A Friendly Game Of Pool free porn video

A Friendly Game Of Pool This story is inspired by the story Friendship Is Valuable by Zedd and others that use a first-person universe-change style such as Five Days (?). He's a tremendous author, and I dig his (her?) style of transformations. I'm sure you can see where my kinks lie, so this kind of story fits perfectly. I'm not spending so much time on the plot anymore, because my most popular stories are the quickies. This one is somewhat a preview of the idea that I had for my story The Student. A person becomes omnipotent and must learn to control his or her ego and power. However, I don't think this person will learn too much. While I REALLY like the kind words (I hear you, Andrew5000), what I really need is constructive criticism. Please be brutally honest on how I can improve. Thank you. 000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 Man, I hate being stood up. Either the red glow from the neon beer advertisement is starting to affect my vision or it is possible to see red when you are angry. I've been sitting at this smoky bar for the last hours waiting for my friend to show up. The idea was that we were going to get sloshed here and visit a titty bar closer to town. If one of use gets lucky with a girl, then we'd consider it a good night. He usually chooses this bar to start our evening, because it is so close to his place. Personally, I'm not too thrilled to be here. Dirty places like this can be found all over the countryside in shacks and run-down bingo halls. Not to sound too conceited, but my khakis and button-up shirt doesn't really fit in a dive like this. It's too clean. Hell, this guy beside me is wearing chaps and a leather jacket. God, I hope he's wearing pants under those things! A small gathering of beer bottle labels mat the natural wood patterns under my elbows, and I don't drink very quickly. Peeling them off one by one, in an effort to occupy my time and attention I try to keep a low profile to avoid the rough riders, the sports-winners, and the angry youth that usually inhabit places like this. I'm not an intimidating guy, so I'm trying to avoid any unpleasantness that may arise from some rebel's perceived slight. Shit, I hate being in places like this, and to top it off my underwear is cinching up around my balls. Scanning the smoky room for any girly action, I spy a couple of pool tables in an adjacent room. I guess I could get a head start being that my accomplice is over two hours late. It looks like one just opened up over in the corner. By now, I've lost any hope that my friend will show up, so at least I can amuse myself for a little before I start sending out the feelers. It's been a while since I've played, but I'm sure it won't be too hard to remember the techniques. Picking up my unlabeled beer, I weave through the crowd to find my little niche away from the action. Some of the locals give me an ugly look as I slip by. Again, I don't really look like I belong here. One circle of tough, bearded guys stinks so badly that I take a detour to move farther around them. I hope they didn't see me do that. "Hey there, buddy! I got this table," a guy warns me as I approach it. Damn it, I thought. Could I please have just one reprieve from this hellhole? He doesn't seem that angry, though. In fact, he's smiling. "Did you want this table, guy?" he inquires. "Sorry, man," I respond with my empty hand out showing no offense, "I didn't know. You go ahead and take it." He doesn't seem to belong here, either. "I'll tell you what," he pronounces, "I'll play ya. Unless you have someone else coming?" The man sets his beer down on the edge of the table and picks up one of the pool sticks from the green felt. This guy is too jovial for a place like this. I look around expecting to be surrounded by thugs or pickpocketed now that I've been marked. My radar is up. His brightly- colored suit and spikey blond hair screams flamboyance, yet no one in the bar seems to notice him. You'd think a guy in this clown get-up wouldn't last five seconds here, but no one's the wiser. "Okay," I reply questioningly. Playing with a person is always better than playing by yourself. "Good, I'll break," he excitedly announces and glides over to the side to deposit the coins. "Don't worry about the change, guy. I'll get this. I'll provide the change tonight if you provide the fun." His voice almost sounds like a used car salesman or some game show host. Each word is completely enunciated and pronounced with excitement. I wouldn't be surprised if he slaps me on the back and buys everyone a round of drinks before the game ends. "Sure thing. Say, I didn't get your name." If we're going to play a game, I should be able to call him by a name instead of guy or dude, or something. I hold out my hand for a handshake, but he doesn't take it. That's okay, I guess. He's probably on some high and anything may set him off, so I retract my hand back to my beer. Again, I try to hide my adjustment