Young Widows Club

by Bridy McAvoy

  “You did that on purpose!”

  He grinned at her again. “Of course.”

  “That shot is obscene!”

  He moved to stand next to her. “I know, and I know how to make it even more so!”

  “What do you mean? What are you going to do?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Robert chuckled and she knew he intended to touch her as she got ready for the shot—partly because he wanted to, but also to show the other guys it would be all right for them to do the same. She tried not to look at them as she chalked her cue and bent over for the shot. She had to lean right against the table and still couldn’t quite reach the angle. Knowing how dangerous it was, but grateful to Robert for giving her a warning, she closed her eyes briefly then swung her right leg onto the table, keeping her left foot secure. Robert immediately moved up to the table and his hand descended onto her rump in a playful slap.

  “Hey!”

  “What?”

  “Not fair.”

  “Very fair.”

  Before she could react any more than that, both his hands went to the double hem of the two-layered dress and flipped it up, exposing her panty-covered ass to their audience. She let out a startled shriek and tried to get up but he slid one hand up to the small of her back and easily held her in place.

  “Play your shot, my dear. Or every few seconds I am going to spank that delectable rear.”

  Angie bit her lip and tried to concentrate on her shot. A moment later, that feat became doubly difficult as his free hand touched the back of her fully exposed thigh, then slid around onto the even softer and more sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, only a couple of inches from her pussy. With her legs in that position she knew her panties were stretched to their maximum amount and gave a silent prayer of thanks for the fact Robert had provided opaque ones for this evening. If she’d tried this shot in the black lace she’d worn for the earlier game against him they’d have stretched to near transparency.

  Robert kept his hand there, his fingers lying across the inside of her thigh, not moving them, as she tried to concentrate on the shot rather than his fingers, or their audience. Knowing why he was doing it, apart from simply copping a feel, was one thing—accepting it was quite another. She drew the cue back and he started moving his fingertips, gently kneading the flesh at the top of her inner thigh. Adrenalin pumped through her system and her senses heightened as the chemicals of arousal rushed through her. For a fleeting second she thought he was going to touch her pussy through her panties and she knew she’d never make the shot if he did. Then she remembered one of his rules—only touch what’s bare—and he’d said he’d be playing by the same rules. Hadn’t he?

  Relaxing took a little effort but she let the cue go and watched the five-ball disappear into the pocket with a satisfying thump, then slowly levered up on her hands. Robert removed his hand from her back, allowing her to straighten up, but didn’t remove the hand from her thigh. She looked at him and nodded, showing him she’d understood his message and the reasoning behind it. Touching her during shots was allowed, even encouraged—by him, if not by her—and he moved away. As she moved around the table to line up the easy shot on the six she could feel her heart thumping. Glancing down only confirmed what she already knew—her nipples were hard, indenting the fabric of the top of her dress, something that had to be obvious to everyone.

  She looked over at the audience and smiled, knowing the guys would see it as the invitation it was supposed to be, and saw Trish was immobile, her eyes flared wide. Pete’s hand was entirely out of sight under the fold of her dress, and from the angle of his wrist high on her thigh it was clear he’d found out how under-dressed she was—commando. His fingers must be playing with her naked pussy. Not only was her friend wide-eyed, she was also flushed, and Angie looked away, not wanting to embarrass her friend by watching. Then she looked back—after all, Trish was watching her! One of the other men had his arm around Pattie and had pulled her in close, his hand having scrabbled the thin satin of her slip high enough on her waist to insert his hand between it and the waistband of her underwear. His hand hadn’t moved either down or up from there but, from the actions of both men, it was obvious Robert’s icebreaker had worked, although, as the icebreaker she now had to contrive a way to lose this rack—and to do it convincingly. That wasn’t easy. The six, seven and eight-balls were lined up easily, and although the nine-ball was tight against the cushion, a simple roll up off the eight-ball was a shot she could make with her eyes closed.

  To deliberately lose without being obvious about it wasn’t easy, but Robert intended to take her panties for losing this rack, and she had a script to follow. He was watching her face, knowing what she was calculating and, when she caught his eye, he gave her an encouraging smile. His fingers flicked in front of his body, five then three, and she caught the meaning immediately—fluff the eight-ball—giving him an almost imperceptible nod in acknowledgement of his instructions. The six and seven-ball were dispatched with ease and Robert kept his distance but, when she bent to line up the more difficult shot on the eight–ball, she felt someone move to stand behind her. Since she could see everyone else, it could only be Robert. This time her shot was facing their audience and the front of the dress hung down, exposing her cleavage and, from their angle, she thought, a fair portion of the inside of her breasts.

  Robert stood right behind her, his crotch pushed up against her, and she could feel his half-hard cock aligned with the crack of her ass. She wiggled from side to side and grinned as he gasped, and his cock grew rapidly harder, just as it had that time before. She expected him to lift her skirt again, but then realized that wouldn’t suit his purposes. They were around the wrong side of the table for that to provide any entertaining level of exposure for his friends. Instead, he leaned over her back and brought his head level with hers, then nibbled her ear before whispering into it.

