Pool Table Trouble

I felt the cool air of the pub's air conditioning as it drifted over my body, affecting the hardness of my nipples in an obvious way. I hoped no one would notice how much my hard nipples pushed against my silky blouse but, looking down, I knew that was not possible. As we sat down at an empty table, I was beginning to regret my outfit. It had been chosen by my husband and now I wondered why I gave in to his wishes.

"Come on, honey, I want to make all the other men there horny and all the women there jealous. You know you are beautiful and you know how much I love you. I just want to show you off tonight." I was a real sucker for his compliments. I knew that most compliments offered by men were offered to accomplish a purpose and were not really sincere. But somehow, almost every time, Eric's compliments worked on me and I usually gave in to what he wanted. And tonight was no different. So here we were at our favorite pub, and I was wearing the sexiest outfit I have ever worn. A silky and almost transparent blouse that clearly showed my lacy and totally transparent bra, and a black leather skirt that was so short I couldn't sit down without showing my lacy and totally transparent panties. SHIT! Why do I listen to him?

Eric and I were married seven years ago. My name is Jacqueline but everyone calls me Jacki. He was twenty-four and I was three years younger. As soon as I finished college, my mother really pushed me to get married and I gave in. I asked Eric to marry me in May as I graduated and we had the typical and very romantic June wedding. Looking back on it, I wonder if it was because Mom didn't want me to move back home. Regardless, we got married and it has been mostly good.

So, we have been married for seven years and over the last year we have tried some things to spice up our marriage. The marriage wasn't going bad, but I have to admit that things were becoming a bit routine. So we decided to try some things to make marriage more interesting. Little things, like Eric kissing me on the sidewalk in front of a store, and then grabbing my boob and squeezing it. Or like Eric dropping his wallet at the grocery store and I would bend over in a very short skirt to show off my new thong. Or once we stopped at a bar we had never been to and we sat one those high stools at the bar. And with my back to the bar, I spread my legs and let the men who were fortunate enough to be watching see up my skirt, all the way to my newly-shaved and very naked pussy.

But the biggest risk we have taken so far was when I gave him a blow job while he was standing in the bushes outside of a really nice restaurant. Anyone wandering by could see Eric from the waist up, but no one could see me as I knelt in front of him and sucked his dick. And this excited Eric so much that he couldn't last very long.

So, lately we had been experimenting with doing things in public that I would never have done a few years ago. But I have to admit that these activities really turned me on. Whatever we decided to do, when we got home I nearly raped him because I was so excited. Of course, rape requires that one party is unwilling and Eric is always willing. But the truth is, I simply jumped his bones and frantically stripped him before I jumped on his cock and fucked his brains out.

You see, we love sex, and we have sex frequently, usually every day. Between the two of us, one or the other of us initiates sex every day and we fuck in any room in the house and even in the back yard. Plus I give him a blow job every day. As much as I love feeling Eric's hard cock pounding my pussy, I just love sucking him off. And I love even more feeling his cum in my mouth as I swirl it around with my tongue and then swallow it.

I love cum. I mean, I really love cum. I love cum so much that Eric will regularly jack off in my morning coffee. Or my favorite is his cum on ice cream. Did I mention that I love cum? And my cock-sucking skills are legendary. At least among the dozen or so men I dated in college.

And lately, Eric has shared his fantasy of me sucking off a stranger, or even more than one stranger at the same time. Naturally, I totally rejected that fantasy, but over the next few days I have to admit that my mind returned to our discussion frequently, and created short fantasies of my going down on a friend or a neighbor, or even a total stranger. And these fantasies, initially his but now mine, always made me wet. I haven't told Eric yet, but I might be open to it.

Anyway, we were at a local Irish pub that we frequent two or three times a month. We love the selection of beer and we have become friends with a number of regulars there. And, of course, there are several regulars there that we simply don't want to be friends with. And I saw two of them shooting pool at one of the three pool tables in the back of the pub. Stan, probably our least favorite regular here, was shooting tonight.

"Shit, Eric, do you see who is shooting pool tonight?" Eric seemed to take the news with a grin.

