Check out the stocky guy by the pool tables
From Create Your Own Story
Beer in hand, you walk over to the pool tables, and grab a pool cue from the rack. You turn to the stocky guy - he's wearing a t-shirt across his wide chest that says "L&M Landscaping," which explains the workboots and the grass stains - and gesture to the free table. Up close, you realize that other than a beer belly, most of his mass is pure muscle; his bulky frame dwarfs your small, slim body. He's fairly average-looking, sort of plain with thinning hair and an overlarge nose. But he's rugged, with a few days worth of unkempt stubble, and he oozes masculinity. You also can't help but notice the very substantial bulge in his dirty jeans.
"Want to play?"
He says "sure" and racks up the balls, then gestures for you to break. You do so, but don't manage to sink anything.
He lines up a shot, and says, "Don't think I've seen you here before."
You shake your head as he starts sinking striped balls. He's probably a better player than you, you realize. "My first time here," you tell him. "It's my birthday. I just turned 18."
He smiles, and misses his next shot. You take your turn and do fairly well.
The game continues with smalltalk, and you learn his name is Len, and he is the "L" in L&M Landscaping, along with his uncle. He may not be the best looking guy, but he has a macho, working-class charm about him that you find appealing... and a more than a little sexy. You catch him checking out your tight little ass, and can't help but be a little flirty as you finish your beer, leaning far over the table to take a shot. You surprise yourself by making it, but miss the next.
"So, the big 18th birthday, eh?" Len grins at you as he lines up his shot.
"Mmhmm. Gifts welcome."
"Oh?" Len muses. "Is that right? You want a gift?"
"Sure..."
Len cocks his eyebrow and looks at you hard.
"Yeah? We talkin' about the same thing here, kid? You're awfully young to be... gifted."
You blush hard and look at the floor. You're not usually this forward when you're showing interest in a guy. But the thought of getting fucked by Len really turns you on. He looks like the kind of stud who knows how to top a boy good and rough.
"I'm old enough..."
Len proceeds to sink all but one of his stripes, but misses the difficult shot. You manage to catch up, and realize that you've got a chance at sinking the eight ball, but it's a pretty improbable shot.
And then, oddly, all the lights in the room grow dim.
“It’s Friday night!” a man’s voice announces over some sort of speaker. “Time for Blackout at the Midtown Pub!”
The bar has been filling up for some time, and at the dimming, there are cheers. You look around, confused.
“Blackout night,” Len says, over the hoots and hollers.
“What’s blackout night?” you ask.
He laughs. “Once a month, they turn down the lights and people mess around.”
"Wow," you say.
Len laughs, and slaps at his pockets, eventually finding a crushed pack of cigarettes and a lighter. But when he flicks the lighter, the bartender's voice calls out, "No smoking!" Len curses, and flicks the lighter shut.
Then he nods at you. "Why don't we make the game interesting?"
You look at the shot, now even harder in the dimmer light. "Like, a bet?"
"Yeah," Len says.
"Like, loser buys the winner a beer?" you ask.
"Sure," Len says, then lowers his voice. "Or maybe a favor."
You say...
