Train Rides and Golf Clubs

I started blushing, "I see."

Steve took a bite of his sandwich and I did the same. I drank more wine as I thought through the implications of what he had said. It was too late. The horse had bolted, the cat was out of the bag. Elvis had left the building. Everyone would already know-or know very soon-that I was a bit of a slapper.

"Oh God." I said as it all hit me.

"Not to worry," Steve replied. "I am sure it will be OK. It is not the first time, and probably won't be the last-though I really don't know how long the colonel's heart will keep going at this rate."

I chuckled.

"It will all blow over soon-as soon as he makes another conquest." He smiled, "And at his current rate of knots, by this time next week, it will all be forgotten."

"You think I'll keep my job?"

"Oh, I should think so." He winked. There'll be plenty of members wanting to check the voracity of the colonel's stories.

"Oh God. What have I let myself in for?"

I put down my sandwich and swallowed the rest of my wine.

"Thirsty?" Said Steve.

"Not so much," I said, "More like bracing myself."

Then Steve was laughing.

"Look, Nicki. I think you just need to relax about the whole thing. Really. Don't worry. The club likes you. We think it would be great to find a place for you to carry on here. But, just one question."

"What's that?"

"Do you actually play golf?"

"Not really. I replied, "Only if there's a windmill getting in the way of the hole. You know, crazy golf."

"I see," He replied. "Well, if you're going to be an effective employee of the club, I think you need to understand a little more about the game."

I nodded.

"So, I have arranged that you spend the afternoon with me and I'll teach you some golf. OK?"

I shrugged, "Sure. Thanks, Steve."

He took me over to his office and found me some suitable clothes-they were all new, samples sent by suppliers in the hope that the club shop would pick up the new lines. I put on a pair of slacks, and some nice two-tone golf shoes. The jumper was plain (not Pringle) and fit me quite tightly. Then a plain dark wind-cheater and I was ready to go. Steve led me out to the beginning of the course. He had got a golf cart ready, with his clubs and a set for me.

"Look," He said. "It would be good if we can take our time. There is a foursome about half way around the course, and another four with a tee time in about fifteen minutes. Let's take the cart up to the 9th tee and start there. It will take ages for the next group to catch up and we'll be just behind those in front of us. While you're just starting, they're bound to be faster than us."

"Sounds good." I replied. I jumped onto the golf cart with him and off we went. It took us a few minutes to get out to the ninth tee, and I started to get a sense for how big a golf course is. I could see the group of men on the green as we arrived at the tee.

Steve took out a wood, put a ball on the tee, and started talking me through how to swing. I just smiled and nodded; I thought I could mimic what he was doing, and he showed me the details of how he twisted his fingers together to grip the club. When the others hand finished on the green, he gave a final look then gave the ball a mighty thwack down the fairway.

"Wow." I said, "Impressive."

"Your turn," he replied.

It was all harder than it looked. He'd managed to balance the ball on the tee with one hand while holding the club. I ended up dropping the ball, putting down the club and bumbling about before I was standing next to the ball and getting ready to swing. Steve let me have a go without any help at all, but when I went to swing at the ball, I closed my eyes and missed the thing completely. At least he didn't laugh.

"OK," he said. "Good points: your grip looks good, and the golf ball is staying on the tee."

I looked at him with a mock frown and pouted.

He chuckled. "Nobody gets it right first time."

Steve stood behind me and leaned over me, talking me through my swing. His hands gently gripping my hands and shadowing my movement-slight adjustments in my stance and my grip. He was so close I could smell his aftershave, feel the warmth of his legs, his body. "Now," he said, "Try again."

He stepped back and I took another swing. "Gently does it."

Thwack! Well, this time at least I connected with the ball. it went off-quite low to the ground and off to the left, ending up in some trees. But I was all smiles-grinning from ear to ear. "Much better." He said. "Now let's go see if we can find your ball."

"But isn't it your turn?"

"That's not how it works, Nicki. The person whose ball is furthest from the hole goes next..."

