let his mind go any further in the fantasy of her, he would find himself at a full erection and no way to hide it. She took her shot and made it. She had three balls left on the table to his six. She stood, did a cute little wink and double click with her tongue from the side of her mouth. Um-hm, lady. You’re smug now. Let’s see how smug you are when I sit you on that table with “Otis” nudging at your door, my tongue in your mouth, and the cheeks of your firm ass in my hands.
“Argh! I hate it when I miss an easy shot like that!” Sylvia exclaimed, stepping back from the table to give him his shot.
“Yeah, sure. Obviously you invited me here to show off what a pool shark you are,” he spoke as if serious but okay with it. Sylvia grinned. “Who, me, a pool shark? Not hardly. I just find the game enjoyable and relaxing. You play pretty good,” she offered, trying to keep from crowing at the high of whipping him in pool. She loved to win, and in this, she was doing just that. Or so she thought.
“Thanks,” he responded, just so, making a shot that looked unplanned by an amateur of course—and missed. The appropriate deep sigh followed. Sylvia bit into her bottom lip not to laugh out.
“You’ll learn. Just be patient, and draw the geometric lines in your mind. The cause and effect of alignment and impact,” she advised, trying not to sound like she was bragging on her skill.
“Oh, now I’m getting a lesson in physics, hm?” he grumped sourly.
“I'm just saying, besides, physics help.” She profiled with her stick lined up for a shot then winked at him, took it, and hit dead on with the ball taking the side pocket with a resounding knock at the rail before she sunk it. “What can I say?” Now that was a blatant brag.
He hid the sinister grin behind narrowed eyes. Obviously she didn’t understand the magnitude of that kiss. Nor the way it made him feel. If nothing else, this lady had his lust meter flicking madly in the hot zone. As much as he hated admitting it, it was much more than that. Than lust. I might have taken sympathy on you, lady, but there’s a lesson to be learned here, and "teach" is going to give you one you’ll not soon forget.
“Em-hmm. No big deal. It’s just pool...anybody can learn to play pool and win. If you ask me, it’s a game for wussies. If I wanted to, I could beat you. I just don’t want to,” he said, aimed and missed the next shot.
“Ach!” Sylvie sounded. “Say what? Wussies?” she simpered, then chuckled. “You just mad 'cause you can’t play,” she furthered. “I brought you down here, fed you that good and tender steak, and you know it was good—wudn’it?” she prodded for affirmation. He nodded, looking her in the eyes.
“Yeah, it was good, if I must say so myself.” Take it nice and slow…she’s about to set up the knock down…just let her lead you, and you follow her right in, he coached himself silently.
“Doggone right it was good! Nice, fresh-tossed salad. Perfectly baked potato, I might add and dessert is waiting,” she continued to boast.
You better believe it, baby, and it’s gonna be sweet, he thought in anticipation. “Now, having said that, the least you could do…” She had that black pride feeling raising its ugly head. Her gestures, drag and motion, just too confident. “I said, the least you could do, is take this whippin’ like a man. I ain’t gone hurt ya bad, just a lil’ spankin’. You like spankings, don’tcha?” She grinned, then laughed out as she set up the last two shots and sunk them both, and without hesitation she polished off the 8-ball in the corner pocket. Her finale was a little victory dance, crowing in her joy and laughter. Oh, but he played his part well. “Oh, I see how you are now. Didn’t your mama ever teach you when you play a game with a man, you're suppose to let him win?”
“My mama never taught me no such thing,” she returned, with hands on hips and attitude high.
"Well
“Argh! I hate it when I miss an easy shot like that!” Sylvia exclaimed, stepping back from the table to give him his shot.
“Yeah, sure. Obviously you invited me here to show off what a pool shark you are,” he spoke as if serious but okay with it. Sylvia grinned. “Who, me, a pool shark? Not hardly. I just find the game enjoyable and relaxing. You play pretty good,” she offered, trying to keep from crowing at the high of whipping him in pool. She loved to win, and in this, she was doing just that. Or so she thought.
“Thanks,” he responded, just so, making a shot that looked unplanned by an amateur of course—and missed. The appropriate deep sigh followed. Sylvia bit into her bottom lip not to laugh out.
“You’ll learn. Just be patient, and draw the geometric lines in your mind. The cause and effect of alignment and impact,” she advised, trying not to sound like she was bragging on her skill.
“Oh, now I’m getting a lesson in physics, hm?” he grumped sourly.
“I'm just saying, besides, physics help.” She profiled with her stick lined up for a shot then winked at him, took it, and hit dead on with the ball taking the side pocket with a resounding knock at the rail before she sunk it. “What can I say?” Now that was a blatant brag.
He hid the sinister grin behind narrowed eyes. Obviously she didn’t understand the magnitude of that kiss. Nor the way it made him feel. If nothing else, this lady had his lust meter flicking madly in the hot zone. As much as he hated admitting it, it was much more than that. Than lust. I might have taken sympathy on you, lady, but there’s a lesson to be learned here, and "teach" is going to give you one you’ll not soon forget.
“Em-hmm. No big deal. It’s just pool...anybody can learn to play pool and win. If you ask me, it’s a game for wussies. If I wanted to, I could beat you. I just don’t want to,” he said, aimed and missed the next shot.
“Ach!” Sylvie sounded. “Say what? Wussies?” she simpered, then chuckled. “You just mad 'cause you can’t play,” she furthered. “I brought you down here, fed you that good and tender steak, and you know it was good—wudn’it?” she prodded for affirmation. He nodded, looking her in the eyes.
“Yeah, it was good, if I must say so myself.” Take it nice and slow…she’s about to set up the knock down…just let her lead you, and you follow her right in, he coached himself silently.
“Doggone right it was good! Nice, fresh-tossed salad. Perfectly baked potato, I might add and dessert is waiting,” she continued to boast.
You better believe it, baby, and it’s gonna be sweet, he thought in anticipation. “Now, having said that, the least you could do…” She had that black pride feeling raising its ugly head. Her gestures, drag and motion, just too confident. “I said, the least you could do, is take this whippin’ like a man. I ain’t gone hurt ya bad, just a lil’ spankin’. You like spankings, don’tcha?” She grinned, then laughed out as she set up the last two shots and sunk them both, and without hesitation she polished off the 8-ball in the corner pocket. Her finale was a little victory dance, crowing in her joy and laughter. Oh, but he played his part well. “Oh, I see how you are now. Didn’t your mama ever teach you when you play a game with a man, you're suppose to let him win?”
“My mama never taught me no such thing,” she returned, with hands on hips and attitude high.
"Well
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