The Hard Body's Continuing Education Ch. 04

She snapped back to the attention when she realized that the man across from her was now using a small hand-held video camera to record her. He also used his cell phone to take a couple pictures. Somehow, she knew this would end up on the Internet. Miles did nothing to stop it, so neither did she.

"Moist heat is better for these types of injuries," Miles said. "Anyone have a heat wrap or anything?" He knew the answer would be no, so he put his index finger in her mouth. She sucked it the way she knew he wanted -- as if it was a cock, bobbing her head, hollowing her cheeks and pursing her lips. He did the same with his ring and index fingers and when they were all "wet enough" he applied his wet hand to her thigh, rubbing it again.

"Good and wet," he muttered, but not hot enough. That was his way of announcing and excusing his next act, which was to put those same three fingers into her pussy, jabbing them inside her. "This should warm them up." He pulled them out and rubbed the moist secretions from her pussy onto her thigh while the Italian sitting underneath her could hardly hold still, his hips jerking and grinding as his cock raged just centimeters from where it longed to be.

Unfortunately for him, Miles was also getting extremely horny and grabbed Cori around the waist and pulled her back on to him, quickly stuffing his bulge between her thighs, thinking seriously about pulling his cock out and doing her right here. But he knew they were getting close to their stop. Looking down, though, he had an idea. The back of her skirt was resting against his belly as her bare ass perched on his lap. Using his right hand, which was concealed from the others by her body, he stuffed the bottom of the skirt into the waist band directly above the top of her ass crack. Not that everyone on the truck hadn't gotten an eyeful already, but this would be a nice parting shot -- mooning them all -- and would make a nice first impression on anyone near the entrance to the golf course.

Cori didn't realize what he had done until the truck stopped and she stood up to get off. She realized her skirt was up and reached back to smooth it down, but Miles' firm hand on her wrist was the only signal she needed. She side-stepped back between the rows of legs, well aware that her bare ass was now inches away from the men in the row she had been sitting in while her bare nipples were poking out of her jacket top right at the faces of those who had been sitting across from her. She felt one man blow on her bare pussy and another leaned forward far enough that her ass cheek rubbed across his face. The man across from her videotaped the whole thing, getting a closeup of her nipples, no doubt.

The driver had gotten out and helped her down the step, his eyes taking her all in at once, his smiling signaling that he was in no way unhappy with any of the activities on his cab. Miles thanked him and gave him what Cori hoped was a nice tip and the cab drove off while Miles escorted Cori toward the clubhouse. He let her pull the skirt down and pull the zippers back up to conceal her nipples. He also had her pull the zipper on the jacket back up a couple of inches, still revealing ample cleavage and a glimpse of that gold chain running between her nipples.

They went into the clubhouse and Cori noted that it was all men. Before she could ask, Miles explained, "This is a men only club. There have only been a handful of exceptions made for women -- all celebrities and political figures. You're the first quote-unquote normal woman to play here."

"How did you get me in?" Cori asked.

"I showed them a few pictures, explained how you'd be dressed and waved a few dollar bills in the face of the manager," Miles said frankly. "As I'm sure you know, money and a hot ass can get you almost anything. Just put on a good show like you always do and no one will complain a bit."

"Got it," Cori said. "Well, thank you. This is quite an honor."

"Tell the manager that," Miles said. "That will get him all hot and bothered. Oh, he'll probably want some pictures for his private collection, you know the deal. Just go with it."

"Of course," Cori said. "I understand."

They approached the desk, a large, mahogany monster with real gold trim that made the obvious statement that this was a high-priced, exclusive club featuring only the finest amenities. They catered to the rich and famous. Cori was neither, but here she was anyway, catering to the rich in her own way, too. She supposed her outfit was sending the same sort of message -- in a very different way -- as the desk about what her purpose was here on this day.

A medium-built man with sandy hair and strong, blue eyes greeted them. His appearance and dark suit suggested to Cori that he might be the manager, a suspicion he himself confirmed.

"Greetings, I'm William Hildebrand, manager here," he said, shaking Cori's hand politely why his eyes roamed over her body in a most impolite manner. "Good to see you, Miles," he said, slapping Miles on the shoulder. The two obviously knew each other.

