Role Playing Deception

The biker boyfriend I had in my twenties was somewhat of a cuckold and would often share me with his friends. The promiscuous person that I am, I rather enjoyed that quality in his character.

We had also done some role-playing in the past. He approached me with another classic role-playing idea. The tried-and-true scenario of the single lady being picked up in a bar by a stranger.

Rather intrigued with his proposal, we discussed a course of action. He suggested using the biker bar across town that he frequents. He also suggested that this Thursday night would be perfect. "Why Thursday?" I asked, "I have work on Friday."

He told me, "Honey, it's a biker bar, you probably wouldn't want to be there any other night."

"OK, whatever." Was my reply.

The classic scenario was confirmed, drop me off, he would return an enter about 15 minutes later. We would talk, he would buy me a drink. We would show an interest in each other and proceed from there.

We discussed touching each other in a flirtatious manner and the possibility of exchanging a kiss or two. Full anticipating our actions should have attracted the attention of every patron in the place.

At that point, increasing our passion, I would allow him to open a button or two of blouse. And it was proposed that I place a hand on his crotch. We wanted to ensnare the audience with our debauchery.

He also informed me that the place could get a bit rowdy at times. If any issues arise, that I should talk to the bar tender, his name is Jimmy. Tell him you are waiting for Carlos.

Next, we discussed my attire. I was to wear my, (revealing), black, plunge neck, button down cardigan. It's a loose-fitting material, intended to be worn without a bra. My tight black jeans and my black boots with the four-inch heel.

Thursday night arrives and I arrayed myself as we discussed. In his truck before our departure, he produced from his shirt pocket a joint. Handing it to me he says, "Here, smoke this before we get there."

He knows smoking weed makes me lascivious. I told him, "I don't think this is necessarily."

He requested I smoke it. He thought that "A good buzz would help you loosen up."

Concerned that I would not be in control of my faculties, I didn't smoke the whole thing. But by the time we arrived at our destination, I could already feel its slight influence creeping into my head.

Looking into his eyes, I hesitated before reaching for the handle. He said, "See, that is why I wanted you to loosen up before arriving." He assured me that I would be fine. We kissed goodbye and he drove away.

A deep breath and I headed for the door. The pull of the solid wooden door made a loud squeeeak when opened. Two steps inside and every eye was fixed on me.

When entering the room, I passed four men seated at the bar near the door. Two other men seated at the far end of the bar.

Observing several empty stools at the middle of the bar, I casually ambled over and took a seat. The bartender approached inquiring, "You must be Judy. What would you like to drink?"

Surprised and puzzled, I said, "Yes!? Are you Jimmy?"

He says, "Yeah, Carlos told me to expect you. What are you drinking?"

"How are you at making Long Island Iced Teas?" Was my reply.

Nothing was said, he went right to grabbing bottles and mixing my libation. A confusing thought occurred to me, "he was expecting me?" The thought passed as Jimmy placed my drink before me.

A large mirror on the wall behind the bar made it possible to covertly scan the room. Behind me were scattered smaller tables. A wide rail with stools on each side of it separated this room from another room containing two pool tables.

A small dance floor and smaller raised stage to my right at the back. Three rather rough looking biker types playing pool at one of the tables.

All six men seated at the bar, occasionally straining to get a better look at me. I felt as if they had never encountered a woman before. I just sat sipping my drink, awaiting Carlos's arrival.

One of the guys that was playing pool sauntered up to the bar with an empty beer pitcher. Noticeably eyeing me in the reflection of the mirror while waiting for it to be refilled.

He turned to me and said, "Hi!"

Acknowledging him I said, "Hello.

He asked, "You by yourself?"

I replied, "Yep, for now."

He asked, "Oh, you are waiting for somebody?"

Attempting to be mischievous I answered, "Always."

"Good answer." Was his reply.

He paid for and retrieved his pitcher of beer and headed back to the pool table. I just sat patiently waiting for my romantic stranger to appear. Anxiously sipping at my drink more often than I should.

Slightly embarrassed by the echoing slurps from my empty glass, the bartender returned asking if I would like another. Realizing I'd look foolish sitting there without one, I answered, "Yes please."

