Cue

Author's Notes: This story has been posted to Literotica. Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.

Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

This story has been edited by myself with the use of Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

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Blouchen Billiards held an annual contest in eight ball. Each contestant put up fifty dollars for the chance to play. First place got five hundred dollars, second place got two hundred and fifty dollars and third place got one hundred dollars.

The first time the contest was held, Eddy Jones lost a hundred dollars. But, after tallying up the beer sales and hamburger sales and nachos sales, the proprietor of Blouchen Billiards saw he'd actually come out a little ahead. The next year, he'd had forty three people sign up and cleared a very healthy profit. The number of entries had been rising every year and last year, he increased the prize money to one thousand, five hundred and two hundred and fifty dollars. Eddy also doubled the entrance fee and very few contestants complained.

This year, all twelve of the billiards tables would be in constant rotation. Eddy hired three off-duty police officers to keep the peace; some people were prone to be sore losers.

-.-

Zane Aaronson sat at a table, glumly waiting for Nicholas Cohen, her boyfriend to return. He was one of the ninety three people that had signed up this year and was quite confident that he would win first place. So far, he'd managed to eliminate three opponents and had not endeared himself to those three or friends of those three players with his brash talk.

While waiting for his next turn, rather than coming to the table and spending a few moments with Zane, Nicholas was swaggering about, posturing, talking trash to the other contestants.

"Hey, Eddy, tell this punk ass kid shut his mouth before I shut it for him," a burly biker demanded of the owner.

"Son, I'm not going protect you out in the parking lot, hear?" one of the police officers told the arrogant twenty year old. "Bucky decides split your head open? Too bad so sad, feel me?"

Zane perked up as Eddy called out 'Helmont and Cohen; table three.' She gasped as she saw a beautiful woman stride to Table three. The woman had deep brown eyes, pouting lips in a beautiful smile, and curly brown hair that reached down to her buttocks. Her large breasts were encased in a black patent leather vest and her breasts threatened to spill out. Her denim cutoffs revealed long expanse of sleek tanned legs and a plump camel toe. When she turned to 'lag' so that they could determine who would break, Zane saw that the woman's cutoffs left a good portion of her well-rounded buttocks exposed.

She watched as the brunette placed a vinyl case onto the table and opened it. From her seated position, Zane could not see into the case but she watched as the woman removed a dark wood handle with intricate designs carved into the wood from the case. The woman then pulled out a slim tapered piece of wood and screwed it into the first piece. She tested the weight in her hand, then unscrewed the bottom of the dark piece of wood and slipped a circular weight onto the base. She tested the cue stick's weight again and nodded with satisfaction. She then closed and latched the case and slid the case under the table, out of the way.

One of the cute 'Rack Girls' smiled and racked the fifteen balls for the competition. Eddy had hired four college girls to dress in bikini tops and shorts to rack the balls. This way, no one could claim improper racking or any subterfuge or sabotage by any other player.

"Might as well go sit down, Sonny," Lynn Helmont smiled, bending to break the balls.

Zane watched the woman's large breasts threatening to spill out of the top of her leather vest as she leaned forward. There was a resounding 'crack' and the three ball and the fifteen ball found a pocket.

Nicholas stood, mouth agape as the brunette ran the table, calling each shot before taking it. One of the young men that Nicholas had bested now jeered mightily as the beauty easily defeated him.

"That, that's not, that's not fair," Nicholas screamed, outraged as Lynn put the eight ball in the corner pocket.

"What? What's not fair about it?" Eddy challenged. "You both lagged; she won the lag. She broke and put two balls in. She decided to go with the high balls and called every shot. So, what am I missing here, Sonny?"

"I, I didn't get a shot," Nicholas protested.

"And?" Eddy asked, shaking his head at Nicholas's foolish protestation.

"Hey Eddy, tell you what, best two out of three?" Lynn offered, laughing at Nicholas.

"Hear that, Sonny?" Eddy said.

The rack girl racked the balls again. Magnanimously, Lynn waved Nicholas over and let him break. Zane recognized the look of absolute rage on her boyfriend's face as he bent to break the balls. She'd seen that look more than once and was terrified of that look. He had never struck her, but the potential was always there, just underneath the surface.

His biceps rippled in his torn tee shirt; Nicholas had ripped the sleeves off of the Myndee University Blue Jays tee shirt to show off his muscled physique. There was a resounding crack and the balls scattered. The two ball rolled into the lower corner pocket and Nicholas called the five into the side pocket.

He missed his third shot and Lynn stepped up. With a cheeky smile, she again ran the table. Zane noticed; Lynn never moved from her position. The cue ball kept returning to her for her to take her next shot.

"Eight ball, upper right corner; bank," Lynn smiled and did exactly that. "Oh well, sonny, was it fair this time?"

With a savage blow, Nicholas broke his cue stick across the billiards table. He then turned and stormed out of Blouchen Billiards. He held up his middle finger as several people called out after him.

"Shit! Wait!" Zane remembered; she was miles away from her Clarkston County Road apartment complex. She had arrived with Nicholas; if he left her there, she would have no way home. With a skittering gait, she ran to the door just in time to see Nicholas race out of the parking lot. A west bound car had to slam on its brakes, horn blaring. An east bound truck swerved to avoid Nicholas's car and almost collided with the west bound car.

Returning to the table, Zane picked up the slim vinyl bag Nicholas had packed his cue stick into. She dutifully picked up the two pieces of his cue, seeing that he'd snapped the tapered portion just above the brass screw mechanism. Slipping the two pieces into the bag, she then looped the carrying strap over her shoulder. Brushing her waist length dark hair back, Zane looked around the very noisy, packed pool hall. She wondered what she should do.

She saw Nicholas's Myndee University hooded sweatshirt looped over the back of her chair and grabbed it. She slipped it on, even though it was several sizes too large for her small frame. Her hands were not visible in the long sleeves.

"Order up!" she heard a male voice call out just as Eddy called out for 'Campbell Bucky, table three.'

Zane realized she was hungry and felt in her pocket for her debit card. Then she remembered; Nicholas had borrowed her card for the entry fee. She felt in the pockets of Nicholas's sweatshirt but did not find her card.

"Oh no, oh no you ain't..." Zane thought, hurriedly fishing her cell phone out.

He'd apparently turned his phone off; her call went straight to his voice mail. She left a message that he was not to use her debit card.

"Yeah. Gee, I wonder why," Zane asked herself when she realized she'd not asked him to come back and pick her up.

A moment later, she had a thought and went onto her bank account. Reporting the card as missing or stolen, Zane then changed her password. She mentally kicked herself for giving Nicholas her password, but she was in love. Then, she reminded herself, he was supposedly in love with her. But he'd abandoned her in a fit of rage. She would have never abandoned him in a strange place with such a large crowd of rough looking people.

She also thought back to the look of rage on her boyfriend's face. And, had he had the presence of mind to wait for her, she was sure she would be hearing all about the unfairness of it all. But, he would not have been at fault. The other player would not have been more talented. It would have just been unfair.

Zane again looked around, wondering what to do. She was miles away from her apartment, stranded here without cash or card. In the three months and four days of their romance, Nicholas had effectively removed, alienated all of Zane's friends; none would even talk to her anymore. She was sure one or two of the tattooed, hairy, smelly greasy looking people scattered around would be happy to give her a ride home. But at what cost? And, would she even make it home? Some of these people looked absolutely criminal.

"Ain't easy being five feet tall, is it?" Zane asked herself.

She had long thigh length brown hair, big brown eyes, a button nose and button mouth. Zane had button sized breasts; she wore a 26A bra, whenever she did wear a bra. Her drunkard father's nickname for her had been 'Buttons' and she had hated the name. She had also hated his flashes of rage...

Bright shiny red leather garnered her attention and Zane watched a well-endowed blonde woman step up to Table three. The woman wore a red patent leather corset dress. Her shoulders were bare and the hem of the skirt ended at mid-thigh. Her lipstick and stiletto heeled pumps matched the dress. Just as the other beauty had done, the blonde opened a hard vinyl case, removed a dark handle, then affixed a tapered end. She tested the balance of the stick, then added two weights to the base of the handle.

"That would be his excuse," Zane smirked. "Adding weights to the stick would have given her an unfair advantage."

Bucky, Sam Bucky was an immense pot-bellied man with hairy arms and chest and belly. His leather vest had several patches on it and his blue jeans looked as if he had never washed them. His balding head was slick with sweat and his few strands of long stringy hair hung down into his eyes.

Bucky won the right to break and managed to get five balls off the table. His lecherous grin made Zane shudder and she avoided eye contact with the behemoth.

"Got this, Chris!" Lynn Helmont called out as the blonde bent to make her first shot.

"I got this, Sweetie," Christine Campbell agreed. "Twelve in the upper right corner.

Zane felt her mouth go dry as she could see the beginnings of Chris Campbell's delectable buttocks peek into view as the back of her skirt rose up. She could tell the beauty had managed the difficult shot by the curse that escaped Bucky's lips.

"Fifteen, same pocket," Chris announced, leaning forward a little more.

Zane stared at Chris's buttocks, separated by a thin strap of bright red satin. Another curse from Bucky and a cheer from Lynn let Zane know Chris was doing well.

"Fucking cunt!" Bucky bellowed as Chris called out 'Eight Ball, lower left corner' after sinking all of the striped balls.

""Eddy! Best two out of three?" Bucky demanded, pointing toward Lynn. "Huh? You let that fucking bitch have best two out of three. Come on, best two out of three here, huh?"

"Number one, Bucky, that woman was the one that let some dumb ass kid have best two out of three," Eddy said. "She'd beat his ass and he was the one whining about it."

"He wants two out of three, I'm all right with that," Chris smiled, displaying perfect teeth.

"There you go. Two out of three," Bucky smirked.

Again, they lagged to see who would break first. Zane did not have to be a psychologist to notice that Bucky was hopping on adrenaline. He lost the lag; his ball struck the bumper and returned several inches whereas Chris's ball barely bumped against the cushion.

"Good, isn't she?" Lynn said, taking a seat at Zane's table.

"You kidding? You. You're unbelievable," Zane praised.

"Oops! That's me!" Lynn said, grabbing her case when she heard Carlos yell out 'Helmont Hooper, table nine.'

Zane shrank back when she saw the thunderous look on Sam Bucky's face as Chris ran the table. On her break, she put two low balls into pockets then just continued until only the eight ball and the high balls remained. Bucky sneered; apparently he thought she'd have to concede the shot; his twelve was in front of the eight ball.

"Eight ball, side pocket," she called out.

"Can't use my twelve ball," he smirked.

"Won't have to," she assured him, angling her cue stick and causing the cue ball to jump over his twelve ball.

"I, she, she can't, you can't do that!" Bucky howled in outrage when the eight ball slowly dropped into the side pocket.

"Let me guess; best three out of four?" Eddy smirked.

"You, you saw that shit? You saw that shit? She, you, you can't do that," Bucky protested.

"Show me. Show me where you can't do that," Eddy challenged. "Come on Bucky, you got beat. Just cowboy up, huh?"

