Sure, he was good-looking, educated, and polite, but he was also very dull and selfish. Maybe his intelligence is what attracted me to him the most, but I should’ve known better than to put a man before myself.
I think a lot of younger women do that: put their boyfriend before themselves, and I was no different, but I should’ve seen the writing on the wall when I put my future on hold for the sake of his.
He didn’t have a problem with me quitting school so that only one of us had to work a full-time job—as long as that person was me. Like a lost little lamb who thought she was in love, I quickly obliged because I was head over heels.
My friends and family all told me that he should’ve been the one working full-time to support us to allow me to go to school, but I naively brushed off their advice and wore a stupid grin plastered on my face all in the name of love.
For three long, tedious, mind-numbing years, I put up with the relationship that we had—if that’s what you want to call it, but those days are gone. I already wasted my early 20’s, and now that my mid-twenties are approaching, I’ve thrown out the old Penny and brought in the new.
My first week of school was overwhelming, yet amazing at the same time. It was so nice to sit in class, take notes, learn new things, and meet new people, but now that the weekend is here, I’m ready to unload, so I decide to make a call to my friend, Sabrina, to see what she’s up to.
“Hello?” my friend, Sabrina, answers.
“Hey, girl! What are you doing tonight?” I ask her.
“Ugh. I promised to help my sister make centerpieces for all of the tables at her wedding. She’s got the whole weekend planned out for us. I’m sure it’ll be fun,” she says sarcastically.
“Why don’t you get out of it and tell her you’ve got other plans?”
“What other plans? You know me, I never go out,” she says.
“You could come out with me, have a few drinks, and have some fun!”
“I wish I could, but I can’t. She’ll kill me if I don’t show up. She’s turned into Bridezilla.” I can hear her punching the buttons on the microwave. “If I thought she was bitchy before, this wedding has brought out a whole new level of bitchiness.”
Sabrina’s sister has always been a bitch, which is why the two of them don’t get along. I remember when we were teenagers in high school, she used to barge into Sabrina’s room any chance she could so that she could butt her nose into our business. Of course, she’d always take any information that she had back to their mom and get us in trouble, so none of us liked her.
“Are you sure you can’t get out of it? I’m dying to go out.”
“Sorry, Penny, I would if I could, but I can’t. Why don’t you call Abby and see if she can go with you? She’s usually good for a night out.”
“Yeah, I think I might do that. Try not to shove any flowers up your sister’s ass,” I tease her.
“No promises,” the microwave beeps. “Listen, my food’s ready, so I’m going to go. Good luck,” she says.
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”
The whole reason why I called her first is because she’s more fun to go out with than Abby. Abby’s a party girl, for sure, but she also gets fall-down-drunk and usually requires a babysitter all night, which totally kills the mood.
Staring at my phone, I debate whether or not I should give her a call. I don’t know what to do because part of me wants someone to go out with, but the other part of me doesn’t want to deal with her drunkenness. Before I can make a decision, my phone starts ringing, and it’s her.
“Hey Abster,” I pick up the phone.
“What’s up? Sabrina said you wanted to go out tonight?”
Geez, does she have to blab everything?
“Yeah, I was thinking about going to The Impulse tonight. Are you free?”
I regret the words the instant they leave my lips, but I don’t want to be rude. Abby, Sabrina and I have been best friends since our sophomore year of high school. Besides, maybe she won’t drink much tonight, or perhaps she will. I know she will, she always does, and she gets in so much trouble when she does, too.
“Not tonight. Sabrina said you wanted to go out, but I have to clean tonight because my parents are coming in the morning. My dad’s going to measure my floors to replace them with hardwood, and then he’s going to fix my bedroom ceiling fan. We can go tomorrow, though, if you want,” she offers.
As much as I’d love to have some company, I really don’t want to wait another night, and I don’t want to have to babysit her solo.
“Tomorrow night’s not good for me,” I lie. “I have a lot of homework to do from my classes, and I figured I could use a break before I really dig in, but thanks for the offer.”
“All right,” she says. “But if you change your mind, let me know. Okay?”
“Will do,” I reply.
“I better go. My place is completely trashed, and if I want to get up early enough to let them in tomorrow, I’m going to have to get to bed at a decent time.”
“Good night, Abby,” I say, hitting the end button.
After a quick shower, I blow dry my hair and find the tightest pair of jeans I own. Owen always hated when I wore tight clothes, which makes me wiggle my ass into them that much faster. Retrieving a low-cut blouse from the closet, I pull it over my head before slipping into a pair of black pumps.
Standing before my bathroom vanity, I put on my gold hoop earrings and begin to perfectly paint my face for the evening. Pulling back my blonde, wavy hair, I apply foundation to even out my skin tone before applying a few shades of eyeshadow. To complete my look, I tightly line my eyes with black eyeliner, brush on a couple of layers of mascara, and, finally, coat my lips in shiny red lipstick.
Owen hated when I wore dark makeup, which makes me smile that much more.
“Good,” I say to myself before turning off the light.
Grabbing my purse and keys off the counter, I head out for a night of adventure—at least, I hope. How depressing would it be if I ended up going to the bar alone and sitting by myself the whole time?
