9 ball

9 Ball


We met and got to know each other over a game of pool. Nine Ball. I was unfamiliar
with this game, and barely familiar with pool at all, short of knocking the
balls everywhere except in a pocket. He opens the special carrier which holds
his stick....no, his cue stick....2 pieces which he
screws tightly together. It is longer than most, blue marbled....very expensive
looking, well balanced and straight.

He, too, seems remarkably well balanced and straight. A nice change from some
of the men I had met recently. Tall, intelligent, longish, silvering hair swept
back....a ready smile and eyes that seemed forever changing
colors...and expressions. He is a humble sort.....'anyone can buy an expensive
stick' he comments....'doesn't mean they know how to use it well.' Hmmm, he
has a point I think to my self, all the while knowing that I am sure he does
know how to use it, and use it well....his cue stick, that is, I tell myself,
adding that I had best get my mind back on the game.

Handing me a drink, a screwdriver, he explains the rules of Texas 9 Ball. You
have to hit the lowest numbered ball on the table first otherwise it is' ball
in hand' and you have to hand the ball to your opponent If you can sink the
9 ball by playing it off the lowest ball on the table, you win.
'Break' he says, handing me his cue stick. Acting far more confident than I
felt, I sighted down the cue stick, hit the 1 ball and promptly sent my cue
ball into the corner pocket Sigh...great start. 'Ball in hand', says
he. He sinks the 1, the 2...misses on the 3, leaving me with the cue ball neatly
tucked behind the 4 and the 6. No clear shot. I walk around the table trying
to figure out how I have any chance of hitting the 3 ball at all.

'Always keep your stick pointed straight up' he cautions...'don't
want to put someone's eye out with it.' Does he realize what all these pool
references sound like or is it just that my mind is in the gutter?....no wait...that's
bowling....silly me. I smile and he comes up and explains I can always give
him ball in hand if I can't handle it. No way! I smiled, and lined up a shot
which would require the cue ball to
bank off two sides before maybe, just maybe, hitting the 3 ball...let alone
actually sinking it.

'Better really slam it!' he says.....I give it a good
shot.....it ricochets off 2 sides of the table, hits the 3 and sends it neatly
into the side pocket. I meant to do that. Yup, sure did!

The 4 and 5 go kerthunk as only a straight on shot can...I'd watched...hit the
cue ball down low...it hits the other ball and stops...rather than following
it in the pocket.

The 6 careened off as the cue ball hit the pocket..'Ball in hand' he says.
His shot misses by the tiniest fraction. 'Ball in hand' he says slowly handing
me the ball. He smiles.
Says he'll let me have them all, except the last one.

'A gentleman', says he, 'neither runs the table nor goes to bed with his socks
on.' Interesting definition of a gentleman I think as he sinks the 6 and leaves
the 7 perched right on the rail halfway to nowhere.

'That's a Bob shot' I am told and there follows a long story involving the Bahamas,
lots of rum and a fellow named Bob who is the champion pool player of some bar
there.
The jist of it was is to come up behind the ball just barely kissing it on the
ass and startling it into the pocket. Works too!

I barely sip the last of my drink before another one appears at my elbow. 'Don't
worry, we aren't driving. I never drink and drive.' His hand slides around
to the small of my back....as he hands me a five....'feed this to the juke box...we
need some music. Play some Sinatra and what ever else you want.' 27-2 (The
Lady is a Tramp...hey! I like that song! *grin*),
18-5 (Stairway to Heaven), 15-4 (Born in the USA)...he comes over and punches
in some from memory. Back at the table, we are joined by several of his buddies.
I am introduced to them all....names blurring as he says I am pretty good...for
a girl. That comment alone sank the 8.....followed by
the nine in the same shot. Meant to do that too, I did....honest...*she
says with a grin.*

'Rack 'em' he says.

He won the next game and then played a couple with his buddies. I sat there
on the bar stool watching. The bar reminded me of a cross between Cheers and
the Starwar's 'Cantina.' Easy comraderie. Drinks racked up like pool balls,
pool balls disappearing as fast as the beer.

I looked down at the yellow rose lying on the bar next to my drink. My mind
meandered back a few hours to my stepping off the train.
'Follow the rose petals.' he'd said. There....where I stepped off the train
was a scattering of pale peach rose petals.....
more a few feet further towards the exit. A trail of them
(how many roses did this take, I'd wondered)
led through the main concourse, around kiosks,
out across the road and down the sidewalk to a series of
carved wooden benches. There, sitting with a yellow rose in his hand, surrounded
by hundreds of rose petals was the man I'd come to meet.....


