Cues and holes

Foxy bent over the felt, cue braced along her thigh, while Sheila slid in close. Her hand moved higher than any casual touch would allow. Foxy pressed back, arching her hips, so the ball she meant to strike rolled off course. Sheila's fingers slipped under the hem of Foxy's skirt and found bare skin, no underwear waiting. When she rubbed between Foxy's thighs, Foxy let out a soft moan and spread her legs. The eight ball clicked against the side pocket but never fell. Sheila eased two fingers inside, slow and steady, her palm grinding against Foxy's clit with every stroke. Foxy gripped the rail for balance, knuckles pale, while her breath came short and ragged. Sheila kept pumping, her wrist flicking sharper, faster. Foxy trembled and leaked down Sheila's hand, but neither girl cared about the mess on the green cloth. They only knew the game had changed and neither planned to stop until both were shaking.