"And that's me."

"That's you."

"Could be my turn for a while."

"We'll see." He smiled. He was trying to be encouraging.

We got into longer grass, then bushes and then trees-the air smelled of pine, there were needles underfoot and it seemed very dry too. We looked around and it didn't take us too long to find my ball. Right next to a tree.

"How am I supposed to hit it from there?"

Steve chuckled, "It's a tricky shot, but you can give it a go if you want."

"I can't just move the ball?"

"Well, you can..." He hesitated, "But you have to take a forfeit."

"What kind of forfeit?"

"Usually a stroke."

"What kind of game is this?"

"I mean a golf stroke."

"Is that a special kind of stroke?" I really didn't know-I wasn't being intentionally dim.

"It means we count it as if you have hit the ball an extra time." He explained.

"Ah. I see."

"But, I suppose we might be able to devise other forfeits."

"Like..."

He took a step towards me. "Well..." He whispered, "After what the colonel was telling me this morning, I did wonder..."

I raised my eyebrows, "Oh you did, did you?"

"Mmmm hmmm." He nodded.

"And how many strokes would that be worth?" I smiled, eyes twinkling.

"Oh. I am sure we could come to an... amicable arrangement."

I bit my lip, then said, "You seem very amicable."

"Oh I am, I am."

I took a step closer to him, our noses were almost touching. Without my heels I was maybe three or four inches shorter than him. I put my hand on his thigh. "If I stroke your thigh like that, what's that worth."

"Oh, not very much I am afraid. I could probably move your ball six inches or so from where it is."

I shook my head, "That's really not enough, is it?"

I raked at his thigh through his trousers, "And now?"

"Maybe a foot?" he smirked.

I slid my hand over his crotch, feeling his growing cock in my hand. I gave it a squeeze and just raised my eyebrows as if to ask, "And now?"

He swallowed, "Now we might be getting somewhere."

I grinned. "I think I can get the hang of this game." I unzipped his fly and slipped my hand inside, caressing his cock, then slipping it out-it was growing in my hand. I started stroking his cock as it grew, until I had eight solid inches (and thick!) throbbing in my hand.

"You have definitely got the fundamentals." Said Steve.

My other hand cupped his sack and gave it a squeeze. "But I need to do better at ball control." I quipped.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied. "I think you're doing very well."

I knelt down in front of him and looked up as I stroked him. I lifted his cock upright and leaned in, licking at his balls. I opened my mouth and took one of his testicles into my mouth, humming, breathing through my mouth, swirling it around with my tongue.

"Oh sweet Jesus," he said, and I felt he knees go weak.

I took his other testicle into my mouth as well, and sucked on them both-feeling his cock twitch in my hand in response. Then I rubbed at his cock, faster and faster. I didn't expect him to come as fast as he did, I kind of wanted to swallow his load, but I still had his balls in my mouth when he erupted and shot his cum over my head, leaving me a sticky mess in my hair.

"Now, that's really not fair," I said. "You've had your fun, but I've not had mine..."

"Good God Nicki, that was amazing. I have never ever felt anything like that before. I just couldn't help myself."

"Then I think that's exactly what I'm going to have to do."

"What?"

"Help myself."

I had had a wicked idea. Wicked enough that it might just get Steve ready for another round. I sat down on the bed of pine needles and lifted up my jumper, showing off my bra. I unclipped it and lifted my boobs out so that they showed above my bra and below my jumper (I was still wearing the windcheater as well, you know). Anyway, my boobs were on show,so I started playing with them, cupping them, pressing them together, pinching and twisting my nipples.

Steve just stood there, watching me, dumbstruck. I was really enjoying myself. I popped the button on my slacks and unzipped them. One hand still caressing my own boobs, the other sliding between my legs. Of course I was already wet and it didn't take long for me to slip two fingers into my pussy. Slowly sliding them in and out, in and out. I worked my slacks and knickers down my thighs and then down to my ankles (couldn't get them passed my shoes). Then, with my legs spread I could slip three fingers into myself and give myself a good frigging. Steve knelt down beside me; he couldn't stop himself reaching out and grabbing a handful of tit.

