Snooker From the Goddesses

KNOWLEDGE OF THE SPORT OF SNOOKER WOULD HELP IN MAKING THIS STORY MORE INTERESTING. SOME NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED, SLIGHTLY*

Vicky Hoare made her way to the baggage carousel to pick up her luggage at Heathrow Airport. Her manager, Al 'Seedy' Seamen, was waiting for her outside in a hired car. They greeted each other, then he drove to the house they always stayed at. Al glanced at her and said,

"We've been getting plenty of media attention. If you can get through those 3 qualifiers, it'll fucking explode. Even back home."

"That's all good. Although, it'll be a miracle if I can get through those qualifiers. I've never even played a 2 session match. I need to put in some serious practice," Replied Vicky.

Vicky Hoare was a 23 year old girl from Las Vegas who had made her name as a pool player. Her success in that sport had led to some appearances in certain men's magazines. The sight of her in skimpy bikinis had only enhanced her popularity. She divided opinion amongst women. Older women thought she was trashy, flaunting her body at every opportunity. The younger generation seemed to admire her brash confidence. It was a middle finger to male chauvinism, and a thumbs up to modern feminism.

Vicky didn't have a problem with showing off her body. She'd always been used to men drooling over her. At one time, she'd even considered modeling full time. She wasn't short on offers to do photo shoots. All of them offering 6 figures. She didn't mind taking advantage of her awesome figure. But, she didn't want to be written off as a bimbo, like most girls who did glamor modeling. Just because she was a gorgeous, highly sexual woman, some people just assumed she couldn't be taken seriously. It was generally a male point of view.

Although, even without the sexy modeling pictures, that point of view would still have been a prevalent one. Vicky was a 5ft 6" blonde with big double D breasts. She was curvaceous, and had a flirtatious personality. She was a highly skilled pool player. But, her critics often cited her penchant for courting controversy. She was known for wearing revealing outfits in her matches. And her interviews were always anticipated. She rarely held back, often to the point of being blunt. She also had a habit of using sexual innuendos in her pre and post match interviews.

At the age of 21, she was making a comfortable living from playing pool and the occasional modeling shoot. Then, on a tour of Canada, she'd come across the game of snooker. She knew of the sport, of course, but she'd never really studied it, or even played the game. The table was daunting. 12ft by 6ft, and played with 21 larger balls. It was by far more tactical than pool. In fact, comparisons were ridiculous. It was like comparing chequers to chess. The more she learned, the more pool seemed like a silly game played on a toy table with bucket pockets.

When she got back to Las Vegas, she immediately invested in a brand new snooker table for $17,000. When she told Al Seamen she was interested in switching to snooker, he was aghast. He'd said,

"Nobody plays snooker in North America. We'd have to move to Europe. It's a professional game over there. And I'm pretty sure there's no money in the women's game. Let's stick to what we know. You picked up over $500,000 in total profits last year. This is a bad idea."

Of course, she knew that Al was protecting his 10 per cent.

"I'm not saying I'm going to be the world champion or anything. I just want to give it a shot. Pool's like a kids game compared to snooker. I'm not saying we switch forever. But, I want to see how far I can go. Look, for the time being, I want you to look into it, while I put in some practice and familiarize myself with the rules of the game," Replied Vicky, unwaveringly. Al had been a big help in her career. But, he was a money man. He wouldn't understand her need to achieve a sporting goal that superseded financial considerations.

Al Seamen had acquired the nickname, Seedy, because of his methods of creating media interest in his clients. There was always a perceived sexual element to their personalities. Vicky was currently his biggest client. It was his ideas that had elevated her to B list fame. He'd come up with her nickname, The Vegas Vixen. The revealing outfits had been her idea. But, it fell into line with his own plans to create a degree of notoriety. Even the website he'd had set up for her was a money maker. She had over 5 million subscribers, worldwide.

VegasVixen.com had all manner of information about Vicky Hoare. There was a weekly diary that she wrote herself. She even wrote about her personal life. Al encouraged her to include sexual innuendos. And he advised her to omit mentioning serious boyfriends. That could have a detrimental effect. A single girl was more popular than one in a relationship. There were photo galleries, calendars and even auctions for items of her clothing. In an auction for a pair of her panties, one fan had paid $2,000 for them. Some of the items weren't even genuine. Al would shrug and say, "What's the difference?"

