by Bridy McAvoy
“Your story?”
Becky shrugged. “I experimented with my room-mate a couple of times, had a full-on affair for about a month with a cute lesbian sophomore in my junior year, but met Chris at the start of my senior year and never looked at another man—or woman—from that moment on.” She stopped, bit her lip, then continued in a much quieter voice. “Until this week, that is…”
Now it was Angie’s turn to squeeze her friend’s hands.
“How about you?” Pattie’s question brought another rush of heat to Angie’s face. She nodded toward Becky.
“Similar to Becky, I guess. But without the full-on affair bit.”
“Which is almost certainly why he chose Becky and me to perform the floor show today and tomorrow.”
Angie stared at her friend, her mouth dropping open. “I thought I was the floor show. You know, the pool playing thing.”
Becky suddenly giggled and Angie turned to her. “No. sweetie. You’re the entree. If that doesn’t get them going, Pattie and I will be the main course.”
Angie let that one go and changed tack, returning to the original topic of conversation. “So, before we even went shopping today, the two of you knew more than Trish and I did about that bastard’s plans for the evening.”
Pattie closed her eyes briefly and nodded.
“Damn!”
“Sorry, Angie.”
She shook her head. “No, girlfriends. I’m not mad with you, I’m mad with him. He’s a calculating, deceitful bastard. Did he tell you to seduce Trish and me?”
Becky took up the role of fielding her questions again. “No. He told us to take advantage of any situation that presented itself. When Trish opted to sit on Pattie’s lap to watch you strip, rather than his, Pattie took advantage, just as I would have done if she’d sat on my lap, as you did when it was Trish’s turn.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “He offered Pattie and me a two hundred dollar bonus for each orgasm we could bring another woman to during the evening, so I made four hundred dollars off him.” She held her hand up to forestall the obvious anger Angie felt herself radiating. “Pattie and I had a chat earlier. We’re going to pool the bonus money for all of us, okay?”
Angie let her shoulders slump, fighting to control her breathing as her anger drained away. That hundred dollars each would go a long way to paying for the amount she’d forked out on clothes today, and she guessed Robert wouldn’t always be providing the wardrobe for his parties.
“Angie?”
“Yeah?”
“You okay with that?”
“Yeah… And I guess it’s only fair, if I take a few fifties at the pool table tomorrow, that I pool them too.”
The other two women chuckled and nodded before Pattie spoke again. Angie definitely felt the two women were tag-teaming her, but then they were the two with more information than she had.
“Yeah, and ignoring what Robert said, after the first frame, play to win. Put some more green in the pot.”
“Too right!”
“Trouble is, you’ll have to lose your underwear on the first rack, so when you hustle them, hustle them properly.”
“Hustle? Properly?”
“Yeah, honey, you know. Do it right. Lose the first game really, really, badly. Make sure you make a couple of mistakes on the rack then make it look like you fluke a couple of balls, then fluke-miss the nine-ball so Robert has an easy win.”
“Ah, yes, I see.” Angie nodded to herself. She’d already been planning something similar, but hadn’t thought it through in as much detail as Pattie described.
Becky put her mug down and eyed the clock on the wall. “Ladies, since we’re not going to get much sleep tomorrow night…”
She had the grace to blush and Angie chuckled, somehow managing to see the funny side as Pattie finished the sentence for her.
“…We all need our beauty sleep.”
Angie hugged her friends and showed them to the door, locking up before heading upstairs for a soothing shower before bed. As she stripped off her jeans, she idly wondered how much rest Trish would get tonight.
Part IV
With a sense of déjà vu, Angie checked the clock in her hall one more time. Two minutes to seven, and Robert had been insistent on them being on time today, no ten minutes fashionably late. Prompt. Treat it as a vital appointment. She rechecked her dress and her makeup for the final time. The green stockings gave her legs a different glow, and she shuddered at the thought. It had taken ages to retie the bows on the bottom layer of the dress to get it to sit just right, although she thought it hung a little lower in front than it had before.