"Yes, he has been bragging about how good he is and Jerry suggested I take him on." I noticed that Eric seemed to be avoiding my eyes. I immediately cautioned him.

"Eric, we have shot a lot of pool over the years, and you are good. In fact, when you are on, you are really good. But, Eric, sometimes you are not on and then you are erratic. Every time you are on, you win money. But every time you aren't, you lose money. Please don't shoot against Stan." I was trying hard to make this sound like a suggestion, but in truth I was pleading with him. The worse he was shooting, the higher his bets, and I didn't think we could afford his betting right now.

"You know, baby, you are right. Maybe you should shoot against him. You are really good and you never seem to have ups and downs. You are consistent and that is good."

I suddenly felt like I was being set up. Yes, I was really good, but I had never shot for money. I was so good that none of our friends would shoot against me any more. In fact, even the regulars here would only play me for fun and not for money. But I wasn't the hustler here. Eric was the one who liked to play for money. And sometimes he won, but sometimes he lost. Just then, Jerry waved at us and seemed to rush over to us.

"Glad you are here. Do you see who is playing? He has been taking on all comers and winning. He is up more than five hundred so far. You really need to take him on so I can win some of my money back." Jerry was the real gambler around here. He was always willing to put money on something. During the football season, he was almost obnoxious about betting, trying to get everyone around him to bet with him. And I have to admit, he is usually up about fifty dollars each Sunday.

Apparently, Jerry knows his football.

But tonight, it appeared that Jerry did not know his pool players. I could see Eric's pupils widen as he considered challenging Stan to a game. Which, I knew, would morph into several games with the stakes being higher with every additional game. Suddenly, I had a vision of us losing our vacation fund tonight and I did not want to lose our vacation fund! And just as suddenly, I saw both Eric and Jerry looking expectantly at me. And even more suddenly, Stan was in front of us with an extra pool cue in his hand.

"Okay, Eric, you are next. Table is open and I want to win some more money." If I had ever seen an evil glare, this was it. The greedy glance he gave Eric matched with the lustful gaze he gave me added up to an evil glare. And Eric just laughed, holding up his left hand.

"Sorry, man. I had an accident yesterday and fell on my hand. All sorts of pain. Can't shoot tonight." The expression of pain and disappointment on Eric's face was worthy of an Academy Award and I had to hide my grin about his fictitious accident. Stan examined Eric's face for any sign he was lying and apparently didn't find any. Then his face lit up and he turned to me. I felt my skin crawl at his examination. Did I mention I didn't like Eric?

"Well, then, I guess it falls to you to fight for your husband. And I confess that I wouldn't mind getting you bent over the table tonight." I resisted the urge to spit in Stan's face and just smiled sweetly.

"Stan, I doubt you could get anyone but a whore to bend over the table for you, and even a whore would charge you extra." Stan laughed at my insult.

"Ah, that's where you are wrong. I already had Karen bent over the table earlier tonight." He laughed again, this time at his own words. And he turned as a very beautiful woman dressed in a very sexy outfit walked up to us.

Karen was his newest girlfriend. They had been together for about three months, if I remembered. And to be honest, I really didn't understand how Stan could land such a beautiful woman. She had long blonde hair that fell to the small of her back. Her boobs were at least a D-Cup, most of which were on display tonight. Her slender waist and tight ass showed that her main activity in life was working out. She wore a short skirt and a loose, bulky sweater with a deep V-neck that I knew would fall open if she bent over the table as Stan claimed. I didn't really know her but she seemed to outclass Stan by a few light-years. Karen gave me a cold glance for a second, and then smiled at Stan. Her question showed a little excitement.

"Honey, are you picking another player? The others back there won't play anymore because you took all their money." Her gloating smile was flashed to Eric and then to me. Jerry, she just ignored.

"No, sweetheart, Eric won't play me. Seems he hurt his hand and can't shoot tonight." There was silence around us as several of the pub regulars waited to see what was going to happen. Then Jerry broke the silence.

