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Author’s note: All sexual acts portrayed in this story are between characters aged 18 or older. Any resemblance to non-fictional people and events is neither intended by the author nor inferred by the text.
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A Girl Under Glass
It’s March of 2005, my senior year of high school. The savory scent of fresh-baked pizza is hovering in the air, beneath the cigarette smoke and the cheap beer. It’s just another night at the Cornerstone Pub — everyone comes to the Cornerstone Pub. In this podunk Florida town, there’s nowhere else to go for a good time.
The bar is packed and the lighting is dim — nobody ever bothers looking too closely at the fake IDs. All that matters is having fun, spending money on pool and booze. And pinball, of course. The owner loves his pinball machines.
It’s October of 2019. I’m three years into managing the Olympus Pizza joint in Jacksonville. It’s my first time making it out to Chicago for the annual PinballCon. The air is thick with all manner of bells and whistles and flashing lights. Every space is packed with bodies, all leaning and rocking over the tables lined up and down every wall.
The convention hall is crowded with booths and exhibits. Some tables are restored museum pieces, decades old and still playable. Some are homebrew machines, hand-built by enthusiasts for fun and/or profit. Some are used tables looking for buyers, and some are fresh off the assembly line.
I told my staff I was coming here to check out new tables for the restaurant. But honestly, I only came here to see one.
“Theatre of Magic” is a decade old by now, and it still works perfectly. The rotating Magic Trunk, the magnets, the hidden passages and gimmicks… there was always something in this game to discover. And over it all, there’s the Lady Magician looking down from the backglass, her movements animated on the dot-matrix screen and her voice piped in through the speakers.
The Lady Magician felt like a partner, or perhaps a mentor. The game and I weren’t playing to beat each other; we were working together to levitate the woman, to escape from the death trap.
“Concentrate!” she’d tell me. “You have the magic!” Only this time, she’s not talking to me — she’s talking to the girl who’s racking up her 8X bonus multiplier while the guy next to her looks like his wallet just exploded.
I bought that exact same “Theatre of Magic” table. It’s in my restaurant right now, and it still plays like a charm.
Modern cell phones, computers, and video game consoles are all built to fall apart within five or ten years at most. Video games nowadays are shipped out with game-ending glitches on day one. But pinball machines — even the most modern ones — were built to last for decades. Midway, Bally, Williams, Data East, Gottlieb, and so many other pinball titans are all either gone or folded into other companies, and their games have outlived them all.
Yet the last few surviving companies need drastic measures to survive. Which brought me to the booth at Howard Brothers Pinball, and the grand debut of their newest game.
I first met Agatha Mars when she moved to town in November of my freshman year. Her dad traveled a lot for work, so Aggie and her mom traveled all around the world. Finally, after 9/11, Aggie’s mom decided she’d had enough of travel, so she took Aggie to live with family in town while her dad moved on.
Aggie’s always the center of attention everywhere she goes. She’s beautiful, she’s confident, she’s got stories from all over the world. (How many of them are true? Who cares?!) Whatever she wants — lead role in the school play, captain of the debate team, whatever guy she had a thing for — she can charm her way into getting it.
And tonight, she’s at the Cornerstone Pub. She comes here at least once a week to hustle at pinball. Everyone expects a pretty girl to hustle them at pool. Nobody expects to get hustled at pinball.
Pinball companies make licensed games all the time, but the latest from HB Pinball was so insane that its announcement shook the industry: A licensed game with X+O Media, the online porn empire. Company spokesmen argued that adult-themed pinball tables were not unprecedented — there were at least two Playboy-themed pinball tables on record, and numerous obscure EM games with softcore gimmicks.
But this would be something different. The team at HB Pinball said that they were going to take the experience of having sex with an award-winning porn star and adapt it into a pinball game. Everyone said they were crazy. Then came the announcement that none of the inserts or pictures would be explicit, so a “family” version of the table could be sold simply by swapping out the code and the video clips. Now everyone knew they were crazy.
Yet everyone in the expo came here to the booth. Everyone showed their IDs to the doorman, bahis firmaları passed the beaded curtain with the “21+ ONLY” sign out front, to come try out “X+O Media with Ramona Lauder”. This booth has at least a dozen tables ready for play, all of them set with the “Hardcore” code and videos, like we all knew it was meant to be played. I see at least two or three people hunched around each table, but I’m looking up at the backglass.
