AI art by me

The music in the background was a nice thumping bass.

Sari knew how to walk it. It didn’t hurt that she was down to her bra and thong set.  They were red.  Showed she really did love me because she didn’t like wearing red for anyone else.  Her smile showed she knew I’d seen and appreciated it.

The good ones, or bad ones, depending on your perspective, knew what their men wanted before they even knew sometimes.  There were some Doms who didn’t appreciate initiative in their subs.  Sad what they’re missing out on for that narrow-minded view!

Sari bent over the table for a long shot.  

I could see she didn’t need to bend that far, but this was for my benefit, so I moved for a better position.  

“Ready?” She purred at me.

“I’m good to go,” I answered.

She laughed. “I bet.” The pool cue slid in her hands like she was giving it a hand job.  “Ooo, so hard.” She whimpered a little.  

It’s nearly criminal how well a girl can fake it for a guy.  Am I complaining?  Hell, no!  I’m bragging on my sweet, little slut Sari.  She can go from 0 to 110 in three seconds, or sound like it.  The fact that it gets me there in the same time is just an incredible blessing!

“I am now.” I laughed.

“Mmmm.” She hummed.  

I knew she loved knowing when she got to me.  A stoic dom is not particularly satisfying to a passionate woman.  They like to know what works and how well it works.  Guess how they remember what to do again?

She made the shot.  I knew she would.  Turning to me, her eyes became positively feral.  “Come on, Baby.” She coaxed me with her fingertips.

I made a show of sighing in defeat.  At this point, I was down to my jeans and underneath.  We were playing an old favorite: Strip Pool.  We rarely finished a game all the way!  Oh, the eight ball always got sunk in the right pocket, don’t worry.

It was fun to know I had a surprise for her.  Taking my time, I unzipped and turned away from her in the classic stripper move.  Pushing the jeans down past my hips, I heard a soft little gasp.  

“Ohhhh, Ssssir.” She purred.

She played at being able to domme, but we both knew she was a submissive from her hair to her toes. It came out naturally at times like this.

“Like, Baby?” I asked as I stepped out of the jeans, but still facing away from her.

I’d switched up on her, and instead of my usual Calvin Klein boxers, I was wearing a purple thong.  Purple was her favorite color.

“Ohhh, yes.  I’ll be so good to you when you lose.  I might not even make you beg for it.” She smirked.

“You still have the last shot.” I eyed the table where only the eight ball was left.  It was an easy shot, and I was curious to see what she’d do with it.

“Come on, Poppa.  You know Babygirl can make what she shoots for every time.” She giggled, and her eyes twinkled.

“Go for it.” I shrugged.

“Oh, I plan to, Lover.” She growled. Her arms reached behind her back.  “I’ll even spot you a point for being so sweet with the purple.”  Her bra was undone, and she shrugged out of it as it hit the floor.  Reaching her arms behind her head, she stretched because she knew I loved that pose.  It accentuated her beautiful breasts so well.

She did something that surprised me.  The shot was an easy straight one into the side pocket.  Instead, she strutted around to the other side of the table.  What the hell?  It must have shown on my face.

“What?  I don’t want to take it easy.  I want to take you hard.” She grinned.  

Doing the shot from where she was on the opposite side meant it would have to be a bank shot.  This also means she’d nearly be lying on the table as she bent over for the play.  

Slowly, she moved herself down and then arched her ass up a little as she eyed me.  “Just wanted to get in position.” She murmured.

Uh-huh.  

“I’ll wait until you can see better, Sir.  It’s the last time you’ll see that side of me for a while. I hope your tongue is limber as usual.” She teased.

I moved around to directly behind her. She had a nicely rounded, firm, almost bubble-like bottom.  In this position, I could hardly resist the temptation to bite it or… or… hmm.

Fortunately, we only kept chalk near the pool table.  I grabbed the lube in the pump bottle and came up behind her as she was still sighting the shot.  I knew she could hear me and feel me so close behind her.

Dripping some lube on my finger, I pulled her thong out of the way of her little hole and began to rim her with it.  “Call you shot, Babygirl,” I told her.

“Mmmhmm…yes…Sir.” She moaned.  “Eight…Ball…side…pocket…b-b-bank shot.” She groaned now as I placed my lubed tip that was now free against her opening.

I tapped it on her little hole three times.  “Make the shot,” I told her.

Her cue moved quickly, like a snake striking; the cue ball jumped up four inches and flew off the table.

“Ooops.” She murmured.

“Mmmhmm.” I smiled and got even harder.

“Call your shot, Master.” She whispered.  Baby got really submissive in these moments.

“Eight ball in the…back pocket.” I slid into her.

“Ooo…you win…again…Master…I surrender.” She pushed back into me.

Strangely, Babygirl never won a single game.  

Oops, looked like we’d have to pay to have the table cleaned again.  The guy who did it was getting suspicious!  Maybe this time, I’d make Babygirl deal with him and admit who was squirting all over the place.  Serve her right!