Chapter 3: Nine Ball

Mark slid the unneeded balls into the pockets around the table and then took the balls one through nine and collected them in the rack. He centered the diamond-shaped collection of balls on the table and moved to the other side as Rita returned.

“Good luck,” she said as she handed him his cue. “You’re the guest so you can break first.” It was not much of a concession. She was a much better player than Mark and they both know it, but it did not stop Mark from offering a bravado response.

“Don’t need it, I’ve been practicing.”

Rita shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Mark leaned over the table, steadied himself, and then gave his cue a hard shove willing it to connect solidly with the cue ball. The break worked as desired, which caused the racked balls to explode in a resounding crack. The one and four balls both rocketed into a pocket.

“Lucky break,” scoffed Rita.

Mark shook his head and confidently walked to behind the cue ball. He peered over it and saw that he has an easy shot on the two, but then he saw his gamble. If instead of taking a straight shot with the two, he had an angle to make a combo shot with the two into the nine. Knowing that Rita will easily kick his ass without a bit of luck he shifted his angle of approach on the cue ball.

“Wondering if you saw that,” said Rita. “It’s a really tricky shot. You sure you want to gamble on a long shot versus a nice-and-easy pocket for the two?”

Mark did his best to ignore Rita and lined up his shot. He slowly pulled back the cue stick and released it into the cue ball with an easy touch. The cue ball struck the two as expected, and then as if the balls followed a plan drawn on a board, the two ball kissed the nine which then gently rolled into the corner pocket.

“Good shot. Lucky as hell, but still a good job,” said Rita as she passed Mark the pocketed balls to re-rack them.

Mark grinned sheepishly. “I’ll take whatever I can get tonight.”

“Uh huh,” said Rita. “Rack ‘em.”

Mark took his place behind the cue ball again and reared back for another solid break. This time the cue again connected solidly with the white ball. None of the balls immediately flew into a pocket, but as the movement slowed on the table they both saw the nine ball simultaneously. It was ever so slowly rolling directly to a pocket. Mark’s eyes went wide as he willed the ball to continue for just another inch or two.

Plop.

“No fucking way,” exclaimed Rita.

“Must be doing something right,” laughed Mark. “And for the record, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever sunk the nine on the break.”

“Yeah. Well, we’ll play a best of seven, OK? Rack ‘em.”

Up two games to none, Mark prepared to break the rack for the third game. As he leaned over the cue ball he saw Rita move to the far end of the table. She leaned over to check the alignment of his shot.

“Hmm, think that is the right angle,” she prompted.

Mark looked and saw that while Rita was leaning over the table he had a clear view down her t-shirt. Her bra is red and lacy and cut low on her breasts, but not low enough to expose a nipple.”

He tried to concentrate on the break but missed his mark by a few millimeters. The cue ball connected with the one to avoid a scratch, but does little to break up the racked balls.

“Oh, tough break,” said Rita as she quickly took her position behind the cue ball and lined up the one for a direct shot into the side pocket. With little pause between each shot she easily worked the table and dropped the nine ball without giving Mark another chance.

“Two games to one,” he announced. “Rack ‘em.”

Rita now took her first shot at a break. She leaned deeply over the table before taking the shot. Mark ostensibly went to the far side to look at the angle of her break, but they both knew he wanted another look down her shirt.

Unlike Mark, Rita is not shaken by the attention and delivered a perfect strike, sinking three balls on the break.

“Now that’s a good stroke,” said Rita as she slowly stroked her pool cue.

Like the previous game Rita ran from one shot to the next. However, she made a mistake on the last ball. She struck the nine ball a bit too hard and it bounced off the back of the pocket and landed just inches from the edge of the pocket.

Mark was shocked and took a moment to respond.

“Merry Christmas,” said Rita, clearly mad at herself for a missed easy shot. She walked to the offending corner pocket and observed the lay of the nine ball.

“Anyone should be able to make this shot, but I’m not going to give it to you,” she teased.

Mark addressed the cue ball and looked to the target pocket. Rita again leaned over the pocket. Her breasts droop to either side of his target, barely contained by her lacy bra.

“Do you have the right stroke to make it into the hole?” she asked in a whisper.

Mark took a deep breath and then hit the ball with an ease he did not expect from his perspiring hands.

Plop. Three games to one.

“One game away from the series win,” hooted Mark.

When Mark took his spot to start the fifth game Rita made no pretense of her position. From the far side of the table she leaned over and looked at the cue ball. She held her cue stick with both hands and her shirt was clearly gaping open to give an unobstructed view of her chest. Mark felt the blood start to collect in his dick as it pushed against his pants. He knows he will have a full-blown erection in no time if she keeps this up.

“Let’s see if you’ve got it in you for a second time tonight,” she said. As Mark started to line up his shot she stuck her tongue out and licked the cue the stick. It has the desired effect. Mark shanked his shot and pushed the cue ball directly into a side pocket.