Balls on the Baize

The semi-pro snooker tournament had been a great success. Players from all around had come to support the charities and meet some of the famous snooker players who had agreed to visit.

30 tables across 3 snooker clubs in the town of Barston had hosted matches and 120 players had played on the Friday and Saturday to try and get to the ultimate prize. Quite an impressively sized, if rather gaudy, trophy, £500 in cash and a £1,000 donation to the charity of the winner's choice.

"Harry's Cue Club", in the centre of Barston, was going to host the quarters, semis and final. Jeff had been running around all the venues since Thursday, in his role as tournament manager. With the exception of an entire missing set of snooker balls on day 1, and a sudden hunt for a cue for a player whose own cue didn't make it to the tournament in one piece, he'd been central to making it a significant success.

By 11pm on Saturday night, he was standing in an empty snooker hall, where those last 8 players would be back by 10am on the Sunday to play out the tournament to the end. It had been a great couple of days. The professional tour "giving back" to the next tier of snooker players, who either didn't quite make the pro tour or didn't have the funds. Everyone had enjoyed it so far. Jeff's role as a tournament director on the pro tour made organising something like this possible.

He thought he was alone, musing on how the day had gone while finishing brushing the baize on a snooker table, but...

"Hello, Jeff. Thinking?"

"Oh, me? No chance." He chuckled. "The other venues sorted, Becca?"

"Yes, they were packed out but all locked up now. What are you doing?"

"Oh, just finished prepping the tables for the morning." He spoke while moving a handheld brush between his hands. Jeff had been doing everything from player guidance to cleaning, doing anything that needed it to make it as good a tournament as possible for the players.

In his late forties, it had been three piece suits each day for him, looking immaculate, not dissimilar to his role on the pro tour. Saturday's was a dark blue number with a pink shirt and deep maroon coloured tie. Now, he was alone, only now was the jacket discarded, the waistcoat undone and the tie loosened. Tall and well built without being overtly fit, his suits always sat well on him, His dark brown hair, collar length, was still full but had been giving way to the grey for a while.

Becca had been his willing no.2 ever since he came up with the idea. It was she who was the snooker player, having made good inroads into trying to make a career in the women's side of the game which, while it brought good tournament finishes, medals and trophies, didn't get the money that the men's side did. As a result, Becca had excelled at player relations on the men's professional tour to earn cash. She was well liked by everyone and it was her influence and pull that got three big pros to come along and meet the players. Her behind the scenes work made a lot of things tick at this event. They were a good team.

Tonight was to be the first chance Becca had to lift a cue and knock a few balls around. That's why she turned up now, hoping to get some quiet time so she could play in peace before the final day on Sunday.

"Fancy a drink, Becca. I could murder a brandy."

"You bet. Vodka, lime, soda on the rocks, please."

Jeff switched one light on at the bar and made the drinks while Becca took a seat.

Becca had also been dressed up all weekend. Her red blazer covered a fair part of her white silk blouse beneath. A mid-thigh skirt to match the jacket atop her naturally bronzed bare legs from a recent week's flit to Lanzarote after the Snooker World Championships, where she'd been flat out for nearly a month.

Becca was tall so her shoes were trainers, partially because they were comfortable to be in for the 17 hours she's been in them that day and, also, because she was a little conscious that her height made her stand out a little. At 5'11", she always felt like she might be a little imposing sometimes, even though she didn't want to be and her welcoming personality meant everyone was happy to see her and helpful to her.

Her height though was an advantage in the game, not having to resort to the rests when most of her competitors would. She was broad across the shoulders but athletically trim, coming from occasional occupation of various hotel gyms over the years just to keep herself active when she got time. Tall enough to be called statuesque, her breasts were in proportion to the rest of her lithe body. She would admire her body sometimes, holding her breasts as she stared at herself nude in the mirror sometimes. She had looked after herself, despite the schedules she kept.

"Here, Bec. Slug away on that."

Becca took a sip as she undid the decorative clip that had kept her long, wavy, brownish red hair from getting in the way while she'd been doing her work. Her hair was necessarily coloured, in her view, as she wasn't keen on how, at 41, the strands of grey always seemed to stand out like silver cables in her hair -- at least in her view, anyway.

Becca sipped more and sat at the bar, head supported by hand, reflecting on what they'd done as a team. She'd mused on her life lately and had come to the conclusion a while ago that, to keep doing the same job, she needed to be with somebody doing a similar thing. She always liked working with Jeff and they'd been good, close mates for years, the success of this event being a product of that.

"Jeff?"

"Yes, my partner in crime?" he said, with a laugh in his voice. Jeff and Becca had been around each other, professionally, for the last 10 years. Neither had ever been married. In their own ways, wedded to the sport.

"When was the last time you got any?"

"Any wha...oh...that!"