of my underwear. Damn bunched up underwear feels like sandpaper. "Mr. Plesier. Yes, that's mister to you," he exclaims in a haughty way. Okay, so he expects me to call him Mister. Whatever, as long as he's paying for the game I'll oblige. Just don't expect me to call his name often. I was going to give him my name, but he interrupts by breaking the set balls on the table with a loud crack. A few of balls go in. "Oh, goody! I'll take solids." Two of the balls that went in were stripes, but he took the one solid ball that went in. I guess he wants a challenge. "Hey guy, how does it feel to know that I took your two balls? I bet you'd love to play with these little, polished orbs. Oops! I've already put them in the hole." So, he's going to be the kind of guy that inserts pervy things into the game. At least it makes it much more interesting. I don't say anything to respond. He took my balls. He took my balls. Why does that not sound right? The balls are spread out on the green felt evenly over the table. Looking around, I don't really see much of an advantage that my two balls give me. He keeps talking as he walks around the table looking for his next shot. I really haven't paid too much attention to what he's saying. The man really likes to talk. Hm, my underwear is feeling much more comfortable now. I guess it worked itself out. Mr. Plesier stops and leans down to aim up a shot still talking. "...and that is when I found out you can milk a cat. Isn't that something? Hey buddy. Did you know that our nipples are not much different than the girls'? I bet if you played with them enough, you could probably start to grow boobs like one. Ha! Wouldn't that be fun? Be honest, how big do you want to be? A? B? Nope, I bet you are a D guy. Yes?" "What are you rambling on about, guy?" I ask in an effort to stop his non-stop monologue. "You're a milk guy, right? You're at a swinging bar and drinking milk instead of a beer or the hard stuff. With the way you've been nursing them, I suggest that you should probably get bigger cups." What the hell is he going on about?! I raise my hand up and take another drink of the milk I'm holding in a cup. Looking incredulously at the cup in my hand, I ask myself why I wasn't holding the beer instead. Oh crap! The table next to me is completely covered with cups and mugs of different sizes. They all have the tale-tell sign of having milk in them recently. "At the rate you've been going, you'll probably be giving more than drinking before the night is through," he snorts. I didn't answer. His train of thought was mind-numbing, and I felt mine starting to crack with his. I did enjoy playing with boobs, though. I've always enjoyed my girlfriends' breasts. Sometimes they would tease me calling me an octopus. I wonder what it would feel like having big breasts. Your nipples are so far away from your chest and always in motion. Glancing around to see if anyone was looking, I snuck a quick feel of my nipples. It didn't do much, but I can see why girls would like it. I quickly did it again. Man, this guy is really getting to me. He's got me feeling myself up in a bar. The balls crack as they knock each other around the table. This is his third go. I hope he gives me a chance to play. I'm starting to get bored. At least I can play with my nipples while he plays. A bar stool opens up, so I pull it over to the table and sit. Wow, it's so comfortable. Whatever bar stools they have here, I need some at home. I'm straddling it like you would a horse, and it almost feels pleasurable. A bubble of pressure and a moist feeling indicates that I'm getting way too much from this. "...with all of these tough guys around here. Look around. They act all tough, huh? You wanna know a secret? I bet half of the guys in here tonight are really gay. Yea. They act tough, but they just want someone to tell them that it's okay to like other guys. That's why they are here. Look at all the macho guys strutting around showing off. You don't see a lot of girls in here, do you? No sir. They are trying to get the other guys interested in them." He looks at me and grins. "I bet that's why you're here, too. I bet if any one of these guys were to drop his pants, you would kneel down and take him in your mouth. You're one of those guys, huh?" His insanity is amusing. Now he tells me that all of these tough guys are gay and that there aren't any girls around. "That's a load of bull..." I freeze mid-sentence. Thumping disco music blasts out of the large, mounted speakers overhead and bright laser lights reflect off of the cloud of fog that envelops a dance stage in the middle of the bar. Throngs of scantily-clad, skinny guys sashay to and from the stage. One of them tousles my hair to remove what looks like glitter onto the cement floor. "Hey cutie, thank you for meeting me here. I know going out is not your thing, but this is off the chain!" He hugs me and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Too bad, you don't like to dance, because