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Subject: {>500 words} RP: Playing Pool by BronwenSM (FF/M, femdom-ish)
From: bronwen@anon.nymserver.com (BronwenSM)

This is an entry for Celeste's short story competition. If you like
it, please E-mail her at Celeste801@aol.com and say so! :-)

The contest closes on Monday 16th June - so if you want this story to
win, don't delay!


                      Playing Pool by BronwenSM
                             (FF/M, femdom-ish) 
 
                                 @---->---->-----

I go drinking a lot with Sheena. Sheena has a square backside and a
moustache but she is what you might call assertive and, like me,
obsessed with sex, so we both get a lot. It's the old plain
girl/pretty girl routine, but they don't complain. Wouldn't dare, with
Sheena.

Last week we went to The Lamb, away from the riverside places we
usually trawl, because it's got a poolroom in the back. Otherwise it's
the worst sort of English pub, pitch dark in daylight with everything
decorated in shades of brown.

But Sheena loves pool. She sets those thin lips, and squints down the
cue. She always wins - or nearly. I only play to show off my cleavage.

On Friday a wholly objectionable old-fashioned misogynist was making a
nuisance of himself. "Fucking women," he said bitterly. "Playing a
man's game. Why can't you stay where you're put - on your backs?" This
got a laugh from a group of lads at the back. He went on and on, even
offered to buy us a girly drink if we'd move to the other bar.

Sheena straightened up from her practice shots. "Bet you can't beat
me," she said.

"Oh yeah, and what do you bet?" he sneered.

"£100," she said. Enough to impress the lads.

"Naah," he said. "Tell you what, I'll play you for a screw."

"You're on," she said, without missing a beat, and I passed her the
coins for another game.

There's not a lot of point in building up the suspense, though there
was suspense by the bucketful. Sheena only almost always wins... But
she came good this time. Flattened the shitbag into the rug.

As the last ball went down he was so fucking angry and uncomfortable.
He cleared his throat and reached for his wallet. "£100, you said."

"Oh, no!" Sheena barked. "We played for sex, and sex we will have."

Her eyes met mine. It was one of those moments. I doubled up giggling.

"And as it was me who won, but it was her money, you owe us both. You
can start by kissing my arse." And the crazy cow dropped her jeans in
the middle of the room.

We had that bastard good. We wouldn't let him touch us  - Sheena leant
against the bar with her jeans round her ankles and I leaned back on
my stool and raised my skirt. I couldn't stop laughing.

We just pulled down our panties and made him suck and finger us off.
Fuck, did we make him work! Gave him a better use for his tongue than
bad-mouthing good women. He tried to back down, but we taunted him.
"Gutless", we called him, though I have to say that after the first
few minutes he didn't try to back down at all.

At first the young guys watched in total amazement, but then they
slunk off. It's not a pretty sight, watching a grown man cry....  or
eat his words.

(c) BronwenSM 1997.




BronwenSM
Accept no substitute

@--->--->-----

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