Young Widows Club

by Bridy McAvoy

  “Oh!”

  Her soft exclamation brought a chuckle from him. Robert had turned on the under-bar lights at the small drinks area in the corner and she’d been standing right in front of them. The light had to be outlining her through the thin material of the dress, showing him every detail, in silhouette, of her legs.

  She quickly brought her legs together and Pete turned his attention to the table. His attempt on the three-ball was passable but not great and she classified him as an average bar player rather than someone on the skill level of Robert—in some way a relief. He left the three-ball in an easy potting position and she duly dispatched that and the five-ball, although the five to six was too much so she went for another safety. Angie was surprised he didn’t touch her, didn’t come close to her, while she played the shot but instead took up a position from where he could see her legs as she stretched and bent, with the skirt sliding up every time. He followed her lead and took a safety shot himself rather than attempting a difficult pot.

  The six was now an awkward shot and a bit of a stretch across the table, and Pete surprised her by moving in close again. At least she was facing everyone else so he couldn’t flip her skirt up, exposing her ass and pussy to them when she lifted her knee onto the table. He didn’t do that, even for himself. His hand found her inner thigh and slid all the way up. She grunted in surprise as his fingertips brushed against her slit, paused for a second, then his index finger pushed in, sinking knuckle-deep into her. She gasped as he rotated his hand then pushed in deeper, bringing his thumb into contact with the top of her slit. Angie had to close her eyes and bite her lip to prevent herself moaning out loud as he mashed her clit with the ball of his thumb. She tried hard to stay still, rather than hump back against his hand or shoot upright in outrage, both options considered by different parts of her brain.

  Of course, his ministrations to her sex had the effect she guessed he wanted. Her shot, never easy in the first place, became impossible with his finger sawing in and out of her pussy, and the six-ball missed, but at least ran safe. He seemed reluctant to remove his finger from her and Angie let him continue for several seconds, showing everyone in the room it had to be having the desired effect on her. She broke the silence that had descended on the small gathering. “Excuse me.”

  “Of course. In any case, I believe it’s my shot.”

  He stepped back and she stood up, breathing heavily. She could feel the heat in her cheeks again, only this time it wasn’t embarrassment. The short action on the pool table had turned her on more than she’d expected it to. A moment later she gasped as Pete stepped up a gear in his pool playing and expertly sank the six from an angle she probably wouldn’t have attempted herself. The white rebounded across the table and came to rest behind the eight-ball, completely obscuring his path to the seven. She smiled a little in relief.

  “Thought I had that one.”

  “Obviously not.”

  “Care to make a little side wager?”

  “Such as?”

  “Double or nothing?”

  Behind him she saw Robert shake his head slightly, almost imperceptibly, and she knew no one else would have seen his movement. She took his message to heart.

  “I don’t think so. We’ll stay with the existing wager, just in case you’re hustling me.”

  He chuckled. “Who’s hustling who?”

  She tried not to let her face betray any emotion as his barb sank in. After all, she’d used the classic hustling ploy, losing the first rack and playing much better in this one.

  She watched as he lined up the shot on the seven off two cushions. Unless he put enough English on the white he’d never make it and she’d have used a three cushion escape for that reason. As she predicted, he missed by at least a foot.

  “Foul!”

  “Okay.”

  She picked up the white and moved around the table.

  “Hey!”

  “What?”

  Robert chipped in. “Sorry, Pete, it’s ball in hand for a foul, remember?”

  “Sorry, I forgot. I apologize, Angie.”

  She shrugged and smiled at him as she assessed the remaining three balls on the table. If she made the seven a little more difficult she’d be in a better position on the eight. She lined up the seven and then the eight without interference from Pete who seemed to have gone into his shell a little, but he came close to her as she lined up a straightforward roll in on the nine-ball. Once more, as she bent for the shot, his hand found its way unerringly to her pussy. This time, though, she was facing away from the group, and they would be able to see not only her naked pussy in all its glory, but exactly what he was doing to it—and her.