Every lunch break, I’d hope to look into those smiling brown eyes, even for just a split-second.
Those exact same chocolate brown eyes were looking down at me from every angle. Her sweet heart-shaped face hadn’t aged a wrinkle.
I sat behind her in Social Studies, her dark brown hair right in front of my face.
There’s not a single grey hair to be seen.
Aggie always wears her most skintight clothes to the Cornerstone Pub, so everyone’s too focused on those killer curves and that perfect tan.
She’s wearing a bright pink bra and matching panties. She’s gained a few pounds in the past few years, and they all went right to her curves.
I go to the table with the shortest line. While I’m waiting, I read the instructions and carefully watch the gameplay. This is standard practice for any new game. It’s important to know how to score, which shots do what, and which shots tend to miss. I try not to focus on the flatscreen built directly into the playfield, under the clear coating. I try to tune out the euphoric moans coming from the speakers of every table around me.
Everyone knew Aggie was the local slut. If all the rumors are true, she’s slept with everyone in the school. Her latest fling is Jimmy Andrews, getting impatient and jealous while Aggie runs up the score on “Theatre of Magic.” By the time she’s won her bet and taken her money, Jimmy’s already gone. My hand-me-down ’95 Accord isn’t much, but it’s a car.
I offer to drive Aggie home, but that’s not where we’re going. She directs me to a street of identical houses, all stuck in construction for months.
It’s finally my turn to play. The table’s on Free Play, so I immediately press the Start button. The table goes dark as a disclaimer appears on the screen: The usual schpiel about how the game is unsuitable for minors, you must be older than 18 to proceed, blah blah blah. I don’t even read the disclaimer before I press the “Start” button again.
When I press the button, I hear a doorbell chime. The screen underneath the playfield cuts to somebody’s front door.
Aggie takes me by the hand and leads me in, as we climb through the plastic sheeting that covers a front window.
I faintly hear a pinball pop into the shooter lane as Ramona Lauder opens the door with those deep brown eyes and that bright devilish grin.
“This isn’t your house, is it?” I ask her.
She shakes her head in pity. “You don’t know what this place is? Seriously?”
I remember the address: 2212 Langford Drive. I’d heard rumors of a house where people went to make out. I guess Aggie sees the realization dawning on my face, because she takes me by the hand, leading me deeper into the house.
“Come on, big guy,” purrs Ramona. “Let’s play.”
“Come on, big guy,” purrs Aggie. “Let’s play.”
I see Ramona on the playfield in crystal-clear 1080p. We’re in a spotless bedroom somewhere. The walls are white, the bedsheets are red, and she’s wearing a sleek black dress on perfectly tanned skin.
There are no lights in this half-finished house. I hear the creaks of our footsteps and the soft huffs of our breath. I can’t see where I’m going, I just follow the warm touch of her hand on mine. We come to a room and she turns on a lantern that’s been left there.
“You wanna mess around?” she asks me. “I won’t ask twice.”
“Player One, don’t keep me waiting.”
I tear my eyes away from the sight of Ramona sitting on the bed, ready to go. I take stock of the game’s layout, all themed around the fantasy of having sex with the legendary porn star. Above the left outlane is the nightstand — dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, multiballs, and mystery awards, all hiding behind a scoop and a “XXX” target bank.
Above the right outlane is a “OOO” target bank. If I light those up, I’d have Ramona jerking me off, sucking me dry… I could even have my cock between her lubed-up tits.
The center target is a bed — it’s a bash toy above another target bank, there to boost the value of each shot. But I’m not playing for points right now.
There’s a secondhand (probably more like a fifth-hand) mattress on the floor. The room is otherwise remarkably clean — I can’t see any beer cans or used condoms or anything.
I’m afraid to ask, but I have to. “Why me?”
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she says, reclining on the mattress. “Do you?”
I pull back the plunger, timing the kaçak iddaa release with the rollover lights on the shooter lane. With all three lit at the same time, I let the ball fly.
“Mm, you’ve got skill!” she moans, as I make the skill shot. The ball drops down to the right flipper and I hit it straight to the left orbit.
