Trick Shot Hustler

Slack thunk!

Of course, she totally missed her break shot and with hardly any movement from the racked balls to show for being hit, she scratched.

"You fucking prick," she said, as I grinned and I took the cue ball out the pocket next to me. I moved around to where she was still standing and let my hip bump hers to get her to move over.

"Oh, excuse me, I didn't see you there," I said as I placed the cue to the right of center.

She gave me a slight shove.

"Don't touch me, you pervert." She walked away and stood with her arms crossed as I sent the half-racked balls to every possible point on the table. I let slip a grin as the nine-ball dropped into the pocket right in front of her. She gave me a disgusted look. "Lucky shot."

"Nope, it takes skill to be that lucky." I bragged, even though I agreed with her a hundred percent. That had been pure luck. "Rack 'em."

"I would love to," she said and her eyes dropped to my crotch.

With my balls wanting to draw up at that threat, I stood there with that shit-eating grin while she set the table. I watched her lean forward to place the gathered balls in the rack. I wished, as the sports bra came into view, that she hadn't been wearing that. The cleavage on that tank top opened up very nicely to put her chest on display. When she lifted the rack away, she looked up and caught my eyes then looked down following my gaze. I heard her mutter "perv" as she moved away.

I again set the cue ball to the right of center.

"For the win."

With my best sledge hammer break, I sent every ball rocketing out from the point of impact. From corner to corner and side rail to side rail they bounced, smacking each other over and over. I looked from pocket to pocket, my teeth starting to clench as motion slowed.

She began to laugh then stopped as the nine slowly rolled towards the side pocket. It stopped right on the edge. She let out a sigh of relief, picked up her cue, and then her mouth grimaced realizing that the yellow one-ball was in the wrong spot. To hit it, she would have to go around the six-ball and the four. I watched her face as it came to her that if she tapped either one of them, I could place the cue so I would hit the one ball into that barely hanging nine-ball.

I have to give her props. She decided to play safe and snookered me into an even deeper hole. As I walked around the table, looking for my shot I decided to stir her up a bit more.

"You didn't answer my question," I said as I looked at the felt, imagining different patterns of trick shots.

"What question...Oh!" She blushed as she remembered. Then she got an angry look on her face. "Ah, that is none of your business."

"It's a simple question," I said as I leaned in and lined up the cue. "Do you or do you not like to be taken from...behind?" The pool cue tapped the cue ball and it did an amazing dance around the green six, slid past the purple four and tapped the yellow one-ball hard enough to make it move. It touched the seven and the crimson ball dropped. I still didn't have any kind of follow up shot for the two-ball after I sink the one, but I was out of that trap. I looked up at her, enjoying the amazed look on her face. "Or are you strictly a straight-sex kinda girl?"

"Not. Your. Fucking. Business," she said getting really angry.

"Sorry. I just wanted to make sure I did you justice in my fantasy." I leaned the cue stick against my collar bone. "You're too sexy to just make up whatever I like a woman to do. That would take most of the fun out of it."

"You're a sick, fucking pervert, and I don't want to play anymore." She started to walk to the rack on the wall to hang her cue.

My eyes dropped to the just-hidden curves of her ass.

"That's a shame. You would look sexy as hell in high heels. I saw a pair at Von Maur the other day when I was trying to find me a new fedora. They were a sexy candy-apple red, maybe about a five inch heel. You would look like a goddess in them."

"I would look like a French Quarter prostitute in them," she said dismissively.

"Alright, a sex goddess in them. They were two hundred bucks." I let my hand slide slowly, seductively up the length of my pool cue. "Want them?"

Ah, the beautiful agony of the conflict that flashed across her face then. She clenched and unclenched her teeth together; then looked away from me to the money on the wooden stool. "There's only sixty there. What do I have to do for those shoes?"

"Keep playing," I said. She gave a slow nod and started back towards the table. Then I added, "And answer my question."

That stopped her in her tracks.

"I can see the wheels turning behind your eyes. Do I answer the embarrassing sex question from the pervert? Will he really buy me a pair of two hundred dollar shoes? Why does he want to know that? Really?" Leaning my stick against the table, I slowly walked over to stand in front of her. "Because you have a spectacular ass. Yes, I really will buy you the shoes...because I want to see you in them." I leaned in right next to Casandra's ear and whispered, "And will you please answer my question?"