Bucky also earned himself a lifetime ban from Blouchen Billiards when he hurled his cue stick at Christine. Zane was dutifully impressed; Christine must have anticipated the move. She used her own cue stick to deflect the projectile.

A young woman with numerous tattoos covering arms and legs picked up Bucky's discarded stick. She carefully broke the two piece unit down before putting the pieces into a vinyl bag and sauntering after the still loudly braying Bucky.

Zane had noticed the scantily clad woman when they'd entered; the woman was even shorter than Zane's five feet. She had wondered why such a young woman would be with the misshapen, bloated, balding man. Then, seeing the woman up close just now, Zane realized, the woman was much older than she'd first appeared. Her long hair was shot through with gray, the skin was leathery, and the crow's feet in the corners of her eyes and her mouth were quite deep.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Down to twenty!" Eddy called out. "We are down to twenty players still standing!"

"What's that mean?" Zane braved asking Christine Campbell when the blonde casually sat at the table.

"Means a half hour break; they're going to brush down all the tables, give us a chance to go potty, grab a bite," Lynn said. "Hey babe, see Bucky didn't take it well."

"Christine Campbell," Chris said to Zane.

"Zane. Zane Aaronson," Zane said.

"Lynn Helmont," Lynn introduced herself. "What you want to eat?"

"Half pound sounds good," Chris said.

"Zane?" Lynn asked, getting to her feet.

"Oh. I, I uh, I don't; Nicholas ran out of here with my debit card," Zane confessed.

"Okay. So what you want to eat?" Lynn asked, resting a casual hand on Zane's narrow shoulder.

"A burger," Zane whispered, embarrassed.

While Lynn elbowed her way to the counter, Christine chatted with Zane. Soon, Zane forgot her embarrassment. She forgot her worries about getting home from this unfamiliar pool hall.

"While we wait..." Lynn said, thunking a heavy pitcher of Gratchley's Draft onto the table.

"Oh! I, I uh, I'm not old enough," Zane protested.

"You're eighteen?" Christine asked, pausing in pouring a glass of beer.

"Yeah, just made nineteen," Zane agreed.

"Okay then," Christine said, placing the foaming liquid in front of the girl.

Lynn took the seat next to Zane. Christine poured her a beer and the three sat in comfortable silence, sipping the beer. Zane absently bobbed her head along with the music bleeding from a ruptured speaker overhead. She knew the song but couldn't name it.

"Hey Lynn!" a girl called out just as Lynn was finishing her own beer.

"Yay! Food," Lynn said, placing her hand directly onto Zane's upper thigh as she pushed herself to stand.

Zane felt stricken as the beautiful brunette's hand came to rest on her bare leg. The feeling of Lynn's warm, strong hand had radiated from the point of contact throughout Zane's entire frame. She shivered, feeling somewhat cold when Lynn's warm hand left her thigh.

"And, no onions, no pickles for Miss Picky Eater," Lynn teased, placing Christine's plate down.

"Uh huh; and let me guess, Miss No Tomatoes, if I have a tomato I will die," Christine agreed, absently scratching her left breast with a highly polished red fingernail.

Zane watched the fingernail as it raked the quite large breast. More and more of the leather slid down, exposing more and more of Christine's breast. Suddenly, just before Christine's areole came into view, the finger stopped and Zane realized Christine was watching her as she watched Christine's finger. She flamed almost as red as Christine's bright red patent leather dress.

After devouring her burger, Zane had to scurry to the bathroom. Nicholas was forever mocking her; she had a tiny bladder. Beer just went right through her.

The bathroom was sparkling clean; Zane was grateful for this fact. She simply could not tinkle in a dirty bathroom. With a sigh, she used the facilities. As she perched on the toilet, she reflected on her relationship with Nicholas Cohen. He mocked her for her tiny bladder. He made fun of her short stature. He teased her for her pale complexion.

Looking down at her clothing, a pink half shirt that left her belly exposed and Daisy Duke Shorts that Nicholas had insisted she wear. Then, instead of telling her she looked cute, sexy, attractive, he made fun of her small breasts and stubby legs.

"You know what? I, I deserve better," Zane told herself, dabbing at her sparse tendrils of brown.

"They're trying to get all the names matched for the next round," Christine told Zane when Zane exited the bathroom.

"Oh. Okay," Zane said, looking at the counter where Eddy Jones and two other men stood, comparing notes.

"Ever play snooker?" Lynn asked, grabbing Zane's hand and pulling her to a snooker table.

"No. It anything like pool?" Zane asked, looking at the odd bumpers on the table.

"Kind of," Lynn agreed, placing a snooker cue into Zane's hand. "You and me against Chris, okay?"

"Prepare for defeat," Christine smiled.

Zane could feel Lynn's full breasts pressing into her back, even through heavy hoody and half shirt. She could feel Lynn's warm breath in her ear as Lynn bent her over the table, hands guiding Zane's hands.

"Oh God!" Zane moaned to herself at the very intimate contact.

She wasn't sure of the outcome. She and Lynn did manage to beat Christine but Zane was not sure if they really did beat the very skilled woman or if Christine simply allowed them to win. Zane could feel her hard nipples rasping against the soft material of her half shirt and was sure her crotch was dark with her excitement.

"Helmont Hackett! Table ten!" Eddy suddenly called out. "Dawson Graves, table nine."

"Wish me luck," Lynn said, delivering a kiss to Zane's lips.

"Good luck," Zane stammered out.

"You got this, Babe," Christine said, kissing Lynn on her lips.

When Eddy called out for Campbell, Christine also demanded a kiss for luck. Zane's head was in a fog as she did kiss the beautiful blonde. She then sat to watch Christine and a scowling middle aged man approach table three. A whoop at the other corner of the room told Zane that Lynn had managed an easy victory over Alan Hackett.

By some fluke Christine's opponent scratched on the eight ball; Christine won without ever taking a single shot. She breathed a sigh of relief and shared a tight smile with Zane.

"He had me cold," Christine confessed to Zane as she waited for her next opponent to be called.

"And then there were ten!" Eddy announced and called out the next pairings.

The energy level was very high as tables one, three, five, seven, and nine were now in use. Zane gave Christine and Lynn kisses for luck, then held her breath as Lynn took table one and Christine took table seven.

While Zane watched her two new friends compete, in a small shop in Myndee, Arkansas, Nicholas stood and admired the store's selection of billiard cues. The proprietor of the shop watched Nicholas through tired eyes; he'd seen hundreds of brash young guns in the store over the years.

"I uh, I was over at Blouchen Billiards," Nicholas said.

"Yeah? The competition? How'd you do?" Pete Helmont asked, not really interested.

"Fuck! This bitch? Totally cheated," Nicholas claimed.

"Yeah? And Eddy let her get away with that?" Pete asked, knowing that Edward Jones would not tolerate any form of cheating whatsoever on his premises.

"Aw, man! Bitch had on this fest, titties just falling out," Nicholas complained. "Don't think Eddy saw anything else but them titties handing there, know what I'm saying?"

"Uh huh," Pete agreed.

"This uh, this cue over here? Four hundred and eighty nine dollars?" Nicholas asked.

"That? That's a Bill Coski," Pete said, finally urging his bulk from his stool.

"A what?" Nicholas asked.

"Bill Coski. Coski. Pool shark back in the day," Pete said, getting the dark wood cue from the locked mount. "One time? Had this naked red head lying on the table? Ran the whole table, didn't touch her once. She's in the middle of the table and he's just 'pow! [pow! Pow!' shot after shot all around her. All six pockets and none of the balls ever touched her. Even when he broke, putting the fourteen ball in on the break."

"Why was she naked?" Nicholas asked.

Pete stared at Nicholas for a long moment. Then he shook his head as he unscrewed the two pieces of the cue stick to show the young man the cue.

"Because a naked red head is a lot more fun to look at than a red head that's not naked," Pete finally said. "And, here? The stopper at the base unscrews so you can add some weights to the base."

"Yeah, yeah, that girl; she put a couple of weights on there; got to be unfair, right?" Nicholas agreed.

"No. If it was against regulations, Bill wouldn't have added that feature to his cues. Now, the handle is made from Pau ferro and the top part of the cue is hard rock maple," Pete said, holding the cue out to Nicholas.

Nicholas liked the feel of the stick. He especially loved the intricate carvings of the four nude women that adorned the handle. He also selected four weights; two in two ounce measurements and two in four ounce measurements. A hard shell case like the one that Lynn Helmont bitch had used joined the stick, weights and replacement tips at the counter.

"Case, tips, weights..." Pete said, jabbing the keys on the computer keyboard. "All righty, comes to seven hundred ninety three dollars and seventeen cents."

Nicolas fished Zane Aaronson's debit card from his back pocket and slapped it on the counter. He was sure Zane would complain about the extravagant charge but Nicholas would just threaten to break up with her if she complained too much.

"Zane, huh? My grandfather had every paperback Zane Grey ever wrote. Man! Loved curling up with those books, just getting lost in..." Pete smiled, then faltered. "Uh, hey, Zane? Says this card's been reported as missing or stolen."

"Aw, that, that stupid cunt," Nicholas snarled, fishing his cell phone from his pocket.

While Nicholas was discovering that his girlfriend had blocked his number, Zane was on her feet, arm around Christine's waist as they watched Lynn and Terry Fontenot competing for first and second place. Christine almost laughed; Zane's eyes were as big as billiard balls as she watched the two trade shot for shot.

Both Terry and Lynn had won their last three matches by simply running the table. So, to decide placement, Eddy was fishing a poker chip from a bucket and calling the number out. The chips were numbered one through fifteen and the shooter had to sink that ball and no other ball.

"Twelve!" Eddy called out.

Terry missed; the twelve ball was hemmed in by the three and the fifteen. Turning, he shook Lynn's hand, conceding the game.

"So, in first place, we got Lynn Helmont, second place goes to Terry Fontenot and third place goes to Chris Campbell," Eddy announced and the few remaining patrons cheered for the successful competition. "See all of y'all next year, huh?"

"Yay!" Zane laughed, hugging Lynn.

"Yay, Babe, you did great," Christine said, hugging and kissing Lynn.

The three women finished the last few swallows from their pitcher of beer. Lynn asked Zane if she was ready to go and Zane confessed she needed to go tinkle again. Grabbing their cases, Lynn and Christine followed Zane into the small, well-lighted restroom.

Stepping out of the stall, Zane froze. Lynn was standing by the sinks, leather vest unbuttoned, exposing her large breasts. Christine had pushed the front of her dress to underneath her own very large breasts. Both women smiled at the diminutive girl as she stood, startled eyes swiveling from exposed breasts to exposed breasts.

"Hi," Lynn husked, reaching out and pulling Zane to her by a hank of Zane's long brown hair.

"I uh," Zane stammered as Lynn pressed Zane against the counter.

The sharp edge of the countertop dug into Zane's back. She could feel some moisture seeping through the thick material of Nicolas's hoody; someone had splashed some water onto the counter as they washed their hands.

Lynn's full lips pressed against Zane's lips. Zane gasped at the intimate contact and Lynn thrust her tongue into Zane's mouth.