Shortly after getting my drink, the guy from the pool table returned. He very cordially stated, "Don't wait by yourself, come join us. There are three of us playing pool. If you join us, we can play teams. Do you know how to play?"

I said, "I can play."

This was a slight deviation from the original plan, but no other suitors had made an effort, so I said, "OK."

His friends appeared extremely pleased when I approached the table. The guy announced, "This is..."

I introduced myself, "Judy."

"Hi Judy." Their names aren't important.

We selected teams. My partner was the guy that originally approached me. The balls were racked, and my teammate broke.

That's when it dawned on me, this is not an appropriate top to wear when playing pool. I am rather large breasted and positive my tits would be exposed. I contemplated my next move.

The combine effects of the hemp and alcohol allowed me to justify my decision to go for it. After all, I had my tits enhanced to be noticed. Plus, it's been more then fifteen minutes. Carlos should be arriving any second.

Awoke from my deliberation by, "It's your turn, we are stripes."

I approached the table, eyeing my shot. Thinking to myself, here we go, I bent to take the shot. The guy across the table watching me expressed his appreciation stating. "Oh yeah! Nice!"

I glanced at him, then brought my chin to my chest to inspect the amount of my exposure. I was reassured that this was not the top to wear while playing pool. The two guys standing behind me were unaware of the reveal.

Successful with the first shot, a complication arose with the second. Having to lean further over the table proved to be a problem. I was unable to do it without disturbing the other balls with my breast.

The guys, understanding my dilemma, started to laugh. I asked, " What do I do?"

My teammate provided me with one of those sticks with the bridge on the end. I missed the shot and stood next to him. While scrutinizing my chest he tells me, "You're playing with a handicap." We both laughed at the comment.

Surprised by their proficiency, the game was over before getting another shot. The balls were racked again, and I was asked if I wanted to break. Having done it in the past, my confidence falsely bolstered by my inebriation, I assert, "Sure, I can do that!"

Bent, ready to smack the cue ball. The guy that observed my display while taking my first shot interrupts me. He goes, "Wait, wait, wait."

Beckoning his friends with his fingers, laughing, he tells them, "Come here, check this out."

I knew his motive was to share with his friends what he had witnessed the first time that I bent to shoot. They stood across the table, unsure why they were called there. He says, "OK, go ahead, break."

My second drink gone on top of the aphrodisiac that I had smoked; my modesty was tenuous at best. The anxiety that I felt earlier was no longer an issue. I bent to line up the shot, I hear some appreciative laughter, and someone says, "Look at those tits!!"

I glance up at the guys enthusiastically glaring at my chest. I shimmy my tits for them, then strike the ball. Fuck, I missed the whole rack completely. A guy grabbed the ball and rolled it back to me. Saying, "Try again."

I tell him, "Guess I'm not very good at breaking."

Another guy says, "That's OK, we like watching you try."

More laughing. I bend, presenting them my chest again. Teasing them, I sway my tits a bit, and shoot. Soundly hitting my target, but disappointed nothing went in.

Standing next to my partner. He told me while ogling my chest, "They are very impressive."

I thanked him but admitted, "They do get in the way on occasion."

He replies, "They don't look like a problem to me."

It is my partners turn to shoot. He walks to the table studying his shot. Looks up at me and blows me a kiss. He puts a few balls in eventually missing and returns to my side. Kidding, he tells me, "You disrupted my shot."

"But I was just standing here." Was my reply.

He said, while looking at my tits, "They are extremely distracting."

The drinks are kicking in and I am getting comfortable. I told him, "Maybe if we want to win this time, I should distract them."

He was emphatic, "Do it! Do it!"

I approached the pocket the guy was aiming for, stretched my arms back, extending my chest. Told him, "Don't mind me, I'm just limbering up before my next shot."

He dropped the end of his stick and lowered his head, laughing, he says, "That's just not fair."

I said, "What?! What did I do?"

He recuperated and again attempted to line up the shot. I momentarily positioned my ass cheek on the table, partially covering the hole. My interruption concluded, I returned to my partner.

Unsure if it was my actions that were effective, but he missed the shot. It is my turn again. I positioned myself and bowed to take the shot. All three guys standing across from me to partake of the view. I just smiled at them. Unfortunately, my shot went awry.

