Missing a Ball
Even though it might seem strange, there are times when I’m not in the mood for any company and I make time just for myself. I want to free myself from all obligations, create a pleasant atmosphere, watch porn, fantasize, and indulge in pleasure on my own terms. I don’t want to hear or see anyone; I just want to be alone with myself, my own lover. While it can’t be compared to traditional sex, it brings me a completely different kind of satisfaction, which I shape according to the feelings and ideas that come to me as I go along. Often, it’s a session lasting several hours, during which I don’t skip a single spot on my body, bringing me a blissful experience. It’s not about coming quickly, but about arousing myself slowly and passionately with obscene fantasies—ones I’ve experienced or would like to experience. And with a glass of something good to drink and the right porn... But as is often the case, time is my greatest enemy, and since the best way to end these games is to fall asleep, exhausted, with my hand in my wet lap, the best time is early evening, when I expect the surrounding activities and distractions to have died down.
And just when that moment arrived for me—and I was already passionately indulging in my little games beneath the bubbling foam in the tub—a message came asking if I’d like to come to a gentlemen’s club. At that moment, my eagerly anticipated plans fell apart, and I was faced with the dilemma of how to respond. On the one hand, I was already looking forward to spending the evening alone; on the other hand, I felt the urge to get out of the house. While I was mulling over my reply, another message arrived saying that if I decided to come, they’d send a car to pick me up. My initial mood and plans gradually faded away. I knew it would keep nagging at me anyway, and out of nowhere, it wouldn’t go away, no matter which way I decided. I replied that I’d come, and they could pick me up in an hour. I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and went to get ready. It wasn’t that complicated, because it wasn’t some kind of strip club, but a club where guys get together to boast about their conquests, badmouth their wives, play pool, and—most importantly—drink plenty of alcohol. It was rare for them to request female company, but when they were celebrating something, they wanted someone to take care of them—and they knew how to show their appreciation. So I just slipped on a form-fitting dress, put on some makeup, and right then a message came saying the car was waiting in front of the house.
There were six guys at the club, and aside from the one who invited me, I didn’t know any of them. They’d apparently been there for a while, as evidenced by their cheerful mood and high spirits. Two of them were staggering around the pool table, slightly tipsy, while the others, glasses in hand, were giving them advice. Between games, we gradually introduced ourselves, and I went to the minibar to see what drinks were available that night. There wasn’t much of a selection, but there was more than enough. “Hey, miss! We’re running dry here,” came a cry for help, drowning out the sound of the balls clattering together. “Sure, coming right up,” I replied, setting out six glasses on a tray. “Aren’t you joining us?” one of them asked when he saw I was bringing them an even number. “I’d love to, thank you,” I replied and went back for one more. The gentlemen were having a great time among themselves, and in my moments of inactivity, I’d run my fingers down my pussy under the bar, fantasizing about what I’d probably be doing at home right now. It was pretty boring, because aside from the regular rounds of keeping their glasses full and emptying the ashtrays, nobody wanted anything—even though I occasionally made a pass at them. But aside from the occasional quick slap on the ass, it didn’t go anywhere. “This is going to be a long night,” I sighed.
The guys weren’t really playing anymore; they were mostly leaning against the table or a cue stick and chatting. Then a crazy idea popped into my head, and I started laughing to myself. I waited for the next round, and when they were all toasting together, I discreetly picked up the white ball from the table and my purse from the minibar, then slipped off to the restroom. I rinsed it thoroughly, put it in a condom, coated it with lube, and made it disappear. I listened for a moment through the slightly ajar door to make sure everything was quiet, then slowly made my way back to the minibar with uncertain steps, my legs slightly apart. I shifted awkwardly from foot to foot and wriggled around to get the ball to settle nicely so it wouldn’t press against me. It seemed like no one had noticed anything yet, because they were engrossed in their conversation and showed no interest in playing. “I hope they’re not done yet,” flashed through my mind, when suddenly I heard: “Guys, I’m going to take a piss, so set it up for one more round.” I perked up and waited tensely to see what would happen. “Hey guys, have you seen the white girl?” echoed through the room. “You mean the singer?” asked one of the players, confused. “No, dude! I mean the ball! The white ball!” he replied, looking all around. “Damn it, guys, stop messing around and come help me look for it,” he urged his colleagues to pitch in. Only then did it finally dawn on them that he was serious, and they started searching too. “What are you looking for?” asked a colleague in surprise, returning from the bathroom. “A white ball,” one of them mumbled. “I don’t get it! We’ve already looked everywhere. It’s just gone to hell!” replied the other, peering somewhere under the table. I had to start laughing because he was the only one who was right, and to lighten the mood, I decided to bring them some drinks. They stood there with glasses in their hands, staring at each other in confusion. It didn’t occur to either of them to ask me. “Why don’t we just forget about playing and go find some girls?” came a voice from the table. “We’ll find the ball later, and I’d be getting laid until I cry,” he added. I tried to eavesdrop on their conversation as much as possible so I’d know which direction the evening was heading. I poured myself a drink, pricked up my ears, and continued to amuse myself by teasing my clit. “That ball has to be found, gentlemen,” the conversation turned back to the lost ball. “Then go find it yourself. We’re off to pick up some girls,” two of them decided, called a cab, and got ready to leave.