Christine unzipped the hoody. Her blood red fingernails raked at Zane's exposed flesh before dipping up underneath Zane's half-shirt. Zane gasped as Christine's fingernails scraped across Zane's tightly crinkled areole and hard nipple.

"Oh, you got such cute little titties," Christine husked, firmly squeezing Zane's right breast.

"Yeah?" Lynn asked, releasing Zane's lips.

"Mm hmm," Christine agreed, leaning and kissing Zane's gasping lips.

"Oh, mmph!" Zane grunted as Lynn's hand gripped her left breast, thumb flicking across her hard nipple.

"This is wrong. This is so wrong," Zane's mind raced as tremors of pleasure washed over her.

Christine's hand trailed from Zane's right breast, over Zane's concave belly. Zane grunted as Christine deftly undid Zane's denim shorts and slowly pulled the zipper down.

"Oh what a pretty little pussy," Christine cooed, pulling her lips from Zane's lips.

Zane gasped and grunted, eyes tightly closed. She could feel Christine's fingernails combing through her sparse tendrils of pubic hair on her mound. She could feel Lynn's fingers teasing both nipples. In truth, Zane was afraid of opening her eyes; she was afraid of what she might see as the two women teamed up on her.

"God help me, make this stop, make this go away," Zane thought as the pleasure in her belly intensified.

"What pretty little titties," Lynn said, bending her head as she flipped the hem of the half-shirt up.

"Oh God," Zane groaned as Lynn's mouth encircled her tight areole.

"Mmph!" she grunted as Christine's fingers delved into her wet slit.

Christine tugged Zane's shorts down her stubby legs. The small garment puddled on the ground around Zane's ankles. Zane groaned, thrusting her hips forward as Christine shoved three fingers into Zane's drooling pussy.

"I got titties too," Lynn reminded Zane, pulling her sucking mouth from Zane's nipple.

"Mm mmm," Zane refused, shaking her head 'no.'

"I, I can't believe this is happening; please, please make it oh God I love..." Zane's fevered brain argued as the feelings ramped up.

"No? NO?" Lynn said.

"No?" Christine asked, jerking her fingers from Zane's pussy.

"I, I can't, I just, I just can't," Zane Whimpered.

Christine twisted Zane around, slamming Zane's torso onto the wet counter. Zane heard a 'click-click' as Lynn unlocked her cue case.

"No huh?" Lynn asked one last time as Christine held Zane bent at a forty five degree angle.

"I, I can't," Zane gasped out.

"Oh, she, I guess she needs cock," Lynn sneered to Christine.

"Then give her cock," Christine giggled, raking her fingernails across Zane's buttocks.

"Mmph! I, augh!" Zane cried out as Lynn forced the blunt end of her cue stick into Zane's wet pussy.

"Augh! Oh, I, oh, oh God!" Zane groaned as Lynn jammed the stick into her depths until the blunt end bumped painfully against her cervix.

Lynn held the stick against Zane's cervix for a long, painful moment. Then she withdrew the stick until just the base was inside of Zane. Then, savagely, she thrust the stick into Zane once more.

"I, I'll do it," Zane cried out. "I'll play with your..."

Lynn did not cease in her firm 'fucking' of Zane's helpless body. Again and again, the cue stick drove into Zane's squelching pussy. Zane was startled, shocked by how quickly she achieved orgasm. Lynn did not stop the hard fucking, though. She kept driving the stick in, pulling it out and driving it in again.

Cracking her left eye open slightly, Zane peered into the mirror; she was face level with the mirror. She saw Lynn and Christine sharing a very passionate kiss. She also saw that Christine had her fingers inside of Lynn's shorts. From the movement, Zane deduced that Christine was fingering Lynn's pussy.

She shut her eyes tightly again as another orgasm racked her small body. When Christine reached under and gave Zane's clitoris a very painful pinch, thumbnail driving into Zane's clitoris, Zane howled out loud then passed out.

Coming to, Zane saw that she was alone, lying on a bathroom floor. However clean the bathroom might be, she did not relish the idea of lying on the cold tiles. Wearily, she got up, pulled her shorts up and fastened them. She then zipped the hoody up. Out of force of habit, Zane washed her hands before leaving the bathroom.

"Hey, you 'bout ready?" one of the rack girls smiled as Zane entered the main room.

"Huh?" Zane asked the scantily clad young woman.

"Yeah, that Lynn girl? Said you live out in Myndee; off Clarkston? I got to go right by there," the girl said, grabbing her purse off of the bar. "Thanks Eddy! Give me a call you need me again, okay?"

"Thanks Sweetie; you done great," Eddy acknowledged, waving to the girl.

"I uh, I don't, my boyfriend ran off with my debit card," Zane admitted when the girl led her to a small car.

"Huh? No, no; it's no problem," the girl assured her. "Hell, Eddy paid me two fifty and a bunch of them guys tipped me too."

Zane winced as she sat on the hot vinyl seat of the car. Sitting brought the crotch of her shorts against her crotch in a very snug, very uncomfortable manner.

"Yeah, sorry; need to get a couple of towels or something; put down on them before putting my butt on them, huh?" the girl laughed, racing out of the parking lot.

Zane gave her the name and address of the apartment complex. The girl knew the apartment complex and raced toward the building. Zane sat quietly; the girl did not notice as she prattled happily.

"See you!" the girl said as she let Zane out in front of the building.

"Yeah, see you," Zane agreed, wobbling up the stairs.

Safely in her apartment again, Zane stripped out of Nicholas's hoody, allowing it to just drop to the floor. She dropped his cue stick bag on top of the hoody. Then she went to her bathroom, piling her hair on top of her head. She drew a nice, steamy bubble bath and lighted a candle. Turning the bathroom light off, she allowed the suds to soothe her.

Replaying the confrontation in the bathroom of Blouchen's Billiards, Zane was shocked to find her left hand pinching and twisting her nipples, her right hand tracing up and down her puffy inner lips. Abruptly, she stopped pleasuring herself. A moment later, she was again pinching her nipples. She gasped out as she dug her well-chewed thumbnail into the tender flesh of her nipple.

"Fuck, I, I wonder, I, no, no, I'm not, I'm not, God damn it," Zane muttered as she pinched her clitoris. "Augh! Oh, oh yes!"

The next morning, Zane turned off her alarm clock. She made a three egg omelet, using up the vegetables before they turned brown. Then, she picked up the hoody and the cue stick.

Since it was just after seven o'clock on a Sunday morning, Zane knew Nicholas would still be sleeping. And, if her guess was correct, he would be hung over as well. Approaching the flimsy door of his apartment, she used the butt of his cue stick to hammer on his door. Then, she looped the handle of the bag over the doorknob, hung the hoody by its hood on the doorknob and marched away.

Zane was nearly to the stop sign before she saw Nicholas open the apartment door. Even in her rearview mirror, she could see just how rough he looked. The hoody had fallen off when he jerked the door open, ready to confront whomever would dare knock so loudly on a Sunday morning. Nicholas bending over to pick the hoody from the ground was Zane's last sight of her former boyfriend.

In her apartment once more, Zane again replayed the bathroom incident in her mind. She caught herself chewing on a fingernail; a bad habit she'd had since childhood. With a grimace, Zane determined to make some changes.

With a smile, she said out loud, "Well dumping loser Nicholas is a good start!"

The nail salon opened its doors at eleven on Sundays. Looking at the deplorable condition of Zane's fingernails, the young Asian girl shook her head and suggested they cap Zane's nails with fake nails. Zane agreed; she was there to make some changes.

"But not too long," Zane cautioned.

"No, no, not too long," the girl agreed.

The four foot tall Asian woman caused Zane to laugh when she declared, "You too short have long nails."

Next door to the nail salon was a small sports store. Nicholas had pointed the store out; he'd bought his now broken cue stick at this establishment. Again, Zane replayed the moment in the bathroom of Blouchen Billiards as she looked in the window of the small establishment. Prior to that moment, Lynn had bent over Zane, had taught Zane how to hold a cue stick, how to strike the ball.

Zane shivered, remembering the feeling of Lynn's heavy breasts pressed against her back in that intimate moment. She shivered, reaching her fingernail up to her mouth to gnaw on her fingernail.

"Changes, Zane, changes," Zane reminded herself just before biting down on the acrylic faux nail.

"Hey there," a bloated old man greeted Zane.

"Hey. I uh, a friend? She was showing me how to play bumper pool?" Zane said. "It was a lot of fun and there's the Cottonbowl Club right across the street where I word and..."

"So, just looking for a good stick, play every now and then?" Pete deduced, smiling at the small woman.

"Yeah. I mean, I really don't want to spend a whole lot; I mean, suppose I suck at it?" Zane agreed.

"Mm hmm; all right. Let's see," Pete said and found a fifty nine dollar cue stick.

He took Zane over to the sole billiards table in the front room. He first had her practicing how to break, racking and re-racking the balls until she was able to scatter the balls with a resounding 'crack!' Then, never touching her, he talked her through the points of taking shots.

"So? What you think?" Pete asked after she sank the eight ball.

"I think if I'd had you teaching me History, I'd done a lot better," Zane stated, clutching her cue stick to her chest.

"Ma'am that, that is one of the biggest compliments I've ever gotten," Pete laughed. "But, the stick. Going get that stick?"

"It's mine," Zane affirmed, finding her Visa charge card.

"Zane, Zane, had some guy come in here yesterday trying buy a Bill Coski; using a card said his name was Zane," Pete said.

"That would have been my ex-boyfriend," Zane said. "Reported my card stolen moment he ran off with it."

Pete nodded his head but still kept a wary eye on the card and the girl. He grunted with satisfaction when the card was accepted. Breaking the cue down, he slid the two pieces into the vinyl carrying case and wished her 'good luck' at her next pool game.

On Monday, Zane worked the lunch shift at Wedges. The restaurant sold deep-fried wedge shaped sandwiches, wedge cut French fries and several other unhealthy fried food items. She was a good waitress and knew how to keep her customers happy and smiling. The uniform had a scoop neck blouse; Zane did not bother with a bra. The pleated skirt was short; Zane did make sure to wear panties.

After work Monday afternoon, Zane went to her car, grabbed her new stick and walked across the street to the Cottonbowl Club. Inside of the dank bar, Zane was assaulted by the smell of stale beer and sweat and aftershave and cheap perfume. She reflected that Blouchen Billiards had not smelled like this.

She showed her ID to a silent pot-bellied man that needed to shave three or four days of gray whiskers from his weathered face. She told the man she was not there to drink, she was there to play pool. With a grunt, he shrugged his shoulders and nodded his assent.

Zane went to the first of three pool tables, fed the quarters into the slot and carefully racked the balls.

"Play you," a sneering middle-aged man said.

"Oh, I, I'm just practicing," Zane said.

"Well, I'll help you practice," the man leered.

He was more swagger and bravado than skill. He did win, but Zane kept up her end of the competition. She fed some more quarters into the table and again she and Jimmy played. Scratching on the eight ball, Jimmy gave Zane her first taste of victory and Zane was thoroughly hooked on the game of billiards.