"Good to see you, Bill," Miles said. "Thanks for taking care of us today. As you can see, these are special circumstances. I hated to leave my niece all alone in the room while I played golf."

"I understand completely," Hildebrand nodded. "Would be a shame. We're happy to make exceptions to our rules when it's for good reasons such as this. I believe your partners are already waiting for you and have the equipment you requested. I'll be checking on you throughout your round to make sure you enjoy your experience. You will join me for a drink after your round, won't you?"

"Of course," Miles said, wrapping his hand around Cori's waist and leading her toward the exit that opened to the first tee. "Wouldn't miss it." As they walked away, Miles flipped the back of Cori's skirt up, flashing Hildebrand, who smiled and ran quickly upstairs to his office which overlooked the first tee. No way he was going to miss this show.

Sam and Victor met them near the practice putting green close to the first tee. Cori did a slow spin for them, showing off her outfit, which they enthusiastically approved of.

"So, shall we have a little wager to make this more interesting?" Miles asked after he had given them a brief rundown of their tennis match and ride to the golf course.

"Of course," Sam grinned. "What are teams?"

"Me and Cori against you two?" Miles asked.

"Oh, I'm not very good," Cori said quickly. "I've only played a couple times. I'll be a handicap to whatever team I'm on. Really, I can just watch you guys play."

"Don't worry," Miles said. "I'm the best golfer here, so it's only fair that I take the weakest. I saw how athletic you were this morning. You'll do fine."

"What are the stakes?" Victor asked.

"Losers pay for the drinks and dinner at the clubhouse afterward," Sam suggested.

"Deal," Miles said. It sounded good to Cori. She figured she wouldn't be paying either way -- if they won, great, if they lost, Miles would surely pick up the check. At least she hoped so. She wasn't carrying any money. Where could she possibly put it in an outfit like this?

The outfit had drawn considerable attention already and as they approached the first tee, a small gallery circled around them, making Cori feel like Tiger Woods as she prepared to tee off. She hadn't been nervous in front of the crowd on the tennis court. She was in her element there -- she knew she could play tennis well and was comfortable despite the revealing attire and sexy show she had put on. But this attire was even more revealing and she wasn't at all comfortable swinging a golf club. Plus, these guys were a little bolder and more boisterous than the guys had been this morning. She supposed it had to do with a combination of alcohol consumption and a certain bravado that came with being at a guys-only club. There were no wives or girlfriends to cast disapproving looks or stare daggers at their men. She was on their turf and she was nothing more than an object of lust and desire in this setting. They weren't used to acting like gentlemen here and the presence of one hot piece of ass with big tits sure wasn't going to do anything to stem their testosterone surge.

So, inevitably, the taunts and comments flowed freely as she bent over to place her ball on the tee, then stepped back and took a few practice swings. Though she was very comfortable in heels, it was still hard to balance as she rocked her weight back, then forward, rotating her hips and trying to keep her arms straight as Miles had instructed in a quick tutoring session before they stepped up to the tee.

"Ooh, I think the ball is a little too high," one man offered. "You better bend over again and adjust it."

"I've got a ball you can stroke, baby," another taunted.

"I like the way you grip that shaft, honey cakes."

"Bend over again so I can plant my flag in your hole!"

Some were funny, most were juvenile and predictable and a few were crude and mean. Miles, Sam and Victor shot angry glances at those last set of offenders, signaling that they had crossed the line. They loved showing their pet off to everyone and were more than happy to let them take a good look here on the first hole. If she got a little embarrassed, even humiliated by the situation that was OK, but they drew the line at blatant degradation. That hardly made them role models, just not total creeps, Cori thought, glad that they at least took a stand at some point and gave her the reassurance that she was safe at least.

She blocked out the catcalls and ignored the warm breeze gently blowing across the exposed portions of her ass cheeks and focused on the ball, slowly bringing the club back and then rotating her hips, using her toned stomach muscles to twist her body and drive the club through the ball. She was surprised when it took off, soaring majestically into the air, slicing slightly to the right as it arced gracefully onto the fairway, about two-thirds of the way to the first hole.

"Damn!" one guy said. "Bitch can play."

