We decide to go play pool at a small hole in the wall bar. The drinks are two for one, and you convince the bartender to let us play pool for free, as long as we are drinking!
I select a table in the secluded back part of the bar. It is typical bar lighting-- dark! I rack up the balls as you bring me two amaretto sours, with a splash of rum. You decide to make it a bourbon night, setting your drinks on the table. I ask you what you would like to play for. . .I like to have some kind of bet going on whenever I play pool. I tell you we can play for money, mowing my lawn, or. . .wink wink, "something" else.
You opt for the "something else."
I hand you the cue stick. You place the cue ball on the table, then line up your shot. While you are bent over, preparing to shoot, I come up behind you to rub on your ass. You quickly tell me to stop because I am ruining your concentration. Okay, I say, as I walk away. You shoot, resulting in a meager attempt to separate the balls. Nothing drops. Except the cue ball. I giggle, as you joke with me about what I made you do. You then put me on notice that if I am going to cheat, then you will, too. Fine by me.
I am wearing my little miniskirt, a linen shirt, and a bra. Oh, and some shoes I took off once we started to play. I study the table, trying to discern what would be my best shot to drop as many balls as I could. . .you start to laugh at me, asking me how was I going to bend over to shoot? You knew my ass would be exposed whenever I went to take a shot. I give you my evil smart ass look, as you take a drink. I tell you I know how to play pool in a miniskirt and you should be worrying about your own ass. So there. I stick my tongue out at you.