I would rock your world." I'm only partially listening to him. My nipples are begging for me to touch them, and it's hard to concentrate when there are two points of intense tingling on your chest. Did he just say that he knew me? "Hey, look up. It looks like you're in the smoking section," my billiards friend interrupts. "You can smoke all you want if you just let yourself be willing to inhale." I guess he knew I was gay. "Did you really know what kind of bar you came to? You did know that this was a gay bar, right?" No! That's not right. None of this is. Was it? I'm so confused. Of course it was a gay bar. That's why I was going to meet with my boyfriend. To be honest though, I've been looking around lately. Looking around the room at all of the cute guys I ask myself if I've always been this way. It feels weird. I know that I like guys, but it seems like such a new feeling. Mr. Plesier just keeps talking as he clears the table. The way he bends over when he reaches for a shot give me little butterflies from my crotch to my nipples. My hands sneak a quick rub on my chest. They don't have to reach that far, because my thick nipples are punching little nubs into my shirt. Mm, it feels good to touch them. Apparently, our table is a popular one. One by one, random guys seem to be stopping to watch him play. I glare at each one. This is my cutie, boys. Lay off. My boyfriend slides up behind me and begins to rub my nipples. Oh, crap! I hope he didn't see me. Electric waves radiate from my chest outward giving me a head rush. Oh my god! Those fake boobs that I got last year or so are starting to work wonders for my libido. Forget the game, I just want to let this him play with my boobs. Reaching down, I feel that his pants are open. Surprised, I inhale and look at his smooth face and guide him over by the wall to avoid getting in trouble. His cock is hanging down begging for me to play with it. Why shouldn't I? He's giving me such an experience with my boobs, that it would be rude not to return the favor. Making sure that I'm still cognizant of the game, my left hand reaches down and back to find him while I face the pool table. I don't want Mr. Plesier to have the satisfaction of seeing me diddle some random guy. Besides, he's having way too much fun conversing with himself. Mm, why is my crotch so wet? Surely I didn't cum yet. But, oh! am I so close. He's not hard, yet. If I bend my hand backwards a little I can hold the tip in my palm. Up and down my hand works his cock to wake it up. Inch by inch it gains mass and strength growing and pushing my palm out until have to use my entire hand to hold it. He's moaning in my left ear, "I love your tits. Keep going. You're making me so hard." His voice is doing a number on my nipples. Hands are grabbing and massaging my breasts around like bread dough. Looking down, I can see my cleavage framed by my low-cut tanktop. My boobs aren't big, but they are enough to make a nice sized cleft. My left hand is rubbing over thick veins and a large mushroom head. His soft skin cover hardened steel underneath. The cock in my hand pulses and jerks with my administrations. My work is soon aided by a new, slippery lube. By now, I'm pulling his cock with vigor with my wet hands. Clear precum helps me bring my new friend to climax. I look over to Mr. Plesier, and he's still talking and playing not paying any attention to my sexual exploits. The cock is starting to jerk more than before and my new friend is panting pretty heavily. It's time, I think, and kneel down in front of him. This magnificent cock is so beautiful. Large, so large. It's hard to wrap my hand all the way around it. Blue veins and iron hard muscle pulse with my ministrations. My hands bring the crimson, rounded tip to my mouth as I caress it with my lips. A string of clear precum hangs connecting his cock and me as I move it around. Sensing that he won't last long, I bring my mouth around the head and push myself as far down his cock as I can. The corners of my mouth stretch a bit, but the discomfort comes from the hard poking my throat is taking. Pulling back, I push forward again. A mixture of flesh, sweat, and bitterness invades my taste buds. While it's not the best flavor in my world, I get off knowing that he's about to cum because of what I'm doing. I'm the reason he's experiencing these feelings, and I try my best to give my man the blowjob of his life. A smile glides across my stretched and filled mouth. I need more! One hand leaves his cock and returns to my boobs. There's more to hold on to now, so I grab a handful and pinch the tips. My back and forth motions on Mr. Random's cock makes my boobs jiggle which stimulates my nipples causing me to moan. In an effort to get to my breasts, I pull myself off of the cock and pull my blouse over my head. Damn, I need to get to my nipples! The fog-filled air cools my hot, sweaty breasts as they jiggle back and forth, and my mouth immediately returns to the turgid, bumpy pole