"See ya, kid," the bartender said his first words as Zane marched to the door of the bar.

"See ya," Zane agreed.

"Hadn't scratched on the eight ball? I'd beaten that kid," Jimmy complained.

"Uh huh. Ready for another one?" the bartender agreed, already reaching for the bottle of Iron Barrel Whiskey.

Friday was an especially good day for tips. Zane raked in one hundred and nine dollars that day and was still quite buoyant went she entered the Cottonbowl Club after her shift ended.

All three tables were in use. Zane put a stack of quarters onto one table, then bought a Barq's Root Beer from the mostly silent bartender.

"Hey, kid; you're up," a bloated man called out.

Zane fed the quarters into the table and racked the balls. The man broke; Zane winced at the rifle shot retort the balls made when the cue ball slammed into the carefully racked balls.

"Would you look at this shit?" the man barked, disgusted when no balls rolled into any pockets.

"Four in the corner," Zane said, bending to take the shot.

"By the way; fifty bucks play this table," Kevin Durrell said, waiting until Zane was just about to shoot.

"What?" Zane squeaked.

"Hey Durrell; you play a fair game with the Kid, huh?" the bartender called out.

"You ever know me not to?" Kevin smirked.

"I'm just saying, make sure you play a fair game with the Kid," the bartender reiterated.

"You got it," Kevin assured the bartender.

Zane was in the zone. Knowing how hard she had worked for her money, she was not about to lose to this bloated buffoon. She called each shot; this was what she had witnessed at Blouchen Billiards and had witnessed when she and Jimmy played. After knocking the four, the two and the seven in, she missed on the five.

"Call your shot," Zane demanded when Kevin bent to take his shot. "It's fifty to play this table? We're not playing Church pool here."

"What?" Kevin snapped.

"Heard me. Call your shots or forfeit the game," Zane demanded.

"Eleven, corner pocket," Kevin snarled.

He hit the cue ball too hard and the eleven ball ricocheted off of the bumper. Zane sank two more balls but scratched on the second ball.

Kevin was much more deliberate on his next two shots, missing the second shot. Zane finished the game, then stood, waiting.

"Double or nothing," Kevin snarled.

"Let me get this right. I win, you pay me one hundred bucks. You win, I walk away, owing you nothing," Zane clarified.

"What double or nothing means," Kevin snapped.

"Show me the hundred," Zane said, sudden realization flooding her consciousness.

"What? Bitch, I got it," Kevin blustered.

"No. That's all right. Let me have my fifty and I'll be on my way," Zane said, breaking down her cue stick.

"Hey Durrell, pay the Kid," the bartender ordered. "Pay the Kid or get out and stay out."

Zane almost had pity on the man. Almost. She knew if she'd lost, he would have had no compassion, would have demanded his money. His sweaty, rumpled twenty, ten, two fives and seven singles joined the other sweaty, rumpled and wrinkled bills in her purse. She declined to take the pocket change from him though.

"Let that be a lesson to you, Durrell," the bartender chuckled as Zane walked to the door. "Don't bet what you can't afford to lose, huh?"

"God damned kid had be cheating," Kevin blustered, trying to save face among his peers.

"Bull shit Durrell," Jimmy called out from another table. "We all stood here and watched her kick your ass."

"Kid didn't even break a sweat," a woman called out, unlit cigarette dangling from her overly painted lips.

"Aw, fuck you, Rhonda," Kevin snarled.

"Fifty bucks," Rhonda shrugged. "Oh. Wait. You don't got fifty bucks; you gave it to that kid."

"Here, baby, I got fifty bucks," another man said, whipping Ulysses S. Grant's portrait from his wallet.

"Ladies room; give me five minutes freshen up," Rhonda said, grabbing the fifty from the man.

At home in her small apartment, Zane relived the thrill of victory. Easing out of her work clothes, Zane masturbated, thinking of the two beauties that had introduced her to the game of billiards.

"And introduced you to..." Zane thought but did not finish the thought before grunting in climax.

--..--

The turnover rate at Wedges was quite high, but with Myndee University nearby, rarely was there a shortage of fresh-faced waitresses. The manager of the restaurant had once stated that Zane was his favorite; she was not in college so did not need concessions when it came to scheduling.

"Gee, would be nice if you paid me like I'm your favorite," Zane grumbled; the manager never said those words again.

Toward the end of March, three waitresses wanted time off in April; Spring Break was coming up. The manager gave them a choice, work or quit. They were all part-time employees so they had no accrued paid time off. All three decided to quit.

Dominique Strickler was one of the new hires. Zane felt her mouth go dry as she looked at the five foot tall blonde with her 28C chest, narrow waist and perfect bubble butt. She usually had her knee length blonde hair in a high ponytail, a few strands of blonde seemed to always work loose then dangle in her narrow face. Constantly, Dominique brushed the strands of whitish blonde hair from her ice blue eyes. From time to time, she would purse her pouting lips to blow the hair from her narrow face. Then she would smile at her own antics.

"Changes, Zane, Changes," Zane whispered to herself as she watched Dominique's lips blow at her hair.

"Saturday's my birthday; what you going get me?" Dominque asked Zane as they waited for their orders to appear in the service window.

"A big old kiss," Zane brave saying.

"Oh yeah?" Dominique asked, grabbing her order before Zane could respond.

"So, how old you going be?" Zane asked the next time they met by the service window.

"Eighteen," Dominique said, country accent coming through loud and clear.

"Where you from?" Zane asked, amused by Dominique's twang.

"Little itty bitty place; bet you ain't never heard of it," Dominique smiled, blowing her hair from her face. "Pembleman."

"Out in the middle of nowhere; my momma's got an uncle lives out there," Zane laughed, hustling to get her order to her table.

On Saturday, Zane gave Dominique a birthday card. She held her breath as Dominique read the card; it was a somewhat romantic card.

"Aw! Thank you," Dominique said, hugging Zane.

"Welcome," Zane said, then had to hurry; three people had sat in her area.

They did not get another opportunity to speak; Wedges was slammed that Saturday. Zane did not know what was happening in the college town of Myndee, but there was a long line of customers. And after her shift finally ended, Zane saw that Dominique was already gone.

Looking at the schedule, Zane saw that she and Dominique were scheduled to work the lunch shift together on Monday. The manager said that Dominique had classes from eight to ten on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Tuesdays and Thursdays, she had classes until three fifteen in the afternoon so would be working the evening shifts, or would be off.

Monday, Zane whispered her new mantra of 'changes, Zane, changes' and entered the restaurant. Spotting Dominique, Zane smiled and smiled a little wider when Dominique returned the smile.

"Changes, Zane, changes," she whispered as they walked the hallway outside of the kitchen from employee break area where the time clock and schedule were situated toward the dining area.

"Hmm?" Dominique asked.

"Oh! Hey, you uh, you asked me what I was going give you for your birthday and I told you a big old kiss," Zane said just as they entered the dining room.

"Uh huh. But you got me that real nice card," Dominique smiled. "Miss Nancy; what section I got?"

It was a busy Monday. Zane kept her eye on Dominique, admiring the way her skirt flounced as she marched. She also smiled every time she caught Dominique blowing the hair out of her eyes.

As their shift ground to a halt, Zane made sure she was right behind Dominque as the girl clocked out. Zane muttered her mantra then grabbed Dominique's hand, preventing the blonde from dashing away.

"Want your birthday present now?" Zane asked, verifying that they were alone in the hallway.

"This some kind April fool joke?" Dominique asked, slightly nervous.

"Huh?" Zane asked, looking into Dominique's beautiful eyes.

"I'm 'bout to scream one more person plays some stupid April fool's joke on me," Dominique groused. "Number one, they ain't funny and..."

Zane softly kissed Dominique's pouting lips. With another look around, Zane again softly kissed Dominique.

"Hey, you know how play pool?" Zane asked.

"So, this ain't no April Fool's..." Dominique asked, hand softly rubbing up and down Zane's arm.

"No; damn, didn't even remember today is April fool's day," Zane admitted. "Know how play pool?"

"Nuh uh," Dominique admitted. "You?"

"Come on. I'll teach you," Zane said, grabbing Dominique's hand and marching to the rear door.

"You, you got your own stick? You some kind of what they call it?" Dominique gasped when Zane got her cue from her car.

The bartender gave Zane a half-smile and grunt when Zane and a real pretty blonde entered the empty bar, hand in hand. Zane grabbed the third pool table; the felt was newer. After racking the balls, Zane ordered two Barq's root beers and took them to where Dominique stood, pondering the selection of cue sticks.

"The ones with the black lines on them are kind of warped," Zane explained, showing Dominique where someone had drawn a black permanent marker stripe around the middle of a few of the sticks.

Helping Dominique to select a cue stick, Zane then grabbed the girl from behind. Just as Lynn had done to her, Zane pressed herself against the back of the girl, bending her over and showing her the proper way to hold the stick.

"And you..." Zane husked into Dominique's ear as she showed Dominique the proper way to strike the cue ball.

"I think, I think I like pool," Dominique whispered, gently rubbing her backside against Zane.

"I love it," Zane whispered before finally straightening again.

As was to be expected, Dominique lost the three games. They left when Kevin Durrell entered and immediately demanded a rematch with Zane.

"It's a hundred to play this table," Zane said, showing Kevin a wad of bills. "No? Didn't think so."

"Zane, you that good?" Dominique goggled as they stepped out into the late twilight.

"No," Zane giggled. "But he's that bad."

"You uh, um, there's that Frank's right there by my dorm," Dominique suggested when they reached Zane's car.

"Or you could come on over. You like Chinese?" Zane offered, pulling Dominique close. "Order up some Buddha's Palace? Then..."

"I need get my books. Oh! Oh, and some clothes for tomorrow," Dominique said, searching Zane's eyes.

"Your car here?" Zane asked.

"NO, no, my dorm's only couple blocks that way," Dominique said, pointing.

Zane drove Dominique to the dorm building. She sat and waited in her car, fidgeting nervously. Suppose Dominique changed her mind? Suppose the girl changed her mind, then went to Wedges and told everyone all about her coming on to another girl?

"I hate, I mean, I do really hate my roommate, you hear? Girl is just nasty," Dominique said, getting into the car.

Dominique liked Zane's apartment; lavishing praise on Zane's taste in furniture. Zane admitted she'd bought all of it on credit; Roselawn's Furniture store even gave a ten percent discount if you applied for their credit card.

"That's how I got my credit score up," Zane said, finding the on-line menu for Buddha's Palace.

Cuddling together on the couch, the two selected their dinner. They continued to cuddle while Zane placed the order, using the on-line app. Then as soon as Zane hit 'Check-Out' they shared their first kiss as girlfriends.

"Okay, you serious?" this ain't no April Fool's joke?" Dominique gasped as Zane's hands went to her breasts.

"How many times I got tell you? This ain't no April fool's joke," Zane insisted, sucking another kiss from Dominique's pretty lips.

The delivery person heard squeals from inside of the apartment when he knocked on the door. He was very pleasantly surprised when a beautiful brunette answered the door, dressed only in short pull over shirt and very skimpy panties. With a smile, he accepted the three twenty dollar bills and nodded his thanks as the girl told him to keep the change.