"Yes, that."

"I couldn't honestly tell you. Why?"

"Because..." Becca extended her hand through her hair. "I think it's time we got some...together."

Jeff looked at Becca.

"Bec, have you been drinking all day."

"Absolutely not. It's just that...we keep on working really closely together. There's no-one on the horizon for me. Is there for you?"

"Nah, this job doesn't lend itself to meeting someone...let alone getting anywhere near sex so...it's OK."

"Well, Jeff..." Becca paused, waiting for Jeff to face her in anticipation of what she would say next. "I want you."

"Becca, you might well be a mindreader."

"Oh, why is that?"

"Because..." Jeff made his way round to Becca from behind the bar, eventually standing in front of her. "I've been feeling the same about you."

Jeff took her hands, motioning her to stand.

That moment, when one can feel...hear the breath of the person in front of them. A sense of their scent. So close that you have to look from eye to eye because you're too close to see that person's face in its entirety. That moment of sheer passionate anticipation.

No words said. There didn't need to be. Becca's wide mouth broke into a smile just before Jeff moved in to kiss her. In all the time they'd known each other, nothing like this had been even hinted at on the surface...but it had been brewing.

Becca's response was immediate, wrapping her arms around him, her tongue eagerly searching for his. Years of repressed feelings were going to come out and, knowing that they were alone and the doors to the venue were locked from the inside, her willingness to abandon any sense of decorum was absolute.

Her jacket landed on the floor, followed closely by her shoes, kicked off quicky. Jeff was shedding his top half too as Becca helped to strip him. They were slowly moving across the floor until they bumped on the side of one of the tournament tables. Passionate kissing was interspersed with an urgent need to explore each other's bare skin.

Jeff knew she was the girl for him. He'd admired her for years but said nothing. Becca's blouse came free quite easily, uncovering a lacy bra, holding her breasts just right, emphasising their shape without pushing or forcing them up or out. The feeling of her skin on his face was doing things down below to him.

Considering he'd not been in this position for years, his adeptness at rendering Becca topless was skilful, pulling her blouse away with one hand whilst unclipping her bra with the other. He stopped to admire her for a second.

Becca had clearly not worried about tops in Lanzarote, her bronze skin, uninterrupted by any suntan marks, her hands pushed his head into her breasts. She enjoyed the feeling of his tongue lapping at her nipples, sucking them occasionally. This had been the fantasy she'd thought of when she'd been helping herself in lonely hotel rooms with her toys and fingers. She was very experienced in what all her erogenous zones could offer her.

This was not the time to be timid.

"Jeff." Becca was panting.

"Yes, Bec. I love your boobs. I could suck them all night."

"You can with pleasure, after you've had me on the table."

"On the table?"

"Yes, I want us to fuck on the thing that we've spent years working with. Come on, Jeff. I'm ready for you."

A bustle of movement and Jeff was lifting Becca onto the corner of the snooker table. She pulled at his trousers to get his belt open, almost ripping the button on the waistband and whacking the fly zip down to get at his cock, pushing any clothing well away. Jeff was naked above his knees.

Becca didn't care. She laid back on the table, legs in the air. Jeff pulled her knickers off as she willingly hoisted her skirt into a rumpled belt around her midriff.

Becca was there, waiting, breathing heavily, legs apart, her almost bare body on the playing surface of the table. Jeff admired the sight of her. Her pussy was shaven except for a thin line of hair leading up from the line where her labia met. He noticed the suntan marks showing that she had worn bikini bottoms on her trip just big enough to hide her intimate parts.

"I'm dying for you, Jeff." Becca pulled her towards him by his cock. "Now that's nice, Jeff. You're lovely and firm."

"Because you turn me on, Becca. Always have."

"Oh, fuck me, Jeff...please."

Becca shuffled, feeling her bottom against the cushion on the side of the table. Jeff lifted up her legs, his thighs against the side of the table. She reached between her legs for his shaft and, with some urgency, they were joined, his erection guided into Becca by her hand.

Jeff knew this was what he'd wanted so much. Becca was staring at him, mouth open, one hand on his side as she urged him to fuck her hard. The feeling of her heat and moistness on him was arousing him more.

"So good, Bec."

"I know...you and me...I wanted this."

This was carnal. It wasn't going to be some elongated act of lovemaking. There was too much pent-up passion to be released for that.

Instead, their bodies slapped together as Becca's thighs and bums smacked against Jeff's hips and groin, accompanied by moans and murmurs from both of them as they fulfilled this urge to have each other.

"Jeff...Jeff." Becca was trying to speak as they fucked.

"Yes, you bloody gorgeous woman." They were bucking furiously as their needs were being satisfied.

"Don't come in me, Jeff. I wasn't expecting we'd do this. Pull out when you're close."

"OK. I'm...I'm nearly...."

