The One You're With

Her need for alcohol skyrocketed when their server arrived a few minutes later. It was her daughter, Paige. Her hair was now in a ponytail and she had a white cotton apron around her waist, but she was otherwise unchanged. While Rachel had no memories of Paige being a waitress at this tavern or any other, she now had knowledge of the state's labor laws regarding bars and taverns. The minimum age for patrons and bartenders in Nevada was 21, but only 18 for servers.

Paige gave no sign that she recognized her mom. That tiny male voice in her head informed her that informing anyone at the table of their relation would be a grave mistake.

Jackson broke away from lining up his shot when he saw the drinks being set down on their table. As he rushed over he yanked out his wallet, which was connected to his jeans by a silver chain.

"I got this," he yelled, holding up a couple of twenties.

"This is my treat." Rachel pulled her wallet out of her purse in such a hurry that a few other items came flying out as well. Paige smiled as she tried to stifle laughter. Despite her embarrassment, Rachel had to smile too. She loved seeing her daughter happy.

While she over tipped her daughter, Cody bent down to pick up her belongings off the floor.

Rachel wondered if Paige would be able to keep her tips at the end of the evening. She chided herself. Her daughter being able to keep a few extra dollars should be the least of her worries at the moment.

She felt like crawling under the table when she saw what Cody had picked up off the floor, the pack of cigarettes and condoms that Gabi had forced upon her. If anything was going to fall out of her purse it had to be those.

"I quit years ago," she said as she took them from him. "I keep a pack on me for comfort."

"You're talking about the cigarettes I hope," Cody said with a wink. "It'd be a crying shame otherwise, someone as beautiful as yourself."

"Figures," Lance said as he set his beer bottle down so hard that it started foaming out of the top.

"What'd I do wrong?" Rachel froze. Lance's outburst was clearly directed at her, but she didn't know what she'd done to make him so mad. Did he really think that she'd quit having sex? Even if she had, why would that make him mad?

"He's one of those guys who likes women who smoke. He thinks it makes them look sexy," Jackson said as he took aim at the eleven ball, the last striped ball on the table. "He gets annoyed when he finds out that another pretty woman quit smoking."

"Shut up," Lance glared at Jackson. His knuckles were bone white. He was holding his beer so tightly that Rachel was afraid the bottle was going to break in his hand. The thought terrified and thrilled her as she imagined being in bed with a man with that kind of strength.

"It's not true anyways," Lance said. "My last girlfriend was always nagging me about my drinking and smoking. I made myself a promise never to date a woman who didn't have the same vices I did."

Jackson sank the last striped ball and then quickly followed with the eight. Rachel hadn't seen anyone as excited as her opponent since her ex-husband's favorite baseball team ended an eighty year losing streak. Even then, her husband didn't go nearly as overboard as Jackson did. You'd think he just won the Powerball lottery.

He probably would have kept right on celebrating if Terrance hadn't made an appearance, much to Rachel's disappointment. Why couldn't Lance win or Cody? God only knew what Jackson wanted in a woman.

Jackson didn't talk as long as Lance, but his eyes didn't move from Rachel. They were glued to her chest. When Terrance disappeared she felt a tightening sensation right where Jackson had been gazing. At first she panicked, thinking that maybe she was having a heart attack, but she wasn't feeling any pain. The sensation was kind of pleasurable. It was making her nipples tingle and then harden. It wasn't just in her chest, her posterior was starting to feel good too. It grew in intensity, her tits and ass feeling so amazing that she had to fight back a moan. Then they started to expand. First her boobs grew from the size of pool balls to softballs. Her ass looked like she'd cut a honeydew melon in half and then stuffed it in the backside of her jeans.

It took her almost a full minute to notice that her clothes had changed again. Somewhere along the way her pants became a skirt and her boots had changed to three-inch pumps. Her nails were painted red just like her lips. She didn't need a mirror to know what shade, she now remembered putting it on and then touching it up several times during the evening.

Neither of her opponents seemed to notice that anything was different about her. Lance was setting the balls on the table for another game. Jackson was telling one of the guys at another table all about his game of pool. She caught Cody stealing the occasional glance at her chest and she thought that one time she saw a flicker of recognition in his expression. It was so brief that she wasn't sure if she'd just imagined it. He probably wouldn't be the only guy checking out her chest that night. She was starting to remember lots of guys doing it through the years. They were one of her better assets.