"Can think of something else I'd rather have as a tip," he thought, looking at her sweet ass when she turned to close the door.

"New rule," Dominique giggled, flinging the throw from her nude body.

"New rule?" Zane asked, eyes drinking in the sight of Dominique's beautiful body.

"No clothes at the dinner table," Dominique ordered, skipping over to the table.

"Okay!" Zane giggled, stripping out of her clothes.

"And next time? You got to answer the door like that," Dominique decided.

"No way!" Zane squealed, grabbing some plates from the kitchen.

"Bet he'd forget to charge us," Dominique giggled.

They ate, chattering happily, teasing one another. They shared from each other's plates, approving of each other's choices. Then, as Zane put the dishes into the dishwasher, Dominique wiped the table clean.

Zane pulled an unresisting Dominque to her bedroom. A solitary lamp glowed, keeping the bedroom in semi-darkness. Falling across the bed, Zane landed on top of Dominique and pressed her mouth to Dominique's laughing mouth. Lying on top of Dominique, Zane ran her hand over Dominique's breasts, using her fingernails to lightly pinch Dominique's hard nipples.

Her fingernails were growing in nicely. The faux nails had fallen off; apparently the adhesive was not very strong. But Zane had been bound and determined; she would not bite her nails. She kept telling herself, 'Changes, Zane, changes' and had been adhering to that ideal.

"Oh!" Dominique whispered as Zane teased her nipples.

"Oh?" Zane teased, then bent her head and sucked on Dominique's left nipple.

"OH!" Dominique affirmed, shivering.

"Oh," Zane whispered, sucking on the other nipple while pinching and twisting Dominique's spittle wet nipple.

"Augh!" Dominique grunted as Zane's fingernail dug into the tender nub.

"Too hard?" Zane worried.

"Harder," Dominique groaned. "I, I like them... Augh, hard."

After cruelly pinching and tugging on Dominique's nipples for a few minutes, Zane kissed her way down Dominique's heaving belly. She could smell Dominique's arousal as she approached the tuft of blonde curls between Dominique's legs.

Sliding off of the bed, Zane knelt between Dominique's splayed legs. Placing the girl's thighs on her shoulders, Zane brought her hands between Dominique's thighs, gently raking her fingernails over Dominique's soft flesh. This caused the blonde to giggle and twitch.

Then Zane used her thumbs to open Dominique's sex. Leaning forward, Zane breathed deeply of Dominique's aroma. Eagerly, she reached her tongue out and took her first taste of another woman's sex.

"Oh God!" Dominique groaned at the intimate contact.

"Yyeess!" Zane moaned, delving her tongue deeper into Dominique's wet folds.

Finding no hymen, Zane thrust two fingers into Dominique. She located Dominique's clitoris and sucked the nub into her mouth. Curling her fingers, Zane sought out Dominque's g-spot. When she did find the treasure, she gently rubbed while sucking more and more forcefully on Dominique's clitoris.

"I, oh, augh, I, oh dear God!" Dominque gasped, grunted, then shrieked, coating Zane's face with her ejaculate.

After her third powerful orgasm, Dominique babbled for Zane to please stop, please have mercy. The beautiful blonde lay limply on the edge of the bed, legs dangling over the edge.

"Where, where on God's earth did you learn that?" Dominque asked weakly as Zane softly, gently sponged Dominque's sweating face.

"Looked it up," Zane giggled. "I was looking at some billiards videos then thought of looking up some lesbian stuff."

"Great, just great," Dominique mock complained. "Like I don't already have enough stuff to study? Now I got to look that stuff up too?"

"But, but did you like it?" Zane whispered, nuzzling Dominique's throat, pressing her nude body against Dominique's nude body.

"I, I loved it," Dominique admitted.

Dominique did not really need to study lesbianism. She seemed to be a natural as they swung into a side by side sixty nine. Each girl tried to lick, finger and suck the other girl to orgasm first. Zane shivered as she felt Dominique's hair tracing along her upper thighs, felt Dominique's breath against her wet lips, then felt that first swipe of a hesitant, uncertain tongue.

Putting out of her mind as best as possible the euphoric feelings of her lover's tongue and fingers on her six, Zane managed to satisfy Dominique a split-second before her own orgasm crested. The feelings of bliss were overwhelming; Zane felt it all deep within her belly.

"I, I'm exhausted," Dominique admitted a moment later.

"Then let's go to sleep," Zane suggested, pulling the corner of the fluffy comforter back.

The few times Zane had spent the night with Nicholas, they had made love, only for him to roll away the moment he ejaculated. The one and only time she'd attempted to spoon with him, he had angrily declared that she was making him too hot to sleep.

If Dominique and Zane had become any more entwined with one another, they would have passed through one another.

"I didn't brush my teeth," Zane thought as sleep came quickly.

"Damn! Neither did she," Zane thought, waking up the following morning.

"Need to let me go; I got to pee," Dominique whispered, softly kissing Zane's lips before throwing out, "Miss Morning Breath."

"Room to talk," Zane giggled, realizing it had been Dominique's soft whispers and kisses that had roused her from her sleep.

Wiggling backward, working her arms and legs free from Dominique's petite frame, Zane then assisted the girl from her bed. In the semi-darkness, Zane was struck by the girl's simple beauty, even as her hair was tousled, her eyes heavy from sleep.

Nicholas had always looked haggard, rough in the morning. And, Nicholas had always mocked Zane for her morning appearance, saying she looked like a dog had chewed on her during the night.

"God, you, you're beautiful in the morning," Dominique whispered before dashing to the bathroom.

"What a country girl," Zane thought as Dominique did not close the bathroom door, just flopped down onto the toilet.

Nicholas had not afforded her any privacy. Zane realized he'd had a perverse curiosity about female urination and...

"You know what? He, he ain't a part of your life no more," Zane thought as she began to fill the basket with coffee grounds. "So, quit worrying 'bout him."

"Hey," Dominique whispered, coming up behind Zane and softly kissing Zane's bare shoulder.

"Hey," Zane whispered, twisting to kiss Dominique's lips. "Let me go tinkle and..."

After urinating, Zane brushed her teeth. She smiled, seeing Dominique's wet toothbrush on the lip of the vanity. Stepping out of the bathroom, Zane was pulled back into bed. Once more, the two girls entwined their limbs about one another, kissing softly.

"I need to pee," Zane heard and was once again roused from a deep, satisfying slumber.

"And I'm starving," Zane realized as she wiggled backward to disentangle their limbs.

"Oh God! Me too!" Dominique realized.

--..--

Dominique moved in that night. The manager of Zane's apartment complex shrugged her shoulders as Zane added Dominique to her lease; as long as the rent was paid, she really didn't care who paid it. Hell, the girl in the corner apartment had no less than three men paying her rent for her.

The manager of the Wedges made a mistake the following week; Zane had no hours at all. When Zane confronted him, he realized he'd meant to schedule Zoe for vacation time, not Zane. But that momentary scare was enough for Zane to make another of her changes.

"I'm his most reliable waitress. I bust my ass every shift," Zane told Dominique. "But really? Wasn't for tips? I'd be living in a cardboard box somewhere."

"I can't afford look for nothing else," Dominique said. "Least he's willing schedule me around classes."

"Changes," Zane said aloud, causing Dominique to smile.

"And I'm one them changes," she said just before the door of the restaurant was unlocked.

"That's right," Zane agreed, quickly squeezing Dominique in a one-armed hug.

Even though the manager did correct his mistake, Zane sat down with all of her pay stubs arranged in order. She also looked over her bank statement on-line, paying careful attention to income and expenditures. Once more, Dominique offered to chip in more money to pay for utilities or rent.

"Food is plenty," Zane smiled, looking up from her work.

"Zane, I only pay half the food," Dominique argued.

"You only eat half the food," Zane retorted.

"You are so retarded," Dominique said, her country accent taking much of the sting out of her words.

After making the determination that she needed a different job if she would manage her money a little better, Zane looked at the local listings. Unfortunately, for a young lady that barely graduated high school, the options were fairly limited.

"Damn, lot of dancers' jobs, huh?" Dominique asked.

"There is no way I would ever..." Zane began.

"Changes," Dominique said. "I'm going try that browning bag chuck; okay?"

"Ha! It's already marinating," Zane crowed happily.

"You're right," Zane said as they ate the meal.

"I know," Dominique said smugly, then thought for a moment. "Right about what?"

"Changes. We going get anywhere, we need to make changes," Zane said. "This cauliflower rice? Not a fan."

"Oh thank God; I can't stand it," Dominique agreed.

Because it was a private club, Hunter's Cabin displayed full nudity. Clarkston County had ordinances prohibiting the display of pubic hair and areolae but Hunter's Cabin only allowed those that possessed a Hunter's License to enter.

Besides having very attractive young women dancing, Hunter's Cabin also had some of the best pulled pork, beef brisket, or hamburgers out there. His baked beans were legendary, as was his potato salad. The Gratchely's draft was ice cold and the cocktails were expertly made.

"You're hired," Hunter himself said when a very nervous Zane entered the nightclub through the rear door.

"Wha-what?" Zane asked. "You, you don't even know if..."

"Don't matter, the handsome young man smiled, checking the slowly simmering barbeque sauce. "Told you to be here at ten. It is now nine fifty. Told you to use the rear door; you would be surprised how many girls stand out there and bang on the front door. You're hired."

Zane filled out the simple application form. As she scribbled, she and Hunter talked. He smiled and nodded that she certainly could give her current employer two weeks' notice but if the current employer objected, he'd be happy to let her start earlier.

The manager squawked, blustered, promised, then angrily fired Zane. Her smile irritated him but there was nothing he could do that had not already been done.

Her first night, Hunter had Zane serve the customers. Dressed in crop top that displayed the Hunter's Cabin logo and low-rider camouflage shorts that left much of her rear end exposed, Zane managed very nicely. While she worked, she also observed the dancers. She had to smile; much of it was not truly dancing.

"But damn; they don't never stop, do they?" Zane observed as three dancers went into the Deer Stands while one dancer came off the stage just in time for another dancer to come onto the stage.

"Nope. And if they do? Well, there's the door," Swan, one of the dancers smiled as she did double-duty as a waitress. "Come on, Hunter; three brisket sammiches, huh?"

"Sammiches? God, would think you from Lowenburg or something," Hunter teased, placing the three plates onto her tray.

"I is," the strawberry blonde girl laughed, hustling to the table where three men waited.

"SO? How'd you do?" a very sleepy Dominique asked when an exhausted Zane entered the apartment.

"Three hundred and forty bucks," Zane declared. "But Sweetheart, you, you didn't have to wait up for me."

"Can't sleep without you," Dominique admitted. "But, whew! Go take a shower, huh? Smell like a smokehouse."

"Get used to it," Zane laughed, skipping to the bathroom.

Her first night dancing, Zane was amazed at her take. In just a few hours of strutting around, she earned almost two weeks' salary as her previous job. True, it had been a little disconcerting, removing her clothing in front of a room of strange men and a few women. Thankfully, the lights obscured many of their faces and the music drowned out any comments.