The next guy is preparing to shoot when everything came to a standstill as the door squeeeaked open.

Wondering to myself, what took him so long. Then somewhat baffled when it wasn't Carlos. My mind is clouded, I contemplated, maybe I haven't been here as long as I thought.

I didn't notice one of the guys had slipped away, until he returned celebrating with the four shot glasses in his hands. He doled them out and said, "Wait a second."

Returning seconds later with a napkin full of lemon wedges. Feeling obligated, I downed the shot to cheers. The game continued.

My turn in the rotation and I am bent, aiming, preparing to shoot. Knowing full well my chest is on display. One of the guys says, "Take as long as you want."

There is more laughter. My discretion decreasing with every passing moment. Smiling up at them I gave my tits a little shake, then finally striking the ball, crap missed again.

Returning to my partner's side to find he had purchased me another drink. He said, "I saw you were empty."

I thanked him, telling him, "I don't want to seem ungrateful, but this will be my third one."

He tells me. "No problem, just sip it, you don't have to finish it."

His actions are becoming a bit bolder. While stroking the front of my shoulder with the back of his fingers, he tells me, "Your tits are amazing."

Striving to display an interest, he inquired, "How big are they?"

I told him, "Triple D."

He tells me, "Well, me and the guys were thinking you should open a couple more buttons."

Already feeling a little audacious, and considering Carlos should be here any second, I replied, "Only two."

My top now opens scandalously to the bottom of my tits. He says teasingly, "Wow, they are... I mean you are amazing."

Turning toward the table and displaying my new fashion statement, his friends nodding their approval. The excitement level at the table was surging. My appetite for attention was being fulfilled.

My turn and I assumed the position. The guys are no longer evasive with their actions. One guy with his head practically on the table. The other two jockeying for a better position.

I was amused by their behavior. Again, I put my chin to my chest to inspect their motivation. What I viewed was my left breast, mostly exposed, hanging slightly into the material. My right breast hung entirely exposed from my blouse.

Aroused by the sight of my exposure, my nipples became rigid. After missing yet another shot, as I stood, the materiel hooked on my nipple. With an, "Oops!" I just calmly fixed my top.

The guys thought that was hilarious and were vocal with their approval. I asked, "What, you never seen a nipple before?"

One guy answered, "Not one that pretty."

Standing next to my partner I hear a commotion behind me. I turn to see the patrons that were seated at the bar are competing for stools at the rail. I had to assume they were alerted to my display.

After my nonchalant attitude about revealing myself, I think the guys perceived it acceptable to act more brazen. I assumed that because of the actions of two of the guys.

One guy while walking by, hesitated in front of me, slightly pulled the material away from my chest to peak at my tits. My partner, while I stood next to him, rested his hand on my ass with his thumb hooked inside the top of my pants.

My turn again and I don't have a shot. My partner suggesting that I try a bank shot. Standing behind me, looking over my shoulder, I feel him press against me. He then put an arm around my waist.

We bent together to line up the shot. Aware of his crotch against my ass, I pushed back against him. Unsure what I was aiming at and slightly distracted, I missed again. We were facing away from crowd that time so there was no hoopla.

The other guys making fun of him, saying, "Oh, help me, help me."

We moved to the rail, his hand on my ass again. Unconsciously sipping at my drink to realize I had finished it. Astonished I was somewhat maintaining composure, but not surprised my sexual promiscuity was escalating.

I had almost forgot about Carlos. Where the hell is he? It's been over an hour. My concern was set aside as I see one of the guys approaching with another round of shots.

Standing together we hoisted our drinks and downed them with fanfare. Now it is my partner's turn. He's lining up a shot and I'm getting a bit anxious, where are you Carlos?

I'm eager to have some fun. As my partner assisted me previously, I thought it would be entertaining to feign helping him.

As he was aiming, I approached him from behind. Expressing my wish to help him, I put my hand around his waist and bent, placing my chest firmly against his back. Telling him, "Let me help you. Hit it straight."

Even through his laughter he made the shot. He thanked me for the help, and we actually won that game. I was asked if I wanted to break again but declined the invitation.