"Make yourself useful," I said, "And pass me a putter."

In a daze, Steve did as I asked, and handed me his putter. I held the metal head of the club against my thigh-it was cold, and made me tingle. I slowly slid it up my thigh until it brushed my labia, then slipped the tip between my lips and into my sopping cunt.

"Oh Fuck," said Steve. This was enough for him, and I could see his cock starting to swell again.

Holding the shaft of the putter between my tits, I slipped the head in and out of my pussy, fucking myself with it. The cold metal felt amazing inside me. In and out, in and out, fucking myself with the small metal cock.

"You're fucking amazing," he growled.

I was certainly turned on, but it wasn't enough. I wanted more. So I leaned back, lying on the ground now, and teased myself with the club's handle. The leather of the handle felt totally different as I pushed it inside me-not nearly as cold or as slippery as the metal. But I could take more of it, and it was thicker. Inch by inch, I eased the putter's handle inside of me, and Steve started rubbing his hardening cock. Little by little, I got more of the club inside me, until I felt as full as I had with Jacko that morning, "Oh God, yes." I whispered, "Yes."

I glanced over at Steve, and saw that he was now sporting a raging hard-on. Well, flesh and blood cock is better than a golf club, so it was time to switch. I told him to lie down, then kicked off my shoes so I could take my slacks right off. Then I stood over him, and crouched down, feeding his cock inside me, with my back to him. Slowly, slowly, I took more of him inside me until, kneeling on the ground, I had every inch of him inside. Steve started thrusting upward, and I met each thrust as I bounced up and down on his cock. I could reach down and play with his balls as I fucked him. Well, Steve wasn't short of staying power. He fucked me hard and fast for an age.

After a while I stood up, turned around and slid back down onto him. Then I rubbed at the hard little nub of my clit as we fucked, and he mauled my tits-pinching at my nipples, raking at the soft flesh of my chest. On and on, I was sweating and tired, but Steve kept on fucking me. He grabbed my waist and lifted me off, then got me on my knees and fucked me like a bitch from behind, with each hand squeezing a tit. Oh God, it was good. He pushed a finger into my arse and I squealed. His knuckles were pressing into my bum cheek and I was coming; my pussy gripped his cock, and my arse his finger, as I fell forward onto the ground and felt the orgasm tear through me.

But he was still going. Unstoppable. I was exhausted, but he kept going, hammering into my cunt with all his might.

On and on, he fucked me, relenting only long enough to turn me over, lift my legs over his shoulders and fuck me again. His hands on my breasts (oh how he loved my tits) and ramming his massive cock deep into me, balls slapping against me as he hammered and hammered away. I couldn't have stopped him if I wanted to (what makes you think I'd want him to?); he fucked harder and faster and deeper and harder and faster and deeper until it was all a blur. I came over and over again; my cunt throbbing with pleasure and at last, with a final gargantuan thrust, he came. I felt like he'd split me in two, as I arched my back to get every last inch of him inside me. And I came with him, biting at his shoulder to avoid an earth shattering scream.

Steve collapsed on top of me and I didn't have the strength to move him. I needed a while to catch my breath. And in all that time, my golf ball hadn't moved an inch.

I was a mess. Pine needles and cum in my hair, pine needles stuck to my bum. Well, pine needles everywhere-and cum pretty much everywhere too. Dripping down my legs, dripping over my face. But Steve didn't seem to mind. I slipped my bra back on, pulled down my jumper; pulled my slacks back on (didn't bother with the thong) and slipped my golf shoes on to my feet. From a distance, I looked dressed-maybe even respectable. But up close, I was still a mess. Steve was in better shape. He just seemed able to brush himself off and he looked like he had just left the club house.

As I was trying to brush pine needles from my slacks I said, "So, Steve. You had no intention of teaching me about golf, did you? It was just a ruse, wasn't it?"