Vicky started putting in the practice at home on her new table. She had to knock out a wall to place the table in an accessible position. Initially, knocking in long pots was almost impossible. After playing pool for so long, a snooker table seemed gigantic. The worst thing was not having anyone to practice with, because no one she knew even played the game. She soon realized the problems she would have in a match. At 5ft 6" she would have trouble reaching some shots. Instead of constantly using the rest implement, she started playing some shots left handed.

Women who played pool and snooker generally couldn't generate the same kind of power as a man. The problem was magnified on a 12ft table. Vicky had a 2 piece cue built for her specific needs. All cues had lead weights inside the butt end. She had a single lead weight inserted inside the entire length of the butt end. This made the cue much heavier, and she could generate power without putting her whole upper body into thrusting the cue. She really needed a practice partner, though. Playing on your own soon became tedious.

Al Seamen soon returned with his report on the professional set up.

"Well, it's not going to be easy. There's no money or coverage of the women's tour. A couple of women have got onto the men's tour. I don't think any of them got beyond the second round in any tournament. One interesting thing is the guy who runs the World Snooker Tour. His name is Barry Hearnia, and he's all about expanding the sport and bringing in more revenue. He used to manage that ginger guy, Davis. He's someone I can deal with. The Vegas Vixen could generate a lot of interest in the snooker world," He said, pensively.

One month later, Barry Hearnia received an email from the USA. He leaned back in his office chair as he read it. Vicky Hoare? He'd heard of the girl. Some kind of glamor model who played pool. It was an interesting story. Apparently, she now had ambitions of playing on the World Snooker Tour. And not the women's tour, either. Hearnia had been a promoter, and he could see the possibilities. Although, it would be a moot point if she couldn't play. He did a quick internet search on her. Wow! She was media gold. She had sex appeal coming out of every pore. He began typing a reply to Al Seamen's email.

The next day in Las Vegas, Al Seamen drove to Vicky's house. She opened the door, cue in hand. By now, she'd found a practice partner. He was a guy named Jim who played in a pool hall. The place had one snooker table, and Jim was easily the best player there. She was willing to pay him for his time. But, he knew who she was, and he was more than happy to spend a couple of hours every evening playing her. Vicky had to dress down for his visits. Too much flesh on display seemed to hinder his ability to concentrate.

Al walked in and looked at the table. Every time he saw this huge snooker table, the whole idea seemed insane. He eventually said,

"I got a reply from Barry Hearnia. He's not opposed to the idea. Obviously, it all boils down to your ability. The WST would love to crack the North American market. But, at the moment, it's a hard sell. They need a foothold, and you could help achieve that. Hearnia wants to see a video of you playing, before he commits to anything. But, as chairman of the governing body, he can hand out a tour wildcard."

Vicky was potting consecutive balls as her break reached 32. Jim respotted the black ball as she walked around the table, and replied,

"We can organize the video. My best break is up to 48. I haven't beaten Jim yet. But, I will. I just wish I'd taken the game up as a kid."

"So, what do you think, Jim? Has she got any potential?" Asked Al.

"Definitely. The transition from pool is huge. You don't play trick shots in snooker. It's all about cue ball control. I've been playing for years, and Vicky's nearly as good as me, already. As the saying goes, practice makes perfect," He replied, seriously.

Vicky missed a black on 41. She cursed, clearly frustrated. Her game was rapidly improving playing against Jim. He loved the game, and was a very good player. That was fairly impressive, given the fact that no one at the pool hall could even give him a decent game. They usually played about 5 frames an evening. Once she started winning frames, she decided they would play best of 5. As an added incentive, she would give him a blowjob if he won. She definitely didn't want him going easy on her. That would guarantee his best performance.

A month later, they were evenly matched. Jim arrived at her house after work. Before they started, Vicky suddenly said,

"Ok, Jim, let's make it more interesting. We'll play a best of 5 match. If I win, you'll have to wash and wax my car...naked. If you win, I'll give you a blowjob."

His eyes widened in surprise. Was she joking? He finally replied,

"There's no need for extreme stakes like that. Besides, I've got a girlfriend. Maybe we can play for something less provocative."