I am startled out of my reverie by a nudge on my shoulder.
‘Hey...hellooo! Where'd you go?'

‘Oh, I was....um...visiting a certain bench....' I respond, playing with the
rose.

‘Ah,'...a knowing grin and then, ‘Well, you're up!'

‘Me?'
‘Yes, you! I lost and so you are up.'

Oh swell, well, this should be good for a laugh. Billy or Smitty or Stevie
(???) goes for the break and leaves me several possible shots including one
that I notice as I'm walking around the table. I pause, considering....

‘You aren't EVEN thinking about doing what I think you are thinking about are
you?'

I grin...wondering if I am seeing the angles right. 1 off the 6 sending the
9 ball into the side pocket.....

‘20 bucks says you don't make it,' says BillySmittyStevie.

‘50 says she does' answers my champion.

‘Nooooooo, don't bet on me,' I say looking at him, silently pleading not to
do this.

‘You are a good bet any way I look at it.' He grins. ‘Money up boys!'

Bets begin flying. I'm wondering if there is room under the table to hide.
He just sits there across the table from me casually leaning against the bar.
His eyes are sparkling. He is tall, jeans just tight enough to show off the
butt that won him first place in the bar-buff-off a few weeks back and to suggest
the pleasures that wait in the future. I wonder if he handles that cue stick
as well as.......

The cue stick in my hand feels damp and I realize my palm is sweating. Shifting
to wipe my hand on my jeans, I realize my hand isn't the only thing damp....Flashing
another look in his direction, I see one of those ‘all knowing' looks that tells
me he knows my mind wasn't exactly on pool!

The bar becomes very quiet. Figures the juke box picks now to run out of songs.
I look down at the table....feeling every eye on me......

I line up the shot....

take a deep breath.....

and.....


BAM!

I sink that 9 ball right in as sweet as can be!

‘Knew you'd do it, Doll!' Gee... glad HE did!
‘Last Call!' bellows the bartender over the noise.

We walked hand in hand back to the train station where we could catch a cab.
There are still rose petals fluttering around. ‘Well, do I put you in a cab
for home....or would you like to come back to my place with me?' he asks as
he opens the door to the cab. I get in and not letting go of his hand, pull
him in after me. Guess that answered THAT question!

I prowl around his place, exploring. Living Room...Grissom, King, Steele (?),
Cussler and Sheldon line the book case. A fireplace ready for a fire. The
whole place is neat as can be. The dining room table has still more yellow
roses on it! Wow! Plants thriving everywhere. Kitchen.....fridge.....drink...works
for me! I hear music come on in the living room. I pick up and begin to play
with a green Furby....always wanted to see what they did.... Then I am thinking
about nothing other than the way his kisses are doing strange and wonderful
things to me. ‘Yuuummmm' says the Furby.

Somehow I am standing there in his kitchen half naked. Shoes have been kicked
off...shirt tossed out to the dining room. My bra is dangling off the chandelier.
He makes a comment about wild abandon as he gives me a total body hug and
then deepens his kiss. ‘Moooore' says the Furby.
A trail of discarded clothing follows us to the bedroom. ‘Ut-oh' says Mr Furby
in the distance.

A green-sheeted queen sized bed triggers a thought but before I can comment,
he says...'Up for a game of pool?'
‘I'm game!'


He says 'My break." And pushes me backwards
so that I sprawl
on the bed…arms and legs akimbo. Flopping next
to me, he takes my face gently between his hands.
Fluttering butterfly kisses rain down…on my forehead,
Eyelids, the tip of my nose….then…..finally down
On my lips. My mouth parts to accept his, but he pulls away
For a moment. His eyes are dark with passion--bottomless.
His hands move to entangle themselves tightly in my hair
Before bending to kiss me deeply. A slow kiss…building in
Intensity as his tongue thoroughly explores my mouth--
Meeting and greeting my tongue, inviting it to dance. A tango
Of sorts melds into something more frenetic as he pushes
It deep within me, allowing me to suck on it for mere
Moments before withdrawing and letting me do some
Exploration of my own. All the time, his fingers hold my
Head almost fiercely against his. Then…suddenly--
He breaks contact, lifts his head and says….
'There goes the one ball.'