  “Don’t over-react.”

  She braced herself, not sure what he intended, but was still surprised and shocked when she felt his hand push against the fabric of her panties, pushing it up into the cleft of her pussy. She tried hard not to squeal in a mix of surprise and outrage, and closed her eyes. The fabric slipped in easily, giving her unwanted confirmation that she was wet.

  “God!”

  “You’re trembling.”

  “Are you surprised?”

  He chuckled, his breath vibrating against her ear. “Take the shot. I’ve just provided the perfect excuse for you to miss it.”

  “Bastard!”

  “Your pussy is telling me you love it!”

  With a start, she realized her body had reacted subconsciously to the stimulation, her ass pushing back against his finger, trying to capture more of it inside her. She tried hard not to shudder and quickly lined up and took the shot. Partly as expected, and partly as planned, the eight-ball missed and the white ball rolled back toward her. She tried hard to get up but Robert’s weight kept her pinned to the table and she could only watch in fascination as the white rolled up to her side and nestled gently against her flank.

  “Foul!”

  “Not fair.”

  “Still a foul.”

  He let her up and she moved away from the table as he placed the white in perfect position to pot the eight-ball. Thirty seconds later the nine-ball dropped into the pocket and he punched the air in delight. The other girls applauded, as did Gray, but the other men couldn’t—they had at least one hand busy with the woman they each held.

  Robert grabbed her by the hand and led her around to stand at the side of the table facing them, leaving her nowhere to hide.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, I won, and since Angie has no money to pay her bet, I’m going to claim my prize. Now, what should it be? The outer layer of the dress, or the inner one? She assures me they are quite separate. Or should I go for the underwear, instead? Let’s have a vote on it.”

  She knew she was going to lose her panties, and so did th
e other women, so if he did insist on them all voting she was sure the three women and Robert himself would vote for the panties. She wasn’t sure how the other four men would vote, but knew they would be out-voted if Robert allowed her to have a say herself, given she’d have to answer the way he wanted.

  The other people in the room chuckled and she knew her face had heated from Robert’s tone, but there was nothing she could do other than go through the charade.

  “No, only joking, friends. I already know exactly the prize I’m going to collect—the one I had my fingers on only a few moments ago.”

  As he said that she felt as much as heard Robert drop to his knees behind her and then his hands touched the outside of her thighs. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, shifting her stance slightly so her legs were parted just enough for him to pull her panties down without them catching. Behind her he chuckled and she felt one hand leave her thigh and cup her butt cheek gently, in what she could only take as a gesture of encouragement, weird though it was.

  In her mind, she played the scene out, Robert lifting her skirt to flash her panties at everyone, then getting her to hold her skirt to her waist as he drew them down her legs, exposing her pussy to them. She shuddered at the thought while behind her Robert lifted the skirt in the first part of what had just gone through her head. Her eyes popped open and she tried to focus on something else, anything, while she suffered the indignity of having her panties removed in public in this way. Robert, though, didn’t follow her worst nightmare, didn’t hook the skirt into her clutching fingers, instead let it hang on his arms as he dug his thumbs into the waistband of the garment she was about to lose. His hands began to move downward, travelling slowly, tantalizing both the audience and her. She couldn’t help, couldn’t prevent, the rush of hormones and adrenalin that coursed through her and, as his hands passed her hips and the dress began to slide back down to provide her with some—at least temporary—modesty, she could feel her heart hammering in her chest.

  His hands slid further and she felt the gusset momentarily stick to her slit, knowing this was down to her own moisture. Embarrassment joined the war of emotions fighting to gain control of her body. As his hands reached the level of her knees, the dress fell back into its proper place and she tried to breathe deeply in recognition that he’d achieved his aim, removed her panties and excited the guys, but not actually shown them anything. She searched along the line of watching faces, including her friends, to see if anyone betrayed seeing anything they shouldn’t have yet. Satisfied there were no tell-tales, she lifted first one foot then the other as Robert removed the panties completely and stood up, the garment now dangling from one finger. He stepped to one side of her and brought his head closer. She turned to face him and he gave her a kiss on the lips.

  “You could thank me, you know.”

  “Thank you for what? For removing my underwear?”

  When he nodded, she giggled and shook her head then decided to play along. “Thank you for taking my panties off. Will you keep them safe for me?”

  Her disingenuous response caught him a little off-guard and earned a round of chuckles from the people watching but he recovered, bringing them up to his nose and sniffing them delicately in a move that could only convey to the other men how turned on she was. The heat in her face was extreme. She knew she was blushing bright red from her hairline down into her cleavage but said nothing.

  Still smiling at her, he tucked the teal green underwear into his pocket and turned his attention to the rest of the guys. “Right, who wants to be next to play our little spitfire?”

