Snooker Loopy

It isn't crucial for this story that you have any knowledge of Snooker but it may help if you do. For those who know little or nothing of Snooker, you can either go on Wikipedia or better still, listen to 'Snooker Loopy' by Chas 'n Dave and the Matchroom Mob. It's a very well known and popular song in Great Britain.

I prefer the early week visit to the snooker club, Mondays and Tuesdays are always quiet and I need that now. My confidence is pretty low at the moment and not just because of the snooker. My girlfriend ditched me last night. Four years, all but a month we'd been together. Thinking about it today, she thought I was going to hit the big time. She, Emma, looked at the riches that Mrs. O'Sullivan and Mrs Selby must have access to and wanted in at ground level.

Two weeks until Q-club and if I want to be there then I need to up my game. Last month I was out in the first round of the Midlands Grand Prix without really getting my hand on the table.

I'd had a good couple of years prior to that. Only one match away from the UK Masters qualifiers. Beaten finalist in the Midlands after a semi-final place the year before.

Nearly but not quite.

I've had success locally and you can make a little money, plus plenty of freebies and sponsorship.

Anyway, I must step it up and tonight I need to improve my game and build some confidence.

I arrive at the club a little before seven. They've only been open for half an hour and only one table is lit up in the main hall. The match room is off limits at the moment as the baize is due to be re-layed.

I approach the bar to book a table but there's no-one there, so I peer through the large window into the snooker hall.

The one table lit up is occupied by 2 men, probably in their sixties. One is chuntering away as the other prepares a shot. It's the last thing I'd want while I was lining up a shot. But I feel a little envious of these old mates. I haven't played for fun in ages, just practice, competition, practice, competition. Eat, sleep, repeat.

"Hi, Ellis. Which table tonight?" Bailey's soft sexy voice breaks my thoughts and lifts my spirits.

"Erm, one, I think. Opposite corner from those two please." I hope that I sound cool and calm but I never feel it when I'm around Bailey. "Is the matchroom ready yet?" I ask.

I take the opportunity to look at Bailey's bum as she bends to pick me a tray of balls from behind the bar. She's wearing a tight black skirt which reaches mid-thigh. She has black tights on (maybe stockings!) and high heels. Her upper frame is barely contained by a plain white shirt.

"It should, hopefully, be being re-layed in a couple of days. Not all the electrics are done. But the light over the table works, so, the room is useable."

"I'll wait till it's all done, thanks."

She places the tray of balls on the bar and slides them over to me. She leans forward and rests her heaving bosom on the bar.

"So, drink? " Bailey asks with a grin. My eyes quickly flicker back up to meet hers.

"Er, yes, er, just a diet Coke, please." I know she caught me checking out her rack and I'm sure she's used to it, but I know I should be better than that.

Bailey stifles a laugh and says "It's Pepsi is that okay?"

"Oh, yeah fine."

"I'll bring it out to you."

I thank her and head through to my table. Time to focus.

The two old guys are nearing the end of a frame. I can't make out if it's a close one but the one at the table looks anguished as he has just missed an easy blue. I nod a greeting to the other guy as I pass.

I place the rack of balls on the table and try, as always, to roll the baulk colours onto there respective spots. I've never managed it but have been close before.

I hear one of the old guys say something and I hear Bailey's dirty laugh. I try to rack up the reds and secretly watch her as she struts sexily towards me. A red ball slips from my grasp, hits the wooden framed triangle and rolls off to the baulk end.

"Butterfingers!" Bailey teases as she puts my drink on the table.

I smile sheepishly as she rolls the red under her palm as she walks back up to where I'm positioning the black.

"Thanks." I murmur as she places it in my hand. She keeps hold of it for a little longer than necessary as she fixes me with her big hazel eyes and smiles.

"No problem." She turns on her high heels and walks away.

She knows I'm watching her, as she wiggles that luscious, round butt. She knows the old guys did the same on the way up here, too. She knows the effect she has on sad little losers like me.

I wrench my eyes back to the table and drop the red into the frame.

I placed the rest of the colours on their spots, prepared my cue, placed the cueball and readied myself for the perfect break...

Four reds split from the pack and spread out into space on either side of the pack.

The cueball doesn't even reach the baulkline.

If I were my opponent, I'd already be at the table with a grin on my face.