in front of my face. My slurping and his moaning are all that I can hear at the moment as my mouth swallows as much of his cock as possible and my hands caress my boobs. He's grunting! Oh, yes. Pulses of convulsions shake force his pole as deep into my mouth as I can allow. Suddenly, an explosion of saltiness erupts from his vibrating head. Hack, cough! It's too much. I know I need to let him finish in my mouth, but it's just too much. Looking down I think of how wonderful his cum would feel on my nipples! Jerking my head back, I aim the still erupting hose towards my chest with a cough. Warm, thick ropes of cum drizzle across my modest breasts. Jerking and convulsing, the man empties himself onto my chest with a contented sigh. My right hand reaches up to coax the remaining cum from his dick and onto my tongue. I like a little cum like most other guys. I just can't handle a torrent into the back of my throat. He's so happy right now. I look up into his eyes, and see a man who's just been emptied of all of his weekly frustrations. With a grunt, I pull myself back up and wipe my mouth with a napkin from the table. My lover hugs me, being careful not to get any of his jizz on his shirt, and thanks me for my services. Wow, he's really cute as he walks away. I shake my head. No! None of this feels right. All of this is like a bad dream. There's no way I'm standing topless with my titties bouncing around in a gay bar. Why in the hell would I be in a gay bar?!? "...you know cumsluts like you are all the same. You would do anything just to get another fix of cum, huh? Here you are with some stranger's cum all over tits, and you are just as happy as you can be. Think about it. You're not much different than this pool table. You hang out in strip clubs letting men with hard sticks sink their balls into you." Strip club?! I thought this was a gay bar. No, wait a second. It was a dive bar, wasn't it? Yea, and I brought my boyfriend in to...no...that's not it. The disco music was replaced with a rock song with strong guitar riffs and a screaming male vocalist praising a girl's boobs. Everything seems to be changing. Oh, man. This is too much. I lean up against the brass pole and swing around trying to put things in the right order. My stage is close to the pool tables, so I usually try to distract the players by opening my legs or rubbing my big boobs to break their concentration. Tee hee. It's my favorite pole in the club. Plus, I like to play with the cue sticks when the management isn't watching (giggle). I get so many big tips that way. I really need to focus on my routine, though. Mr. Boss-man warned me that my dancing hasn't been all that great lately, and I really need this job. Cheap lasers dance across the velour-covered walls lighting up a smoke- filled club filled with velvet-covered sofas, gyrating nude girls, and horny men betting varying sums of money in their effort to take one of us home. Younger, less experienced but more clothed girls scurry back and forth with treys of beer, cigars, and brightly colored drinks in fancy glasses. I was told that this was one of the more upscale clubs in the area and was flattered that the club owner asked me to work for him personally. Slowly, I lower my pants while bending at the waist. Looking between my legs some poor guy is staring at my ass with is mouth open, so I bounce it to beacon him over. His eyes are glued to me, and he shambles over to my stage. Still bent over and looking through the v-shaped space between my legs, I wink at him with a smile. I've always had a soft spot for nerdy, little geeks like him. They have such a hard time enjoying social interactions, so see it as a public service to be extra kind to people like him. I giggle to myself, plus they are usually really great tippers. I spin around and kneel to give him a closer look at my magnificent tits. His eyes seem to bulge out when I use my elbows to squeeze them together. "Can I touch them?" he asks innocently. I'm such a sucker for guys like this. "Honey, for the right amount of money, you can touch me anywhere," I breathe into his ear. Thinking that I might be able to earn a little more I suggest the private room to milk some more money from him, "I think you're really cute (giggle). If you want, we can go into the private suites." "Wow, this can't be real. A beautiful girl like you want to be with a guy like me?" he gushes. Like a bolt of lightning it hits me. That's it! It's not real. I turn to Mr. Plesier, who is still playing his game of pool. He's the reason all of this is happening. I'm not a stripper at a club, and I'm not gay. That bastard has been playing with me. "You son of a bitch." I furiously scream with fire shooting from my eyes. Using the most hateful, condescending, harmful words I can imagine I attempt to cut him down. I'm flailing my arms and dropping these verbal bombs at him. Halfway through my tirade I see that while some of the crowd has changed their conversations and are suddenly