Jeff sped up and Becca was going with it, grinding into him.

Then, Jeff pulled back and withdrew. Following up with a quick, powerful wanking motion as Becca stared at his glans with some concentration, he spurted come over her, surprising himself with how much he'd produced, his semen flicking across her skirt and body.

"Oh, Jeff, I've waited so long for you." They kissed deeply as Jeff softened, the smell of sex between them. They stayed together for a few minutes, enjoying the ride back down to normality.

Eventually, Becca pulled herself off the table, cleaning herself with tissues Jeff got from the bar and, together, they got themselves back together, at least enough to not look like they just banged each other's brains out!

"We'd better go."

Becca mused. "Well, at least, I got to play with some balls on a snooker table, even if I didn't need a cue!"

Jeff laughed, tidied up at the bar and switched the lights off there. He was just about to reach for the light over the table when...

"What's that, Becca." Jeff stared at the table they'd just been having sex on.

"What can you see?

He pointed "That."

Becca went over and...

"Shit, Jeff, it's your spunk."

Sitting, on the playing surface of the table to be used in quarter final 2 in about 9 hours time, just near the green spot, was an exuberant splat of semen.

As the two organisers of the tournament, they were suspended in paralysing fear for a moment as they realised that, not only had they fucked each other, they'd fucked the table too.

Becca clicked into gear. "There must a ladder round the back, Jeff."

"What are you thinking, Bec?"

"Are you prepared to be devious?"

"In order to deflect from the two organisers possibly wrecking their own tournament by screwing each other on the playing surface....yes."

"OK" Becca looked up "Those, Jeff, are suspended ceiling panels. If one of them were to come loose and drop on the table..."

"The table would be out of action and have to be re-covered. We could cover that under insurance."

"Exactly, Jeff, ex-actly."

There followed a determined gathering of stepladder and tools, not dissimilar to how they'd dealt with unexpected calamities in tournaments in the past.

A few minutes later, Jeff was up the ladder, unsecuring the panel directly above the corner of the table in question which was creating dust on the table below. Thankfully, the panels looked old enough that one dropping off wouldn't have been the most unusual thing to happen.

Whilst Jeff was doing his best to create an accident, Becca held the ladder and mused on two things.

1) Holding a large aluminium ladder whilst the man she'd just loved fucking broke a ceiling panel was not quite the post-orgasmic haze she had anticipated after throwing herself at him an hour ago, although she was pleased he responded, and

2) She was amazed how her bare arse and moist pussy had managed to not to make a single mark on the baize cloth, Jeff's flying sperm being the solitary reason they were now in this predicament. It occurred to her that she'd enjoy the feeling of him firing his load into her the next time...

because there will be a next time now...

mmm...yes.

"Bec....Bec!"

Becca snapped back into the room. Jeff trying to hand tools back down to her.

"Right, I'm ready. Bec. Giving it a push now."

One shove was all it needed and the light plastic panel landed on the table. Years of dust and, he noted, the odd grease mark deposited on the table thankfully obliterating signs of Jeff's sexual misfire.

Becca and Jeff had an arm round each other, smiling gently at their handiwork, an unfortunate incident perfectly manufactured to cover up their errant sexual adventure.

"They'll never know, Jeff." She said as she kissed him.

"Oh, I think we'll be alright." Jeff smiled, in the knowledge that "Harry's Cue Club", might well have had cameras mounted on the walls, but they were purely for show.

Everything was put back as it was found, lights turned off, alarm set and locked up.

Only a walk away, Becca and Jeff were staying in the same hotel.

As they got to the lift, Becca grabbed Jeff and kissed him.

"Room 25. Bring your clothes for tomorrow and your phone. I think we'll need it."

It was 2am and, whilst the idea of another enthusiastic shag was a great idea, the events had taken their toll so their first hours sharing a bed were spent sleeping, intertwined together, naked.

Just after 8am, Jeff's phone was ringing. It pulled him out of his dream.

It was from the club, saying how there been an accident and, although now a table was out of action due to a fallen ceiling panel, the rest were OK so, as long as any one match didn't go on too long, they could get the tournament finished. Becca and Jeff's morning hustled into action as they saw the tournament through to a successful conclusion, despite the "calamity".

They caught up with each other as the final was being played.

"Bec, we got away with that, didn't we."

"Just about. Time for me to visit the docs."

"Oh no, why?"

"Because it seems the only place where we can be safe that your come isn't going to hit anything it shouldn't is if you let it go inside me bareback, which I will enjoy immensely!"

She winked at him. "But in the meantime..."

"It's the love gloves for me then isn't it, Bec."

"Not all the time, Jeff." Becca tapped a finger on her lips. "I have a mouth and...perhaps...a bum, too -- if you fancy it?"

Jeff was in for the time of his life.