As I consider a re-rack, I notice one of the old guys approach the table.

"You, er, the local professional aren't ya?"

"No, not yet... maybe not ever with a break like this." I try to appear friendly but I'd rather he butted out of it.

"Well, you'll do well to concentrate with that barmaid strutting her stuff." His old face lit up as a pervy, toothless grin stretched across it.

I was a bit disgusted and I've never been one for what they call 'locker room' talk. I think Bailey's beautiful inside and out. But if I just play along he might fuck off.

"Yeah, that butt's fantastic." I can't believe I just said that! I cringe as the words tumble out of my mouth and I squirm inside.

"Well best of luck to ya. Perhaps we'll see you on the telly soon." He turned and left with a chuckle. I looked to his mate who had just broken off and he just raised his head to me. The international sign for 'sorry about my friend'.

I re-rack and start again. Better this time so I have to work for my first pot. A long red rattles the jaws and drops in and I'm nicely on the black.

After a few good pots and a steady break of twenty-nine, I hear the door open again and sense Bailey's presence in the room. The two guys mutter something to her and she puts their empties on a tray. I need to stay focused, I know this is a public room and I understand that she has a job to do but does she have to be so damn sexy while she does it.

An easy red over the centre pocket to leave me on the blue, sticks in the jaws and stays out. I bow my head and mutter a profanity.

Gentle laughter breaks out from the far end of the room. I try to ignore it but I look up and see the three of them looking at me. I give a rye smile and start to gather the balls.

I decide to just play the colours, potting them off their spots. As I knock them in I can sense Bailey approaching. I can hear her nylon clad legs rub against each other as she swaggers towards me and her high heels knocking on the floor with each step. I look up to take in the breath-taking sight. I smile, genuinely and broadly to her.

"Sorry about that Ellis. They're quite engrossed in watching you rather than playing their own game. We didn't mean to put you off." She tilted her head and smiled a sympathetic smile. Her light brown tousled hair resting on her shoulder.

"It's fine, I'm not in great form anyway. I think I'm just going to have to accept it, this is as good as it gets." If it sounds as though I'm fishing for sympathy, it's because I am. Maybe she'll put her arms around me and tell me to keep going.

"Give me a few minutes and I might be able to help you." Bailey gave me a wink, span on her heels and walked away, swaying her hips as she did so.

I watched her as she breezed between the tables, her head turned in the direction of the two men. The two men were turned towards me. Me watching her, watching them, watching me. I didn't care. A woman like that, what's a man to do but gawp.

I went back to the table and just started potting balls at random. Sometimes this helps me focus before I start a fresh.

Only the yellow remained and I smashed it into the top left pocket with as much power as I could muster. The white rattles around the table hitting pretty much every cushion twice before coming to rest. That felt good and I feel all the better for it.

I go around the table collecting the balls from the pockets. I look up to see the two men doing the same but they are putting them in the tray, they must be leaving. Leaving me alone.... with Bailey!

As they head to the door they turn and say goodnight and wish me luck. Is that good luck with the snooker or good luck with the girl?

Them leaving gives me the chance to refocus my efforts and get back to building a bit of confidence. Once again I try to roll the colours onto their spots. The green lands bang on! One small pathetic 'win' to build on.

I am just framing the reds when the door in the corner opens. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the light, is the sensational curvaceous figure of Bailey.

"Matchroom's ready, if you are?" Bailey lent against the doorway, her demeanour was cheeky and suggestive. Or was it all in my imagination.

"Oh, well...." I looked down at the table. "I've just set up for another frame." I mumble nervously.

Bailey giggles and says, "Don't worry about that. I've left you a tray in the room. You go up and I'll clear those away."

"Right, I suppose... Are you sure it's alright to use the table up there?"

"Don't worry about it. If anyone can use it, it's our Champ!" She smiles and leans back against the doorframe to show that I can go up.

I grab my cue and case and move towards Bailey in the doorway. I get closer and she shows no sign of moving, am I meant to squeeze past?

"Go right on up." She smiles, with a sort of knowing innocence, still refusing to make room. I hold my cue out in front of me and kind of siddle past. I squeeze my way through, my back rubbing against hinge of the door and the frame.

It's close, it's intense, she smells divine!!

