although the eight-ball dropped, she’d hit the wrong side of the cue ball, meaning the shot on the nine-ball to win the rack was not the simple one she’d intended. The cross-double was a hard one to make but she gave it a try, only for the object ball to hit the jaw of the pocket and wobble its way back to the middle of the table. Fifteen seconds later it hit the back of the pocket with a thump as Robert won the rack. She leaned the cue against the wall and stood straight, knowing she now had to pay up on the wager.
Robert put his hand up to stop her and then grinned at her. “You said your choice of clothing to remove this time, and mine next right?”
She nodded.
“Well, think about it before you do the obvious.”
He walked up to her and leaned back against the edge of the table just a couple of feet in front of her. “Since I made you exclude garter belt, stockings and shoes from the list, you’ve only got, what, dress, bra and panties to lose?”
Angie sighed then nodded her agreement, not sure where he was going with this.
“So, you can take your dress off this time, leaving you in your undoubtedly flimsy underwear. Now, given I intend to touch any flesh you expose…”
“That wasn’t in the rules!”
“Nope, but it’s still the case. If you take your dress off first, you’ll be exposing a lot of flesh for me to play with, and I guarantee you’ll lose the bra on the next rack.”
“If I lose the rack.”
“Okay, have it your way. The next rack you lose, you’ll be exposing your rack.” He giggled at his own joke, but Angie didn’t think it was funny. “However, if you lose the bra this time around, of your own choosing, then you won’t be exposing so much flesh, and I promise you you’ll lose the panties next time, so you’ll keep covered up until you lose a third rack.”
“If I lose a third rack.”
“You will, honey. So think carefully about which way around you want to play this out. Do you want to keep me at bay for as long as possible? Extend the game, and make it foreplay, or do you want to let me enjoy the sight and feel of your body for longer? Your choice.”
“Do you mean that?”
“What?”
“My free choice.”
“Of course I do.” He folded his arms and leaned back, seemingly content to let her reach her own decision.
Angie knew he meant what he said. The obvi
ous answer to delay the inevitable, given she’d be playing pool with him until after she was naked, ignoring the stockings et al, was to lose the bra. She rarely wore one with this dress and it offered her an easy out. On the other hand, if she took the dress off she’d be more on show. Given his threat to touch exposed flesh, that was, after all, what today was all about. She’d agreed to the wager. Did she now have the courage to follow through with it? After another moment’s deliberation, she smiled at him and upped the ante, pushing herself to be even more brazen than she’d thought she could be. She whirled to face away from him and, closing her eyes for a moment, looked back over her shoulder at him.
“Would you unzip me, please?”
She smiled at Robert, lowering the pitch of her voice—an emphasis she knew he couldn’t miss and, given their last couple of minutes’ conversation, that emphasis conveyed a promise she hoped she could deliver on. She twisted her head, looking back over her shoulder as he moved to stand close behind her.
“Good girl.”
He breathed into her ear and his hands went to the nape of her neck before moving down. She shivered as his fingers brushed against the delicate skin of her back before he undid the hook and eye at the top of the dress. She closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing as one of his hands held the top of the zip closed while the other drew the tab down her back. He didn’t hurry, taking his time for his own reasons, and she tried hard not to shiver at the touch as his fingers brushing against the naked skin in the small of her back.
Before she could move away, his hands went to her shoulders and she realized the dress now gaped open all the way down the back, exposing her skin for his viewing pleasure. His hands gripped her shoulders, preventing her planned move, and he dragged his fingers out to the sides, in the process pulling the thin straps of the dress off her shoulders. Angie’s hands rose to cross over her chest in reflexive motion to prevent the dress dropping and he chuckled, lowering his face to her neck and brushing his lips against her sensitive skin. Was this the end of the game and the beginning of the seduction? The dress straps hung at her elbows and she knew she only had to move her hands away from her chest and drop them to her sides and the dress would slide down to her hips. His lips brushed delicately against her skin again and again, and she tried to control her breathing, to stop herself reacting to the physical stimulation.