None of them can seem to shoot straight

Smiling flirtatiously at the boys you take a deep gulp.

"Why don't you break, Jenny?" Josh suggests, earning a blank look from you. "Just hit this ball at those ones there and see if you can knock any in the pockets.

"Okay," you say with a shrug. They are paying for the drinks, after all, and if you play it right they might help you out with the laundry money. After all, guys are pretty easy and dumb, you think as you bend over the table with your legs spread, inadvertantly flashing the entire bar.

Your first shot doesn't do much to disturb the balls, mostly because you nearly miss the white ball entirely with your cue, sending it ever-so-slowly drifting toward the rest until it touches them with a faint click.

"Oops," you mutter, watching from your bent over position. You're pretty sure that was a horrible shot, and take a drink to sooth the embarrassment.

"Well that's alright, we're not that good either," Kyle says, and moves around the table to where you are. Putting his hand on the base of your spine he pushes you away, letting go before you can object to his touch. You're still thinking of whether you should say something when his shot nudges the balls just a little harder than yours, loosening the triangular formation.

"Damn that sucked," he says, brushing past to make room for Trevor as you take a drink.

Somehow in spite of your inept playing the game remains competitive, with each of you making one lousy shot after another. Still, you must be doing something right - after each of them shoot they come over to make their shot near you.

At first you barely hold your tongue when they put their hands at the base of your spine or the sides of your waists to nudge you aside, but their hands don't linger. Besides, they bought you the first beer, and when that's gone they get you a second.

As the four of you laugh at each others' lousy shots you feel yourself relax, warmth and tingliness spreading throughout your body from the ****, and maybe even from the casual hands upon your bare skin. When the third beer comes...