It was clear from the mood of those who remained that, aside from pool, nothing else interested them, so I decided to stop playing hide-and-seek so as not to ruin their evening. I was a little disappointed, since I’d expected something different from the whole thing. While I was in the bathroom, the two of them had already left, and the remaining four were sitting at the table. I walked straight over to the pool table, leaned against it provocatively to draw attention away from the playing surface, and “discreetly” placed a ball among the others. “Be a sweetheart and bring us the whole bottle,” a voice said behind me. “Sure, coming right up,” I replied and walked over to the minibar as if nothing had happened. I poured myself a shot to calm my nerves and got to work. “Dude, she’s got one hell of an ass! Did you guys notice? I’d totally hook up with her,” I overheard from the table. “Yeah, me too! But she’s a friend of a friend, so I’m staying out of it,” their casual conversation continued. “Well, she’s not a friend of mine,” he replied with a laugh, “do you think she’d be up for it?” “Yeah, she would,” I answered to myself silently and headed over to them with the bottle. “Quiet, here she comes,” came the warning. I set the bottle on the table and went to change the ashtray. On my way back, I stopped by the restroom to freshen up and headed back to the table. “Anything else you’d like, gentlemen?” I asked. “Why don’t you come sit with us? We’re not going to play anymore anyway—our main ball rolled away, so we’re kind of bored,” they suggested. “Maybe,” I replied, pretending I hadn’t heard the part about the ball. “Here’s to balls!” rang out another of the many toasts, and the level in the bottle was dropping dangerously low. “I’ll tell you what, right now I envy those two who are out having a good time somewhere,” one of them mused, “maybe we should have gone with them.” “And what the fuck are you missing here?” asked the guy sitting next to me. “Exactly, fuck!” he replied, his blank gaze drifting down to my crotch, “just to have a little fun and pass out. But now I don’t feel like going anywhere,” he added. “Hmm, I guess so,” they agreed, “and let’s drink to that.”
I got up from the table, leaned my back against the pool table, and pretended to be racking the balls. As I did so, I felt the hem of my dress ride up all the way to my ass. “Here’s to whores!” boomed a voice amid the loud clinking of glasses, and a deathly silence fell, followed by inaudible whispers. “Check this out, man, I can’t hold back anymore—I’m gonna go for it,” I heard quite clearly behind me, and I spread my legs slightly. They must have been able to see me all the way up to my neck, because a gentle, cool breeze brushed against my labia, soon replaced by someone’s warm hand. “Would you like to come with me to the bathroom to fool around?” a timid, familiar voice asked me. “Why can’t we do it right here?” I replied without hesitation, asking a question he clearly hadn’t expected, but judging by the intensity of his fingers groping me under my dress, the idea excited him. “Stop it, or I’ll come in your hand,” I added, turning directly toward his pants, which he was already unbuttoning with his other hand. Right in front of my mouth, a huge cock appeared, just waiting to be sucked. He clearly didn’t care that his coworkers were there, because it was sticking out of his pants. He didn’t even wait for me to get into position; he grabbed my head and pulled me right toward him, so I barely had time to open my mouth. It wasn’t very long, but it more than made up for it in girth and filled my mouth beautifully. I stayed bent over, watching out of the corner of my eye as his coworkers sat slumped at the table. Two of them were sitting with drinks in their hands, watching their colleague’s boldness with surprise, and the third had his cock out, jerking off fervently as if he were watching porn on TV. To tease them even more, I started licking my pussy from below and fingering myself. Their reaction wasn’t long in coming.