Bailey raises an eyebrow and smirks as I take the first step up to the Matchroom. If she's supposed to be helping me then she needs to 'give it up'.. (Take that phrase however you wish).

I reach the door to the matchroom and as I open it I look back. Bailey has gone. What does she want? Is she just teasing me? Or could something happen?

I enter the room and I can smell that it's been given a lick of paint and there's a few new features and pictures put up but it's still the same old wallpaper and light fittings.

I go over to the table, the cloth is worn and I can see a couple of small holes in it. This is no help to me. Why has she put me up here?

I start to take the balls out of their tray and place them on the table. I play my usual game and roll the green towards its spot. I shake my head as I watch it veer off towards the cushion. This table is warped to fuck. That is the technical term, I believe.

I carry on regardless, even though it's like playing under water. My breaks rarely make it into double figures and I give up trying to pot the black into one pocket.

After around 10 minutes, the door opens and Bailey steps in with another drink for me and pinky-red cocktail, presumably for her, on a tray. She sets the tray down.

"Is it better up here?" She asks.

"Er, yeah. Great!" I lie. It's then when I see the other glasses on the tray. "Are they shots?"

"Yeah! I thought we'd have some fun." Bailey replied with a huge grin.

"But what if someone comes in?" I ask nervously.

"They'd have to break in." She said. "I locked up. It's just you and me." Her big beautiful eyes widened as she spoke.

"Oh!" Was my considered response.

She slid her sexy ass along the mahogany panelling of the table until she was stood right by me.

After a pause of a few seconds while I line up my shot, she says. "How do you know which ball to go for, Ellis?" Bailey looked me straight in the eye as she stood close to me. A musky fragrance mixed with a beery scent filled my nostrils.

"Well, um, it's red first and..." I begin nervously before she cuts in.

"I'm joking! I was brought up around the game." She smiles and moves her body up close. I can feel heat emanating from her. I'm sweating and looking for a way out.

"D-do you wanna go?" I ask and step away from her, offering my cue.

Bailey takes the cue and steps back from the table to pick a ball to aim for.

"That red up by green, see if you can pot it."

"What's in it for me if I do?" Bailey asks suggestively.

A few ideas flash through my head but I'm far too shy to say them. "Er, I'll pay for those shots."

"Deal!" Bailey makes a scene of bending over to take the shot, wiggling her butt as she does so. Doing this causes her to rub her legs together making a 'phut‐phet' sound with her tights.

She takes a good few seconds to line up her shot, giving me a quick glance as she does. I guess this is to see if I'm looking at her or at the table. My eyes are firmly on her stance, purely for my critique of course.

She prods the cueball and it rolls at medium pace up the table, connecting with the red and sending it into the top pocket. It doesn't even rattle in the jaws, just straight in.

"Good shot!" I say. A pricey one too.

"Thanks. Although I should have said that I've played before." Her gorgeous smile makes her face light up and eyes shine. "I don't play often though, just the occasional shot when someone lets me."

"So your not on the tables whenever it's quiet?" I ask.

"No, I play pool though. But I don't really understand snooker. A few guys the other week offered to show me." She looked at me with a puzzled expression. "They said they wanted to get me on the table and choose whether to go for pink or brown. What part of the game is that, Ellis?"

"Er, I think they may have been, er, being a bit vulgar.." I felt myself going as red as one of the balls, surely she's not that innocent.

A cheeky grin spread across her face before she broke into laughter. "Your face, then. Do you really think I don't hear that ALL the time?"

My embarrassment overload makes me feel even more uneasy in her presence and then she moved closer to me. I'm sweating in places I never knew it was possible to.

"So, are we having those shots now?" She asks, she's right in close to me now. Practically rubbing herself against me. My dick is beyond just a semi and is trying to find some room in my tight trousers.

"Yeah, sure." I siddle round the table awkwardly due to my discomfort.

"You're walking funny." I could see her biting her lip. "Are you all right?"

"Er, yeah. I think I pulled a muscle or something. Happens now and again."

I try to walk back normally but soon became conscious of how I was walking and feel embarrassed. If she's teasing me and leaving me, then she needs to stop. If there's a something genuinely on offer here, then......let's do it!