Jackson was much more attractive to her now. She almost regretted not giving him her number earlier.

No one even asked her if she wanted to play another game this time. Once Lance had finished arranging the balls in the wooden triangle, Cody rose and then removed another hundred-dollar bill from his wallet as he crossed the room. He laid the bill in the same spot that he'd laid the two before that. Without saying a word he commenced playing.

Cody slammed the white ball into the triangle-shaped cluster of balls with such force that it sounded like an explosion. Rachel squealed and accidentally spit out some of her beer, causing Jackson and Lance to laugh. While she didn't usually like being laughed at, it was nice seeing smiles on their faces.

As Cody worked his magic, sinking one striped ball after another, Rachel walked casually over to Jackson's table.

"That was really amazing the way you sank all those balls without missing last game," Rachel said, cringing inside as she said the words, knowing that she probably sounded desperate.

"Thanks." Jackson glanced her way before turning his attention back to the pool table.

"Here." She offered him a folded piece of paper.

He stared at her for several seconds. "What's that?"

"My phone number. I was being silly before."

"That's one word for it." He glanced at the paper for a moment. "What makes you think I still want it?"

Rachel had no reply. Words had left her. Why had she been so stupid before. He'd been nice to her, trying to buy her a drink, trying to get to know her and she turned him down twice.

Her hand fell to her side. "I'm sorry."

"Drop it on the table. I might decide I want it after all. We'll just have to see, won't we."

She set the piece of paper in front of him and then said, "I'm going to order myself a drink. Would you like one too?"

"When I want a drink I'll buy my own. I'm not about to have a woman paying for me."

"Sorry." Rachel slumped back to her table, feeling very foolish. Why did she think a man like Jackson would be forgiving like Lance? Jackson was a true alpha male. He demanded respect. When she didn't give it to him, of course he'd be unforgiving. She needed to know her place. It would be hard with her upbringing though. Her mom had raised her as an independent woman.

Cody once again shot the eight, but did not sink it. It came to a stop directly in front of the left side pocket. He gave a nod to Lance and then took his seat.

"Be prepared to play," He said to Rachel. "I don't see Lance sinking more than three or four with that layout."

"I still don't know how to play. What should I do?"

He held up a hand. "I'm not allowed to give you any advice, sorry."

As much as she wished that he would give her help of some kind, she respected his integrity. She just wished that her daughter's future wasn't at stake.

When his partner readied his shot, Jackson said. "I sank eight balls in a row on a crowded table, you better be able to sink six with nothing in your way."

Lance's shoulders slumped slightly as his gaze fell to the ground. He stayed that way for a few seconds. He took a couple of deep breaths and then sank the solid yellow ball. During his turn Rachel studied how he held the stick and the way he took aim at the white ball before hitting it into the other balls. If he missed one, all she needed to do was sink one lousy ball. If she didn't it was one game closer to her daughter becoming an omnipotent being's plaything. It would also mean that she'd become more of Jackson's kind of woman. Would he give her even bigger breasts, make her even more submissive? She didn't want to find out.

Lance sank four more balls before he finally missed one. Jackson grew quite agitated when the white ball finally stopped rolling and it was less than a foot away from the black ball sitting in front of the hole on the left side of the table.

"Don't even say it," Lance said as he walked past Jackson, only pausing long enough to snatch his beer off the table.

Rachel picked up her stick wishing she knew what she was doing. The last time she tried to use the stick to hit the white ball it hadn't gone very well. She'd barely made the ball move. It had gone sideways and only a couple of inches. She pointed the stick at the white ball so the tip was only an inch away and then leaned over the table like she'd seen Cody do on his turn. Her boobs pressed against the table which hadn't happened in the first game since her breasts had been so much smaller at that time. She pushed the stick forward. It struck the white ball and made it roll into the other ball, but the black ball did not go into the hole. It hit the green bumper and stopped.

"Yes!" Jackson whooped. "I didn't think even you could miss that one."

