But then, instead of leaving with her trophy, she started tolook through the pile of clothing I'd acquired."You've got such nice taste sweetie. Bet yo... look really cute in yourundies, eh?"And she held up some of the bras and garter belts I'd managed toaccumulate, putting some on her own pile. Most of the women were toobusy to care what she was doing, but a few grinned at my publichumiliation.She finally left, but it took almost another twenty minutes of furiousdigging in through the lingerie. My attitude was different now since I had masturbated for the first time that day holding her bra. She used to reciprocate, kissing and hugging me; it’s difficult to explain what I felt as she stuck her body to mine, though, along with the spectacular big boos crushed against my chest. She would say: “Oh, darling, no more hugging or I won’t have the time to cook dinner for you.” I loved her way to address me, using these words like honey, darling; it sounds erotic, and my reply came back. I broke. I never missed a shot. Thelittle shit never got a shot!His friend challenged me to a game and racked the balls. He was worse that his friend, betting me $50 that I couldn't do that again. I pocketed the $50 when the game was over and looked around for another opponent. Anyone who had been watching didn't wantto waste his quarters. It was pretty stupid to annihil-ate the two guys like I did. I racked up the balls and started a practice game alone. I made some great shots but made sure. Eventually I moved to the UK and married a good looking but sadistic guy called Greg who very quickly realised the kind of girl I really was and exploited my feelings for his own benefit whenever he got the chance. We were regular members of a swingers circle and I quickly absorbed myself in the company of guys who were prepared to satisfy my particular tastes. Greg and I had long ago fallen out of love with each other but he took enormous delight in sharing me with his friends and strangers.