Vicky could see his mind weighing up her offer. Smiling, she said,

"A girlfriend, huh? You can't see much of her. I don't want to upset your relationship with her, and it won't. As long as you can keep a secret. I thought men liked cheating on their partners."

Jim was thinking about what he wanted to do, and what he should do.

"Look, I just want your best game. And this will guarantee it. I can see your brain ticking over. Let's be honest, Jim, you're definitely up for it. Unless you're religious, or morally uptight, I don't see a problem," She added casually, as if it was an unimportant issue.

Jim went silent for quite a while, before he eventually mumbled,

"Ok, we'll see how it goes."

He was feeling a little conflicted during the match, and was off his game. Vicky beat him 3-1, and decided against making him honor the bet. Clearly, he needed some time to think about all this.

"Tell you what, my car's looking ok today. You can go home to lick your wounds. Have a think about it. Bring your best game tomorrow, and if you're up for it, maybe I'LL be licking your wounds," She sultrily said.

The next day, Jim seemed more positive about the bet. He said,

"You caught me by surprise, yesterday. After giving it some thought, I think I can live with the consequences. And I can recommend a good carwash in town. I hope your mouth can do more than talk big."

"Don't worry about that. If I lose the bet, you'll be lucky to last 60 seconds," Replied Vicky with unreserved confidence in herself. Jim grinned as he prepared to break off. After a night of thinking about the bet, he decided it was impossible to refuse the chance of a blowjob from Vicky Hoare. Plenty of men would sacrifice a limb for even the remotest possibility of one.

The match turned out to be a scrappy affair. It wasn't the type of snooker either of them enjoyed. At least it would sharpen up Vicky's tactical game. It went to a deciding frame, which she won on the final red. Jim wanted to play on to try and recover 11 penalty points.

"Fuck that! No playing on for 3 snookers. We could be here all night if you play on for 3 snookers or more. The maximum is 2, or the frame's done. Now, when do you want to pay up, now or tomorrow?" Said Vicky, unwilling to risk her winning position.

Jim considered the choice. Vicky's house was fairly isolated. But her closest neighbor had a dog, and she could come around the bend to see him washing her car in the nude, looking like a male stripper hired for her birthday. He needed time to build himself up for the event. Although, in all honesty, he hadn't expected to lose. It seemed somewhat hubristic, given her abilities. He just thought that when it mattered, he would produce the goods. He eventually replied,

"I'll do it tomorrow, before we play. This is way outside my comfort zone."

The next evening, Vicky brought a chair outside to sit in as she watched. She'd made them both a strong drink. Jim finished his in 3 gulps to calm his nerves, while she waited outside sipping her drink. All the car washing and waxing implements had been laid out. All that was required now was a naked man to use them. A few minutes later, Jim walked outside completely naked. Vicky took in the sight of his body. It wasn't bad for a 42 year old. His circumcised penis looked above average. He was old enough to be her father. But, that only added to the appeal of the situation.

"I hope you're not expecting a professional job," He said, a little sheepishly. Vicky put a finger on her lip and giggled as she asked,

"That depends, do you mean the car wash or the dancing stripper?"

Jim rolled his eyes as he picked up the hose and replied,

"I'm definitely not dancing out here. I hope your neighbor doesn't make an appearance with her dog. A 30 minute job should be long enough, right?"

"Sounds reasonable," She said, watching him as he dunked the sponge and began washing her Mercedes. He was in decent shape. He did some kind of landscaping work, and it obviously kept him fit.

"Nice buns for an old man," Said Vicky as he bent over the hood.

"Old? I'm no senior citizen, young lady," He replied, grinning. He was beginning to relax. He kept an eye on the bend in case anyone appeared. Vicky was enjoying the show. She wished he'd get more of that soapy water on his body. It would have looked good. His chest was smooth and hairless. Men with hairy chests were a turn off to her. As he started the wax job, his dick was swinging around. She asked,

"So, how big does that schlong get when it's aroused?"

Jim was again taken aback by the casual way she talked about sexual matters. It wasn't much different to her talking about the weather.

"Well, I haven't measured it since I was a teenager. But, I can hold my own," He replied. Vicky raised an eyebrow and replied,

"Now, that I would love to see. By the way, does your girlfriend swallow your cum?"