speaking to each other in a language I don't understand. I stop, too, to catch my breath. Sigh. Why did I have to work in this gringo bar? No one speaks Spanish. Without a pause, Mr. Plesier makes a snappy quip in English and a gathered group begins to laugh hysterically. At this point, I'm more upset that I didn't learn English when I had the chance than I am that this snappily-dressed guy is making fun of me. These white guys think they can come into my club not respect us working girls. In an effort to collect myself, I pause for a moment and looked down across my dark mocha nipples exposed to the world. "Face it, seniorita. You are not as good as you thought at pool," he chuckles in Spanish. My mind is reeling. How long have I spoken Spanish? My memories are all in English, yet, I don't understand any of them. No...No...he's still playing with me. We were playing a game of strip pool, and I lost. Was that it? No, I'm a stripper...No. NO! "...you didn't have a chance to play pool with me much, did ya? How about we team up this game, you and me? I kinda like you, and I think we could have some fun. I mean, a pretty girl like you and a handsome guy like me could bring in a lot of money if we tried. Goodness, you don't look a day over eighteen, and those tits of yours are quite something. There's no way anyone would think that you are good a pool. Okay, let's be serious. I'm the one who will carry us. After all, a slutty girl like you is only interested in teasing the boys. Be careful, though. Didn't you say earlier that you haven't taken your pill in a while. I don't have any condoms, so you'd best be careful unless you want to get knocked up. You don't want to go back to Belize with a baby, do you? Anyway, you can distract the guys and I'll win the game. Deal?" His Spanish voice was oozed with confidence. I would believe anything he says. Sounds like a plan. Mr. Plesier is a smart guy. He's little old for my tastes, but he's still cute. I'm not sure why he wanted to come to this my sex club. I mean, does he think that I'm just gonna give it away for free? No! Daddy won't let me give it away for free. He'll beat me again if I give another free blowjob. I should be used to it by now, though. Every John that comes in here is looking for something for free. Heck, that's the game, right? They try to get as much as they can, and I try to get as much as I can, too. Most of the time, we just line up to introduce ourselves, get picked (or not), and escort him to our room for an hour or so of intense fucking. Tonight, Daddy decided on having this pool table brought in, so all of the guys are hanging out before getting off. Mr. Plesier is right. I thought that I could win a game or two of strip pool. Back in my hometown, we would play at la taverna. My boyfriends were nowhere near this good, though. Now the girls are out in the open for everyone to see. My reflection in the golden, ornate, wall-sized mirror shows a girl who could get a blind man hard. Soft, golden skin and dark, chocolate nipples beg to be caressed. My hips flare out showing my money makers, a hard tight culo and pointed, irresistible pechos. At the moment, all I'm wearing is my lace bikini bottoms, so I'm flaunting both of them off to the men in the salon. No, I am wearing something else, my lucky golden anklet on my bare feet. I get all of the big paying jodont?ns when I wear it. I look up to Mr. Plesier and see that he's found two guys to play pool with. Honestly, I was hoping Senior Plesier would take me back to my room, but maybe I can bring some back for some more money. These two guys don't know what they are in for. "...so my young friend and I will beat you two," Mr. Plesier states confidently. Hey, wait a minute. I can understand that! What the hell? "What makes you so sure," the taller guy retorts. He's really big and hunky. His shoulders are much bigger than my arms stretched out. Geez this guy is a hottie. "How about a wager," asks my partner. "Okay. What do you want?" "If my little girl and I win, you will fuck your friend on this table after the game," he replies. Oh my god! Is he serious? There's no way that they would take him up on that offer, and Daddy would never let them do that if they agreed. "Okay, what about if we win?" Still, when did I learn English? "Then I will give you the ability to control your own universe. Imagine, unlimited power." What in the world was he talking about? "Yea, I saw what you did to your little girl here. If you will give us the ability to do that, then you're on!" I'm confused. What was he talking about? What did he do to me? I've always been this way, right? I grimace in frustration. It's too much to think about. I'll just let my man deal with it. I'm just gonna take my time and make these two as hard as a rock. As a courtesy, they started by breaking the group. The loud clack of balls smacking balls around rattles my brain. Tee hee. Balls hitting balls. That's hilarious! They knock a couple of balls in and call