"Told you," Miles nodded at her as she stepped back, smiling, pleased with herself and quite surprised at how well she had struck the ball.

The others all teed off, each driving the ball further than Cori, Miles landing his shot on the green and the others laying up just in front of the green. As expected, they were all very good golfers and Cori knew that even her one nice shot wouldn't be nearly enough to help her compete with these guys. She had to hope Miles could carry their team.

They got into their golf carts -- Cori riding with Miles while Sam and Victor rode in the other -- and drove down to Cori's ball, leaving the lusty crowd behind. Miles scooped up Cori's ball as they went past. "Best ball," Miles explained as they drove on toward the green. "We each tee off, then use whichever one of us hits the best ball from there. So, we'll each take a shot from the spot where my ball landed on the green."

"Got it," Cori said, breathing a sigh of relief. It didn't matter if she had a bad shot. Miles would bail her out.

Cori took the first putt, hitting the ball too hard and knocking it off the green and down a slope back onto the fairway.

"If I make this, I get to set an obstacle, right?" Miles asked the others.

"Sure," they agreed. Obviously they had a system in place that Cori didn't understand. She gathered that the rules would change from hole to hole. No matter. She was just along for the ride at this point. She'd keep bending over and showing off for them and do her best to help Miles win.

She watched as Miles calmly sank the long putt and pumped his fist, yelling "Eagle, baby!" She wasn't sure what that meant, but obviously it was good. Both Victor and Sam successfully chipped onto the green, then watched as Miles prepared the obstacle.

"OK, on your hands and knees, Cori," Miles said. She was caught off guard. Hands and knees? Did he want to fuck her right here? Right now? Well, if they could fuck her tied to a boat in front of cruise ship full of people, what was to stop them from doing it in the middle of a beautiful private golf course?

She got on her hands and knees and Miles walked over to the hole. "Over here," he said. Cori understood that she was to crawl and did so, feeling her ass wiggle and tits jiggle as she slid her hands and knees forward on the soft, perfectly manicured grass. Her male escorts watched in appreciation of her catlike, sensuous movements and the sight of her ass and pussy, clearly visible under her mini skirt.

"Sit up," he said and she rose to her knees. She expected Miles to order her to suck his cock, but instead he quickly unzipped her jacket until only the catch held at the bottom. He snapped together a button she hadn't noticed before at her neck and pulled the sides of the jacket open so that her tits popped out of the newly created opening. The tight material squeezed in against her above and below her tits, mashing them together and forcing them to stick out even more than usual. They were big, dark cones mounted on her chest, capped by twin erasers that seemed to be growing and hardening by the second. The gold chain hung limply below her breasts as their compressed state supplied extra slack.

"Back on all fours," he said. "Straddle the hole so that your tits are right over it. Good, go a little lower -- down on your elbows." Cori did so and Miles knelt down in front of her, reaching under her to feel the clearance between her protruding nipples and the hole. There was less than an inch -- not nearly enough space for a golf ball to pass through.

He walked around to get a look from behind her -- the same view the others had. "Raise your ass a bit higher," he said, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her up. She squared up her knees and stuck her ass as high in the air as she could. "Spread your legs a little more," he said. She slid her knees out on the smooth grass, feeling the heat of the sun pound against her exposed pussy flesh, hoping that the dark, moist skin would absorb the rays without getting sunburned. She'd burned her tits before and her ass, but never her pussy. She hated to think what that would feel like. Her tits and ass were so dark now, there was no chance of burning anywhere on her body, unless it was her pussy. She hoped she wouldn't be exposed this obscenely long enough for it to be a concern.

"OK gentlemen," Miles said, stepping back to take a look at his handiwork. "Remember hitting the ball in the clown's mouth when you played mini golf as a kid? Well, think of this as the same sort of test. You have to hit it between the heels, under the creamy thighs -- watch for the dripping pussy juice! -- and between the big titties. Just like in mini golf, you can hit it off any part of her body and it's fair game. Got it?"

"Yeah," Sam laughed. "You prick. Like I'm going to be able to concentrate looking at that. Fuck. Yeah, you got it."

"Hold real still, Cori," Miles said.