The others’ shyness faded with each glass, and soon two of them were going at it at the table. Suddenly, the first guy stood up and moved next to my suitor, hinting that he’d also like some oral pleasure. My suitor reluctantly made room for him, but I grabbed his cock and guided him behind me so he could take me from behind. Without hesitation, he embraced his new position, felt his way under my dress to my slit, and all I could feel was his enormous glans pushing through my labia and sliding inside. While he was fucking me like a bitch and his colleague had his balls in my mouth, the second guy approached from the side and perversely wiped his cock on my dress. I didn’t even notice if he came and went back to sit at the table, chatting with his colleague. They switched places, and I was once again caressing that huge head with my shameless lips. Up until then, I’d thought I had everything under control, but suddenly the situation changed. The two of them got up from the table, grabbed me, and laid me face down on the pool table. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, and before I could even react, they were holding me spread-eagled, each gripping one of my legs. “So, guys, who’s going first? Let’s get this going,” said the fourth guy, who’d been quietly sipping glass after glass the whole time. They treated me like a cheap whore, but since I was already tipsy, I willingly went along with it. The second guy stepped up—the one who’d been wiping his dick on me earlier—and slid it inside me. “Spread her legs wide so I can go deeper,” he told the other two and thrust into me. “Dude, she’s slippery as hell,” he shared his discovery with the others. I smiled to myself, because not only had I been horny as hell since the afternoon, but I also had some lube in there from my botched stash. I could feel him thrusting inside me, too, but I closed my eyes and just enjoyed it shamelessly. I wasn’t trying to do anything—let him show what he’s got. “Shit,” he suddenly exclaimed, and he was already spurting all over me. He didn’t last long, but there was quite a lot of it. He wiped himself off on my ass and went to get a drink. “Now it’s my turn to get laid. Come on, let’s grab her,” the sophomore urged the guy with the big dick and started pulling down his pants. “Guys, I need to go take a piss,” I told them. “That can wait—you can hold it,” he replied and started jerking off. I wanted to start teasing him so he’d get hard quickly, but I was worried I’d pee myself. But he found a way to help himself and rubbed his cock against my wet labia, dripping with my classmate’s cum. As soon as he got hard, he started fucking me hard, making me bounce up and down. His huge cockhead held me by the tits, and his fingers rubbed my swollen nipples. At times, my voice would even crack as he pounded into me and kept increasing the intensity, which made it seem like he was about to come any second. I wanted him to just cum already and pull out of me because he was too hard, but I was afraid to help him, lest he cum inside me too soon. “I’m almost there, hold on, almost, almost,” he moaned, pulled out, and finished off on my pussy.
Unfortunately, what I’d been expecting all along happened, and I, too, started squirting out of that little hole, right onto his shirt, which I completely soaked. “I warned you,” I said with a smile and shrugged. “You little slut,” he replied and slapped my ass. “Guys, she’s all yours!” he added and went to sit down next to his colleague. I thought we’d take a little break for a snack, but the guy with the huge cock was already getting ready in front of me. “Gentlemen, that’s enough!” I stopped them and sat down. “I need something to drink, or I’m not continuing,” I said with difficulty, because I was already terribly thirsty and my throat was completely parched. “Oh yeah, man, we totally forgot to stay hydrated,” he grumbled in agreement, let go of my leg, and handed each of us a shot and a glass of water. It fizzed nicely inside us, and we were able to continue. “Could I change positions? My ass is already hurting,” I suggested. “No problem. Make yourself comfortable however you like,” replied the one with the huge cock. I got off and, barely able to stand, positioned myself from behind, resting my elbows on the pool table. I don’t know if I’d chosen the wisest position, because if he’d accidentally hit me in the wrong spot with that huge glans, I probably wouldn’t have been able to walk afterward. But before I had time to finish that thought, he grabbed my hips and started fucking me. I could feel him enjoying himself inside me. He moved from side to side, slowly pulling out and thrusting back in, occasionally rubbing my clit or nipples with his hand, and for the first time all evening, I was finally enjoying myself. At the end, he asked me if he could cum on my tongue. And since that kind of finish turns me on, I wasn’t opposed to it. I quickly turned around, squatted down, and held out my tongue toward his huge glans, eagerly waiting for him to jerk off. Even though he was only a few centimeters away from me, his uncontrolled, powerful ejaculation splattered all over my face, including my eyes, and it wasn’t until the second one that I felt it in the right spot. Completely blinded, I felt for his cock and rubbed that delightful glans with my palm, having no idea what was going on around me, when suddenly I felt another wave of cum hit my already splattered face. Confused, I turned my head slightly and came face-to-face with a protruding cock, not knowing who it belonged to. I tried to open my eyes a little to get my bearings so I could go to the bathroom and clean up. “Here, take this handkerchief,” offered the third guy, who had been just watching with his dick in his hand until then. “That’s great, thank you,” I replied gratefully and slowly made my way toward the bathroom with unsteady steps.