stripes. "Just be your sexy self. Your job is to make them forget they are playing this game. Use your body like it's supposed to, you slutty girl." Oh, my god. His sexy voice echoes inside of my chest and wets me immediately. They take turns hitting the little white ball and knocking it into other balls. Tee hee, balls! Suddenly, they are all looking at me. Oh, it must be my turn, so I stride over to the table. "Okay, hit this ball," pointing towards the white ball," into this ball. Got it?" This doesn't seem so hard. I know I've played this before. It just seems so far away. I nod my head and smile to show Mr. Cutie that I know what to do. Just hit this ball here and knock it there... I lean over the table and watch as both of them hold their breath. Both sets of eyes are locked onto the space between me and the green felt. Looking down, I see why. My unrestrained boobs are hanging down and wobbling back and forth. That's so cute how entranced they are. I look up and lean to the right. On cue, their eyes roll to the right. I lean to the left and they follow. Just for fun, I wave them back and forth underneath me, and their eyes don't miss a beat. Tee hee! You are getting sleepy, I think imaging my boobs hypnotizing them. "The ball, silly. Hit the ball." Oh yea. Leaning down I pull the stick back and hit the white ball. It flounders towards the back end of the table without doing much damage to the others. Sorry, Senior Plesier if I made the game harder for you. The shorter guy walks up the table and examines it. I wink at him, and he blushes. Gently, I reach up and tease my dark nipple making it stand. His eyes dart back and forth from the table to my boobs. I've done this so many times back home where I get some hombre to focus on me while mi amiga swipes his wallet. For extra measure, I lick my lips and wink. "Hey, your girl over there is trying to cheat. Tell her to back off," the tall one's low, thumping voice commands. A giggle escapes my lips, and I cover them. How could a little thing like me cause so much trouble? Tee hee. "She's just using her gifts to help us along. Surely, you don't mind getting an eye full once in a while?" He didn't like the answer, but relented his complaint. He's very big and scary. Mr. Plesier is so brave to stand up to him like that. They continue to take turns when one of them misses a shot until it's my turn again. There's not very many balls left on the table, so I don't have much to choose from. Just make sure to hit the stripey balls I tell myself. As I bend over the table, the big one comes up behind me and places his hands on my hips forcing me back into his crotch. I look up at him in surprise, and he's smiling at my teammate. "See, I can do the same thing," he spits out. That's very distracting. I'm trying to hit the stripey ball, and he's gyrating his hips into my butt. I guess it's working a little. My pussy sparks to life, and I moan. Oh, god am I getting horny? It's still hard to keep the stick level when he's dry humping me like this. I hit the ball and, again, it goes nowhere. It's his turn again, and two can play that game. When he finishes deciding on which ball to hit, he stops to bend over. That's when I spring to action. I walk up to his tight butt and reach around to the front of his pants. Underneath is a warm, thick mountain of flesh. He moans and kicks me away. I'm not hurt physically, but my ego is a little bruised. He misses his shot. The other two do their thing, but I'm not interested. My attention is focused on breaking that hunk on the other team. Damn, he's a hot, mountain of a man. My crotch is getting steamier and hotter. Without thinking, I begin to reach up to tweak my nipples. Mm, that feels so good. I find a close barstool and straddle it like I would some hombre. Mimicking the moves that I use in bed, I start to get myself even more hot while trying to distract them. "Little miss sexpot. Hello?! It's your turn," my teammate wakes me out of my steamy daydream. I look over to the hunky guy staring at me and what used to be another hunk beside him. That's funny. He looks smaller now - less attractive. In the face I can tell that he's the same guy as before, but his body looks more feminine than before. On unsteady legs I return to the table. At this point, I'm not really sure where I could hit the ball. My mind is only on getting some action. There's only a couple striped balls left, and they are behind the other balls. To get a better vantage, I bend over the table to see how to bounce the ball. At that point a set of hands pulls my underwear down to my ankles. "Let's see if you can hit the ball like this," he teases cocksure and arrogant. My universe consists of only the space between my legs, so I'm not really able to see focus on my game plan. Jingle, jingle, jingle. The sound of his pants opening up sets my pussy ablaze. Oh, my. He's gonna do it. Oh my, what am I gonna do? I haven't taken my pill in, like, forever. My hands are spaced outward on