I was close enough to her to hear her breathing when it became a nervous pant.

"No," she said softly.

I looked her in the eyes for a second then nodded. Turning, I walked to the stool and scooped up my twenties. Folding them, I stuck them in my pocket and broke down my cue stick to put it away into it's case.

"I didn't like it," she finished.

Turning, I looked at her. Casandra's face was beet red.

"It hurt. Anal, it hurt." She took her left elbow into her hand and hugged herself. "It hurt and he didn't want to stop, I...I really don't want to talk about it." She swallowed and looked away. "Not to you or anyone."

Well, color me a shit heel. I wet my lips and moved over to stand in front of her, but she did not look up at me. Her eyes were focused on a spot off to the right. I knew without looking there was nothing on that part of the basement wall.

"Casandra." I placed my hand over hers on the pool cue she held. "Cassy...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed. I was just being flirty...in my odd way."

"I said not to call me that," she told me softly. "I don't like that name anymore, and I wish everyone would stop using it."

I could see that there was something very bad behind that wish. Some memory that she was pushing away. Curiosity made me want to ask. The more gentle part of me wanted to help. The hustler in me wanted to use it to win.

"Let's just play," she said, twitching her fingers under mine to prompt me to move them. "It's your shot still."

As I took my hands away, I suddenly didn't like my bet anymore. Hell, I would have bought her the shoes now just to see her smile as she put them on. That fact hit me as I turned to the table. My heart wasn't in the game anymore. The desire to win the bet was gone. Should I play to lose? I've never done that. The hustler in me was screaming, "Are you fucking insane? You don't have two hundred dollars!" I leaned in and lined up the cue ball.

The two-ball and it's next of kin dropped easily. On the four I had a difficult shot and tapped the eight-ball first. The eight touched that teetering nine-ball, and when it dropped, the score was two/two.

As I got the rack down and started to sort them for nine-ball, I went into autopilot. Not really paying attention to what I was doing, just doing it. My mind was racing over the idea of deliberately losing. Not only losing, but doing it after I had so dramatically raised the bet. Raised it to a point I would be hard put to pay it off. What the hell was I thinking? Looking up at her standing there I realized I hadn't been. I had been just grudge-flirting with my friend's sister. Not a thought in my head other than to make this girl that couldn't stand me mad. Mad enough to lose the bet. Hell, even what I was playing for didn't matter to me. I was not really the panty-sniffing type.

Casandra leaned in, and her stick smacked the cue ball hard. I watched the clean break. The six dropped. Then the four. As I watched her playing, I could not help but still checking her out. I realized as I was watching her move that I was not just enjoying the view, I was savoring it. Like a fine meal, a cold beer on a hot night, a delicious piece of cobbler. At some point in this game she had gone from being a friend's bitch younger sister to a girl I wouldn't mind taking out on a date.

And here I was playing pool for a pair of her panties. Not that I was liable to get them the way she was playing now. I was starting to become seriously worried about losing two hundred bucks when she scratched on the six.

As I took in the table, I realized that barring bad luck, I had the game. Game and match. Bet won, underwear earned.

"I'm sorry," I said in the silence of the basement. She looked up and I saw a moment of anger cross her eyes. She thought I meant about the game. "That your boyfriend was a prick. I'm sorry he did that to you."

Why I felt that need just then to offer her comfort, I'm not sure. Maybe because I was about to add to her private humiliation by taking something very personal from her.

"I really don't want to discuss my sex life with you while we're alone in this basement." Her tone was final. Then she looked off to the spot she had been staring at earlier.

As I glanced over there, I noticed now that it wasn't a blank piece of wall after all. It held a memory. A memory that for her was far from pleasant. I remembered then just how scared she had been when she walked down and saw someone down here. That hadn't been simple fright, that had been deep terror and the anger that followed it now made a lot more sense.

"It's your shot," she said with a raised eyebrow. "What's the matter? I thought you were wanting to sniff my panties...you fucking perv."

