Every man should have a pool table in their house. It's a whole lot of fun. Even if you don't play pool all that well...
I had invited Renee over to see my new Christmas present to myself. I had just finished pouring a drink when she came in. As usual, her stunning beauty was a sight to behold. She was dressed in a low-cut top that accentuated her ample cleavage. I really did try to keep from drooling as I worked my way down her body to see a pair of jeans that hugged her in all the right places. I glanced down to see a pair of high heels adorning her feet. She always wore them around me. I don't know if it was because she liked looking me in the eyes, or if she liked the look in my eyes when I saw her in them. Her hips swayed back and forth just perfectly as she walked over to me. I smiled as she drew close and gave her a long, slow kiss on her luscious lips.
After a minute or two, we finally came up for air, to which I finally said, "Hello there, sexy. Nice to see you again."
Renee smiled and replied, "Same here. How could I refuse an invitation to come over and see what Santa brought you?". I laughed as I took her hand and led her into the other room. There, smack in the middle was my brand new pool table. A full-sized model with a beautiful finish. I had always wanted one, and when I finally got the chance and the room, I jumped on it.
Renee walked around the table, tracing her fingers across the wood and felt as she admired it. She pulled the rack down off the wall and started to rack up the balls for a game.
As she worked, she said, "No sense letting it sit around like this. Might as well start playing. Be a dear and fix me a drink, will you? You know what I like..."
I nodded and returned to the kitchen to mix up a nice bourbon and Coke. I returned to the 'entertainment' room to see Renee's ass swaying back and forth in front of me as she bent over slightly, ready to break. I sat her drink down on the table and walked up quietly behind her.
As I got close, I pressed into her and whispered in her ear, "You should really get down lower. More power that way."
With a gasp from my sudden appearance, she miscued and almost scratched. I reached out, pressing into her tighter, and grabbed the ball before it could get away.
Renee pressed back against me as she turned around and told me, "That's not fair. How am I supposed to win if you keep cheating?"
I stepped back and held my hands up innocently. I replied, "I'm not cheating. Just trying to give you a few pointers."
She glared at me and returned to her shot. I sat back, trying desperately to hide the growing hard-on in my pants. I knew that if she spotted it, my playing days were numbered.
The first game was fairly uneventful. It was close, but in the end Renee was able to sink the 8-ball with a tricky shot. I applauded her and went to start the next game.
I asked, "As the winner, you get to pick the next game. What's it going to be?"
With a hint of that devilish smile I love so much, her reply was "Let's make this interesting, shall we? How about we play strip 8-ball?" Now, I've played strip poker, naked Twister, and a variety of other clothing-optional games before, but strip 8-ball was a first for me.
Renee explained that every time you sank a ball, your opponent had to remove an article of clothing. I thought this might be interesting. I agreed, and Renee had an excellent break. The 12-ball went right into the pocket. I looked up to find her staring at me, waiting.
I protested, "What?!? That was luck..."
She wagged her finger at me and replied, "Rules are rules. Pick something."