Sam tapped his ball and it curved slowly across the grass, bouncing against her leg warmers and stopping between her knees. He walked up behind her and made a show of kneeling down to read the green like the pro golfers did, but all he was doing was looking at Cori's ass and pussy from about two inches away. He reached out and gave her pussy a quick squeeze and her ass a gentle slap before stand up and gently tapping the ball between her legs. Miles and Victor were kneeling down by Cori's head, watching underneath her as the ball tapped against her right nipple and bounced into the hole.

Sam happily crawled between Cori's legs and reached into the hole to retrieve his ball, tugging on her left nipple ring before retreating to let Victor take his shot. After watching Sam's shot fall short, Victor hit the ball harder, giving it good pace as it shot between her legs, under her pussy and toward the hanging cones of her tits. It slapped against the inside of her left nipple, spun along the gold chain which lay on the ground just in front of the hole and ricocheted into her right nipple. It bent her nipple sideways and stuck there, her nipple pinning the ball in place and reminding Miles of that little flag that bent back and forth before indicating whether "Price is Right" contestants had just spun for a nickel or a dollar on the "Big Wheel".

"Tough titties," Miles laughed at his stupid joke. He reached under her, tweaking her nipple before pulling the ball out and tossing it to Victor. "Looks like you guys are two strokes behind already. What's the matter? Something distracting you?"

He helped Cori up, leaving the jacket as it was with her tits popping out. He rubbed her nipples in mock sympathy, "Those balls didn't hurt too much, did they?"

"No," Cori laughed as she looked around, relieved that no one else seemed to have been watching. "Those aren't the first balls to touch my tits, you know." She laughed at her own joke, because it was a little funny and because she wanted to keep reminding these guys that she was a good sport and would go along with their crazy ideas. Keeping them happy was always important.

As they approached the second tee, a golf cart came zipping up with two young women riding on it. Cori was puzzled. She thought this was a men-only club.

"Beer guys?" the girls chirped happily. Then, when they noticed Cori's unique, bare-breasted attire, one said, "Ooh, cool jacket. Where did you get that?"

"I bought it for her," Miles said, walking over to the cart and accepting four beers from the girls. They were both attractive, one brunette, one African-American, wearing white cotton tank tops with the course's logo on the front and their names -- Monique and Katie -- on the back. They had on cotton yellow athletic shorts and white tennis shoes. They were cute and clearly hired as eye candy for the course members, their job being to look cute and deliver drinks to the players.

"I thought this was a men's only course," Cori said after they drove off.

"It is," Miles explained. "And men like nothing more than pretty young ladies, so they hire college girls or girls just out of high school who are looking for a part-time job while they take classes at one of the schools here or look for a sugar daddy to pick them up. Never been an ugly one in the bunch. But, this is a classy course, so the clothes are sexy without being too revealing. And doing any more than flirting with the members is strictly prohibited -- as long as the girls are on course time. I've seen more than a few leave with a member and I don't imagine they go off to discuss their golf games."

"I see," Cori nodded. "They didn't seem too surprised to see me here, dressed like this."

"These girls aren't exactly naïve to the way things work -- at least not the ones who have been here for a few weeks," Victor said. "Half of them came down here as someone's plaything and just decided to stay while their 50-year-old sugar daddies went back home to the family."

"Wouldn't be a bad job for you if you wanted to stay here," Sam said. "Of course, you'd probably be pretty uncomfortable. That's a lot more clothes than you're used to wearing I bet."

"I think I could get used to it if it meant living here," Cori said. She was joking, but a quick thought ran through her head. Could she just stay here year round? She could do this job and probably live off the tips -- rich guys always gave pretty girls lots of money for doing nothing more than looking pretty and maybe flashing a little skin. She could make ends meet and wouldn't have to worry about taking care of anyone but herself. It was tempting, but only for a fleeting moment. She wanted more from life. She knew she was smart enough and talented enough to do more than be a pretty toy for rich guys. And, while she had several good years left, she wouldn't be the hot young flavor of the month forever. Then what? No, she needed to start thinking about the future now. She had come here to get away, relax and refocus her life and that was what she was going to do ... as soon as she spent another day and a half as the personal, private entertainment for these three men.