The insult stung a little, but she deserved it. She wasn't very good at the game and he was just pointing out the obvious, which the other guys lacked the courage to do. She almost said that she was sorry, but that would have been really dumb since she was playing for the other team.

She did tell Cody that she was sorry when she sat down at their table.

"Don't worry about it." He said, his smile not dimming in the slightest.

Jackson polished off the remaining balls and then the black one. Jackson didn't do a celebratory dance this time and Terrance didn't make an appearance. Her clothes were the first to change, followed by her tits. Her skirt and blouse fused together, becoming a rather demure dress that looked more appropriate for a Sunday morning than a Saturday night. When her breasts grew this time it didn't happen slowly. One moment she was a large C cup and the next moment she was sporting a pair of double Ds. She knew instantly that surgery accounted for her new size. It made her wonder why Jackson would want her to have huge, fake tits, but then hide them behind a demure cotton dress.

Her hair changed color. She remembered dyeing it in the sink a few weeks back and then sleeping with it in a twist braid the night before to make it nice and wavy for her night out with her sister. She wanted to look her best in case she might meet a dominant man like Jackson. Her wardrobe back at home had undergone another change. It was all dresses and skirts. She had a couple pairs of jeans, but she hadn't worn them in so long that she wasn't even sure if they still fit. This made her kind of sad. She'd always looked forward to wearing jeans on casual Fridays in her former life.

She wasn't a runner in this reality. Her giant breasts made that more than a little annoying, even with a top of the line sports bra. She got her cardio on the stair machine, which helped give her an amazing backside, that and hours of lunges and squats.

She remembered how fearful she was that Jackson would win the third game, but now she was so happy, for herself at least. She was still worried about her daughter and what Terrance was going to do to her, but at least now she'd have Jackson to tell her not to worry about it and if he said it was going to be okay, well then she would believe him. If he would talk to her again, that is. She was so afraid that she'd blown it with him by being so rude as to refuse to give him her phone number or let him buy her a drink. How stupid could she be?

Lance and Cody were still on her radar, but Jackson was the focus of her attention. They both lacked Jackson's straightforward, in your face, aggressive assertiveness. Just the thought of Jackson telling her what to do was turning her on, how to dress, act, walk, talk, but especially how to please him, how satisfy all of his needs, however slight or transient. That was what she wanted more than anything at the moment.

She glanced over to where Bill and Gabi had been sitting, but they weren't there anymore. She found them with the Lords of Chaos. Gabi was dirty dancing for her boyfriend, Bull. That was the nickname that the motorcycle gang had given him. He wasn't an official member, but ran with them on occasion. Quite a few of the gang members had their eyes on her sister; she was a professional after all and knew how to keep a bunch of horny men entertained. Despite being the sole focus of half the bikers, she only had eyes for her man.

"Someone you know?" Cody asked.

"My sister." Rachel was plagued with guilt. Every pool game she played caused another change in her sister and her boyfriend, but she couldn't quit now. If she didn't continue playing then it would be her daughter who'd be changing. At least Gabi appeared to be happy.

"She part of the Lords of Chaos?" Cody seemed intrigued by the idea.

"No, neither is her boyfriend. He's friends with some of the members. Served time with them, or something like that. It's not something he likes to talk about."

"Don't take this wrong, but you sister dance...professionally?"

"She's a dancer in the show Fantasy at the Luxor." Her current gig was an adult only show and involved taking her top off. At least she was still a dancer. "Her mom was a showgirl in Vegas and got her into lessons as soon as she could walk."

"I've seen that show. It's pretty good." Cody took a sip of his beer. "You know, if your sister is okay with getting naked and dancing in front of a crowd she could make a lot of money at the right kind of club. I know the guy who owns Phantasia, the strip club off highway 17. I could get her an audition. She'd be really popular there."

"Don't be gross. That's my sister you're gawking at," Rachel said.

"Your parents must be good-looking people to have two daughters of such fine beauty," Cody said.

"I'm practically old enough to be your mom," Rachel said.

"Not to be crude, but you give a whole new meaning to the term MILF. It doesn't quite do you justice."

"Well, aren't you the charmer. I'll be sure to keep my daughter far away from you."

"If she's even half as beautiful as her mother, I'm sure that she has all the men she can handle," Cody said.

