I’m a self-confessed control freak. You have to be when you own a bar dominated by strong, competitive Alpha males who know no shame.

But you, you seem different: masculine and Alpha, undoubtedly, but without the arrogance. I study you unwavering. You don't look like you should be wearing a suit; you look like you should be scaling a mountain somewhere, or rescuing cats. You have the kind of muscularity that comes from hard work, not hard gym….

Our gazes link, and a spark of mutual curiosity sends a ripple down my body.

“Pool?” I ask, without waiting for your reply. I know it’s a yes.

Bending over the table, I line up my first shot, concentrating far harder than I need to. I could take this shot in my sleep. That’s my competitive streak, and it gets me into trouble. I arch my back and lean down so low my breasts almost touch the table. My ponytail slinks onto the green in a serpentine curl. Now not only you, but a handful of the other men are watching me avidly.

Not one of them know I fantasize every night about being taken over a table and taught some very hard lessons in lust.

Something tells me you are up for the challenge.

Warnings:

• This erotic short story contains highly graphic depictions of consensual penetrative sex and other sex acts. Please do not buy if you are easily offended.
• Miss Blaire Bardot will not be held responsible for any events that may occur during or after reading her erotic short stories.