I quickly dismiss that thought as soon as I walk out of my apartment complex when a group of guys hanging around the front entrance whistles at me as I walk past them. With my chin tilted high, I smile as I slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine.
Tonight will be fun.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I say, backing out of my space.
2
Mason
“Why don’t you rack ‘em while I grab us a couple of beers?” Lucas says to me.
“Yep, and don’t forget, it’s my quarter, so I go first.”
He mocks me, mumbling under his breath, “It’s my quarter, so I go first,” as he walks away, bobbing his head from side to side.
I rack the balls on the green felt that’s worn down to almost nothing. Everything about this table is original, which is why it’s one of the few that are still only a quarter. It has to be at least 25 years old, but it serves its purpose.
“Here,” he sets down a tall glass filled with foamy amber-colored liquid.
Taking a swig, I let the ice cold beer quench my thirst before I set it on the ledge behind the pool table so I can break. I sink the orange five and call solids.
“Come on, Mason,” he says after I sink two more balls. “Scratch and give me a turn.”
“You don’t like it when I run the table?” I laugh at him.
“No, I don’t like it when you take my money,” he counters.
My winning streak is up when I accidentally sink the eight-ball. “Fuck! You win,” I say, knocking back the rest of my beer. “I’ll go buy the next round while you rack and break.”
“That’s more like it,” he says.
Flipping him off, I walk over to the bar to buy us another round of beers. The barkeep is cute, but she’s not really our type.
Yes, I said our type. Lucas and I share everything.
Everything.
<
br /> From cars, jobs, friends, and women, we share everything. The only thing we don’t share is a bank account.
I summon the bartender by holding a $20 bill up in the air. “Another round of beers for my buddy and me, please?”
She pours two draft beers, and I tell her to keep the change before taking them back to the pool table. Lucas breaks but doesn’t sink any balls.
“You’re up,” he says, taking a drink from his cup. “You know, there’s something that makes a beer taste better when someone else buys it.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I lean over the pool table to take my shot, and in walks the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. Her legs practically go clear up to her neck in her black jeans that look like they’re painted onto her round, bubbly ass. She’s wearing a low-cut blouse that lays perfectly over her breasts, showing just enough cleavage to leave a little—very little—to the imagination.
Lucas and I look at each other, and we’re clearly thinking the same thing. He grins at me and nods toward the same woman.
“Now, that’s hot,” he says.
“Yeah, she is.” I can’t take my eyes off of her, she’s absolutely gorgeous. “You ever seen her before?”
We come to The Impulse pretty regularly when we’re in town, which is often since my family lives here and we do a lot of construction work in the area.
“Nope,” he steps next to me. “Can’t say that I have, but now that I’ve laid eyes on her, I’d like to see a lot more of her,” he says.
“Make that two of us,” I agree with him.
Our pool game comes to a halt as we watch her take a seat at the bar and order a drink. Lucas and I like to observe women before making our first move, so we continue watching her until after the barkeep serves her a pink girly drink.
Resting my chin on the pool stick, I say to Lucas, “Think she’s here alone?”
“Maybe. She’s awfully dressed up, and I don’t see a man with her.” He takes the next shot and sinks a striped ball. “Stripes,” he calls.
Keeping my eye on the girl, I take note of her long blonde hair and her perfect skin. She’s definitely here alone. There’s no way any man would let a woman like her go out to the bar by herself.
No fucking way.
“You’re up,” he says, smacking my leg with his pool stick.
“Ow! You fucker! What was that for?” I rub my leg.
“Gawking and taking too long,” he says, leaning against the ledge as he drinks his beer.
He might’ve given me shit for looking at her, but he’s staring, too. As I’m taking my shot, I decide to sink the eight ball on purpose. I want to go talk her before he does and the loser always buys the beer.
“Come on,” he says. “What’d you do that for?”
“It was an accident,” I shrug. “I’ll go grab us another round of beers while you rack and break,” I say.
Leaving Lucas standing at the pool table holding his stick, I walk over to the bar and stand next to her. It only takes a second or two before she notices me standing there when she looks up and smiles.
“Hi,” she says, her voice soft and smooth.
“Can I buy you a drink?” I ask.
She laughs at me, her cheeks turning slightly rosy as she shakes her head.
“You just cut straight to it, don’t you?”
Leaning against the bar, I prop myself up with my elbow as I drink in her beauty. This woman’s body screams pure sex, yet she doesn’t seem the slutty type.
“My name’s Mason,” I say, extending my hand. She doesn’t take it right away, so I say, “And you are?”
A giggle escapes her perfect lips. “Penny. My name is Penny.”
She tries to shake my hand, but that’s not why I gave it to her. I grab hold of her hand and pull it to my lips, planting a kiss on the back of her hand. Slowly, she pulls away from me, but I can tell that she’s not entirely sure that she wants to.
“It’s nice to meet you, Penny. What are you drinking tonight?”
She looks down at her drink and grins. “A cosmopolitan.”
“Bartender?” I raise my voice to catch her attention. “Two more drafts and a cosmopolitan for my friend here.” She nods and walks away to make the drinks.