She knew that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but, all the same, the idea of accidentally flashing a bit more tit than expected didn’t sit that well, despite knowing she’d be showing a huge amount more within the next couple of hours, and doing more than showing it, too.
She opened her door and peered out into the quiet, gated cul-de-sac. She’d watched from her bedroom window for half an hour as one by one the four male paying guests for the party had arrived. They were all somewhat older than her—or the other women, for that matter. Salt and pepper hair predominated but one guy looked definitely gray and older than the others. At least, she thought to herself, none of them were balding and/or fat, although she knew as things progressed and their client base expanded, Robert would not be so choosy. She guessed he’d tried to be nice to them this time, by picking men who were at least tolerably good-looking, even if none of them were her type, nor the others’ types. Robert would be the youngest man there by several years.
Angie stepped out her door, locked it behind her, and moved to the front edge of her porch, looking around. As if the other women had been waiting for her to make a move, their front doors opened and they emerged. Trish looked incredible with her hair up, diamond earrings glinting in the evening sunlight as she locked her door and walked up the road. Angie met her at the foot of her drive and the two women embraced for a moment then turned as the other two approached.
“So, ladies, are we ready?”
She tried to keep the strain out of her voice, but it wasn’t easy. She could see Becky and Pattie, considerably under-dressed compared to her and Trish, edging behind them so as not to be quite so visible in case Robert and his guests were watching them from the family room window on the other side of the road. There’d been no sign of movement from that house since the cars had arrived, and Angie felt certain the guys were all downstairs in Robert’s man-cave rather than upstairs hoping for a glimpse of the meat. Mind you, she couldn’t blame her friends for being anxious.
One by one, the others nodded, and Angie, taking the lead again—not entirely of her own choice—walked across the road, hearing the heels of her three friends clicking on the tarmac as they followed. Quite what she’d have done if the other three had chickened out at the last minute and run away wasn’t something she had a plan for. She closed her eyes briefly, letting the vision of all five men pawing at her, pulling her clothes off and then gangbanging her, play across her eyelids then shuddered and pushed it resolutely from her mind. But she couldn’t prevent the shiver running down her spine. Of course, Trish, just behind her, noticed.
“What were you just thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
Trish laughed. “I bet. In fact, I bet you have some extraordinary fantasies.”
Angie fought down the desire to blush and give away the truth of Trish’s statement and decided she’d better fight fire with fire.
“I’m sure you do too. I’m sure you all do.” She turned and looked at the other three over her shoulder, and saw Trish and Becky both react guiltily to her statement. She stopped and stared at Pattie who tried not to react, but after a moment nodded her head. Angie got the pageant moving again and they trooped up Robert’s drive and she rang the bell.
Robert didn’t answer for a few seconds and she almost rang it again but, just as she reached for the bell–push, he opened the door. �
��Ladies, good evening. Thank you for coming. Please, do come in.”
Angie smiled at her late husband’s ex-boss, even as she cringed inwardly at his lame double-entendre, and led the way past him into the house.
* * * *
Another half an hour found Angie on her second glass of wine, engaged in conversation with an investment banker by the name of Graham, who insisted on being called Gray, which reminded her of that Shades book from the year before and made her giggle. Gray suited him. His salt and pepper hair was rather more salt than pepper but he was a good conversationalist. While their chat had remained on safe ground, he’d been as much of a gentleman as he could, other than the fact he seemed to spend as much time talking to her cleavage as he did talking to her.
Each of the other women seemed to have paired up with one of the other guests, but they were all still on their feet, nobody sitting down on the couches. Becky and Pattie seemed to be a little less embarrassed about their thin and skimpy attire, and Trish had finally let go of the sides of her skirt where she’d been holding them together. Her red dress did look stunning on her lithe figure, especially with the way she’d done her hair up and added jewelry that matched. Angie had opted for plain hoop earrings, although quite large ones, and a simple gold crucifix dangling into her cleavage. She knew it would fall out of the top of her dress and hang down when she bent for a pool shot, and a few moments thought had shown her how she could accidentally, on purpose, foul when she needed to in order to lose a rack.