“Ooh, super skill shot!” she moans louder. I barely notice the ball moving or the score going up. Ramona’s lifting up her dress, groping her ass.
I’m making out with Agatha Mars. I don’t even question it, I don’t want to break the illusion of her lips on mine. Her hands under my shirt. My hands caressing the divine curves of her backside.
The ball loops around the orbit, back to the right flipper, and I shoot it straight back into the left orbit. With every loop, Ramona is shaking and squeezing and jiggling her ass. Her moans get higher and higher with the combo.
“Wow, impressive!” The letters “R-A-M” light up on the playfield. There’s a bonus for getting all three in the same combo. I don’t even notice the score as Ramona plays with the hem of her dress, lifting it highe enough to show off her jiggling ass in those lace panties.
My hands are on her waist. I’m nervous about going any further, but then I feel her tongue in my mouth. I push my tongue deeper into her mouth as I move my hands up higher under her shirt.
Finally, a shot goes wide and I hit the nightstand. I pound the table and work the flippers, scrambling for control of the ball. I could start a mode now, but I’m not done playing with Ramona just yet. When I finally have the ball cradled, I shoot for the right ramp. I shoot it again and again. Every time the ball goes up and around, and as it zig-zags back toward the left flipper, I see Ramona playing with her nipples through the fabric of her dress.
“Ooh! Ohhh! Ahhh, you’re amazing!” Another combo, the letters “L-A-U” lit up under the right ramp. And by now, Ramona’s nipples are hard enough that I can see those erect stubs through her dress.
I lift up Aggie’s shirt. When she’s done peeling it off, I move her bra straps down to get all the room I can while I’m kissing her neck. I know I’d look like an idiot trying to take her bra off, so I clumsily rub and massage her firm breasts through the fabric cups.
Enough foreplay — it’s time for what I really came for. There’s a scoop between the center target and the right ramp, and it’s been lit up for long enough. I shank the shot. The ball goes into the inner orbit, through the spinner, and into the pop bumpers.
Ramona rubs her pussy in time with the rotating spinner. She cries out with every impact as the ball ricochets between the three pop bumpers. But her panties are still on. I have to fix that.
Aggie flips the both of us over, kissing me as she pulls my shirt off. I’m writhing at the unfamiliar sensual touch of her lips on my flesh. She takes her time enjoying this as she moves down my chest, my navel, and on to my crotch.
I can’t for the life of me hit that scoop. Somehow, every shot hits the center target, racking up playfield bonuses I don’t give a shit about. Ramona doesn’t seem to mind.
“Ooh, that feels so good!” The bash toy shakes, suggestively rattling the bed with every shot to the center target. Ramona sways her hips in a suggestive way, caressing every curve as the ball comes down and bounces between the slingshots.
“What have you got for me here?” A slingshot sent the ball straight to an “O” target. I’m scrambling to get back in control while Ramona is rubbing the bulge of my pants.
I move my hands back toward her breasts — she takes my hands and holds them away, never taking her lips off my chest.
“No, no, no,” she softly chides me, with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Hey, slow down!” A tilt warning. I could swear I didn’t shake the table that hard.
I reflexively take my hands off the machine, watching Ramona rub my cock as the ball goes down into the drain. The hell with it — time for a change of plans. I start the second ball with another skill shot, just to hear her say again how awesome I am.
I watch Ramona squeeze her ass and rub her nipples, voicing her pleasure with every shot as I miss that right target bank. Finally, all three “O” targets light up and Ramona kneels down to the bulge in my pants.
Aggie’s unzipping my pants and my breath is already short. She takes her time, slowly rubbing the bulge in my shorts. We both feel it throbbing, getting warmer and harder. She pulls down my shorts and she gasps at the sight of my dick. Her mouth is practically watering already. I don’t even care if she’s faking it. The most beautiful girl in the world, the first girl who’s ever seen me naked, and she wants to keep going.
I watch as Ramona pulls down my shorts and a giant cock springs up to greet her. Her eyes go wide and she takes my manhood in her hand. “Ooh, kaçak bahis you’re so big! Can you get it hard for me?”
I watch her spit dribble down onto the head of my piece. She strokes me nice and slow. I know she’s teasing me, I want her to go faster, but she pushes my hands away again. I feel her hand gently gripping my shaft, stroking me up and down. My manhood is aching as it gets harder and longer.