  She tried not to moan as he entered her with two fingers this time, but her body betrayed her and she had to stay still for a few seconds as her pussy pulsed in a precursor to an orgasm. She knew she was in trouble if she didn’t pot the nine-ball soon, her entire body starting to tremble from an impending climax and she didn’t want that to happen yet. That was, her mind didn’t want it to happen this soon—her body wanted nothing better.

  Forcing the trembling to stop took an effort that brought her out in a sweat but she somehow succeeded—not knowing how she’d managed it—then lined up and potted the nine–ball, even though he was once again sawing his fingers in and out of her, in full open view of everyone else in the room.

  “My rack. You owe me fifty dollars, buster!”

  “My pleasure, or was it yours?”

  He chuckled as they both stood up and he pulled a fifty from his pocket with the same hand he’d just used on, and in, her. The bill was damp with her juices as she took it from him and walked over to the bar to put it in her purse for safe keeping. Robert moved to the table to set up the balls again and she turned her attention back to the group. Just as Pete had done, Gray had his hand inside Trish’s dress, while Becky’s partner had his hand down her panties. Both women were squirming, hips rotating slowly under the impetus of the way the men were manipulating them. Pattie, though, was in more trouble. Angie had expected herself to be the one whose breasts were exposed first. In fact, she’d expected to be naked before anything happened with any of her friends, but the man holding Pattie had lifted up her top, exposing the blonde instead.

  Her top was obscenely hooked around her neck, her breasts in full view, except for the fact one was covered by one of his hands, and the other by one of her own. Angie caught a quick flash of a very extended nipple as the man tweaked it before covering it as he cupped it once again. She was even more surprised to see Pattie’s own hand manipulating her other breast in the same way.

  For a moment Angie wondered if anyone was going to play pool with her or not, and derail Robert’s plan by getting things going too early.

  “Who’s next?”

  The man fondling Pattie’s breasts, who she now remembered was Chris, surprised her by letting go of Pattie, much to the blonde woman’s apparent disappointment, and stepped forward.

  Angie smiled at him and when he approached her and bent down to kiss her she allowed her lips to soften and part slightly. His tongue flicked out and licked at her lips but didn’t try to penetrate further and he then stepped back.

  “Your break, sir.”

  She smiled up at the tall man, trying to control her breathing. She watched as he went through the ritual of selecting a cue, chalking the tip and placing the white where he wanted it. She glanced over to see Pattie had pulled her top back down to cover her breasts but her nipples poked very clear indentations in the satin. Pete had moved up to stand behind her, taking up the position that Chris had just vacated, but so far only had his hands around her waist. The guys were far more touchy-feely than she’d expected. Indeed, from the reactions of her friends, far more than any of them had expected. None of them seemed to be prepared to object. The clack of balls as he broke the rack returned her attention to the table and she immediately saw it had been a good break, one ball down, the six, and two balls back past th
e head line as well as the white.

  For the next couple of minutes Chris ignored her completely as he concentrated on his game. The one, two and three-balls were dispatched with ease, the four-ball wobbled in the jaws but dropped, and Angie wondered if he was going to run the rack and claim one layer of her dress without her even getting a shot. She began to regret giving him the break but he missed the five-ball, leaving her an easy tap in.

  As she bent over the table to take her shot, she noticed he’d stayed at the other end of the table, not coming close or touching her. He wasn’t even in the right position to get a voyeur’s view down her cleavage. This surprised her but she didn’t comment or otherwise get concerned about it. In fact, she relished the chance to show off her skills and stay clear of him. The five, seven, and eight-ball disappeared in quick succession and she had an easy shot on the nine to clinch the rack. Throughout her previous shots, Chris had stood still, but now she had to move close to him to take her final shot of the rack. She bent over to line it up, bracing herself for the expected grope, but it never came, although she did notice him getting closer. Instead of touching her he started talking to her, his voice pitched low and quiet so it wouldn’t carry to everyone else.

