Sexy snooker

Jasmine sucks at pool. Every time the cue slips in her grip she swears the table tilts just to laugh at her. Problem is, her legs already know every angle. One minute she’s lining up a lousy bank shot, the next her thighs have somebody locked between them, bare ass catching the edge of the felt like it’s their favorite seat. Her form is still a mess—hips tilting too far, shoulders dropped—but her calves flex just right, and that brings the show home. Panties shoved aside, slick skin sliding against expensive green cloth, each roll of her pelvis a better stroke than any she manages with the stick. She mouths an apology between breathless laughs, promises next round she’ll really try, then presses those strong thighs tighter, jerking and squeezing until the balls scatter harder than she ever could on purpose. Practice makes perfect, sure. Just maybe not at billiards.