I could rack up shots while the 2X playfield multiplier is active. I could cradle the ball and watch Ramona as she strokes to get me long and hard. There’s a timer counting down from 45 seconds until the handjob ends. Luckily, more time is added every time I hit an “O” target.
My breathing gets shallow as I see Aggie kneeling closer to my cock. I squirm as she slowly, deliberately licks the underside of my shaft, from the balls all the way to the head. I gasp every time she darts her tongue across my swollen, sensitive tip.
The slingshots save me again, sending the ball directly into the third “O” target.
Finally, Aggie puts my cock in her mouth, wrapping her smiling ruby lips tightly around my tip.
I hear Ramona playfull call out “Blowjob Multiball!” even as she takes my cock into her mouth. The shooter lane sends two more balls into the playfield, rolling on the screen that shows Ramona on her knees, effortlessly deep-throating my entire length.
I feel her tongue and her spit coating my rod. I feel her lips moving back and forth, smoothly picking up the pace with every passing second of bliss. Her soft, tight fingers are jerking my shaft up and down. I won’t move to touch her, but I can’t stop my hips from bucking into her face — she doesn’t seem to mind that.
I’ve finally got control. Two balls cradled in the left flipper and one in the right flipper — nothing on the playfield but Ramona expertly sucking me off. I see the bliss in her eyes as she takes my manhood into her mouth, savoring every inch I have to give her.
I can feel myself throbbing against her tongue. I feel her lips and her fingers pressing all around my manhood. I can feel her moaning with my cock in her mouth.
I take my time with every lit shot, faintly noticing more letters lighting up on the playfield, savoring the lust in Ramona’s voice every time she moans “Jackpot!” I’m mesmerized by the sight of my cock going back and forth, in and out of her mouth, smooth as silk. She could keep sucking me off forever, just like this. I don’t even notice the double-drain until the last minute, and my third ball is lost while I struggle for control.
She takes my cock out of her mouth, but she doesn’t quit stroking me. I’m still on my back, completely naked, and she’s still clothed.
“You ready to fuck?” she asks me. I can only nod.
She leans in closer, her cheek on mine, her lips brushing my ear. “I want to hear you say it.”
The last ball of the game pops into the shooter lane. I don’t even bother with the skill shot this time — I know what I want, and I’m getting it.
Aggie takes a condom out of her back pocket and hands it to me. “Here, put this on.”
I finally shoot the ball into that damn scoop, and a menu appears on the playfield, below Ramona. I let the timer run as Ramona finally drops her dress to the floor.
Aggie turns away from me, bending over and jerking her ass side to side, shimmying out of her skintight jean shorts. She stands up so I can see the moment her bra unclasps. But she holds the loose bra to her chest, teasing me as she turns around.
She’s got nothing on but black lace panties. I can see the iconic rose tattoo on her left hip.
I feel her plain cotton panties on my swollen rod as she straddles me, getting my face close and tight to her chest as she throws her bra to the side.
Every day for the past fifteen years, I thanked God that Ramona never went for fake breasts. She only ever had A-cups, but they were so firm and so perky, she could keep on playing a teenager well into her twenties. Her caramel nipples were so perfectly placed, so distinct, so beautifully shaped, why stretch them out with implants? And anyway, her ass was always the real moneymaker.
She grinds her crotch against mine for a few seconds. Even through her panties, I feel her moist warmth against my cock and I’m aching with need. I feel her thick, powerful thighs rubbing on mine, rocking that round, supple ass back and forth against my engorged rod.
Ramona lies down on the bed, face-up. With that mischievous glint in her eye, she stretches her legs skyward and peels off her panties. I step between her legs and she’s spreading open a tight shaven pussy.
Aggie takes my hands, putting them on her hips. I take the invitation and I slide down her panties to see a thick, glorious bush of dark brown curls.
Thanks to that last multiball, the name “R-A-M O-N-A L-A-U D-E-R” is now fully lit on the playfield. Doggy, missionary, cowgirl, and reverse cowgirl — four modes unlocked. I make my selection with the flippers. I know exactly how I want her, and I want her face-up with her sweet, statuesque ass on the edge of the bed.
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