"We're starting a game in a minute," said the one in the leather waist coat. "You in?"
Jack stretched across. He grabbed the girl by the cheeks of her arse and pulled her closer to him.
"What we playing?"
There was a communal smile and much rubbing of hands. "The usual," came the reply. "Three card, but no going blind. It's too easy to lose a fucking bomb."
Without having to be asked the barman brought across a deck of cards and informed them the back room was open. Within moments of the party entering the dingy room, a crate of Grolsch and other beers was brought in. Everyone selected a drink, then the men sat at the table while the hiker flopped onto a green leather settee that released a cloud of damp smelling dust in protest at her weight.
Although she wasn't watching the game, it was obvious from the start that Jack was not having the best of luck. She heard him swear several times and on one of her many trips to fetch him a beer she saw his money depleting at a rapid rate.
Over the next couple of hours or so the room began to warm up but the atmosphere between the men had grown icy. The witty quips and mock laughs were replaced with grunts and throaty mutterings of 'lucky bastard'. The sun tried its best to lift the gloom but a veneer of mould smeared the only window, projecting a green glow into the room that was broken only by the single sixty watt bulb that hung a few feet above the stained baize table top.
The hiker finished her bottle and let it drop with a clatter onto the small pile of others gathering on the floor. It was then she noticed the men were no longer playing and a silence had descended over the table. The three strangers were all looking at Jack, who was rubbing his forehead in deep concentration.
"In or out?" asked one of the three in a firm voice. It was Smackers, the guy in the waistcoat who she had considered to be Jack's friend, but the tone of his words suggested he was a man in for the kill. She picked up another bottle and went across to stand by Jack as another man, the one wearing a heavy metal buckle shaped like an American eagle spoke.
"He's skint man, wiped out."
Only Jack and Smackers were left in the game. His opponent saw Jack's dilemma but now wasn't the time for sympathy. With a sneer he reached out to grab the money.
"Wait!" shouted Jack. "There's no time limit. I've got the money."
"Where?" said his opponent. "I'm not waiting for you to go half way across Leeds. You're out of cash. Tough shit, that's the way it goes."
Jack had to walk a fine line. If he made out how good a hand he had Smackers would insist on finishing now. If he played on the man's greed he would allow him some time in the hope of winning even more. First though, he had to get some money, and he knew how. Grabbing the girl around her waist he pulled her towards him then rubbed his hand across her stomach. It was flat except for the ridge of her fur covered quim. Jack turned to the men either side of Smackers.
"She'll fuck you dry for thirty a piece."
"Get away!"
"Believe me! Gave her a walloping earlier. She'll do it, no sweat." He twisted her ear. "Right?"
"Ow!" she said. "Right!"
Both men swallowed hard in unison, their necks looking like a python having its dinner. The hiker clearly didn't want to be the main course and began pulling away from Jack. But Jack had a hundred of his own money lying on the table, not to mention that of the others.
"Come here," he growled, making it quite clear to the girl he was in no mood to be refused. He reached for her skirt and yanked it down to her knees.
"No knickers?" exclaimed Smackers.
"Got torn, right?"
"Right!" agreed the girl, before he could hit her.
"Clock that for a snatch," Jack said. "Get your meat up there and you won't regret it."
The hiker remained by his side, obviously frightened at the turn of events.
"Thirty notes is a lot of readies," complained Jim in the Yankee belt. "You could strump Carol up against the dartboard for a tenner."
Jack stood up and moved behind the girl where he pulled up her jumper and lifted her tits.
"Bra get torn too?" asked Smakers.
The girl glanced at Jack. "Right!" she said, as he lifted his meaty hand.
"Carol's an old fucking rottweiler," Jack said. "She's had more pricks than the fucking dartboard. Are her mams as nice as these?" He gave the girl's tits a firm squeeze then ran his hand down to her mons. She did nothing to prevent him, even when his fingers probed past her lips and up inside. Both men had seen enough to make up their minds. They left Smackers at the table to join Jack behind the girl. He pushed her forward until her elbows rested on the table then Jim opened her arse cheeks for a clearer look before nodding okay to Jack. The money changed hands and the hiker was stripped and taken back over to the settee.
"I'll fuck her first," said Jim, undoing his belt.
His mate already had his dick in his hand. "That's fine by me," he laughed. "She can chew on this while you cream her twat."
Jim bent her over until her face was inches from his friend's cock then slipped his own dick up inside her. Both pricks disappeared into her at the same time.
She was whimpering, but she did not try to get away.
At the table the game continued while the two men took it in turns with Jack's hiker, until her whimpering got so distracting that Jack had to take his belt to her.
They both decided she should swallow their cum as well as have it up her before the final bet was made and the hands laid out on the baize.
Smackers smile soon disappeared when Jack dropped his prile of sevens down on top of his flush. By the time he'd picked up all the winnings the girl was getting dressed. Jack noticed spunk in her hair and decided he would add his own to it the moment he got her back to the rig, although the look she gave him suggested the last thing she wanted was another man between her thighs.
"What you so pissed off for?" Jack asked her back in the bar.
The girl looked at him in disgust.
"What do you think?" she hissed. "You sold me like a fucking whore in there, you dirty bastard."
Jack knocked the top off another Grolsch and handed it to her, a determined glare on his face.
"You're getting free grub and booze. You got nothing to moan about." He took a gulp from his own bottle then turned back. "So a few guys got their cock up you. Who gives a shit?"
The hiker was about to reply who did, when Smackers came over. He had calmed down a lot since the card game but the tension was still obvious. He moved close up to Jack, a nervous smile protecting his true thoughts.
"Good game Jack," he said. "You always were a jammy bastard." He pointed towards the hiker without looking at her. "I've got about thirty notes left, if she's still on the market?"
Jack said nothing while Smackers forced the girl tight against the wall and began caressing her tits. She didn't like it but there was no escape. His hand dropped lower and forced its way between her legs while several of the working girls stopped playing pool in order to watch.
"Jack," the girl pleaded. "Tell him. Those girls are watching us. Jack!"
Finally Jack spoke. "Sorry Smacks," he said. "We've got to go". He nodded across to the other girls in the bar. They were looking over, concerned that Jack had brought in a younger tart who was taking their business. He took hold of the hiker and began leading her to the door shouting back to Smackers as he went. "Carol'll give you a gobble for a fiver."
The working girl to whom he alluded shot out two fingers followed by advice to 'go fuck himself'. Jack gave her a playful wave and opened the door.
"See you at the passover!" he shouted to Smackers, then stepped out into the street.
Back at Mapleys the girl asked Jack what he meant when he said 'see you at the passover'.
"It's a sort of ceremony."
"What, religious ceremony?"
"Sort of." Jack pushed her up to the cab. "Now get in there and get your kit off. I've got a wad in my pocket and it's not just Smacker's money."