  “I know you like being touched, but I want to know if you like being fucked as much as you like being touched.”

  She gasped but he didn’t give her chance to respond.

  “I know that cunt of yours is juiced up, ready and waiting for one of us to slip his cock into it and fill you. Do you want me to be the one to fuck you ‘til you scream?”

  His use of far cruder language than she was accustomed to sent a shudder through her and twitched her cue arm just as she took the shot. When he called her pussy a cunt, her pussy responded in a way she hadn’t expected, pulsing her muscles and inducing reaction after cascading reaction within her. She tried hard not to react but she couldn’t. The combination of the situation, his natural arrogance, and his use of forbidden language, prevented her from taking the easy shot. The nine-ball hit the near knuckle of the pocket and rolled five or six inches along the cushion, denying her the chance to win the rack in one visit. At least the white had run safe.

  Angie stood up and glared at Chris, knowing her face was flaming red from his comments. She tried to stare him down but he stared back, keeping his eyes open, unblinking, his mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. In the end, she was the one who had to look away, had to step back and give him control of the table. He chuckled but made no further comment, bent and took a quick shot, not really aiming it properly but still managing to hit the nine-ball and nudge it toward the middle of the table presenting her with another clean opportunity to win the rack.

  He moved close to her as she bent to take the shot, this time bending to rest his elbow on the table next to her, his free hand resting lightly in the small of her back.

  “What’s the matter? Don’t you like men talking dirty to you?”

  She twisted her head and glared at him but realized he was smiling, his eyes twinkling, and she had to relent and allow a slight smile of her own in response.

  “That’s better. I still can’t wait to feel that juicy little cunt of yours wrapped nice and tightly around my prick, to feel you bucking up against me as I ram it home, dragging those plump pink cunt lips to and fro as I fuck you. I want your legs wrapped around me, your heels digging into my back, your nipples pointing and crushed against my chest as I fuck you to screaming orgasm after orgasm. I want to feel your tight cunt pulse around me.”

  Angie found his words didn’t shock this time, although they were, if anything, worse and far more detailed. She concentrated on her shot, not letting him distract her. She grinned as the nine-ball sank into the pocket and tried to rise. Chris, however, had other ideas. The pressure of his hand in the small of her back increased and held her in place. He kept it there as he rose to his feet, switching hands without giving her the chance to stand, and using his other hand to casually flip the back of her skirt up, exposing her butt to him. A moment later she felt his fingers press between her legs, feeling for and finding her pussy. She bit her lip to stifle the near automatic moan as his fingertips found her slit and then two of them pushed easily inside.

  “You like that, don’t you?”

  She decided to treat it as a rhetorical question, knowing her body was answering him for her.

  “Go on, cream my fingers. I’m not going to stop fingering your cunt ‘til you cum. Cum for me, baby.”

  She realized he’d used his middle fingers on her when his index finger snaked past and searched the top of her slit. Instinctively, she shifted to spread her legs wider, allowing him access. His probing finger found her clit and stabbed down on it, squashing it into its sheath, wrenching a groan from her lips as her body reacted to the stimulation. His fingers were moving, seemingly independently, never giving her tortured pussy a chance to relax, to calm down, as he pushed against her. She laid her head down on her arms on top of the table and gave herself over to the feelings coursing through her, moaning almost continuously as she rode the wave of an impending orgasm closer and closer to its peak.

  Chris seemed to sense when she was almost about to cum and suddenly stopped, withdrawing his hand from between her legs and pulling her skirt back down before stepping back. It took a moment for Angie to realize what he’d done, and it left her feeling bereft, frustrated, her pussy feeling empty without his fingers inside her.

  “Wha…?”

  He bent over next to her and whispered again. “Just to prove I could have. I’ll see you later to finish the job.”