Jim looked away, flustered by the blunt question. He eventually said,

"Errr...no. I've never met a girl who does that."

"It's an acquired taste. Some men's cum is a watery slime. Then, there's the thicker, white cream. The creme de la creme," She replied like a connoisseur.

Jim glanced at her as he continued waxing the car. She was staring at his dick. Along with her erotic talk, it was getting him aroused. He tried to finish the wax job as quickly as he could. He didn't want to be walking around her driveway with an erection. Vicky crossed her legs as she finished her drink. She was enjoying the control she had over him. He could control his limbs, but not his dick. That appendage had a mind of its own. She took pleasure in the fact that she could so easily put men off balance. Meek and demure she was not.

Jim finished the wax job, and hurried inside to put on his clothes. He had a semi erection that Vicky eyed intently. She was trying to estimate its size when hard. She loved cocks, and the bigger, the better. A length that could accommodate 2 hands. Girth that could stretch her pussy out. Jim's cock looked like it could reach the 7 inch mark. It could even be bigger. Some dicks had different rates of inflation. She'd known a guy who was 3.5 inches soft, and 8 inches hard. It was an annoying fact that big breasts could easily be spotted. But, big cocks were hidden away.

10 minutes later, they started the snooker match. Jim was thinking about getting a blowjob in an hour or two. After all Vicky's talk, he was expecting something special. One thing was for sure, she was nothing like his girlfriend...or any of his previous girlfriends. There seemed to be a sexual element to everything she did. She could make dung chemistry sound sexy. And she'd already intimated she liked swallowing cum. She was too young for him, of course. She was a bundle of energy that he wouldn't be able to keep up with.

He was certain he'd win this time. The first 4 frames were shared. It went to a decider, in which Jim had a 40 point lead with 3 reds left. Vicky was wearing a tiny pair of denim shorts, and as she bent over the table to take her shot, she could practically feel his eyes on her ass. She paused momentarily, turning to look at him as she said,

"Don't go thinking you've got me on my knees yet, old man."

"And don't go thinking I'm gonna lose a 40 point lead, young lady," Jim replied with a smile. No way would he lose this frame.

He went a little too defensive, trying to mess up the table. His negative tactics lead to a bad mistake. He still didn't fancy her chances. The table was in an unorthodox state. None of the colors were on their spots, and the reds were in the balk end. Even Vicky didn't think her chances were great. She just wanted to close the gap for now. She sunk the first red and a blue. Somehow she had a shot at the next red. She sunk a difficult shot down the side rail, and followed it with another blue. She needed to clear the whole table to win.

Jim still thought it was unlikely. Vicky's positional play often let her down on a pressure shot. He thought she was going to play safe, but she banked the last red. She sunk the brown, but couldn't get close to the yellow. It was a tough, long pot, and she'd have to screw the cue ball all the way back to balk. Even the great Ronaldo Sullivan probably would have played safe. But, Vicky had a golden rule. It was better to lose a frame going for a pot than a bad safety shot. If the chance was there, you had to go for it, because you could regret it later.

She psyched herself up for the pot. Her heavy cue would help on this type of shot. Keep your head still and deliver the cue smoothly, she told herself. She cracked the cue ball and the yellow rattled in the jaws before dropping. The white spun back towards balk to give her a shot at the green. It was probably the best shot she'd ever played. Jim watched in amazement as she sunk the green, brown and blue. The pink was his last chance. The cue ball would have to travel 10ft to get on the black. She potted the pink, and they both watched the white rolling down the table. Jim had a sinking feeling as it kept going, finally stopping a foot from the black.

Vicky rolled the black in to win the frame and match. She grinned,

"I think my car's ok today. Some old guy did a good job of a wash and wax earlier. I'll keep that one on hold for the time being."

"That's a relief. I'll be out for revenge tomorrow," Replied Jim as he left. She was improving all the time. He knew she was practicing on her own for hours during the day. She was deadly serious about going professional. He watched a lot of snooker, and she still had a long way to go to even compete against the lowest ranked men.

The next day, Jim's hopes of revenge were dashed in less than an hour. He was soundly beaten 3-0. Vicky was in top form, making her highest ever break of 81 in the second frame. After the match, he was embarrassed by the scoreline. She rubbed it in by saying,