And backstage, the two dancers that waited their turns were very encouraging. Hurrying to pull on camouflage shorts and half shirt to assist as waitress, Zane was told she had a customer in Deer Stand 2.

"God, just love them itty bitty titties," the well-dressed businessman said, ogling Zane's body. "In high school? My girlfriend? Wore a twenty eight bra..."

When Dominique heard how much Zane had earned, she threatened to quit Wedges and come to work at Hunger's Cabin. Zane threatened a severe spanking AND would tell Dominique's parents if Dominique ever said such foolish things ever again.

Her next full day not scheduled, Zane again looked at her finances. The previous day, one of the older tellers at her bank demanded to know where Zane was getting all of the money all of a sudden. Quietly, but firmly, Zane asked to see the woman's supervisor.

The manager did apologize for the teller's rude behavior and concluded the deposit for Zane. She then became perturbed when Zane insisted on a paper receipt.

"It's available on-line," the manager said.

"Ma'am, that's cash. Your computer goes down and wipes that out? I have no way of proving I made that deposit unless I have paper in hand," Zane said.

But that confrontation and the less-than stellar service she'd received told Zane she should look for other means to save and to grow her money.

She made an appointment with Russell Ubelhauser and started an investment portfolio with the Ubelhauser firm. The handsome blond man did not bat an eyelash when Zane disclosed the source of her income.

"You are providing a service," he opined. "And, apparently, people are willing to pay for that service. It is perfectly legal, even in the Bible Belt of Arkansas."

She also opened a second investment account with Jack Thompson. The man had hit a few poorly performing investments but Zane was astute enough to recognize the value of having a broker that was willing to take risks. And, anyone can have a bad day.

"Hunter's Cabin," Jack smiled, drawing out each syllable. "Damn but they have an unbelievably good hamburger, don't they?"

"Haven't tried it yet," Zane admitted. "His pulled pork is just too good."

"Yes it is; and, he ain't shy with the meat is he?" Jack agreed.

One third of each day's take continued to go to her checking account. One third when into her Ubelhauser account. The last third went into her Thompson Holdings account. Over a few months, Zane was building an impressive portfolio. She even recommended both investment firms to other dancers. Zane was shocked at how many of these women simply handed their day's earnings over to their boyfriends.

"Yeah? Why ain't you handing your money over to me?" Dominique demanded, as she kissed and nibbled on Zane's small breasts.

"It's our money, Sweetheart," Zane whispered, stroking her fingers in and out of Dominique's wet folds.

"It was kind of risky," Jack called her one morning. "But there's a furniture store in Jack's Creek, Louisiana that needed capital to expand their business. So, your ten is now forty thousand."

"I, my what?" Zane asked, still groggy from a very late night.

"Oh God, did, did I wake you?" Jack apologized.

"Wide awake now," Zane stated. "Let me see. Jack, Jack, had, is that right? Had twelve, now have... Thank you Mr. Thompson."

Zane authorized another five thousand to a company in a small Ohio town that had gone from manufacturing replacement windows of polymer to making personal pleasure devices. Within a month, that five thousand had quadrupled.

"Hey," the apartment manager said when their paths crossed in the laundry room. "Listen, sign up for another year? Rent will stay the same. Six months and it'll go up fifty a month."

"Thanks," Zane said, transferring her clothing from washing machine to dryer.

"You know, every month? In Pembleman they do some kind of auction," Dominique said when she got home from another shift at Wedges. "Sell houses been foreclosed on. I swear; the new assistant manager? Girl don't know nothing!"

Both Russel and Jack echoed what with Dominique had said; on the first Tuesday of every month, on the courthouse steps of Clarkston County, the county auctioned off foreclosed homes. And both Russel and Jack encouraged Zane to buy; she was getting no return on her investment of renting an apartment.

The first Tuesday, Zane and Dominique showed up, briefcase holding thirty thousand dollars. But every house they tried to buy, others out-bid them. The same thing happened the next first Tuesday of the month. Each property they attempted to buy, they were out-bid.

"Hey girls," an older man said, approaching them after the third Tuesday of failing. "What's going on? Minute it gets to thirty thousand, y'all quit. Even when it's a house y'all really want, y'all just quit."

"That, that's all we have," Zane groused.

She actually had much more, but with Russel and Jack's assistance, Zane had determined she would spend no more than three years' rent on her current apartment. Hence, the thirty thousand dollar evaluation.

On the fourth Tuesday Zane showed up alone; Dominique was taking a test she could not miss. Looking at the listings on her phone, Zane decided she'd bid on 1215 Myrtle Place. And if she failed to get that home, she would bid on 103 Cottonwood Road. And if that failed to happen...

"First up, twelve fifteen Myrtle Place," the auctioneer called out. "That's one two one five..."

"Ten thousand," Zane called out.

"Wenty nine five," another man called out.

"Percy..." a harsh voice warned.

"What Coleman, huh? Twenty nine five. What's the big deal, huh?" Percy Collins snapped.

"Thirty thousand," Zane said, holding her breath.

"I, I got it? I got it?" Zane gasped when Percy did not up the ante. "I got it!"

Most of the men chuckled at the cute little girl's enthusiasm. As Zane hurried to pay for her purchase before Percy or anyone else could change their mind, the auctioneer called out another property.

Clean-up was a herculean task; the evicted renters had not taken their eviction well. Zane did what she could, which admittedly was not much. The rest, she hired contractors to do the repairs. After five weeks, she let the apartment manager know she would be vacating the apartment.

New paint, new carpet, new bathroom fixtures, and new furniture, their home was beautiful. A brand new hot tub purchased from Caldwell's Pools & Spas sat on their back porch, waiting to be filled and used. Another contractor came out and built a privacy wall around three quarters of the tub and also installed a doorway from master bedroom that let out into the small alcove where the tub sat.

"Perfect for making love," Zane whispered, kissing Dominique. "And when it gets too cold out here? Can just run inside, right to the bed."

"I can't believe this is all ours," Dominique whispered, still in awe.

"It's all ours," Zane agreed, hugging her girlfriend.

The second Sunday after moving into the home, they threw a small Housewarming Party. Of the men that worked at Hunter's Cabin, Patrick Fowler was the only one to show up. A few of the dancers did show up; three had their boyfriends with them.

"Hang on, hang on," Corinne, who danced under the name Jewel looked around. "You telling me you bought all this? Dancing?"

"Yeah," Zane agreed. "I mean, I had some help; remember I told you about Ubelhauser Investments, right?"

Brent, Corinne's boyfriend suddenly found the billiards table in the middle of the living room to be of extreme interest. Loudly, he proclaimed, one hundred bucks, he'd beat anyone.

"Hundred, uh? Boy, that's MY hundred bucks," Corinne snarled.

"Shit baby, I got this. I'm a natural at pool," Brent assured her, smiling his most confident smile.

"Better not lose, all I'm saying," Corinne muttered as Zane racked the balls.

Zane magnanimously let Brent break. He managed to have the 13 ball roll into a corner pocket but was unable to make a second shot. Stepping up, Zane then ran the table.

She did not keep the five twenties a crestfallen Brent surrendered to her. Instead, she took a paper clip and fastened one of Russel Ubelhauser's business cards to the five bills before handing them over to Corinne.

Patrick wagered a crisp new Benjamin; again Zane allowed him to break. He did not manage to sink anything on the break, and smiled good-naturedly as Zane again ran the table. Gertrude/Cinnamon's boyfriend then decided he'd try to win Zane's money. Gertie got her hundred dollars back with Jack Thompson's business card pinned to the weathered bill. The third boyfriend and the mannish looking girlfriend of the two remaining dancers were smart enough to keep their money in their pockets and their mouths firmly shut.

The two waitresses and the assistant manager from Wedges also tried their luck at the billiards table but none dared to wager any money. Dominique took Zane's place at the billiards table as Zane took over duties of serving their guest finger foods.

"That was fun," Dominique smiled happily as the last guest departed their home.

"Come on; winner gets to eat the loser right here on the table," Zane smiled, racking the balls.

"Prepare for defeat," Dominique laughed, grabbing her new cue stick.

"Prepare to spread 'em," Zane smiled, letting Dominique break.

--..--

One hundred and nineteen people signed up for the tournament. Nicholas Cohen had once again signed up and was loudly proclaiming he would be taking home the thousand dollar prize. His girlfriend, a petite Asian-American girl giggled and cooed and agreed that her Nicholas was very skilled at billiards.

Nicholas was not the only one braying and posturing. But the nine women that had signed up stood, silently waiting to be called to a table.

"Helmont, Campbell, table one," Eddy Jones called out.

Zane almost laughed at the stricken look the two women wore. Once again, Lynn Helmont was dressed in severe denim cutoffs and patent leather vest. Christine was dressed in white lace corset and short black pleated skirt. The garters of her thigh high stockings were visible as she strolled around the large building.

"Aaronson, Cohen," Eddy called out after drawing two more names from the bucket. "Table two."

Zane approached the table, carrying her Bill Coski case. She did not acknowledge the stunned Nicholas Cohen as she calmly took her cue from the hard case. Then, she twirled the two halves in her hands like batons before assembling the cue stick and placing the case underneath the table. She turned and nodded to her former boyfriend.

"Whatever. Think those stupid tricks are going impress anyone?" Nicholas finally sneered as he unzipped his vinyl case and assembled his own stick.

They lagged to see who would break and Zane won. The entire time, she was silent; cool, calm and collected. The only time she spoke was to call out her shots.

"God damned fucking cunt!" Nicholas screamed in rage when he did not get a single shot.

An off-duty police officer grabbed Nicholas before he could strike the still silent Zane. For that stunt, Nicholas earned a lifetime ban from Blouchen Billiards. He stormed out angrily snarling threats at anyone who dared to mock him. His girlfriend unfortunately happened to be in the bathroom at the time of Nicholas's banishment and departure so did not discover she'd been abandoned until Nicholas had raced out of the parking lot.

Still silent, Zane put her cue into the case, then encouraged Dominique as the girl played a sweating Kevin Durrell.

Dominique did not run the table, scratching on the eleven ball. Kevin managed to sink two balls before scratching. Dominique then finished the game. Kevin stormed out, protesting his loss.

A subdued Christine Campbell sat at a table while Lynn cornered Delilah, Nicolas's abandoned girlfriend. Lynn even offered to teach the upset girl how to play snooker while they waited for Lynn to be called to play again.

Zane ran the tables on her next five opponents. Dominique was eliminated after her fourth game. Zane managed to eliminate the smirking man that had defeated her girlfriend in the very next game.

"Okay, go grab that girl and see if she wants nachos or a burger," Zane said, giving Dominique some money while Lynn was busy on a table.

Christine did not make any moves to stop Dominique as Dominique spirited Lynn's next intended victim away. She was still brooding over the nonchalant manner in which Lynn had defeated her in the very first round.

"And then there were fifty," Eddy called out after a few hours had elapsed.

"She works at Frankly Franks," Dominique disclosed as Zane brought her burger to the table where Dominique and Delilah were polishing off their own burgers.

