Never Bet The Dom

A fake first date fantasy… I was dressed to tease, but he was playing a darker game.

We met at a pool hall under the guise of a first date fantasy, our first time playing this game. The air was thick with the scent of mischief—his grip, my surrender, our covert glances. He called it teaching me pool, but with every stroke and bet, it was clear he was playing a deeper, darker game.

As he chalked the cue, his eyes never left mine, daring me to challenge the rules he set with each suggestive instruction. He pushed me with calculated touches flaunting the fine line between decency and display. He dared the world to watch, challenging any man to try and take what was his.

With a smirk and a whisper, he made it known—I was his to claim, right there on the felt-covered table. Every moment was a delicious dance on the edge of surrender, and all I could do was follow his lead, deeper into the game of forbidden play.

But would I revel in the thrill of his public claim or crumble under the weight of exposure?