Bizarre Snooker Moments
Not having extensive knowledge of Snooker might not be significant for this story. You could possibly read about it on Wikipedia or, for a more entertaining option, listen to 'Snooker Loopy' by Chas 'n Dave and the Matchroom Mob, a well-known and popular song in Britain.
My preference is to come to the snooker club during the early weeks, specifically on Mondays and Tuesdays, as these days tend to be quiet and I need that quietness at the moment. My self-confidence isn't the best right now, not just due to the sport but also because of a recent breakup in my relationship. My girlfriend, Emma, ended our four-year long partnership yesterday. We had been together for almost a month.
Both of us were hoping for more prosperous circumstances because apparently, she assumed that Mrs. O'Sullivan and Mrs. Selby had abundant resources and desired to be involved at the preliminary level.
In two weeks, there will be a tournament called Q-club, and if I want to be part of it, I need to improve my game and build back my confidence. A few months ago, I was knocked out in the preliminary round of the Midlands Grand Prix before even touching the table properly.
I'd done fairly well previously. Just one match interfered with my entry in the UK Masters qualifiers. The year before that, I was a defeated finalist in the Midlands and the year prior to that, I made it to the semifinals.
I've had some success locally, and it does provide a little income and several rewards.
However, now it's time for me to elevate my game and boost my confidence.
I show up at the club shortly before seven. The club has only been open for half an hour and only one table is lit up in the main hall. The matchroom is currently not open as the green baize is being replaced.
I stroll towards the bar to book a table yet there's nobody there. So, I peek into the snooker hall via its massive window, intending to check which table is in use.
Two men, probably in their sixties, are playing on the lit-up table. One is talking loudly while the other prepares a shot, which wouldn't be ideal for me while I'm preparing a shot too. Still, I feel a tinge of envy towards these aged companions who are simply enjoying themselves. I've not played casually for a long time, always prioritizing practice or competition, repeatedly.
When I turn around, I hear an alluring voice from behind me.
"Hi, Ellis," Bailey's sweet, sensual voice breaks my train of thought and propels my spirits up.
"I suppose I'll take table one," I reply, gesturing towards the corner opposite those two. "Is the matchroom prepared yet?" I enquire.
The excellent view of Bailey's captivating buttocks as she awkwardly crouches behind the bar makes me momentarily forget what I was about to say. She's wearing a tight black skirt that ends mid-thigh and apparently, black tights or stockings. Her ample chest is almost completely hidden by a plain white shirt. I'm unable to stop my gaze from falling on her welcoming bosom as she leans forward across the countertop.
"The re-laying should start in a couple of days. All the electrical work isn't done yet, but the light over the table is functional, so the room is usable," Bailey informs me.
"I'll wait till it's complete," I say.
She generously sets down a tray of balls on the bar, gliding them my way.
She leans forward, pressing her generous cleavage against the bar.
"So, drink?" Bailey asks, grinning. My gaze briefly shifts back to her eyes that sparkle with mischief, but she must've noticed me checking out her breasts a moment ago. It's quite obvious she's accustomed to it. I'm not exempt from her influence and suspect the aged gentlemen would've looked, too.
"Yes, just a diet Coke, please," I state, trying my best to remain calm, although I rarely feel that way around Bailey.
Bailey hides her laughter and responds, "I'll bring it over for you."
I thank her and head towards the table. It's time to concentrate on my game.
The two elderly men are progressing towards completing a frame. I can't tell if it's a close game, but the one at the table looks perturbed as he's just missed an easy blue. I wave casually to the other one as I pass.
I deposit the rack of balls onto the table and attempt to roll the balls onto their respective spots on the baize. I've never successfully managed to position the baulk colours there but once came extremely close to achieving this feat.
The typical elderly guy voices something, and I hear Bailey's wicked laughter. Bailey approaches my table with my drink, carrying the red ball between her palms.
"Here you go," she says in a raspy voice, placing my drink on the table. She maintains an intimate firm grip on the black for a bit longer before releasing it.
"Thanks," I murmur, as she places the black in my hand. She retains her hold for longer than necessary as she looks deeply into my eyes and smiles.
"No problem", she purrs sexily, walking away and subtly swaying her luscious, round backside.
She undoubtedly understands that I'm watching her, and she knows the two old men were undoubtedly watching her, too. She's an expert at manipulating lonely losers like me, given her appeal.