"Know what they make hot dogs out of?" Zane teased.

"No! And I don't want to know!" Delilah giggled happily.

Zane smiled, reflecting on her previous situation. Abandoned by Nicholas, left to the whims of two devious lesbians, her life had been altered on that day.

"Changes, Zane, Changes," Zane said, chomping on her burger.

She was in the first group of players called to the table. The rack girl smiled a sassy smile and Zane returned the girl's smile. While waiting, Zane again practiced her baton skills with the two halves of her cue.

"Damn, sure do hate beating pretty little girls," the biker sneered, his oafish grin revealing rotted teeth.

"How sweet," Zane said, smiling sweetly and fluttering her eyelashes.

Her smile did the trick. He did not win the lag; Zane broke. She then ran the table. Her last shot, she called the three ball into the side pocket and the eight ball into the corner pocket

"Hang on, hang on," Birdie called out, balding head slick with sweat. "Eddy, come see!"

Eddy walked over, already rolling his eyes. Birdie was a sore loser, a complainer. He wondered what problem the man had dreamed up this time.

"All right, she called two balls off one shot," Birdie explained. "But say she misses one. That mean I get shoot next?"

"Call it again?" Eddy asked.

"Three in the side, eight in the corner," Zane said, using her finger to indicate which holes she was talking about.

"Honey, you sure?" Eddy asked, looking at the table.

In answer, Zane struck the three and it sank into the side pocket. The cue ball continued on a slightly altered trajectory and knocked the eight ball into the corner pocket.

"Yeah, Birdie, she'd missed either one of them? I'd let you take over," Eddy smirked.

The pairing Zane had hoped for finally came. She was given table nine, facing off against Lynn Helmont. Lynn gave no indication that she recognized Zane Aaronson. Zane mused; Lynn and Chris must have done performed their seduction of many girls over the years. To them, Zane had been just one more cute, vulnerable girl that they'd could use for their own twisted fun.

Lynn won the right to break and Zane held her breath. The rack girl did her job and walked away, delectable rear end jiggling slightly.

"Mother fucker!" Lynn shrieked as she managed to drop the ten and the twelve ball, as well as scratching.

She complained that the rack girl must have racked inappropriately. Eddy pointed out that the four girls had all been shown the proper way to rack. And, so far, all four of the girls had racked several times with no complaints. He walked away, the situation resolved as far as he was concerned.

"Three in the corner," Zane called out.

"Come on, let's go," Christine demanded when Zane eliminated Lynn from the competition.

"Fuck you," Lynn spat, flinging Christine's hand from her arm. "Eddy! Best two out of three?"

"Fine with me. Beating you once was fun; beating you twice will be twice as nice," Zane smirked.

"Fine. Two out of three," Eddy said, rolling his eyes at the older woman's antics.

Adrenaline caused Lynn to gouge the felt covering the surface of the table. They had to wait for another table to become available for their second match. While Lynn seethed, Zane stood quietly, watching and waiting.

"And because you ruined the table, she gets to break," Eddy declared when table ten was available.

"Got a hundred says Zane wins," Dominique called out.

Zane smiled, shaking her head at Dominique's enthusiasm. Three men decided they'd take those odds, putting up their own bills.

With steely calm, Zane took all of the low balls off the table, finally setting her sights on the eight ball. She called the side pocket, causing Lynn to smirk. The eight ball was resting against the bumper half way between the corner and the side pocket.

Zane struck the cue ball gently. The ball ricocheted off the far bumper and lazily rolled to where the eight ball sat. The cue ball kissed the eight, sending it on its way to the side pocket.

"Like I said, twice as nice," Zane smirked when the ball dropped.

"Ready now?" Christine demanded, not reaching to touch the red-faced Lynn.

"You fucking bitch," Lynn hissed hatefully.

"You sore loser," Zane hissed, mocking Lynn.

"Helmont, don't," Eddy warned before Lynn could advance on the smirking Zane. "Don't make me ban you from here."

Zane lost the very next game; she never got a shot. The seventy year old man wiped his filthy glasses and smiled as Zane congratulated him on a very skillful game.

"Thanks, kid," the old man said. "Bill Coski was the one taught me."

"Wish I could have met him," Zane said, shaking the man's hand.

"Ready, Sweetheart?" Dominique asked softly.

"Yeah. We taking Delilah home?" Zane asked, breaking her cue stick down and putting it into the case.

"I live right there; those apartments behind the Burns grocery store on Halliwell," Delilah offered.

"With the real big orange water tower by it?" Zane verified as they stepped out into the late afternoon.

"Sorry you didn't win," Dominique whispered.

"What? Sweetheart, I did win," Zane assured her girlfriend, slamming the lid of the trunk closed.

"What?" Dominique asked, gasping as the heated air of the car rushed out of the open doors.

"I beat my old boyfriend. Then I beat Lynn," Zane said, getting into the car.

"And, more importantly, I kept the two bitches from getting their hands on..." Zane continued and jerked her thumb toward the small Asian-American girl in the rear seat.

"Oh! Dominique? She says you're a dancer?" Delilah chirped from the rear seat.

"That's right," Zane agreed. "Hunter's Cabin."

"I, it, is it hard?" Delilah asked. "I mean, I'm working the shittiest hours at that hot dog place; twenty one hours last week. You believe that? How am I supposed pay rent when he's only giving me twenty one hours?"

"Physically? It's not hard. Strenuous maybe but not hard. Emotionally? Well, that depends on you," Zane admitted.

A quick phone call to Hunter earned Delilah an interview. Zane smirked when Hunter told Delilah to show up Monday morning at ten, come in through the rear door.

Delilah kissed Zane and Dominique on their cheeks before scrambling out of the car. Zane and Dominique watched as she scampered up the three sets of stairs to her fourth floor apartment. When the girl entered her apartment, Zane backed out of the parking lot.

Once again in their home, Zane and Dominique shrugged out of their sweat pants and tee shirts. Unlike Lynn and Christine, the two girls had dressed to be comfortable, not alluring. Zane had toyed briefly with the idea of dressing in a provocative manner; her work at Hunter's Cabin had pretty much made her immune to shyness. At the last minute, she'd opted for comfort instead.

"Oh God! This is sooo good!" Dominique sighed, settling into the foaming water.

"Oh, heaven, heaven, heaven," Zane sighed, reclining in the lounger, jets pummeling her shoulders and lower back.

The jets died after ten minutes and Dominique set them to run again. Lazily, Zane floated to where Dominique reclined. She put her hands underneath the bubbling waters and caressed Dominique's breasts while they kissed. After a moment of playing with Dominique's pierced nipples, Zane dipped her hand further down, seeking Dominique's pierced clitoris.

Zane kept Dominique on the verge of climax. Just as the jets again died, she allowed Dominique to cry out in pleasure. Zane's mouth over Dominique's mouth stifled the sound of her climax; they did not want the little pervert that lived at 1217 Myrtle Place peeking over the privacy fence.

Zane and a still shaky Dominique clambered out of the tub and scampered into the house. Both gasped out as the chilled air inside of their home greeted them.

In their shower, they rinsed themselves clean of the hot tub's chemicals. Then, as the hot water beat down on them, Zane pulled Dominique to lie on the shower's floor. They swung into a side by side sixty nine as the four showerheads pelted them.

Waterlogged and happy, the two toweled each other dry, then

Zane was almost asleep when Dominique wiggled her small hand between then and placed her hand onto Zane's belly. Sleepily, Zane wiggled her hand down to grasp Dominique's hand.

"You ever, you ever think we might have a baby? Someday?" Dominique whispered.

Zane was suddenly wide awake. She gripped Dominique's hand very tightly, trying to see Dominique's face in the darkness.

"How, how far along are you?" Zane accused.

Dominique's silence was all the confirmation Zane needed. Flinging her hand away, Zane disentangled her limbs from Dominique and rolled away from the blonde. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared into the darkness.

Sunday's silence stretched out; the only sound being Zane's practicing trick shots on her billiard table. Around four o'clock, Dominique announced that she was starving and began preparing leftovers. She called Zane to the table and Zane let out an audible sigh of irritation. She put her cue into the case and joined Dominique at the small kitchen table.

"It was when I went home for Christmas," Dominique whispered as they ate.

"I don't care," Zane snapped.

"Egg nog. You know I can't say no to egg nog and my dad just loads it up with rum," Dominique continued.

"I said I don't care. I don't care when or how or why," Zane shrilled, slamming her fork onto the table.

"I was drunk!" Dominique screamed. "All right? I was drunk!"

"And that just makes it all better?" Zane screamed, storming away from the table.

She slammed and locked the door of the bedroom. Laying down on the bed, Zane smelled Dominique. She smelled Dominique's perfume clinging to the bedspread and pillow case and blanket. For Christmas, Dominique's mother had given her daughter a bottle of Opium and the scent clung to the bedding.

Unlocking the door, Zane dragged the bedspread down the hall to the laundry room. Then she marched back to the bedroom and began putting Dominique's clothing into the fourth bedroom, the bedroom furthest away from the main bedroom. Hunger forced her to stop and finish her now cold supper. Then she continued moving Dominique out of her bedroom and bathroom.

Delilah did come in for an interview; Hunter gave Zane a crisp Benjamin for recommending the girl. The petite Asian -American girl danced under the name Candi; she was oh so sweet.

"Everyone here says you are so smart," Delilah said one evening as she prepared to go onto the stage.

"Oh! Well, that's so sweet of them," Zane said, wiggling into her Hunter's Cabin half-shirt.

"When it comes to money, you're the best," Delilah continued double checking her costume.

Candi was quickly becoming a favorite. She looked innocent; she favored school girl outfits. But when the music started, she was animalistic in her movements. She rarely did duty as a server; the Deer Stands kept her pretty busy.

"I'll give you some business cards before you leave out of here," Zane promised as Patrick called for Candi.

"Hey, Leather Girl," Soleil called out, sticking her head into the back. "Deer stand two."

"Be right there," Zane smirked, hurrying to put her leather costume on again.

As promised, Zane gave Delilah the business cards of Russel Ubelhauser and Jack Thompson. Just as she had done from their first meeting, Delilah kissed Zane on the cheek, then scampered to her car. Helena, another dancer yawned, shaking her head.

"Two o'clock in the morning; ought to be against the law to have that much energy," Helena mumbled.

Zane wearily drove home. Just as Hunter, Buddy and Patrick had advised, she did not take a direct route home. She even drove past her home heading north. Then, she doubled back and pressed the button for the garage door.

She was bone-tired; it had been a long night. Two dancers had called in sick which left the floor short of two servers and the stage short of two dancers. Her vest bulged with cash, though.

Opening the door from garage to kitchen, Zane was instantly awake. There was a horrifying, cloying scent of burned plastic and other matter. Even as her hand shot out for the light switch, Zane's eyes swept the interior, looking for any flame.

The kitchen did not show any sign of fire; Zane even checked the ceiling above the stove.

