As a first port of call after twelve weeks at sea, the King’s Head wasn’t bad. The beer was good and reasonably priced, there wasn’t too much noise and the bar didn’t slope. The smell of stale smoke was in keeping with the faded upholstery. It was just after opening time and the bar was almost empty. The barman was watching a replay on the telly, only coming near us when we called for beer. By the third pint we were supping rather than gulping, leaning our elbows on the bar and putting our feet on the bar rail. From a back room we could hear the sound of pool balls being played.

“ Come on” said Stu, “I fancy a game”. Taking our drinks with us we went into the games room. There were dartboards on either side and in the middle a single pool table. Round the walls were rough seats, planks on drinks boxes. There were only two players, both in their thirties; a wiry black haired tattooed man and a slightly plump woman. They were just starting a new game, she was breaking and as I looked at her hands I noticed lots of gold rings on pinkish, slightly swollen hands. Her face had been good looking but drink had made it worn.

We nodded to the players and sat beneath one of the dartboards to watch the game. They were intent on their game; the woman potting three in a row before handing the cue to the man. He sank four, then missed. With a curse he handed back the cue and picked up his drink, sucking the suds through his teeth. She walked round the table looking for an angle. When she bent, it was directly in line with us and the thong she was wearing left very little to the imagination. The fabric had worked its way up between her pussy lips and there were wisps of hair on both sides.

I winked at Stu and we both looked back at the sight greedily. She seemed to have a lot of trouble lining the ball up right, as she kept leaning further over the table.


Her partner had been on the other side of the table during all this but whether it was the expression on our faces, or for some other reason he came round to where the woman was leaning. He stood back from the table, looking at us, then at the woman, hand tightening around the glass. “ You looking at something”, he said to Stu. Stu shrugged, saying nothing. “ Well”? She had turned back from the table at this point and stood cue in hand, looking at both of them without expression.

Stu stood up and moved towards him, towering over him, his unembarrassed prick jutting out. “ Yeah”, he said, “the first bit of pussy I’ve seen in twelve weeks at sea. Do you want to make something of it”? “ Twelve weeks at sea eh! Can’t blame you for looking then".
He dropped his gaze to Stu's crotch and whispered conspiratorially, "I can see you’re right fucking horny too. Big one an all. Eh Marlene, what do you think”. Marlene stood with the cue in her right hand, looking intently at the bulge Stu’s cock made in his trousers. She transferred her gaze to his face.
“Lets have a look at it then”, h er voice was deep and slow, . Stu hesitated, staring past her at the door into the bar. “ Don’t worry” she said, flicking her hand at the door, “no one’s coming in”. Bill moved to the door and shot the bolt then he folded his arms and stood there expectantly.