But outside of her tits, there wasn't an ounce of fat on the woman. She could have been a model, so perfect were her face and figure.

"Why's he keep trying? I'd think he would give up after a game or two with her. She's pretty, that I've got to admit, but just to beat her at one game of pool he's been trying a year? That doesn't make sense."

"Well, yeah, it does if you know the full story. You see, this isn't just any pool hall. It's no cathouse, believe me. Nothing like that. But if a guy beats one of the chicks, he, uh, gets to spend an hour with her. And that bozo has had this thing for Cyndi ever since I can remember."

Susan eyed the man. He was playing straight pool and not doing very well. Cyndi was ahead 132-10. About the only thing Susan could see that was straight about the game was the guy's cock. Every shot Cyndi took was a bank shot. It was almost as if she were leading the guy on, trying hard shots to give him a break.

As if reading Susan's mind, Cat said, "Cyndi's good at it. She makes it look like she wants the guy to win. But he never does. But, hey, look over there. Linda and that pool hustler. I thought she'd get beat when she took him on. Let's go on upstairs."

"I… I still don't think I understand. All these women work for my father, right? But they're not whores?"

"Of course not. It's just like losing a bet with them. Most of them are good enough to give any guy a run for his money. It's the challenge that keeps the men coming back. Like that sucker who's been lusting after Cyndi's luscious bod all this time. Your father pockets the money off the table fees."

"But what do the women get out of it? Except screwed?"