"What about Jacki? She shoots pretty good. In fact, she beats Eric quite often, which is why Eric won't shoot against her anymore. I bet fifty that she can beat you in the first game."

There it was. Challenge offered, and apparently I didn't have a choice in the matter.

Eric turned to me. He and I had never shot against each other. In fact, I didn't think he had ever seen me play. So he examined me, head to toe and then back up to boobs. I had the sensation of insects scrabbling up and down my back as he focused on my boobs, slightly visible through my transparent blouse and bra. And then Stan looked up into my eyes with a grin.

"I think I would take pleasure in playing with you." He chuckled and his girlfriend giggled. The comment was funny to him and insulting to me.

"Then it's settled." Jerry's announcement seemed to generate more than a little excitement from the customers near us.

"Wait. I haven't agreed to this." My protest was totally ignored as at least a dozen people moved toward the pool tables in the back. I tried to look at Eric but he seemed to be avoiding eye contact with me. And suddenly, I knew what the phrase 'railroaded' meant. I sighed in resignation and followed the crowd. The fans gathered around the tables, some even dragging stools to sit while watching the match. I was the last to arrive, and was greeted by Stan's leer.

"Sweetie, I will even let you break." And he grinned as if that was an honorable thing to do. I just ignored him and picked up a cue stick. I carefully examined the tip and then chalked it just a little.

"Let's get this over with so I can go back to my pleasant evening. One game for fifty dollars." There were murmurs as people made some additional bets. I was both insulted and excited that most of the bets I overheard favored Stan. But that just meant we would pocket more if I won the rack. I looked over at Eric to see that he was finally looking at me, and his face showed a confident smile. I smiled back at him with a little less confidence.

Don't get me wrong. I was good and I knew it. But I had never played for money before and I wasn't sure how the additional pressure would affect my game. I watched as Stan racked the balls, trying to focus on the break.

I bent low over the table to line up my shot and heard a moan behind me. Suddenly, I jerked straight, remembering my short skirt and totally transparent panties, and realizing that my outfit demanded that I walk away from the game. I knew that any moans or other noises behind me would totally ruin my focus. I stood there for a moment, searching out Eric. The agony in my eyes was quite obvious but Eric only smiled, love and confidence in his eyes. I looked at him in silence for several seconds before someone spoke.

"Perhaps you can get the bartender to loan you a towel. I am sure he could find a dry towel somewhere. Of course, it will probably be too small to help cover your pussy." The snide comment came from Karen, and I knew it was meant to rattle me. Truthfully, it wasn't just my pussy that would be on display. With all the cleavage I was flashing, I knew that most of my boobs would be easily visible as I bent over for each shot. So, right then, I made my decision. I was going to focus and win, no matter what I exposed to the people watching.

Inhaling slowly and then exhaling slowly, I bent over and lined up my shot. I heard applause when I sunk a high ball in the corner pocket. But the applause couldn't drown out the moans behind me as I shot. I felt my face turn a little red, but decided again to focus on the game. When I sank the next ball, Stan had to make a comment, obviously intended to embarrass me.

"I think the view is worth the fifty dollars, whether I win or lose." I turned and snapped at him.

"Why? You don't get any views at home? Or is it that the views you get at home are not as enjoyable?" I glared at him for just a second and then turned to the table to consider my next shot. And I was really irritated when I felt my pussy tingle its excitement. As I bent over for my next shot, I spread my feet a little farther apart than before, and the moans and comments reflected the improved view.

I paused to focus, and then made the third shot. The room went quiet and I noticed that most of the pub customers had moved to the pool tables. I thought for a moment that the show they were seeing was worth a lot more than fifty dollars. For just a second, I considered asking admission for the show. But I bent over the table to line up my next shot anyway. I could feel my blouse fall open and the cool air wash over my boobs, and it seemed to give me energy. I moved my shoulders from side to side slightly, just enough to make by boobs sway, and I heard several people moan at the view. Then I took my shot, missing the fourth ball. The moans were real this time, indicating that most of the people watching were solidly on my side.

"Oh, that's too bad. Flashing all that and you still missed the shot. Hardly seems worth it, right?" I turned to him, a shriveling expression on my face.