I jerk my gaze back to the table and slip the red into the pocket.
I set the rest of the colors in their proper positions, lined up my cue, and braced myself for the flawless break...
Four reds peel from the bunch and spread across the table in opposite directions.
The cue ball doesn't even touch the halfway line.
If I were my competitor, he'd already be at the table with a smirk on his face.
While I ponder a re-rack, I spot an older gentleman approaching the table.
"You, uh, the local pro aren't you?"
"No, not yet... probably not ever with a break like this," I tried to seem amicable but secretly I wanted him to leave.
"Well, you might want to stay focused with that waitress parading around." His old face brightened with a perverted, toothless smile.
I was a little uncomfortable since I'm generally not a fan of what they call "locker room" talk. But if I just played along, maybe he'd go away.
"Yeah, those hips are great." I couldn't believe it! Those words just flowed right out of me! I squirmed inside.
"Good luck to you. Maybe we'll see you on TV soon." He walked away, laughing to himself. The other guy broke off and just gave me a nod. The international sign for "sorry about my friend."
I re-rack and start over. Better this time so I have to fight for my first point. A long red rattled the jaws and fell in, leaving me over the black.
After some good shots and a smooth break of twenty-nine, I heard the door open again and felt Bailey's presence in the room. The three guys whispered something to her and she set their empty glasses on a tray. I need to stay focused, I know this is a public place and she has a job to do, but does she have to be so darn sexy while she does it?
An open red rattled around the center pocket, just missed, and stayed in the jaws. I groaned in frustration.
Gentle snickering came from the other end of the room. I tried to ignore it, but I looked up and caught the trio staring at me. I forced a smile, admiring the sight.
"Thanks for the encouragement, guys. I'll do better next time." I heard a bark of laughter from the corner. I turned to pick up the balls.
I chose to solely pot the colors, knocking them from their positions. As I potted them, I felt Bailey's approach. I heard her nylon-clad legs scrape against each other as she walked towards me and her high heels tapped against the floor with each step. I couldn't take my eyes off her.
"Sorry about that, Ellis. They're more interested in watching you than playing their own games. We didn't mean to throw you off," she supplied a sympathetic smile with her light brown, slightly messy hair falling on her shoulder.
"It's alright, I was having a rough game anyway. I'll just have to accept it as good as it gets." If it sounds like I'm fishing for pity, it's because I am. Maybe she'll give me a hug and encourage me to keep going.
"Give me a couple of minutes," Bailey winked, swirled around, and left.
I watched her as she sauntered between the tables, her head cocked towards the men. The two men turned towards me. I watched them, watched me, watched them. I didn't mind. A woman like that, what can a man do but stare?
I went back to the table and simply potted balls at random. This sometimes helps me refocus before I attempt a fresh break.
The cue ball bounced into the yellow on the top left pocket, landing with as much force as I could manage. The white rolled around the table, hitting every cushion several times before coming to a stop. That felt satisfying and lifted my spirits a bit.
I spread the balls across the table, gathering the balls from each pocket. I glanced up to see the two men helping Bailey with the trays. They were leaving... leaving me alone... with Bailey!
As they exited, they said goodbye and wished me luck. Are they wishing me good luck with snooker or good luck with the girl?
"Uh, no...I've just prepared another frame." I murmured nervously.
Bailey laughed and said, "Don't fret over it. I've left you a tray in the room. You go up and I'll tidy away these things."
"Okay, sure...Is it okay for me to use that table upstairs?"
"Don't sweat it. If anyone can use it, it's our champ!" She grinned and leaned against the door frame to let me pass.
I held my cue and case and edged closer to Bailey in the doorway. Was I supposed to squeeze past her?
"Feel free to head up." She smiled, with an understated naughtiness, still refusing to move. I poked my cue stick out in front of me and sort of sideways past her. I squeezed my way through, my back rubbing against the door hinge.
It's tight, it's intense, she smells incredible!
Bailey raised an eyebrow and smirked as I took my first step up to the Matchroom. If she was here to help, she should step aside...(Take that phrase however you wish).
I reached the door to the matchroom and, as I opened it, I looked back. Bailey had vanished. What did she want? Was she teasing me? Or was something going to happen?
I entered the room and could see it had been given a touch-up with some new features added, but the same old wallpaper and lighting fixtures remained.
I approached the table, the cloth was worn and I could see a couple of small holes in it. This won't work for me. Why had she put me up here?