I hand her the shot glass, she puts it to her lips and jerks her head back, her wavy brown locks swoosh back and forth with it. I slowly and reluctantly put mine to my lips. It smells sickly-sweet, certainly not my idea of a nice drink.

"Go on then, don't sip it. That's why it's called a shot." She puts her hand to the bottom of the glass and pushes. I neck it, then shudder as it goes down. "Haha! Not a shot drinker, then?"

With my eyes watering and my mouth coated in tacky sweetness, I screw my face up and go for my drink.

"Ok, I won't force you to have the other one."

As I attempt to regain whatever composure I had, Bailey slides her bum along the table, close, much closer than before. The heat from her body, the sweet perfume, her left breast squashed against my arm. Still laughing at me she put her face right up close. Her eyes fixed on mine. I'm not always the quickest to cotton on but I take this as a come on. I tilt my head towards hers, our lips parted slightly, millimetres apart. She holds it there.... is she just teasing me or.....

I feel her wet warm tongue slip inside almost as soon as our lips meet. There is no 'getting to know you' time, it's straight to full on passionate snogging. Her hands clench my head as if to hold me in place. No need, I'm going nowhere! My own hands hover by her sides, waiting for a command from my brain which is still unsure whether this is really happening.

My hands gradually make contact with her hips. I feel my way up slowly at first, pulling her shirt out from her skirt as I ruffle it. Her heaving breasts press against my body, firm and perky. Tongues wrestling, hands roaming, bodies attempting to merge. I don't know where this is heading but I'm enjoying the moment. Bailey lifts her leg so that her thigh rests on my hip, my hand supports it, stroking her skirt. My little finger brushes the soft nylon of her tights, I hope I at least get to run my hands up her legs while they're still on, I find them such a turn on.

Bailey pushes me away with a fully extended arm and fingers splayed. She looks vampish, her head slightly bowed, with her ruffled hair hanging down. She reaches up and unbuttons her shirt. "Are you ready?" She asks as she exposes a white lacey bra.

"What...Here?.....Now?" I have to ask, this still feels like a trick.

Bailey giggles. "Yeah, of course here. Don't tell me you haven't fantasised about shagging on one of these." She strokes the cloth and raises her eyebrows at me.

I didn't know what to say, I mean of course I've always wanted to do it on a table and my fantasies have mainly involved Bailey. I didn't say anything, I just started pulling my t-shirt over my head.

Bailey leant back on both her arms and pushed herself up so that she was sitting on the edge of the table. "I used to do gymnastics when I was younger, watch this." Bailey pushed down with her arms and lifted her bum off the table. She held herself there for a second before stretching her right leg out in front of her. Her legs always looked good but now, with one stretched out like this, they looked glorious! Bailey jiggled her foot a couple of times until she popped her heel out of her shoe. She dangled it, then flicked it so that it landed right on the tip of her big toe. I was mesmerised by the sight of her sexy, nylon clad heel. Maybe she wants me to take it off for her. As I think about stepping forwards she allows it to drop. "Oops! Clumsy!" Bailey looks at me with a saucy grin. She finally sits back down and shuffles back further onto the table. She then raised her other leg, angled it out and pointed her shoe towards me. "Why don't you take this one off."

I approached her tentatively, wanting to savour every moment. Although I was now sure sex was on the cards (table), I wanted to make sure I took advantage of as many fantasies and kinks that were on offer. I lightly grasp the stiletto heel with my fingers while I place my other hand on her shin. Her tights feel so smooth, almost frictionless, as I slide my hand down to her ankle. I utilise both hands to pull and push her shoe off as slowly as possible, feeling every contour of her foot as I did so. I stoop and place the shoe down, bringing my face wihin inches of her foot. I fight the urge to kiss her cute toes, but I don't want her to think I'm weird now.

As I come back up, Bailey places her foot flat on my stomach. She slides it down and presses her heel against my stiff cock. "Get those off and get up here." She commanded.

I don't waste any time. I kick off my shoes and hurriedly pull down my trousers. Bailey has pushed all the remaining balls to the cushions and lays back, waiting.

I clambered up onto the table as smoothly and coolly as I could and lay side on next to her. I'd never realised how bright the overhead light on a snooker table is until I was under it. Bailey squinted up at me, still looking gorgeous but a bit uncomfortable. Maybe she's having second thoughts.