My partner standing next to me, put his hand on my ass then brought it up under my top rubbing the bare skin of my back. When I didn't display a reaction, he slid his hand further around my side, cupping and giving my breast a pleasant squeeze.

A chill of exhilaration ran throughout my body. His hand remained there for a few seconds before walking to the table. I noticed him share a few words with one of his friends. That friend approached me asking if I would like another drink.

I begged, "Please, no more. I have had too much as it is."

He remained by my side. Holding his cue stick as if it were a walking stick. His hand positioned on the stick at the same height as my chest. I wasn't surprised when he leaned it toward me, the back of his hand against my side. His pinky finger extended caressing my breast.

I knew then that my partner had conveyed the cavalier attitude that I displayed while being molested.

I noticed the demeanor around the table changing. The guy's shots aren't as accurate. And I didn't think it was from the alcohol. Their shots are hasty and careless. It occurred to me; they just want to gawk at my nakedness as I bend at the table.

My turn again and I'm about ready to have some fun. My modesty retired after yielding my breast to their inspection. I knew just what to do.

I bend to line up the shot. Once again, my breast is fully exposed. This time I'm facing that center rail. Looking up at my partner I ask, "What, no help this time?"

Leaving his vantage point, he charges around the table, placing his hand around my waist and grinding his crotch into my ass. Every eye in the place was scrutinizing my chest.

What happened next was truly unexpected. My intention was to be purely comical. I thought that it would be funny to take the hand that was around my waist, bring it to my chest and let him hold it, as if to hide it from the group staring at me.

Obviously, we weren't on the same page. Next thing I know, his other hand came around and he grabbed my other breast The surprised look on my face caught by one of the guys at the counter must have been hilarious. He started laughing and clapping.

I dropped my stick to support myself. He has me bent over the table pushing into my ass, groping my chest. I pushed myself up to a standing position and enjoyed the first true molestation of the night.

My breasts in his hands, held openly for all to enjoy. The guys at the rail, mouths open, eyes locked on the sight before them. I was in a hypnotic state. Unsure how to proceed.

A second later my partners friends joined the assault of my boobs. The position I was in was not very convenient for anyone. I told them. "Wait a second guys, let me turn around."

My ass against the table made it accommodating for everyone. It gave me two free hands with which I was able to find two available crotches. And allowed them improved access to their quest.

Not more than ten seconds go by when I hear, "Hey guys, how's it going?!!"

Oh my gosh, it was Carlos. Where the hell was he? And moreover, where did he come from. I never heard the squeak of the door.

We all froze. It must have been a sight to see. Standing there looking at him with three guys latched onto my tits. Caught red handed, (no pun intended), I thought that I would try to deflect the blame.

I asked, "Where the hell have you been? It's been almost two hours?"

He's laughing, says, "Yeah, sorry, I know."

I was perplexed that the guys were not motivated to remove their hands upon his arrival. Even more baffled when one of the guys said, "Dude, your girlfriend is fucking hot."

I was at a loss for words. Then I asked Carlos, "You know these guys!?"

The guilt was all over his face. He hesitated and said, ... aaa.... yeah."

Meanwhile the guys are still indulged with my breasts. Then I had an epiphany, this whole thing was orchestrated. I was pissed off. I needed a second and I think the guys knew it. They backed off.

Thinking back on the whole incident I should have picked up on the little things that now registered. Like, "We had to go on a Thursday", and, the bartender, "was expecting me."

Oh man, I got had. I tried to stay mad, but honestly, I was enjoying myself. And I'm sure Carlos knew things would turn out the way they did. I didn't let on that I was OK with the whole thing.

Carlos says, "Don't be mad babe. I set this up a week ago and knew that by the time it was all over you would have enjoyed yourself."

He wasn't wrong. I tilted my head and rolled my eyes. He says, "That's my girl."

Then he tells me in a rather controlling way, "We should probably take this outside. I expect you want to finish what you started."

I knew what he was wanted. In the past, once I've started any type of sexual conduct with his friends, it was expected that I see it through. He tells them, "Come on guys, let's go outside."

Scrutinized by all on our trek through the bar and out the door, we arrive at Carlos's truck. I expected the guys would "take" me in the truck. Carlos had a different idea.