Robert had simply been playing the host, not pairing up with anyone, circulating and ensuring everyone’s drinks were topped up, and nibbles placed at strategic points around the room. He wore a dress shirt and tie, matching the level of attire of his suited guests, but unlike them wore no jacket. A few minutes later he caught Angie’s eye from behind the bar and nodded to her. She swallowed hard and knew her moment had come. It was time for them all to start paying the piper and, as per Robert’s instructions, it was her turn first. She swallowed hard as Robert spoke out, quelling the murmur of conversation.
“Gentlemen, Angie here reckons herself to be a good pool player.”
A round of polite laughter went around the room with the other women joining in. She was a good pool player and Robert knew it. He was acting, just setting the scene. She glared at him, but knew he would know she didn’t actually mean it.
“So, let’s give her the chance to prove it, shall we, gentlemen?”
Gray chuckled, a sound deep in his throat as he took a half step away from her, his eyes cataloguing her from head to toe. She knew he was thinking how that dress would look, how she would look, bent over a cue to line up a shot. She shuddered a little then returned her attention to Robert once more.
“So, how about a wager, Angie, say fifty dollars a rack, nine-ball?”
“But…” She licked her suddenly dry lips and tried again. “But, I didn’t bring any money with me…”
Everyone laughed even louder this time. Angie’s air of fake innocence enhanced by her batted eyelashes, even had Robert chuckling as she hammed it up to the max.
“We’ll work something out, won’t we, guys? So why don’t you and I play the first rack, and then the other guys can take their turn at you…I mean, their turn at playing you…at pool.”
Even Angie had to giggle at that but felt the slight blush rise to her face as she handed her glass of wine to Gray and winked at him. “Watch me take him to the cleaners…”
She was pleased at the way her whisper oozed confidence, even though her stomach was full of butterflies. She already knew that in a few minutes these men would be watching Robert remove her panties and then asking one of them to play against her. As she watched Robert set up the table, racking the balls cleanly and proficiently as always, she couldn’t help replaying what had happened the previous weekend when she’d played Robert on his own under similar circumstances.
A shudder ran down her body as the memory flooded through her. Robert had finished racking the balls while she was distracted and was looking at her with a slight frown, and she realized he must have spoken to her and she hadn’t heard him.
“Sorry?”
“I said, shall we lag for the break?”
She nodded and, after moving to the wall to select a cue, joined him at the far end of the table.
“Same rules as last time. Okay with you, Angie?”
She nodded and tried not to think about the amount of leg she was showing as she bent over to line up the lag shot. Every eye in the room was on her—or, rather, every male eye was on her legs. She was sure the dress rose up above the top of her stocking, but didn’t dare look down to check.
Gray had sidled across the room to improve his viewing angle and, fighting down the flight reflex, she stopped herself from shuddering again. She was pretty sure she was the one he had designs on, although the other men seemed interested too. At least the other women weren’t pouting about her being the center of attention. They knew the script as well as she did. That might not have been the case in a different, social scenario.
The lag wasn’t the most difficult shot in the book, simply rolling the ball up and down off two cushions so that the one nearest to the head line won, but it wasn’t one she had played let alone practiced for a while. They hadn’t used it the previous weekend. As a result, adrenalin added its weight to the ball and she shot a good eighteen inches too hard, way past the line, easily allowing Robert to win the right to break.
He looked at her accusingly but she hadn’t allowed him to win. Her arm had tightened during the shot and she’d fluffed it. Now there was every possibility he would run through the rack, leaving her losing her panties without playing another shot. She bit her bottom lip as she stood up, and stepped back, allowing him to break.