"Why don't you ask the audience if it was worth it?" And I walked over to Eric, who was holding a beer for me. But my short trip of three steps was interrupted by cheers and applause, indicating that the audience appreciated the show I was putting on, and it made my pussy tingle even more.

Suddenly, I realized that I was truly enjoying the show, even turned on by flashing everyone. I couldn't hide my grin as I reached for the beer Eric was holding out for me. And I saw Stan scowl at me and then at the audience. I grinned at him, knowing he was clearly aware of the fact that the people watching the game had chosen their favorite. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him, but it was a struggle.

I watched Stan sink two of his low balls and then miss the third. And then I walked up to the table opposite him.

"Too bad. Maybe if you flashed some cleavage you might be able to shoot better." The pub exploded in laughter and I noticed Karen was laughing. I thought about that for just a second before turning to the table to consider my next shot. I had four balls left and Stan had five. So I needed to make a shot that left me in a good position for the next shot. I mean, FUCK, if I am going to flash my body, then I am going to win the game! My silent conversation filled me with even more resolve.

As I lined up my next shot, I found myself wiggling my ass back and forth without even thinking about it. I grinned as I heard someone moan loudly.

"Fuck! What an ass!" The comment wasn't very quiet and a number of people in the crowd laughed quietly. I decided to respond without taking my eyes from my next shot.

"Better enjoy that ass. I climb twelve flights of stairs three times a week to maintain that tight ass just so you can enjoy a game of pool a little more." I noticed a number of people laughed at that, including Karen. I decided that maybe Karen wasn't as much of a bitch as I initially thought her to be.

I dropped the next four shots, leaving me with only the eight ball on the table. I continued to have fun with my shots, putting on a very sexy and exciting display for the people. I found that I was having more fun flashing my boobs and pussy for people than I was having by winning the game, and apparently that fun affected my last shot. I lined up my final shot but I missed it, receiving groans and even encouraging comments from a number of people there. Eric, who had been surprisingly quiet, made his expected snide remark.

"That's what you get for focusing more on audience appreciation than on the game." I quickly retorted.

"Yes, the audience does seem to appreciate my game." There were a number of laughs and even comments, with several people offering applause for my comeback. Stan glared at me, knowing he had lost public appeal to me and he obviously didn't like it. His irritation caused him to rush his next shot and he failed to sink it.

That left me with the eight ball shot and the win. And suddenly I had a disgusting and very exciting thought. I turned to Stan with a grin.

"Okay, Stan. Double or nothing I make this last shot." There were several encouraging comments from the audience, and then my grin spread even wider.

"Triple or nothing if I make the shot with a buttplug in my ass." This made the sexual content of the game take front place and brought lots of comments and even a few cheers.

"And two hundred bucks says I make the last shot topless and with a butt plug in my ass." The shouts made it obvious that the audience liked this option. I let the crowd settle down but noticed that Stan had still said nothing. And then I had a really evil thought.

"And another hundred bucks says I can make the shot with a butt plug up my ass, my top on the floor, and your girlfriend sitting on the corner pocket with her legs spread and her naked pussy offering me a distraction. If I can put the goods on display in support of my husband, then Karen can put the goods on display in support of you. How about it, Stan? Three hundred bucks or you walk away the loser." I waited, challenge obvious in my eyes and on my face and in my stance.

After several seconds challenging Stan, I glanced over at Karen to see her reaction, and I was surprised to see a smile on her face. Clearly, she was not running away from this challenge. In fact, she stepped forward to stand in front of me, still smiling.

"Come on, Stan. It's only three hundred and you are already up five hundred for the night. Besides, it will make you famous." She grinned at him and then turned to me. Slowly, she bent over at the waist and reached under her skirt with both hands. In seconds, she pulled her very tiny black panties down her legs and stepped out of them. She tossed her panties to Stan, who caught them and held them to his nose without thinking. Then she turned back to me.

"I hope I will be some distraction for you." She gave me a sweet smile, not at all like what I expected. I paused for a second and returned her smile, an open and even warm smile.