the table and are trying to keep the stick straight. Large, calloused hands grip both sides of my ass and begin to massage in circles. Mm, my body reflexively begins to rock back and forth, and I close my eyes to savor the feeling to being dominated. A large, cushioned intruder pushes up to the lips between my legs and moves back and forth. I moan letting him know that he has control over me at this point. One of the hands leaves my ass and guides the cock up and to my pussy. My lips separate as he nears the center of my universe. Returning to my ass, the two hands gently pull back forcing the cock to press into me. At first it just presses harder creating a great amount of pressure. He's so big. Then, as if shot from a cannon, it pops into me with a force that causes me to grunt loudly. The cock forces my tight pussy to stretch around it giving me a sense of intense pressure throughout my lower body. It doesn't give, either. The source of the pressure surges forward and deeper into me. It's so deep inside of me. Both hands are still holding the pool stick, but are focused on keeping my upright by using it as leverage against the body forcing itself into me from behind. Once I can feel the base and a ticking of his hair he draws back pulling my insides with him. The pressure decreases, but doesn't really leave. In fact, another kind of pressure starts to grow from deep within. A forward thrust causes me to whimper and quickly pulls back. Over and over again, he continues to fuck me on the pool table. Through half-lidded eyes I see his partner across the table rubbing herself between her legs. Silly me! I thought his partner was a guy. Oh well. I really haven't been all there since I gave that one guy a blowjob. The constant pounding to my pussy increases and grows in force. A moment of lucidity breaks through to my brain and I remember that I haven't taken my pills. "...please," I beg. Our fucking has taken a higher gear and he's giving me everything he's got. The room ebbs and flows back and forth from the fucking I'm getting. By now, my pussy has gotten wet enough to allow him to slide without causing so much pressure. I feel like I'm just an open hole down there. I grunt and try to maintain control of myself. Reflexively, my hips gyrate with the motions and create a greater sense of pleasure. I'm trying to stop him, and my body is helping him fuck me more. "Please, don't..." I try to tell him to stop before cumming, but I can't get the words out. Below me, my nipples attached to large, hanging tits are swaying back and forth stimulating my brown, cone-shaped nipples on the green felt. The hands are gripping more tightly, and his cock seems to be growing. "Please, don't..." My body is shocked by an immediate and severe thrashing accompanied by coarse grunts followed by strong pulses from his cock inside, and suddenly his cock is sliding back and forth on a glassy sheen inside. He did it! He came inside of me. Mm, he came inside. We both relax, exhausted, and he pulls out of me. I'm so open and loose now. A drop of warm liquid runs down the inside of my thighs. "Yea, that'll teach you to tease me, little girl," he spits. My knees are wobbling, and it's hard to stand. Thank goodness I'm leaning over this table. Gingerly, I lean up and see where I need to hit the ball as if by magic. My breasts are laying on the table below me, but I'm really bending over very far. I guess my big tits have a way of getting me in trouble, huh? I hit the ball and lean back to keep it from smacking into my tits. As if guided by an unseen force it makes contact with the solid, black ball and knocks it into a pocket. I lean back and plop onto the barstool. The cool, smooth material showcasing a brand of beer molds to the bottom of my pussy and ass, and I lean back in a half daze. A girl could get used to this. People around the table begin to cheer loudly. I guess someone won. That's nice, I say to myself dreamily. "Come on, sweety. Let's get out of here and let the lovebirds enjoy themselves," Mr. Plesier commands as he hooks his arm through mine and leads me away. Over my shoulder, I spy the hunky guy and a busty girl fucking on the same pool table I was one just moments ago. "You and me are going to have a lot of fun together, aren't we? Did you have fun?" he asks without allowing me to answer. "Watching you fuck like that got me to thinking. I bet you like the thought of getting knocked up. How about's you and me try to put a little bun in your oven. What do you say? My goodness, my little girl gonna fuck a baby into her little belly..." Mr. Plesier continued to talk as we left the bar. I honestly don't really remember much before our game of pool, but I do like the idea of getting knocked up. Once outside, he opens my door and leads me in. I watch him dance around the front of the car to the driver's side and place my hands on my belly. Looking down, I see a golden ring topped with a large diamond on my left hand. I sigh. Mrs. Plesier... end