  She shuddered and shut her eyes tightly, aware her friends had watched her humiliation as he finger-fucked her to almost, but not quite, the point of no return. Including Robert, three of the men in the room had had their fingers buried in her pussy at one time or another tonight, and it didn’t take any guesswork to realize her next playing partner would do exactly the same.

  Chris handed over a fifty spot and turned to the others.

  “Steve, why don’t you play for her dress? I know you’re the best player in the room, and I wouldn’t mind getting a crack at that rack you’ve been in possession of whilst you play this rack.”

  He laughed at his own joke and Angie could see Becky took offence at his words but she watched Robert shoot her a warning glance and her friend didn’t respond. Steve let go of Becky, allowing her to adjust her clothing. During the last game of pool he’d had one hand down her bottoms and one hand up her top, groping and fondling her. Becky’s flushed face told volumes about the effect it had had on her. As she looked along the line she could see Pattie had her top up above her breasts, Pete having lowered his head to suckle at one of her exposed nipples. His hand traced designs on her mound, but outside her silk panties. Trish was leaning on Gray for support as he plundered her pussy, partially visible through the gaping slit of her dress. Of the three, Trish looked to be the closest to an orgasm, discounting Angie herself, and her legs seemed to be trembling as much as Angie’s.

  As Steve came up to the table he grinned at her. “Your break, I suppose.”

  She nodded and watched him from the corner of her eye as Robert finished resetting the balls and sauntered back over to the bar. Unlike Chris, Steve seemed happy to be close to her for each shot, and merely stood next to her, but slightly behind, as she took the break shot. It was another good break and two balls went down. She moved around the table to take her shot on the next ball—the two-ball, since the one had been potted at the break—and realized she had her back to everyone else for this shot. Again it was a bit of a stretch and she anticipated Steve touching her. He didn’t touch her as she crouched for the shot—well, not directly anyway—merely flipping her skirt up onto her back, exposing her naked ass and pussy. She shivered at the exposure and waited for his fingers to dive into use, but they didn’t—he just stepped back to admire the view. This seemed to amuse the other men and they chuckled and laughed as she made her shot and stood up
straight once again. The skirt fell back into place securing her modesty for a few seconds then, when she bent to line up the three–ball, Steve repeated the gesture, exposing her ass to everyone again.

  As she worked her way around the table, this process repeated itself time after time, and each time he refused to take liberties with her which resulted in her calming down, almost getting used to the exposure but still yearning to be touched, to achieve the high Chris had denied her. She potted the nine-ball, running the rack all the way through, Steve not having managed a single shot.

  “That’s a fifty spot you owe me.”

  She remained bent over, her skirt around her waist, her legs parted for balance, with her elbows cradling her cue as they rested on the table, and looked up at him over her shoulder. He pressed close to her, thrusting his pelvis into contact with her naked butt, and she could feel the weight of his erection nestling between her cheeks. She wiggled slightly then giggled as she heard him gasp.

  “Fifty, sweetie. You didn’t win any prize, sorry.”

  She pushed herself upright, forcing him to step back, and he handed her the banknote then, bending down, kissed her on the lips. She kissed him back as his arms wrapped around her, allowing his tongue to penetrate her mouth. Compared to her previous opponents, he had been the perfect gentleman apart from lifting her skirt at every opportunity. Given the others had fingered her and pillaged her pussy, she couldn’t really complain. The kiss left her just as breathless as Chris had left her when she’d been left high and dry almost within reach of cumming. She watched as he walked over to Gray and Trish, jerking his thumb at the table to tell Gray it was his turn to take on the pool-playing goddess.

  Gray raised his head from Trish’s neck where he’d been nuzzling the sensitive flesh, and Trish looked disappointed that yet again she was going to be passed to another man. Angie lowered her gaze and saw Gray had been treating Trish the same way Chris had been treating her—his fingers working on her exposed pussy, the dress pulled open and one side trapped between them, leaving her long legs and crotch exposed.