After that the hustler was not going to let me lose either. I felt him rear up behind my eyeglasses like a snake ready to strike me if I did one inch less than my best. Walking around the table, I leaned in and made my shot.

Six.

Seven

Eight.

And then there was nine.

"Nine-ball left corner." I pointed with my cue to make sure there was no misunderstanding. It was a habit I had learned down at Rackums. Looking at her, I saw there was still a lack of respect in her eyes for me and for the way I played. "Cue ball back to center."

"What?" she asked not understanding.

Leaning in, I showed her. The blue-smudged white ball rolled over and just kissed the nine-ball into the corner pocket then, as if it had been put into reverse, it rolled back across the table and came to rest in the very middle of the green felt. You could have taken a tape measure and I would have doubled my bet that it was not off center by more than an eighth of an inch.

I leaned back into my Gandalf pose, the chalked tip of the cue nestled just above my cheek. As I watched her come to understand that she had just lost, I knew that I had also just played one of the better games in my life. Yeah, maybe there had been some element of luck in the way the balls ended up or the way that the final shot worked its way out, but then as I said, it takes a certain amount of skill to make that kind of luck happen.

I lifted my eyebrow when she made no move to pay up.

"I wasn't wearing any. Panties before I showered." Suddenly her face split into a grin. "Nah, nah, da nah nah! I guess someone's not going to get to smell my pussy after all."

A red flash of anger!

Even when I tried out to ran track in high school, I don't think I have ever moved that fast from a dead standstill. I was across the distance and up against her in far less than a second. She let out a squeak as my arm came around her, the wood pool cue pressed into her back, trapping her against my chest. Her face was right in front of mine, and I was breathing in her startled breaths, tasting second hand the mint of her mouthwash and toothpaste.

The desire to kiss her was overwhelming. Leaning in those last few inches, I used my hold on her to keep her from moving back, and I placed my lips on hers. She let me kiss her for a second then began to pull her face away from mine. I wonder if she felt my smile just as our lips began to part? The gasp from her, as my left hand moved up her thigh and my fingers went under the edge of those shorts, all but sucked air out of my mouth.

"A bet is a bet," I told her softly.

My fingers brushed warm silky-soft skin, puffy lips dusted just slightly with a bit of stubble. I ran them down between her outer lips, just letting my middle finger ride across her clit then dipped it slightly inside her. She lifted herself up onto her toes as I brushed a finger a half an inch or so into her warmth. A breathy moan that was so soft I would not have heard it if I hadn't been so close escaped her when I pulled that finger back out and removed my hand from her shorts.

Casandra was panting, her eyes wide as I stepped back, my hand still with the pool cue brushing across the tight muscles of her back. Her eyes followed me as I brought my left hand up to my face. Holding my fingers under my nose, I breathed deeply the scent that was on them. All warm vanilla sugar perfume mixed with a hinted-at musk that was her own scent.

Her jaw dropped as I placed my finger into my mouth and let the taste of her flood my tongue. I closed my eyes and breathed deep as I pulled them out. The her scent was all wet and warm and it filled my nose with an aroma of heaven. I wanted to suck my fingers clean of it and dip them back in for more, like I was licking cake batter from a bowl with my fingers.

When I opened my eyes, she was watching me, her chest rising in a steady pant. Her face was a deep red flush.

"My god, you taste delicious." I let a smile slowly build. "I was right, you would be some very high stakes betting."

She blinked, blushed, blinked some more. Slowly, she collected herself and decided angry was what she needed to be...

"I cannot believe you just fucking did that to me. I cannot..." she sputtered.

"Wish I had done it years ago. You're a wonderful kisser as well." I grinned. I let my eyes drop down her body "And sexy as hell."

"You! You..."

I turned away from her.

Breaking down the cue stick, I spun it off the threaded end and walked over to my case, ignoring her slowly building diatribe of riotous anger at me for having stolen a kiss and a taste of her pussy. I was still sliding in the pieces when I noticed the sudden silence. Turning to look, I found out I was not the only person in this basement that can move very fast.

Casandra's mouth slammed into mine with almost brutal force! Her breath, tasting heavily of mint, pushed its way into my nose as her tongue drove its way into my mouth, seeking mine. Her hands clawed at my hair, pulling me deeper into the kiss. I vaguely registered the sound of her pool cue hitting the floor behind her.