I started to remove the balls from their tray and place them on the table. I tried to play my usual game, rolling the green towards its spot. I shook my head as I watched it veer off towards the cushion. This table is warped.
I carried on regardless, even though it felt like I was playing in water. My breaks rarely made it into double figures and I gave up attempting to pot the black into one pocket.
After around ten minutes, the door opened and Bailey stepped in with another drink for me and a pinky-red cocktail, presumably for her, on a tray. She set the tray down.
"Is it better up here?" She inquired.
"Absolutely," I lied. The room, however, felt strange, the same old wallpaper and lights.
I saw the other glasses on the tray. "Are those shots?"
"Yeah! I thought we'd have some fun." She said, grinning broadly.
"But what if someone comes in?" I asked cautiously.
"They'd have to break in." She responded. "It's just you and me." Her large beautiful eyes widened as she spoke.
"Oh!" Was my apprehensive response.
She slid her sexy butt along the mahogany panelling of the table until she stood right next to me.
After a momentary pause while I lined up my shot, she asked, "How do you decide which ball to aim for, Ellis?" Bailey gazed right into my eyes as she stood so close to me. The fragrance of her combined with the smell of beer filled my nostrils.
"Well, um, the first one's red and..." I began nervously before she cut in.
"I'm joking!" She laughed. "I was raised around the game." She was just teasing me.
She moved closer to me, her body heat radiating. Sweat began to form on my brow as I searched for a way out.
"Got a shot?" I asked and stepped away from her, offering my cue.
Bailey picked the cue up and stepped back from the table to select a ball to aim for.
"How about that red near the green?"
"What's in it for me if I do?" Bailey teased.
Several ideas crossed my mind, but I was too shy to share them. "Er, I'll pay for those shots."
"Deal!" Bailey made a show of stooping over to take the shot, swaying her butt in the process which caused her pants to make a 'phut-phet' sound as she rubbed her legs together.
She took a while to line up her shot, turning to look at me for a moment. I continued to focus on her body whilst I did this, purely to analyse her form, of course.
She flicked the cueball with medium force, and it rolled, hitting the red and sending it into the top corner pocket without a rattle. A couple of extra balls slid in too.
"Great shot!" I said. It was pricey, though.
"Thanks. Although I should have said that I've played before." She beamed, her face lighting up and her eyes sparkling. "I don't play often, though. Just the occasional shot when someone lets me."
She responded, "I'm more into playing pool. I don't really get snooker. A few men a few weeks ago offered to show me." Her eyes expressed confusion. "They said they wanted to place me on the table and decide between pink or brown. What part of the game is that, Ellis?"
I was embarrassed as I said, "I believe they may have been using complete obscenity."
She grinned playfully. "Your face is giving it away. Don't you think I've heard all that before?"
The discomfort made me feel even more nervous in her presence, and the warmth she generated made me break out in a sweat at locations I'd never imagined possible.
"Shall we have those shots now?" She inquired, standing closer to me than before. She was practically rubbing against me. My erection was beyond a semi; it was attempting to make room in my tight trousers.
"Yep, sure." I hunched over the pool table to avoid awkwardness.
"You're walking strangely." I could sense that she was peering at me. "Are you okay?"
"Uh, yeah. I think I may have strained a muscle. It happens from time to time."
I tried to stroll back normally, but my awkwardness soon got the better of me, and I felt ashamed. If she's willing to tease me and leave, then she needs to stop. If there's something more at stake here, then...let's give it a shot!
I handed her a shot glass, and she placed it to her lips, jerking her head back, making her swishing brown locks move. I slowly placed mine to my lips. The pun had caught her attention, and she laughed. I drank, then shuddered from the sweet taste.
"Alright, I won't press you into drinking the other shot."
I attempted to act normal but paid close attention to my steps. If she's joking and backing out, then she's got to stop. If she's presenting an opportunity here...
I pass her the shot glass. "Here you go," I replied, using a tone conciliatory just to make the moment seem less intrusive.
This was a lot to take in at the time, and as Bailey eased off the table, I watched her breasts bounce. Her forceful laughter was the last thing I heard before she pushed me away. She leaned over the table, placing her hand on the felt, her fingers spread wide. Her hair hung down, giving her a vampish look. Her mouth twitched, and with a bit of teasing, she tore the buttons from her dress. "Feel ready?" She asked, flashing a white lace bra.