He moves down my body…still fluttering quick
Kisses here…and…there…..he follows the
Column of my throat…pausing now and then to
Kiss or lick the edge of my jaw….the hollow at the
Base of my neck……a shoulder…inching
Ever so slowly down….down…..to kiss the
Swell of my breast. Supporting himself
On his elbows, he takes a breast in each hand….
His thumbs rubbing over each nipple
Causing each to strain for his touch.
Kissing each, he returns to the first…all the
While kneading both breasts. Taking my nipple
Between his teeth, he worries it…sucking it gently
As his tongue laps over it. As I arch to meet him
He releases it and moves over to its twin. Pinching my
Nipple sharply between thumb and forefinger, he cautions
Me not to move. Bringing both breasts together within
His large hands, he takes both nipples in his mouth
at once and draws intensely on them.
One again, I arch, sooooo close to cumming….
He continues until I am about to explode and then
Abruptly stops. He releases both breasts.
'There goes the 2 and the 3…a combination shot.'

He moves down my body…licking….tickling….
At me with his fingers, his tongue, his wandering fingers.
He encircles my navel, dipping in, causing ripples of pleasure
As his hands wrap around my back, rubbing the base of my spine,
fingers caressing, finding pleasure places I hadn't known
existed. 'There's the 4 neatly sunk.' Says he, reaching lower.

I grin and move…quickly flipping him over on his back.
'A gentle never runs the table,' I say.
'Who ever said I was a gentleman?' he asks.
My hands travel down his body…my ultimate destination
Being his balls. 'Hmmmm not sure there's a shot here,'
I say quietly. 'Might have to be 'ball in hand.' Giggling,
I spread his legs. My fingers find and then hold his balls…weighing them,

As I lean over to lick at first one then the other
As my fingers find and press on that sensitive area at the
Base of his balls. I take first one, and then the other in my mouth
Sucking first hard, then softly as I watch his cue stick
Harden and grow. 'The 5', I say giving one a kiss…'and the 6'
…a quick lick to the other….'my favorite'….leading to……….

Blue marbled and straight, his pool cue dances at
Attention. Seeing a drop of precum, I gently rub it around the
Head of his cock with my finger, mentioning that one 'always must
Remember to chalk up' before playing. Right on cue, it jumps…wanting
To wait no longer. I almost let it dive into my mouth…but no…one has
To take one's time and plan their shots…so that one is in a good
Position for the next shot to come…err….cum. Licking around the
Edge of his ruby knob, down…slowly down…down…the shaft
All the while playing with the 5 and 6 balls. Finally, taking
Him into my mouth, I suck him in hard….feeling him pulse and
Throb as I almost swallow him. I almost dissolve into laughter as
I hear the furby in the other room…saying 'Yuuuum'
Playing and stroking him, a hand
Sneaking up to tweak a nipple, I feel his ass muscles begin to clench
And immediately withdraw saying…'There goes the 7'

'ENOUGH' he growls, flipping me neatly on my back and dives
between my legs, moving in to closely examine my closely
shaved pussy. His fingers spread me wide…wide….his tongue teasing at
my clit, coaxing it out to play. Teeth nibble as fingers, first one…..the two

push deep within me…curving up, pushing, nudging at that spot deep inside….

Causing me to levitate my hips clear off the bed. He lifts his head and grins.

'Gives new meaning to the phrase 'behind the 8 ball' doesn't it?' he says
before returning to drink of the moisture that is literally dripping from
my pussy. 'HUUUNGRY' calls a far off furby voice.
He brings me so very close again…and yet, again.
Teasing, nibbling, sucking at my clit. One hand--his fingers
Pulling, pinches at a nipple. The other hand--moving slowing in and out of
me--
Repeatedly. He brings me to the edge one more time before at
Long, long last he sends me careening in an explosive whirl!!
'Guess that's the end of the 8 ball!'
Breaking into my beyond coherent silence
is a furbish comment….'Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!'

He drinks the fruit of his labors bringing me out of my stupor and back
Into feeling like a total mass of feeling. 'Mooore' comes the furby's voice.

I may kill that furby, I think before I am again sidetracked by his relentless
tongue. …which once again has brought me teetering on the edge.
He shifts, moves above me, positions his cue stick, and then rams himself home
crying out '9 ball in the corner pocket!'

Fast and furious he moves within/out me both of us meeting each other
In a frenzy of lust and passion….until…until…..
Until we both cum….blending, melting into the other….as worlds collide
And explode. I feel his coming as a hot stream fills me….feel my muscles
clamping down, milking him dry.
'Game' he says....
'Mooooore' says the furby

'Rack 'em, sweetie!' I grin.