out of pocket

It was getting late, and I was on my… shit was this my 5th or 6th john daily? I shrugged to myself did it really matter? No. I took a big sip before placing the drink on our table and grabbing my pool cue. I started absentmindedly stroking it up and down, waiting for my turn. Then I felt his eyes on me. Pulling me out of my zoned out haze. I realized then what had caught his attention. Most would have stopped. But I was feeling a bit… risque. I smirked and started to stroke it more intentionally as I lined up my shot. I could feel his eyes on me the whole time. I stroked my hand down from the tip tell my hand found a comfortable place to grip. Then my elbow came back and I landed my stroke perfectly on the cue ball. It hit the 3 into the corner pocket. Oh was he distracted. Fucking me with his eyes. Staring to long at my lips as if thinking of all the things this pretty mouth could do. He’d have to beg to find out. I stepped back from the table resuming the stroking of my cue, slowly, starting just below the tip and sliding it down the stick. He missed his shot. I laughed. Oh so distracted. I would win this game for sure….

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