I was still processing what was happening when she pulled me by the hand. "Let's do this!" she exclaimed, pushing me against the table. I first went down onto all fours, giving me a more comfortable position. I felt as though I was about to break the table's stance, but she just propped her legs on me, revealing the white lace panties underneath and allowing me to look up at her naked breasts.
Bailey began saying naughty words, teasing me with delicately whispered innuendos. The atmosphere felt tinged with humour, so I couldn't help but smile. The warmth and texture of the room excited my senses, too. With excitement pulsing through me, I gripped her waist and pushed myself up until our lips met in a tender kiss. Her long nails ran through my hair, and I felt the need to match the activity. "Ready to escalate this?" I questioned, driven by my more aggressive feelings.
She smiled and gestured for me to remove her shirt. As the buttons fell one by one, she sat back down on her chair. "Relax and take it easy," she whispered to me. "This is what you want," she murmered, her breath hitting my ear. I understood her message, as did my hands, which continued to undo her outfit. Her skirt was next, then all her other garments—on the floor was a mess of lacy lingerie. "Here," she gently held one of her legs up, "I thought you'd like your hands on my thighs."
Her hand guided mine toward her left thigh, and I began to softly, rhythmically trace lines. "Do you like?" she asked.
"Yes, very much," I replied, increasing the pressure to assure her.
"Want to continue?"
For the first time, there were no words I needed to articulate. I grabbed a cushion behind her waist and, as I rearranged my position above her, I passionately thrust her legs forward, allowing me to reach her warm breasts. I let my hands explore the skin on her stomach. "Please, may I touch?" I asked, barely restraining my excitement.
Bailey thrust her waist forward, encouraging pressure on her nipples. I began to caress them gently, exploring her body left and right.
Bailey relaxed her back, placing both her arms on the table to boost herself up, sitting at its edge. With a smirk, she claimed, "I was into gymnastics when younger, check this." She dipped down and elevated her behind, propping herself up for a moment. Then, she extended her right leg in front of her, revealing her stunningly sculpted legs. She played with her foot a bit, taking out her heel from her shoe and flicked it to land with precision on her big toe. Fascinated by the sight of her striking, nylon-clad heel, it looked like she desired me to take it off. Bailey dropped it and asked again, "Bailey, why not have you remove this one."
Approaching her hesitantly, I was aware of the different kinks and desires on display and wanted to enjoy them all. As I contemplated stepping towards her, she dismissed the heel. "Oops, careless of me!" She chuckled playfully. She went back to the original position and elevated her other leg, stretching it out perpendicularly on the table and pointed her shoe towards me. "Remove this one."
I, with a sigh of relief, bent down and delicately grasped the stiletto heel. I slid my hand over her shin to touch her smooth tights. Carefully, I pulled her shoe off, scrutinizing every curve of her foot and relishing the sensation. I set the shoe down and got closer to her foot. Struggling to resist leaning in to kiss her precious toes, my efforts preserved my sense of normalcy.
Bailey lowered her foot onto my stomach after my shoes were kicked off and slid it down, pressing her heel against my ever-growing arousal. Granting the command, "Take these off and get up here!", I pushed down my trousers. Bailey since slipped into a sitting position, inclining towards the balls onto the cushions, impatiently awaiting for me.
I leaned onto the table, putting us so our heads were at the baulk end, averting the oppressive overhead light of the snooker table. Now, she was more at ease, her face looking incredible, eyes slightly squinting due to the light.
I sat beside her, and one of our heads nestled at the baulk, enjoying the newly-illuminated perspective of her beautiful face. She craned her neck sideways to absorb my favorites, caring little about the light.
"So, are you going to touch me, kiss me, or just stare?", she inquired.
Intrigued, I cautiously stretched my arm and pressed it on her stomach, leaned in and locked lips with her in a warm embrace. Arching her back sensually, she slid her hand around my neck, pulling me closer for a powerful kiss. Spiritedly, our mouths entwined, and every part of our bodies were entangled while locked in the embrace.
Eventually, my scooted sideways, angling my body over Bailey's, pushing my hips against her back and bringing my still-erect cock in contact with her. Desirous to savor every pore of her, I kneaded her breasts, slowly having her bra unclasp, exposing her seductive assets in its entirety. Our tongues swirled around one another in passionate intensity, breaking from the kiss only at her invitation and gently pulled up her bra.