She already knew Robert was a good player and she could have predicted the break shot, two balls down and three safely across the head line. However, he’d potted the one-ball and the two had cannoned up the table and tucked itself against the cushion, leaving him with a relatively easy safety but no pot opportunity. A minute later, Angie found herself back at the table, this time with a very difficult shot, the two-ball blocked by the seven–ball, and her natural escape via one cushion blocked by the five. She frowned at Robert but he just laughed and gestured that the table was hers. The two cushion route wasn’t a natural angle and she needed a lot of left-hand English to make it. As she lined up the shot, she remembered what Becky and Pattie had said about hustling the other guys—and putting some money in the pot for all of them by not playing this rack as well as she’d play the next few.
Angie adjusted her aim point and made a passable attempt at the hit, but missed by a couple of inches on purpose.
“Shit! I thought I’d nailed that one.”
She bounced the butt of the cue on the floor and as it came up she missed the catch, dropping the cue to the floor with a clatter. Without thinking about her short skirt and where her butt was pointing, she bent over at the waist and picked it up then, while bent over, realized how much of her body she’d just flashed to the watching audience. When she stood up she knew her face was bright red from embarrassment—she could feel the heat—and frowned at Robert as he laughed at her expression. Behind her, the others were laughing too and then she heard a quiet squeal. She turned to see one of the guys—Pete she thought he’d given his name as when he’d been introduced to her—had deftly inserted his hand into the slit on Trish’s dress and was brazenly fondling her thigh. Trish looked embarrassed at having made the noise. After a moment Angie returned her attention to the pool table where Robert had retrieved the white ball and was pondering his shot.
She took in the table in a single gestalt, and could see an easy two-ball, followed by the four, since the three-ball had been the other one potted at the break. The five-ball would be tricky and she could see this is where her expert opponent was taking his time considering his shot.
“Come on, what’s keeping you?”
/> Robert looked at her sharply, knowing she was no airhead, and there was no real reason for her to speak out like that, then he grinned. “Why? Are you that anxious to get naked?”
“Fat chance! Play ball.”
She returned his grin, her back to the other men and gave him a wink. After a few more moments he positioned the white only just off line from the two-ball a couple of inches out from the cushion. He played a deep screw shot which thumped the two-ball into the pocket and lined up the four-ball nicely for the middle of the pocket. Angie caught herself nodding in recognition of the shot—not the way she’d have played it at all. She’d have run through and come off the cushion. Now the relatively straight four from the other side gave him a better chance than she’d anticipated on the five. The four followed its expected course and Robert lined up on the five. This time, though, she could see his line was ever so slightly off, but she couldn’t tell if that was by accident or design. In any case, the five rattled in the jaws but didn’t drop, ending up about six inches away from the pocket with the white at the other end of the table.
“My shot!”
She put as much enthusiasm as she could—far more than she really felt—into her gleeful shout and moved around to the far end of the table. She’d noticed everyone in the room was watching the game, and they’d all managed to percolate up to where Gray stood in order to get a better look at her as she bent over each shot.
Her only choice on the five-ball was a straightforward, but not easy, double up and down the table and she made a genuine attempt, only for the five to wobble in the jaws and finish in almost the same position, albeit at the other end of the table. Since she’d played the white to come to a dead stop when it hit the object ball, she’d left Robert the same shot.
Although she’d missed it she expected him to get it, but his miss was worse than hers, glancing off the side cushion and coming to rest a few inches out from the cushion in a position where she could cut it in. Unfortunately, the white had rolled just past the middle of the table and the only way she could reach, either from the side or top of the table, would be if she really stretched. Of course, that stretch would mean everyone would be able to see the panties that matched the dress and, with her legs apart, she hoped they wouldn’t be able to see how aroused she was. That reverie about the earlier game had had its side effects. Ever since, her nipples had been tenting out the front of her dress, noticeable to everyone, no doubt, and she had felt her pussy swell and moisten too.