It was Lance who went first in their fourth game. He didn't hit the white ball with nearly as much power as either Cody or Jackson and none of the balls fell into any of the holes. That meant that it was up to Rachel. She took solace in the knowledge that unless she were to put all the striped or solid colored balls into the various holes on the table it didn't matter if she made any at all. If there was even one of their balls remaining on the table when it came to Cody's turn, he wouldn't be allowed to sink the black ball. If she sank none or six it was all the same. If Jackson didn't put in all of his teams balls then Cody would put in all of theirs except the eight. Then, if they were lucky and Lance didn't win the game at that point they'd be in the same position as last game.

So, with that worked out in her mind, Rachel decided that the best thing to do was to practice hitting the white ball with the stick. She pretended that the orange ball was the eight ball from the last game. Her goal was to hit the white ball so that it struck the orange ball and nothing more. That would be victory enough. She succeeded in more ways than one. The white ball did touch the other ball, but only barely. The orange ball hardly even moved.

"What the fucking hell am I supposed to do with that pile of shit?" Jackson said as he stomped around the table, holding the stick like someone might hold a sword.

"Nice shot, partner." Cody held out a fist toward her.

Rachel bumped fists with him, only because she didn't want to be rude. At the moment all she wanted to do was crawl under the table and hide from Jackson's rage. Why hadn't she hit the white ball harder? She felt so inept. No wonder Jackson was mad at her.

Jackson spent several minutes walking from one side of the table and then back to the other, cursing the whole time.

"He has a decent shot at the eleven, but the solids are in a better position overall," Cody whispered to her, as if sensing her confusion. "He's got to know that with his team's skill and that they're likely to get three turns between the two of them, the stripes are his better play, but he wants to be the hero and run the table again. Personally I hope he goes for it."

After another couple of minutes of pacing, Jackson took aim at the seven. He sank it, but scratched in the process. He turned the air blue as he took his seat, glaring at Rachel the entire time. The longer he gave her the evil eye, the surer she was that she'd totally blown it with him. He hated her now and it was all her fault.

Just as Cody stood to take his turn, Rachel's phone alerted her that she had a message. She hoped that it was Paige saying that she was okay. She'd been looking around for her ever since she'd served them drinks in between the first and second games, but she hadn't caught a glimpse of her daughter. She hoped that they had her working in the back room, far away from all the drunk patrons and rowdy bikers.

The text was from an unknown number. It said, "Meet me out back." She looked up and saw Jackson's eyes drilling into hers. He rose and then ambled toward the back of the bar. Rachel waited until he was twenty feet away and then did the same. She lost sight of him when he went through a door and her heart fell. It soared when she spotted him seconds later outside, standing next to a pair of dumpsters.

"You really fucked me over with that shot of yours. The way I see it you owe me." Jackson grabbed the bulge between his legs. "I got a way you can make it up to me."

As she hurried to his side she wondered if that kind of line worked for any woman who wasn't under magical influence or hadn't been paid up front. It didn't matter since she was of the former. All she wanted was to make up for her earlier blunders.

"Tell me what you want, baby" She ran a hand over his chest.

"Get on your knees and suck it. Make it quick."

She did as instructed. The gravel bit into her knees and was probably making a mess of her dress, but it was such a minor concern. She pulled down his zipper and whipped out his semi erect penis. She'd never been that much into giving head before and under normal circumstances next to a smelly dumpster in a public setting was the last place she'd perform oral on a man. These weren't normal times and the need to please Jackson was quite overpowering.

As she brought her face closer to his manhood, she took a big whiff, hoping that his muskiness was strong enough to overpower the aroma of rotting foodstuff coming from the dumpster. As soon as her lips brushed up against the head of his cock she forgot all about the setting they were in and gave all of her attention to the cock sliding into her mouth. It felt so good against her tongue and even better against the back of her throat. A hunger grew quickly within her and she was going to need him to orgasm to satisfy that need. She'd only let her ex-husband cum in her mouth once during their marriage. If she'd felt like she did now, she'd have had him shooting his load down her throat every day of the week. She slid Jackson's cock in and out of her mouth quickly, eager for her juicy treat. More than once she buried her nose in his pubic hair, making her wonder what had happened to her gag reflex.