Then her full weight was on me as she jumped up and wrapped her legs around my hips and pulled me tight to her. Her mouth never stopped kissing me, and by this time, I was starting to figure out just what was happening.

Alrighty then. No objections to this from my side, I'll tell you.

Cupping her ass with both hands, my fingers under the edge of those shorts, filled with soft warm flesh, I moved forward till I felt my knees against the side of the pool table. I used it to help hold my balance, and I returned her wild kisses for everything I was worth. Her fingers, strong and delicate-looking at a distance, were all but claws as she pulled at my hair and my T-shirt. She seemed to want to rip the clothes off of me to get at me. I let those vice-like thighs hold her weight long enough for me to peel my shirt over my head. She pulled at the cloth when it blocked her access to my mouth then all but loosened a tooth as soon as it was out the way.

Damn, what had gotten into this girl?

Well, I could say with the way things are going, I knew exactly what was about to get into her. My mind raced, trying to remmber if I had a condom in my wallet. The answer of "Yes there are three." came from some currently unoccupied part of my mind. I thanked it and then told it to find something better to do with its time. It answered by suggesting the sliding of a hand under Casandra's shirt and the filling of my palm with a bra-covered breast.

Who am I to turn down that sort of suggestion?

The wildcat in my arms purred when I did just that. I felt a nipple as hard as a pebble under that thin cloth, and gave it a gentle pinch. She moaned and moved her mouth from my lips to just by my ear.

"Not so idde-bitty titty-comittee now are they?" she asked, then began to gnaw on my neck while she waited for an answer.

"Not at all," I answered. I gave her breast a hard squeeze, feeling the moan through her teeth into my shoulder muscle, as she nibbled her way down the side of my neck.

Catching the bottom edge of her shirt, I pulled it easily over her head then went looking for the snaps for this sports bra. A quick check front and back reveled there wasn't one. At her giggle she sat back from me and caught the bottom edge. I watched her peel it off over her head, but my eyes were instantly glued to those dark rose nipples. Unable to help it, I leaned in and sucked one into my mouth. She gasped and clawed my head closer to her chest smothering me in those firm breasts.

As some point in this she had loosened her grip around my waist and she was now sitting on the pool table. Sucking on a nipple, reveling in that nub of pleasure, I realized just what it was that I really wanted just then. Releasing her nipple with a sucking pop, I leaned back and looked down at her slim body. Her legs were straddled around me still, with me at the perfect "V" between them. As she started to move forward to kiss me again I stopped her with a hand between those perky breasts.

"What?" she asked, and then her eyes went a bit wide as I applied pressure and made her lean back onto the green felt. I let my finger leave that valley as it flattened out and travel down across the soft white plain of her stomach, I circled her navel which made her giggle. I put that knowledge away for a later day as I let my fingers travel even further south. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Leaning in, I let my lips touch her skin just above that sensitive belly button. I loved the way her stomach muscles contracted under the touch. The warm heat of her skin was so very briefly against my mouth. I tried to let my tongue dip out to taste her skin, but the muscles again flinched back before I touched. Looking up at her across the valley of her cleavage, I smiled at her. She gave me a strange look.

"What are you doing?" she asked again with a puzzled smile.

I licked my lips and smiled back.

"I want another taste."

My hands caught the waist band of her shorts and they were out from under her ass before she knew what I was about to do. Her legs came up either side of me quickly, but that would have only aided me in getting her completely naked. Naked was not what I was after at the moment. A mouth full of her pussy, warm and wet with passion was.

With both her her legs extended above me towards the ceiling, those shorts around her knees ignored for now, I leaned her legs back enough and simply buried my face into her. Her gasp of surprise became a scream of pleasure as I wasted no time in sampling the menu before I feasted on the whole buffet. Wet lips, slick with her juices, moved under my mouth, opening up to my tongue, as I tried to see just how far into her I could taste. She gasped when I proved that was quite far indeed. I let my mouth explore, finding all the secret places where pleasure hid. I opened those hidden spots and made her understand that I was not making any plans to leave here till I found every single one. She screeched when I touched her clit, ever so briefly.