She liked to play pool, a lot and developed the habit of visiting a local watering hole a few times a week in the afternoon long before the rocking party starts. She put a 10 in the pool table and a 10 in the jukebox and played everything Stevie Ray Vaughn on the machine. The regulars were there and they all said their hellos as she took her place at her regular table.
She's on her third rack and deep into Texas Flood rocking the joint when she noticed him come in. He looked exactly like the actor John Laughlin in Ode to Billy Jack that old 70s movie with the peace loving Green Beret martial artist that kicked some serious ass while protecting a bunch of hippies and Natives Americans. It wasn't hard to believe that he was Billy Jack; he had that same quiet poise but animal strength seething just under the surface. He looked mid 30ish, his dark hair was shorn tight to the skull military style, his face was strong and his beard and mustache were clipped short too, the facial hair was the only thing different between this guy and Billy Jack. She noticed his back pack, filled to the brim, the walking stick he carried looked like he'd cut it down from the top of a tree and whittled it down to the staff he held. He was obviously down on his luck but he was clean and alert, no tracks scarring up his arms or DT twitches... definitely not a rotting drug addict living from one fix to the next.
He asked a couple of guys at the bar if the place was looking for any help, they all said no and then he asked if they'd like to play some pool and give him a chance to buy some lunch. The old guys didn't play pool... they just sat and bullshit over their beers but they pointed in her direction. And she heard Bill tell him
"Good luck boy, you're gonna need it. She's a real shark."
She had heard most of the conversation and wasn't surprised when he came up behind her and turned as he said
"Hi, these guys were just saying that you were a pool shark. I was hoping maybe you could teach me a thing or two?" He reached in his pocket for quarters.
"Don't worry about that the machine is full. My names Tina and you are?" She extended her hand for a firm shake.
"Mike, ma'am pleasure to meet you." He was so polite and soft spoken she wondered how he'd ended up where he was.
"So what are we playing?" he cleared his throat as she looked him directly in the eyes.
"Your preference, ma'am."
"Eight Ball; call your shots including rails; ball in hand on a miss. You rack." She didn't say anything else just re-chalked her hand and stick all the while watching him from the corner of her eye. She wasn't the type of girl that guys tried to pick up but she noticed him watching her. 'Maybe there were still some guys out there that like us thick chicks.' She thought idly. She pulled her long blonde hair back into a pony tail, she wanted him to see her ample cleavage and deep tan lines while she kicked his ass at pool. Her jeans were tight and her tank top tighter hugging each of luscious curve from shoulder to heel. She had her shit kickers on that day and she looked every bit the pool playing bitch she pretended to be.
She broke and they played silently for a few shots. She leaned over going for a long shot across the green calling the 7 ball off 2 rails and slammed it straight into the corner pocket with a quick lift of her tush and flick of the wrist that made her sure he wasn't looking at the ball. She squeezed passed him for a shot from the tight corner of the table and ended in his lap as she bent over; his legs spread further apart and she could feel his cock semi hard pressed against her bottom.
"Pardon me, sir." she said with a husky laugh and shot the entire rack without him having a chance to pick up a cue.
Game over and he wasn't happy; he was hoping to make a few bucks for food and laundry but at least the company was good. She was tall and curvy and had a sexy swing to her step; he liked that she had a little extra cushion that gave her the curves of a '40s pin up model. Her blonde hair was gorgeous; her tanned face glowed and he wondered what she was doing in a dive in the middle of the afternoon. His prick had jerked in his jeans when she'd pressed against him to take her shot. She'd just kicked his ass so he held his hands up and said
"Guess those fella's were right, you are a shark. I bow to your superior cue skills" She smiled at him and laughed
"Hardly superior... you were just playing with the wrong stick." They both laughed "How 'bout some lunch Mike?" he kind of got a panicked look and shrugged "Look, your moneys no good here so lets get some lunch, ok?" He blushed and her body surged as she called for the bartender.
"That would be great, thank you." His face remained red and his eyes downcast as Lisa came over to take our order
"Hey girl we're gonna get some lunch. You want a beer or something, Mike?"
"No, thanks I don't drink. Soda?" she saw the demons flickering behind his eyes.
They ordered and she asked if he wanted to play another game; he smiled, nodded and got busy racking the balls. He started tapping his feet to the music and softly humming under his breath and she enjoyed watching his taut muscles relax and the stress falling from his face. It was cold outside and she knew this was a nice reprieve from the elements but he also seemed to be enjoying the game, the music and the food.
