Authors note: This story idea was first proposed in the story ideas thread of Lit's forums by MNGuy. Advice on the development of the game was given by Steve_x and a7inchPhildo, thanks guys! This story is significantly shorter than my norm and not nearly as involved. The idea was to do a story based on the story idea and I tried to concentrate on that aspect of it. I still hope you all enjoy it. If you don't know the rules of Nine-ball it will be very confusing.
CET
Ingrid Rios drove the cue stick forward in a smooth motion. The cue ball kissed the bumper and grazed the black ball that hung on the very edge of the pocket, causing it to fall.
"That's a hundred Manny, wanna double up again?" the small woman asked as she chalked her cue.
"Nah, you're already into me for most of my take on the deal I came here to do. I'll give the rest to the
putas
over at Rosie's, at least I'll get something for the green," the stocky Mexican in the greasy biker leathers said as he broke down his expensive cue stick and placed it in a black case.
"Yeah, the clap," Ingrid replied as she pocketed the cash sitting on the lip of the table.
"Wouldn't be the first time," he replied amiably. Manny was a short, stocky, balding Mexican and leader of the feared Banditos motorcycle club. No matter how many times she saw him he always gave the impression of being off, almost like his upper body had been intended for longer legs and somewhere there was a mix up. Whenever he made it to town he stopped in and said hello. They would usually play a rack or two of pool, share a pitcher of beer, reminisce for a bit and then he would be on his way. Manny knew she was a lesbian and there was a comfort level between them that kept sexual innuendo out of their dealings. It wasn't too curious, considering she had been his old lady for two years before she decided she was really more into girls. The Bandito's lifestyle made it easy to discover herself and experiment with her sexuality, after all free-for-all orgies were a Saturday night ritual. Manny had been cool with it and she suspected her leaving him had come as a relief. He was a free spirit and anything that tied him down was hard on him.
Ingrid was short and stocky as well, but where Manny seemed disproportionate she appeared to be well put together. Her wide hips and large ass coupled with an impressive bust made her seem lush and inviting. Her face was exotic, a mixture of features from her father, a Hispanic Sergeant in the U.S. Third Infantry Division and her mother, a German girl from the good side of Berlin. Her father had met her mother while he was stationed overseas and they had been married while her mother was pregnant with Ingrid.
After Manny left she moved behind the bar and wiped it down. Tanner's was her place, bought for her by Manny as a kind of breaking up gift. Tanner had been a Caucasian with a fondness for the senoritas. It had gotten him into trouble and he had been forced to leave Texas in a damned big hurry. The stocky biker had picked the roadhouse up for a song and given it to her the night he and the Banditos roared out of her day-to-day life. Manny usually lost when they played. Ingrid felt like he lost on purpose, wanting to help out, but afraid of offering her charity and rousing her anger. If he realized the tidy sum she had saved since she took over the place he would probably be less willing to part with his ill-gotten gains.
She loved the little place and had proven to be a sound businesswoman. Manny and the Banditos now used the back room for deals and on more than one occasion her private apartments upstairs had served as a hide out or hospital room when things went bad. She was happy to help out, but they paid for it with a cut of the deals or cash for using her place to hide out. She didn't ask for it, it was just the way Manny was.
The little place drew a good crowd most nights, especially when the local community college was in session. Ingrid never tired of checking out the coeds, but they were for the most part all white, middle upper class and hopelessly straight. Still, eye candy was better than nothing and since her girl Rita had moved back to the old country last year she hadn't been getting even a sniff.
She poured herself a beer and examined the place. It was small and darkly lit with only a few lights. Two ancient pinball machines sat in a corner near the restrooms and three carefully maintained pool tables occupied a small alcove. A few tables and chairs filled the rest of the space. Most regulars sat at stools along the long bar. Ingrid slipped out from behind the bar and used her master key to free the balls on one of the tables. She racked them up and played a while, sharpening her skills. She had always been good at pool, but now her earnings from the games she played each night almost matched the little places take for an evening. Pete, the bartender came in around five and started getting set up. She had three waitresses on staff, but only Tina and Alice were on tonight. Around seven the place began to fill up.
Ingrid first noticed her when she came in with a bunch of others. She was tall, not just tall for a woman, but tall all around, maybe six foot one or two. The girl stood head and shoulders above her companions, and what a head! the Hispanic woman thought. She had a high forehead and high cheekbones with flashing hazel eyes and a cute pug nose. Luxurious black hair fell in a gentle cascade down her shoulders and framed her face. Her neck was long and graceful, shown off by the simple black choker she wore. Ingrid shifted from one foot to the other to get a better look at her body as she passed between two tables filled with drunken cowboys. All eyes at those tables were on her as well.
She wore a tight red sheath dress made of some clingy material. It was having trouble holding her impressive bust in and seemed to be straining at her wide hips as they swayed seductively. Her long legs were encased in black stockings and she wore black ankle boots with a four-inch heel. She looked so out of place in a Texas roadhouse that Ingrid had to look again to make sure she wasn't dreaming. The girl's five companions were also dressed to the nines and Ingrid remembered that there was some kind of concert going on over at the college tonight. Even as she remembered the concert another couple came in dressed in their finery. Ingrid shrugged and went back to her game, but she did catch herself stealing glances at the tall brunette whenever a shot allowed her to without being obvious.
By midnight Ingrid had yielded her table and was having a long debate with herself. She sat behind the bar at her usual spot, just to the left of the window back to the small kitchen. A tall boy of Shiner bock sat untouched before her.
Now what would a knockout piece of ass like her see in me? she asked herself. Ingrid glanced at her reflection in the mirror behind the big bar. Flat features, nose too broad, lips too wide, kinky black hair she worn in a tight buzzcut. She had really struck out in the looks department she mused. Her mother was a Scandinavian beauty and her father darkly handsome. All three sisters had taken after their mother and both of her brothers looked like dad. She had been the oddball, getting the worst of both she always felt. Which brought her back to the knockout sipping beer with her obviously toasted friends. Why was it that every time Ingrid threw a glance her way she found the girl staring at her? Could she really be interested? Or was it more likely that her own loneliness was playing tricks on her? Well, the bitch was edible, maybe it wouldn't hurt to go and find out.
No sooner had she made the decision and started to stand than she realized the girl was gone! Their table was empty and Alice was cleaning up the empties. Ingrid sat back down and took a large swallow of her beer. Damnit all to hell, she thought. I'm no good at this being a butch. I ought to give it up and go back to men. The thought echoed in her head for a few moments, causing her to smile. Well, no, never back to men, but a change of scenery might do her well. Maybe over to Dallas or even Atlanta she thought. She had friends in the gay scene in those cities and she would be sure to score at least a few times. The trouble with this small town was that everyone knew what everyone else was doing and no one was out. It was just too dangerous with all the John Wayne wannabes running around.
Ingrid smiled and finished her beer. A vacation then, she would go as soon as she could arrange for Pete to run the place for a week. He was an ex-biker and she trusted him. She had enough on him to send him to Texas's electric chair a few times over, so he was dependable. Ingrid took her cue from its place behind the bar and returned to the pool tables, she hadn't made as much as usual tonight and she was in a good mood for the first time in weeks.