Turning on the light to the living room, Zane discovered the source of the odor. Her billiards table had been torched. In the middle of the table lay what was left of her Bill Coski cue stick and carrying case. The surface of the table had been struck repeatedly by a hammer or some other instrument; there were cracks all through the surface. And all the billiard balls were severely chipped or cracked.

Calling out for Dominique, Zane marched to the fourth bedroom.

The bed did not have her pillow on it. Her clothes were gone. The toiletries were gone from the hall bathroom.

And on her pillow Zane discovered a scrap of paper. Zane growled when she smelled the unmistakable scent of Opium perfume on the paper.

'I'm sorry. I love you'

"I, I love you too," Zane whispered.

"But you sure got a funny way of showing it," Zane yelled, thinking of her ruined billiards table.

She paid to have the old table carted away. What the two Latino men planned to do with the damaged table was none of her concern. She then found a used billiards table on-line and purchased it. She smirked when she had the two same men and their pickup truck fetch the new table for her; the felt was a pastel pink and the billiards balls were adorned with flowers. Each ball had its own floral design.

Pete Helmont was more than happy to sell the girl a new Bill Coski stick. Seeing the man's last name, Zane did make the connection; he was either father to or uncle of Lynn Helmont. But, she did not ask.

The next month dragged by. Zane went on a few dates but none of them panned out. When one girl found out what Zane did for a living, the young woman was outraged.

"How, that, that just objectifies women," she hissed, incensed. "And you do that?"

"Women will be objectified whether I dance or not," Zane said, wishing Annette Cueller would lower her voice.

"But you, you're contributing to the denigration of women everywhere," Annette shrilled.

"Well, we can't all be housecleaners," Zane snapped. "OH! Wait! Isn't that what men have been saying for years? That women are only good for cooking and cleaning and having babies?"

"It's honest work," Annette hissed.

"So is providing entertainment. And again, women will be objectified, will be demeaned. Just look at Muslim countries. Women don't dance in Lebanon, but they're still objectified. They're still relegated to second class citizenship. Is it right? No. But am I going to say 'no' to make a few bucks from it?" Zane stated.

"Women like you are the problem," Annette shrilled, storming out of the Blue Jay Diner.

"She's been a stark raving bitch ever since she and Harlene broke up," the waitress said.

"Har, Harlene? Harlene Guilbeau?" Zane asked, giggling.

Harlene Guilbeau danced at Hunter's Cabin under the name Harlow. She wore elegant evening gowns reminiscent of the glamourous age of Hollywood. By the end of her set, she would be down to opera gloves, thigh high stockings and high heels and a diamond choker or long strand of pearls.

"Yeah. You know her?" the waitress asked.

"Not really," Zane smirked.

After another dating app hookup with a woman that admitted she'd used her younger sister's picture, Zane decided to stop trying to replace Dominique and just enjoy her peace and quiet and solitude. She would concentrate on work, concentrate on her investments. Zane even thought to look into Vo-Tech. Her good looks and good physique would not last forever. She needed to think beyond the small stage.

That decision lasted all of a week. After all, there was only so much studying the on-line Stock Exchange information one could read before going blind. There were only so many career choices one could ponder then reject. There were only so many solitary pool games one could play before losing her mind.

--.--

"Hey Kid," the bartender called out when Zane entered the Cottonbowl Bar.

"Hey," Zane smiled.

"Old enough drink yet?" the man asked as Zane approached the only table that was available.

"Yeah, but just give me a Barq's," Zane agreed, putting her quarters onto the table. "I'm driving."

Grabbing a stick from the rack after verifying that the cue stick did not have a black stripe, Zane practiced a few trick shots. A young man swaggered up to the table, sneer permanently etched on his blandly handsome face.

"Fifty to play this table," Zane said calmly as the boy dropped his quarters onto the table.

"Got fifty?" the boy sneered. "Ain't never lost yet."

Zane flashed a wad of cash. The boy swore he had the money but did not show any cash. With a shrug, Zane nodded her agreement.

"Uh huh. I'll even let you break," Zane smirked as the boy racked the balls.

He broke but sank nothing. Zane then ran the table. He mumbled something about an ATM right down the street and hurried out of the bar.

"Fifty says we ain't never seeing him again," Rhonda called out, cackling.

"Oops; got to go," Zane said suddenly, thrusting her half-full bottle of root beer across the bar. "See you."

Zane scampered across the street and pumped her stubby legs as fast as she could. Racing around the corner of the strip mall, Zane skittered to a stop by the rear door. A breeze fluttered and Zane coughed, wrinkling her face in disgust.

"God! Forgot how bad that thing smells," Zane muttered, looking at the dumpster.

"And Dr. Ubelhauser got all over me about my salt but I'm like, you try eating healthy at the cafeteria..." Zane heard as the rear door opened.

"Got company," a tall brunette mentioned, nodding with her head toward the solitary figure standing near the door.

"I uh, oh, hi," Dominique stammered, hand covering her small bump.

Words stuck in Zane's throat. She tried once, couldn't make words come out, then tried again. Tears of frustration began to form in her eyes.

Slowly, she approached Dominique. Dominique's eyes watched Zane carefully, some tears of her own beginning to form.

""I miss you," Zane managed to whisper just before their lips met.

"I miss, I miss the old you, the Zane I had before I got, before I told you I'm pregnant," Dominique said.

"I need you," Zane confessed.

"Yeah, Domi, looks like you got a ride?" the tall brunette asked as she unlocked the door of a small car.

"Yeah, she's got a ride," Zane said, tightly embracing Dominique.

"Yeah, Melanie; thanks," Dominique said.

--.--

On September 24th, Dominique Strickler gave birth to Andrew Charles Strickler. She explained that Andrew Burke, her uncle had died, congenital heart defect. She'd been an infant when he'd died but her mother had claimed Uncle Andrew had loved Dominique and would have been Dominique's godfather had he lived.

"And Charles is my Daddy," Dominique tiredly explained.

"He's beautiful, Zane said, then kissed Dominique. "You're beautiful."

"Yeah, yeah, beautiful. Everything's just so beautiful; we doing a DNA test so we can find out who did this to you?" Charles Strickler snarled, clearly uncomfortable around his daughter's homosexuality.

The father turned out to be Dominique's cousin, Paul Strickler. Charles wanted to beat his twenty nine year old nephew to a bloody pulp for taking advantage of a clearly intoxicated girl. Thankfully, Douglas Strickler intervened. No good would come of physical retaliation.

"No, no, instead," Douglas said, glaring at his irresponsible son, "He'll pay one thousand a month in child support..."

"A thousand?" Paul squealed.

"And half medical, half educational," Douglas said, hand twisting in Paul's shoulder length blond ponytail. "Or would you rather go to prison for rape? On top of incest?"

"Rape? It wasn't rape; you're hurting me," Paul whined.

"Rape. Your cousin, your own cousin was obviously intoxicated. Guess what, Mister been to four colleges and still don't have a degree in anything?" Douglas yelled, forcing the twenty nine year old child to his knees. "That's considered rape."

Paul made a grand total of two payments before running away from home. Douglas sighed and continued to pay the monthly child support, knowing Paul would come back as soon as he was out of money, or was in trouble again.

"Know what Charlie," Douglas said to his younger brother. "Next time? I think I will let you beat that boy's ass. Might knock some sense into him."

--.--

This year, there were only ninety one entrants for the pool tournament. Lynn Helmont was there; Christine Campbell was not. Zane managed to eliminate the brunette in the fourth game. As Lynn stomped away, Zane commented to Dominique that the brunette was not aging well. She had some hard lines on her face and breasts and buttocks were beginning to sag. The shorts and patent leather vest no longer looked racy, daring. Now the risqué outfit just looked sad.

In between games, Zane was showing off her trick shots. Dominique was pocketing some cash, betting on Zane's abilities.

"Twenty. Twenty says she can make eight balls on one shot," Dominique called out.

"Eight? In one... yeah, yeah, I got twenty says..." a few men said.

"Twenty. Twenty says she jumps the three ball and makes the one ball in the corner pocket," Dominique called out.

She only made sixty dollars on that bet. By the time Zane and an old man they kept calling 'Dennis the Menace' were sinking shots as Eddy called them, no one was taking Dominique's challenges. Dominique shrugged; she had nearly a thousand dollars to put into AC's college fund with Russel Ubelhauser.

"Tough break, kid," Dennis smirked as Eddy called out the five ball; the five was right next to the corner pocket.

"Yes. Tough break," Zane agreed as Dennis managed to miss the shot.

"Three ball," Eddy called out. "She makes this? She takes first place."

"Son of a bitch, son of a bitch, son of a bitch," Dennis chanted as Zane easily knocked the ball into the corner pocket.

"Here, Baby," Zane said, thrusting the ten Franklins at Dominique. "Put this in AC's college fund."

"Can not fucking believe? Just can not fucking believe a fucking stripper beat me," Dennis growled, enraged. "A stripper! A fucking stripper!"

"Tough break, Dennis the Menace," Dominique shrugged, following her girlfriend from the Billiards hall.

The End

**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment.

I thank you for reading my stories. I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I also thank those that take the time to rate my works, those that 'Favorite' my words.

This is an entry for the 'YAY TEAM 2025' Author Challenge organized by Voyeurkenneth. Please take a moment to vote for this and the many other fine stories contributed for this challenge. Thank you.

Eddy Jones, Edward Brian Jones is the son of Sheriff Adam Jones and Jan Jones nee Dorchester, two minor characters mentioned in 'Outside of Their Jurisdiction' in the Loving Wives category.

Lynn Helmont is briefly mentioned in 'Ozark Weekend' in the Incest/Taboo category; she was Donnie's girlfriend.

Nicholas Cohen is briefly mentioned in the 'Watching TV Rots Your Brain' series. He bullies Malone for having long hair, then further along in the series, Nicholas impregnates Andrea White, a friend of Malone's.

Alan Hackett, one of the opponents Lynn manages to beat is first mentioned in 'Lunches' in the Mature category.

Wedges, the sandwich shop that specializes in deep fried sandwiches is first mentioned in 'Eyes like the Ocean' in the Anal category.

Hunter's Cabin is introduced in the "Give Me the Remote" series.

Russell Ubelhauser and the Ubelhauser firm are introduced in 'Lipstick Prints on the Window' In the Incest/Taboo category.

Jack Thompson and the Thompson Group are introduced in the 'Bit of a Bitch' series.

The furniture store that Jack invests in is 'Their Private Saddle' which is introduced in '101 Avila Road' in the Toys & Masturbation category.

Swan, Soleil and Patrick are all characters from the 'Give Me the Remote' series.

Bill Coski was an old drunk I knew; he seemed to reside in one of my favorite bars in Metairie, Louisiana in the late 1970s. I am taking license with how to spell his name; I never asked him how it was spelled. But, the man was a pool shark. More than once, he would win free drinks at the bar by putting four balls, one ball into a different pocket with a single shot. He also knew how to make the cue ball jump over another ball to make a shot.

Whenever anyone challenged Bill to a game of eight ball, he would graciously let them go first. Then he would run the table, never moving from his spot. The cue ball would just roll right back to him and he would take the next shot. Then one day, he wasn't there anymore and no one knew what had happened to him.

Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day.