“Your friend?” Penny asks. “You’re awfully presumptuous.”
“Do you like to play pool, Penny?” I nod at Lucas who’s watching the two of us like a hawk.
“I suck at pool,” she says.
“That’s my friend Lucas,” I say, nodding toward the pool table. We’re both used to this game, so right on queue, he waves at us. “Come play a game with us.”
She shakes her head. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
“Why? Are you here with someone?” I look around. I know she’s not; she’s just nervous, but we’ll get her loosened up—in more ways than one.
“No,” she says. “But I already told you, I suck at pool.”
“Ahh,” I wave my hand, dismissing her excuse. The bartender sets our drinks on the counter, so I pay. “That’s no excuse not to have fun. Come on, Penny. Play with us. I bought you a drink, so you owe me,” I give her a playful wink.
She draws in a deep breath and sighs. “All right. I’ll play, but no making fun of me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, grabbing the beers off the counter. “As a matter of fact, we’ll help you.”
She follows me over to the pool table where I introduce her to Lucas.
“Nice to meet you,” she says. “Now, your friend Mason invited me to play even though I told him I suck at it, but he promised the two of you will help me.”
“Absolutely,” Lucas says to her. “You’re in good hands here. We’ll show you all the moves.”
Lucas and I grin at each other as she chalks up the end of her pool stick. She has no clue what kind of hands she’s in, but he didn’t lie. We are good—at everything. Judging by the look of her body, I’d say she’s good at a few things herself.
“So,” she says, sweeping her hair away from her face. “Who goes first?”
“Ladies first,” Lucas says.
“Yes, ladies first,” I agree with him. “Ladies always cum first.”
My comment goes over her head, but Lucas gets it, and we both laugh.
“I’m not an idiot, I caught that,” she says.
“Well, it’s true. When a woman’s with us, we always make sure she cums first.”
3
Penny
“I suck at breaking,” I say. “I can never really break them all up.”
“There’s a trick to it,” Lucas says, walking behind me.
Mason’s sitting near the ledge, drinking his beer. I totally caught all of their dirty remarks, but I don’t care. I came out for a night of fun, and there’s no harm in some playful flirting—especially if it’s dirty. Besides, he’s cute.
They’re both cute, actually. For a minute, I thought maybe they were brothers, but after I came over to the pool table, I can see that they’re not.
Lucas is about 5’10” with evergreen eyes and a somewhat pointy chin. His light brown hair is short and spiky, and a little thin, but he’s not going bald. It’s just thin.
Mason’s probably 6’1” with pure hazel eyes, and his face is more square, but he’s very handsome. He’s somewhat more masculine than Lucas, but like I said, they’re both equally attractive. His dark brown hair is almost black, and it could use a trim, but I like the messy look.
“Here,” Lucas says, putting his crotch against my butt as he forces our bodies to lean over the pool table. His solid chest is pressed against my back as he wraps his arms around mine and covers my hands with his, and I’m almost embarrassed to say that I can feel my panties getting a little wet. “When you break,” he begins. “You have to aim the cue ball just right, and when you go to strike it,” he cups his hand around my arm. “You have to hit it with just enough force.”
Pulling my arm back and forth in a slow rhythmic motion, I can’t help but think that t
his is precisely how he likes to be jacked off. Seductively, he places his mouth right next to my ear when he says, “And then you just hit it,” his breath moves my hair, tickling my neck.
For the first time ever, I had a clean break, but I didn’t sink any balls; though I have a feeling he’d like to sink something right into me as close as we’re pressed together. I frown knowing that I didn’t do well, but they were right, this is fun.
We just started, and I’m already having a great time with these two. Maybe it’s the flirting, perhaps it's the way these two behave when they’re together, but they’re both so fucking hot. When I turn around, Mason’s staring at my ass and doesn’t even try to hide it.
“My turn,” he says, getting off the barstool.
I sit in his seat and sip my cosmopolitan as I watch him. Lining up his shot, I watch the muscles in his arms flex with every tiny movement he makes. It’s hotter than hell, and when he takes his shot, he sinks two balls at once—both solids.
“Now that’s how you want to start off,” he teases. “Come here, I’ll give you some pointers. I’m much better than Lucas.”
I bet he is, in more ways than one. Maybe I’m more attracted to him because he came over and talked to me first, or maybe it’s because he’s the taller of the two, but I’d definitely say that I like him more than Lucas; although, they’re both very hot.
Getting out of my seat, I walk over to him where he’s waiting for me with a handsome smile on his face. He has a small dimple that I hadn’t seen before, and I love it on him. It’s very suiting for him.
“Here, take the stick,” he says with a slight laughter catching in his throat.
“Very clever,” I say.
Doing as he says, I take the pool stick from him, and he wraps himself around my body like a glove, holding me tight as the two of us stretch over the table just as I had with Lucas. My panties are still slightly wet, but with Mason’s skin pressed against mine, my nipples begin to tingle.
Taking our shot, I completely miss. The white cue ball slowly spins and bounces into a few balls, but I don’t sink anything. Shaking my head over the pool table, Mason sweeps my hair back from my face and whispers, “It’s okay. Next time, I’ll make sure it goes in.”
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