  The guy with his hand inside Trish’s skirt, and—from the look on her face – eyes half-closed, mouth half-open—in her pussy as well, was the one who stepped forward. As his hand emerged from Trish’s dress, the fingers glistened in the light and Trish gasped in a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment as she saw people were watching.

  “I’ll take her on. Fifty dollars a rack, young lady?”

  Angie nodded, and forced a smile. Given the liberties he’d already taken with her friend before the party really got going, she was sure he’d do similar things to her as well. She’d hoped that Gray, the man talking to her earlier, would play her first, but he was already walking across to Pattie as the blonde’s partner turned his attention to the suddenly alone Trish. Robert had said the idea was to get some circulation in the group, not force everyone to pair off from the get go, and from this small sample, it looked like his plan was succeeding.

  Angie had decided that as she had to make it with one of them, Gray was the man she’d choose, so a plan formed in her mind. Assuming they all took turns to play, he would be the one she’d let capture her dress, both parts, on separate racks, provided the party didn’t kick off in earnest before that. From the flushed look on Trish’s face, her friend looked ready to party immediately.

  Pete smiled at her. “Ladies first. I’ll let you break.”

  “Thank you, if you would be so kind as to rack up.”

  Before he could move, Robert stepped forward. “Allow me.”

  In reaching for the balls down the pockets nearest to Angie he had to pass close to her. When he did, his fingers trailed across her thigh, making her jump a little. Pete was watching and was sure taking it all in. Sure enough, as Robert moved around to the other side of the table, Pete closed the distance between them and Angie felt his fingers brush her thigh. When she didn’t object—there didn’t seem to be any point—his hand returned, lingering on the bare flesh above her stocking. He didn’t have the chance to go any further, to use the fingers he’d just had inside Trish on her, because Robert called out the table was ready and stood back. Able to break away from him, Angie retrieved her cue and placed the white ball where she wanted it.

  The break was near perfect, the balls split over the table and the four-ball dropped in the center hole. The white came all the way back up the table then halfway forward again, leaving her a stretch, but an easy shot on the one-ball. As she walked around the table, she realized two things. As she stretched, her skirt would ride up and she was now commando, and secondly, Pete was waiting in that general area. She was certain he had every intention of copping a feel the moment she bent over, but she had no choice, and she wanted to win this rack, not just to put some extra cash in the kitty, but also to keep her newly planned assignation with the unsuspecting Gray.

  “Nice break.”

  She smiled at him, trying to portray a confidence she no longer felt. The lack of panties was affecting her welfare more than she’d expected it to. Once more she heard a partly-stifled moan from the group to the side and turned her head to look back over her shoulder. This time the sound came from Becky. Her partner had slipped his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and Angie could clearly see his fingers outlined in the loose satin as they slid down toward her slit. She guessed they were on their way back to where they’d been once already, and guessed the moan had startled him into partially withdrawing his hand. Angie smiled at her friend who gave her a weak smile in acknowledgement then closed her eyes and abandoned herself to his touch.

  Angie turned her attention back to the table. “Are you going to behave yourself around the table?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Would I?”

  “Hmm…”

  Knowing she’d just given him carte blanche to molest her as she took the shot, Angie stepped up to the table and tried to line up the shot without bending, determined to minimize the time she would spend in the vulnerable exposed position. It wasn’t the best way to prepare for the shot, but she wanted to make sure he had less time to do the dirty on her. Mind you, she realized, if he used one hand to hold her down on the table the way Robert had, he’d have as much time as he wanted for whatever he decided to do to her. She shivered at the thought, then bent down to prepare for her shot on the one-ball. As soon as she bent over, his hand touched her outer thigh. She jumped but didn’t straighten, and his hand stayed where it was. In fac
t, he surprised her, not sliding it around to the inside of her thigh, or up, and not lifting the skirt to expose her to the audience for the entire time she was bent over. The one-ball went down and the white skidded on the extra six inches it needed to line up the two-ball and she pushed herself to her feet, rising as gracefully as she could and stepped away. Pete’s hand dropped from her leg and she moved around the table for the next shot, surprised when he didn’t follow.

  His reasoning became apparent when she bent over her next shot—the two-ball into the center pocket right in line with him. She only had to lift her eyes a fraction from the ball to see into his grinning face as he bent down too. She realized he’d lined himself up perfectly to get a fantastic look straight down the drooping front of her dress and, she guessed, from his angle he could probably see almost all of her breasts as far as the nipples, if not the nipples themselves.

  She swallowed hard and took the shot, straightening up very quickly. Because she’d hurried it, she’d pulled the cue a little wide and, although the two dropped, her line on the three was all wrong. She settled for a safety shot, putting the three tight on the cushion and stepped back from the table to let him take his shot, fighting to control her breathing.

  Pete took his time selecting a cue from the rack, flexing each one and checking they were straight. She wondered why he was taking so much time as she stood there, then glanced behind her.