Relishing her warmth beneath me, my lips, once again, sought the caress of hers, and my grinding against her felt tremendous," Would you rather have me tease your body rather than just touch you?" She inquired boldly. Feeling her hands on my neck, I adjusted my hips against her, seeking out what I desired. Enjoying the stimulation, her nipples strained to make my experience more pleasurable.
I slowly started a rhythmic grinding, finding pleasure from her every response. Our passion triggered my need to unclasp her bra and skillfully untangle her from the complicated garment. My hand roamed over her stomach and upwards to her perfect breasts, massaging them delicately. Un zipping her dress, a tempting peak of lace-clad thighs and hips was unveiled. Leaving the skin-hugging stockings in place, I slid her skirts down to expose her knees.
Her eyes surveyed the got naked as well, and I managed to remove her skirt and pondered whether the evening would offer her satisfaction. She was now eager for my assistance in stripping her off. "Help me off with this now!" Her voice, husky with need, carried desire and I obliged, completing the task. Her sigh of satisfaction echoed and I stood over her, assuring the night would be magical.
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I'm deeply satisfied when I see Bailey's naked hips and thighs. She's adorned with suspender tights! I remove her skirt and her underwear from her sexily curved legs and place them on the floor. I crawl back up her legs, planting kisses on her thighs as I advance. I contemplate offering her oral pleasure, but considering the difficult angle it might present, I decide against it. Instead, I journey upward, pressing my lips against her delightful breasts. Her nipples are erect and sensitive. With a hand on one breast, my lips against the other, I kiss, lick, and play.
Bailey's breathing grows shallower as she responds to my caress, her legs clinging to me, sliding them up and down mine. The soft, enticing touch is on the verge of sending me overboard.
My solid erection shoves against the wood of the table, leaving a likely trail of pre-cum behind.
A medley of perfume, beer, spirits, and cleaning products fills my nose as I caress her magnificent bosom. I perceive that she's pleased but also eager for more. With sheer determination, I work my way up to her mouth once more.
I strive to remain present in the moment as I hold my firm erection at the entrance of her vagina. I drive forward, feeling my tip break through the slight resistance her hole provided. We both exhale briefly as we acknowledge this shared mo**nt.
Bailey wraps her legs around me and carefully squeezes her thighs together; I sense the pleasure she's feeling. She insists on dictating the pace, tightening her grip to pull me forward and loosening it to push me back. I could seize the reins, but I relish the sensation. I nestle my face between her neck and ear, biting and licking. She begins to toss her hips wildly and relinquish herself to the ecstasy. "OoohhhhfffFFFFUuuucckkk!!"
I'd never provoked this sort of ecstasy in a woman before, which prompts a swell of pride in my ego. I join her fervent pace, thrusting and penetrating her firmly.
The concoction of sensations surges through my body, leaving me longing for eternity. The warmth from the lamp, the sweet combination of scents from Bailey, and the feel of her nylon-clad legs against my skin awaken an array of exquisite sensations within me. I strain to postpone my climax, but Bailey's zealous moans and the intensity of the moment threaten to turn back time.
My balls twitch and firm up in the dampness surrounding them. I attempt to picture thorny challenges on a snooker table to suppress my urge to cum.
Bailey tenses her legs, pulling me up a bit, leading me to tap into an alternative angle. She emits a low growl as her moisten vagina clamps onto my manhood. The light above us sways and sways along with my thrusting, indicating she's clinging it for support. Few more pushes take me. "OoohhhFffuuuuck!"
We remain in our concluding positions for some time after, with me protruding inside her. My erection maintains its firmness. Bailey rolls her hips, grinding her vagina against me. We take deep breaths and slowly regain our composure. The light above us meanders back and forth above us, creating a romantic ambiance. We embrace and gaze into each other's eyes. Could this be something more than a mere fling?
After several moments, we descend from the table. We chat and make joyful remarks but experience a hint of uneasiness as we dress. I observe Bailey standing in her stocked feet, adjusting her skirt and tucking in her shirt. She is my ideal partner. May she return the affections.
Though I've grown more confident, I'm not certain if this is the awakening I truly required.
The End.
Read also:
- Slim, Youthful, and Well-Endowed in Part 2
- Who's More Skilled at Taunting?
- Recruiter Chapter 5: Engaging Storylines
- North Hillside Chapter 2
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