“Can I come with you?” a voice asked from behind me. “Sure,” I replied indifferently, “Do you want to do it in the bathroom?” “Well, you know, how should I put this,” he stammered, “it’s not even about getting off—but it turns me on when I jerk off in front of a woman and she watches me. Do you think that’d be possible?” “You’re hesitating—of course it is. I also like it when a guy jerks off in front of me. There’s nothing weird about that,” I replied with a smile. “And that’s all?” I asked, just so I wouldn’t end up being surprised. “Basically, yeah, I just didn’t want to do it there, in front of the guys, you know,” he added. “Oh, sure. So pull it out already and turn me on,” I urged him, sitting down on the toilet. “You’re jerking off so deliciously!” I told him after watching for a moment. “I think I’m going to come with you. What do you say? Would you like that?” I added and started masturbating with him. It was clear he was enjoying it and savoring every movement of his hand. “You’re doing it beautifully—keep going! We’ll come at the same time,” I whispered to let him know that it was satisfying me, too. He moved closer and started to speed up. At that moment, I, too, felt it building up inside me and let out a moan. Suddenly, he knelt down and started splashing my legs, which began to tremble uncontrollably as the orgasm washed over me. While I was stroking my pussy and savoring the lingering afterglow of my orgasm, the guy was wiping his cock on my calf and getting ready to leave. “Thanks a lot, that was great,” he said and walked back to his friends.
I stayed sitting with my legs spread on the toilet, resting and idly running my finger back and forth between my labia. I was so tipsy and tired that I didn’t feel like getting up and going after them at all. Actually, I didn’t feel like doing anything at all, and I was thinking about what I’d probably be doing at home right now, when a wave of pleasure washed over me, triggered by my mischievous finger moving dangerously close to my hypersensitive clit, and I unexpectedly got turned on again. “Why not? I’ll finally take a moment for myself,” I thought, and I locked the door for a sense of privacy. Despite the bizarre threesome with the guys, I remained obsessed with the desire to satisfy myself. So many perverse and sinful thoughts began racing through my head—thoughts I was growing accustomed to—that I came twice in a row. Feeling good and satisfied, I finally mustered the courage to stand in front of the mirror and started getting myself together. “Well, this is probably going to take a while,” I thought to myself as I gave myself a thorough once-over. Suddenly, someone turned the doorknob. That’s when I realized there was actually only one shared bathroom. I unlocked the door and opened it a crack. “Come on in, I’ll let you in. I still need to finish putting on my makeup,” I said with a smile and started to walk away. “That’s fine. If you don’t mind, I’ll just take a quick pee and be on my way,” came the reply to my accommodating gesture. It was the guy with the huge cock. “No, it’s fine. Go ahead,” I invited him, staying by the mirror with my makeup in hand, continuing to fix my face. “I’ll be right with you,” I said to fill the awkward silence and the pleasant sound of him peeing. “No problem. We’re probably going to call it off anyway,” he replied. “Well, you guys really messed me up, so it took me a while,” I explained, justifying the extra time I’d spent in the bathroom. “Don’t worry about it. Nobody keeps track of time in there,” he added, tucking it back into his pants and walking away.
When I finally got back, everyone was sitting at the table, drunk, and silent. I stood by the pool table, watching this listless bunch, and asked if they wanted anything else. “Yeah! Call us a cab—we’re done,” came a voice from the table. “Okay,” I replied cheerfully, “oh, and did you know that the ball you were looking for has been sitting on the table the whole time?” I added, heading to the minibar to get the phone. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” muttered the senior, staggering over to the pool table. He stared at it for a moment as if it were a vision, then bellowed toward the table: “You idiots, it’s really here! Come take a look, you blind fools!” But they just waved their hands indifferently, indicating they’d taken note. “You’d better clean this whole place up and let’s go home,” the huge oaf urged him. “Gentlemen, the taxi will be here in fifteen minutes,” I informed them. “Great! Wait!” the sophomore stopped me and pulled out his wallet. “Here, this is for taking care of us today. And call me a taxi!” he stammered, slipping the money down my neckline. “But I already called a cab a while ago, and it’ll be here in fifteen minutes,” I assured him. “Oh? I see—well, look how resourceful you are. You should’ve told us that, right?” he continued, but I wasn’t even listening to him anymore because it was pointless. We locked up the club and staggered out to the front of the building to wait for the cab. When I got home, it was well past midnight, and the only thing on my mind was a shower and sleep. It wasn’t exactly the kind of evening I’d originally imagined, and I was also a little disappointed that my little prank with the lost ball hadn’t worked out, but in the end, it exceeded even my wildest expectations.
