Oca 17

High Stakes Pool

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“Go on, man,” said Eric, giving Vance a light shove towards the bar and the girl standing there. “Go on, what?” “Make a move.” Vance drained the last of his beer and took a deep breath. He’d been watching her for the best part of twenty minutes. She stood out in this place in her long black skirt and corset. She wore her hair up so little strands framed her face. He waited for her to finish checking a text on her phone and then slid into the space beside her. His mind went blank. Shit. “Would you like a drink, beautiful?” he asked. She rolled her eyes at the line then looked at him properly and blinked. He resisted the urge to cringe, fairly sure he’d ballsed it up already. She smiled. “You any good at pool?” Her question threw him for a minute but then it hit him that she hadn’t just told him to get lost. He grinned. “I’m the daddy at Pool,” he said. “Do you play?” “Yes, but I’m not much good. Maybe you could give me some pointers. Oh, and I’ll have a bottle of Corona.” He hailed the barman and ordered two bottles. “Would you like to play?” She bit her lip as if he’d said something suggestive. “Sure, but no laughing at me.” He held up three fingers to his forehead. “Cub scouts honour, dib dib dib,” he said. She narrowed her eyes. “You’re making fun of me already.” He laughed and handed over her beer. “Not yet. I’m going to wait until I see how bad you really are.” He turned his back on her and walked towards the conveniently vacant pool table. Well, despite the shaky start it looked like he had his foot in the door. “Hey!” she called after him. Oh, yeah, she was hooked. He looked back at her and started racking up the balls. “What? I’m honest.” “Ha!” He walked over and handed her the cue ball. Her fingers brushed his as she took it and she blushed under her pale makeup. Winding her up was fun. “Do you need to be shown how to break?” he asked, barely suppressing a smirk. She scowled and bumped him out of the way with her hip. As she got down to make a passable break he leaned on his cue and checked out the view. Her long skirt hugged her ass as she leaned forwards. When she stood istanbul travesti up she caught him looking but he could see no reason to try and hide it. “I’m Ashley by the way,” she said. “Vance.” He casually walked round the table and confidently potted two balls one after another. The second one was a bit of a trick shot. No harm in showing off a little, right? He glanced at her and then deliberately missed his next shot to give her a chance. “You did that on purpose,” she said. He gave her a crooked smile and offered her the table to take her shot. She picked an easy pot and made it. Well he’d seen worse, especially among girls. Her shot was all about the pot though with no forward planning. It left her out of position for a second pot. She thought about it for a moment then got down for a shot. Vance was too distracted by the view down her top to work out what she was planning. She took the shot and nestled the cue ball against the cushion behind a cluster of her balls. “That wasn’t very nice,” he said. “You’re a bit of a bitch.” She winked at him. “No, I’m just playing to my strengths.” It was starting to enter his mind that this might actually go somewhere. Those darkly framed, shining eyes of hers were very inviting. He played a quick safety, leaving the ball in such a position that she had no choice but to lean right down over the table. Her cheeks flushed as he watched her and she seemed to take a lot longer than she needed to, to make the shot. He started imagining what it would be like to tug that corset down and release her breasts. She missed her shot and left him an easy sitter. Her reaction to his attention gave him confidence and he casually potted his ball and turned to her. “Would you like to make this game more interesting?” he asked “How so?” “For every turn that you don’t pot, I get a kiss.” He couldn’t look at her while she considered her reply so he played his next shot. He purposefully played it as a nothing shot, leaving the cue ball in the middle of the table, completely open for her to play any shot she liked. She bit her lip. “Okay, on one istanbul travestileri condition; you have to play by the same rules. For every turn where you fail to pot, I get the same.” He nodded and she walked around the table considering which shot to take. “Take your time,” Vance said. “I’d hate it if you missed.” As she passed him he ran his hand lightly over her waist and hip, feeling the curve of her body under the silky fabric. He watched the way she studied the table and realised she was looking to put him in a difficult position so he’d have to concede the first kiss. “You hustler,” he said. “Haha, I’m no hustler,” she said. She glanced into his eyes as she got down for the shot. “If I pull this off it’ll be a miracle.” “You have a great cleavage,” he said, trying to distract her. The pink returned to her cheeks and she blinked. He moved round in front of her until he was standing with his crotch directly in her line of sight. “I think that may be cheating,” she muttered. He chuckled. “Nope, it’s all in the rules.” She attempted her shot but her cue arm was shaking a little. She turned away from the table before the ball had even stopped moving, and walked round to him. Then she lifted up on her toes and kissed him full on the lips. He responded immediately, moving his lips against hers with delicious, damp pressure. He put one hand up to her cheek and cupped her jaw. Her lips were perfect, soft but firm and so delicious. The kiss was so sensual he was instantly aroused. He pulled away to take his shot and, for a fraction of a second, she swayed on the spot, eyes closed. He couldn’t help grinning. He took his shot quickly, potting one and then leaving her in a wicked snooker. “Now who’s the hustler,” she said, scowling at him playfully. “I liked your kiss so much, I want more,” he said. Her eyes flashed hungrily. “I have a new proposal for you.” “Go on.” “You beat me, without me potting another ball, and I’m yours for the night.” Whoa, okay, so he’d figured it was going well, but that was… Silly, she wouldn’t go through with it; she didn’t think she’d lose. travesti istanbul And, to be fair, to play a whole game without conceding a single pot would be tough. But not impossible. He smiled wickedly. “You’re on.” She turned back to the table. “Do I get to break on the next game?” he asked. She giggled. “Let’s finish this one first, okay?” “Game on then.” She managed to get out of the snooker he’d left her in, but left him an easy shot in return. He quickly potted it and snookered her again, keeping the pressure on. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face now. She went to get down for her next shot. “Hey, where’s my kiss,” Vance said moving round to her side. She stood back up and kissed him deeply, parting her lips against his. Her tongue darted into his mouth. She tasted so sweet. She looked a little shaky as she got down for her next shot and he felt a little guilty for taking advantage of her. Then she somehow managed to pull a two cushion escape and leave him snookered in return. Where had that come from? “You can wipe that grin off your face,” she said as she walked round to pay her kiss forfeit. “I only have to pot one, remember.” When he got down for his next shot she hovered by his side. He was painfully aware of her presence, so much so he could almost feel the warmth of her body. He sighted on a ball and she leaned down, strands of her hair tickling his cheek. Focus, focus. As he drew his arm back she blew gently in his ear. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and a shiver went right through him. He giggled and scuffed the shot. He shook his head at her as he stood up and she held both hands up. “Hey, it’s all in the rules,” she said, biting her lip. “Where’s my kiss?” He leaned in slowly and kissed her gently, teasing her delicate lips seductively, intimately. The sweet passion of the moment took him from kind of aroused to full on hard. God he wanted her. When she walked round to take her next shot her eyes looked distant and phased. Vance walked round in front of her, flagrantly showing her the erection in his jeans. She missed her pot by a mile and walked round to him. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “I’m not giving up yet,” she said against his lips. “Please don’t.” She lingered in his arms and, as much as he could have held her like that all night he desperately wanted to finish the game now.

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