"Wanna play?" the luscious 5'6" Patricia Ford asks.
"Billiards?" her very lucky boyfriend asks.
"Not necessarily," the 38-24-35 super-model grins. "I dressed in leather because I had a completely different game in mind," she smiles suggestively at him. "But we can play billiards if you like. And whether we play my game or yours, either way, I'll bet I can beat the pants off you!" The more she thinks about it, the more she likes the idea of her man removing his trousers, whether from losing their bet or better yet from her well-proven power to turn him on.
His male pride is challenged now. A mere woman (albeit a spectacular woman) beating him at pool? "How?" he challenges back.
"Every good pool player knows the game takes concentration, and if you can distract your opponent, you're sure to win!"
Before he can even ask how she intends to distract him, she slowly, suggestively unzips the lower half of her tight black leather outfit. This is her unspoken answer to his unasked question, "What distraction?"
She turns her lovely backside to him, revealing all, as she slowly, seductively strokes up and down her pool cue. He doesn't know it yet, but she is already daydreaming of stroking something else long and round but much, MUCH thicker.
Now she is the one in danger of becoming too distracted for the game, as her fingers instinctively reach for the center of her growing hunger for him. Her fingers fail dismally at calming her own growing desire, but she is tough, and she is determined to win her bet and to distract him first. She hops up on the pool table, still in her fetching boots and fishnets but not much else. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to play some other game with me?"
He sees the question as just another way to disttract him and make him lose the bet. She sees the question as an invitation. She has been planning this little seduction scene for days, and by now she really is far more interested in his cue stick and balls, than those of the billiards game.
She slowly, seductively removes her leather top and her fishnet stockings, then makes a show of sensuously lacing-up her sexy black knee-high boots again. She is now almost completely, deliciously naked except for her boots and her garter belt. Through her whole show, she is getting hotter and hotter for him, and yet her sexy antics don't seem to be sapping his will-power to resist her. He seems stubbornly determined to win their silly little bet.
"If it's a game you want," she smirks, "a game you shall have." She climbs back onto the pool table, clad in even less than before, grabs the cue stick, and breaks, lining up several prime shots in a row for herself as she expertly scatters billiard balls all over the tabletop.
Fearing that her skills at both pool and distractions will lose him their wager, he decides to turn the tables on her. As she hunches nearly naked atop the pool table, pool cue in hand, planning her next shot, he suggestively rubs the crotch of his trousers and seductively licks his lips. Her eyes strain to see through his hand, desperate to determine if there is a lovely masculine bulge waiting just for her under his palm. And her labored breathing tells him she is thinking about where she would like him to put that slowly-licking tongue of his. Her right hand resumes absently rubbing up and down her cue stick as her left hand naturally and instinctively returns to her own eager crotch, and she momentarily forgets all about the game and their wager.
Her need to get him as excited as her is becoming a matter of pride with Patricia now. She sets down her cue stick, and smiles at him. Her legs are deliberately posed to let her sexy knee-high boots invitingly frame her hot, wet feminity. She is determined to convince him that she is a better and far more interesting game than billiards.
She turns around and displays her luscious derriere to him, but she peers over her shoulder to see whether she is having the desired affect. Much to her annoyance, his hand still completely hides her view of the bulge she hopes lies just beneath his trousers.
She pulls out all the stops now, hunching down on all fours and silently inviting him to join her in their all-time favorite position. She is definitely playing "dirty pool" to get his mind off the billiards game and onto the game that she wants to play.
She sits spread-eagled atop the table now, the scattered billiard balls arrayed before her wide-open and willing passion. He remarks that the seven billiard balls spread before her, and her pose of seemingly protecting them, remind him of a chicken who just laid some eggs.
She smiles, for she has him now. "That's right, baby, I am a chick in heat! Only it's me that needs and wants to get laid! Come fertlize my eggs, sweetie."
He laughs, which only further encourages her antics, so now she squats down to make the billiard balls look like eggs that just dropped from this "chick."
He laughs even harder. "Laughter is GOOD," she thinks. "He's relaxed, he's forgotten about the game and the wager, and now we can enjoy the kind of fun and games that I want." He drops his hand along with his guard, and at last she can see his delicious masculine bulge. She licks her lips in desire and anticipation.
Although they never finish their game or their bet, she is clearly the winner, as she succeeds in beating the pants off of him and claiming her wonderful reward from him after all.