"Ah. I can see there are no flies on you, Nicki." He replied.

"No, just flippin' pine needles."

He chuckled and tried to help me wipe the pine needles off. He gave me a hankie and helped me with the cum in my hair too-well, it was his fault.

We picked up our clubs and the ball, and headed back out onto the fairway. We got in the cart and Steve headed up the fairway to collect his ball, then we headed back to the clubhouse. On the way, he was hailed by a group of four blokes at the fourth hole. 'Oh crap, I have to stop. Sorry Nicki. One of these boys is the chairman's son-can't ignore him."

All I could do was shrug. I really did look a mess, but we couldn't just drive past. He pulled up to these guys-they actually looked like sixth formers-eighteen or nineteen. "Hello Mr Webster," said the lad who had hailed us.

"Hello Simon," he replied, "How can I help."

"Just wanted to check we're still on for tomorrow's lesson?"

"Yes, no problem, Simon. See you at three."

All four of the lads were checking me out. They could tell I was looking pretty disheveled. One whispered to Simon and he clocked that there was something in my hair. Steve had started to pull away, when Simon called out, "Excuse me Miss."

Steve stopped, damn him.

"Yes?" I said.

"Are you all right?"

"I am fine thank you."

He smiled, "Do you work for the club, for my dad?"

I smiled, "Yes, I do."

"Then what are you doing out here?"

"Ah. Mr. Webster here was showing me the fundamentals."

"I bet he was."

"Of golf."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really."

"Come on Simon, I really need to get Nicki back to the clubhouse." Said Steve, sounding desperate.

"No," he replied, "Wait a minute." Simon turned back to me, "If he was teaching you golf fundamentals, why have you got spunk in your hair?"

How could I deny it? Everyone could see it; dabbing at it with Steve's hankie had just smeared it around really, not much more.

"If you're giving it out," Simon continued, "Then we get some."

"Now come on Simon..." Started Steve.

"Shut up! You've had yours, now we want ours. This little slut of yours can satisfy us, or I'll be going to my dad to tell him what he's paying you for."

Simon beckoned me out of the golf cart and he lead me to another clump of trees. His mates followed as did Steve. As we got under cover beneath the trees (and more bloody pine needles) Simon said, "On your knees, bitch."

I was exhausted and in a bit of a daze. It had already been a hell of a day, what with the colonel and the chairman and then the marathon session with Steve.

There was not much fight in me, so I got down on my knees. Simon unzipped himself and pulled his trousers down his thighs, then thrust his cock at me and said, "Go on, slut-suck on that." It was a nice looking young cock-smooth and slender. I took his balls in my hand and opened my mouth. God, he was eager-thrusting away like a porn star, with my head held in his hands. Meanwhile, his three mates were getting their own cocks out. One was playing with my tits, another trying to lift my jumper the third guiding my hand towards his semi-hard prick. It wasn't long before I felt the cold air on my breasts and a pair of hands groping at them. More hands pulling at my slacks to undo them. Jesus this lot were enthusiastic.

Then my slacks were at my knees and I felt a cock sliding down my arse crack, trying to find a way in. Soon I had one in my mouth another up my cunt and one in each hand too. Steve appeared really nervous and standing back-he couldn't keep from watching, but wanted to keep a lookout too.

Simon was fucking my mouth with a will, and one of the other lads was deep in my dripping wet cunt (talk about sloppy seconds) the other two getting the hand jobs seemed to be just waiting their turns. I don't think Simon was very experienced with anything but his own right hand, for all his bravado, as he came quite quickly and gave me a big mouthful of cum. A little leaked onto my lips but I managed to swallow most of it. "Yes, bitch." He whispered as I licked my lips.

Then one of the other two (a much thicker, but shorter cock) took Simon's place and started fucking my mouth. I raked my teeth along his shaft and pressed my tongue against the underside of his member; now that I had a hand free, I played with his balls too. Meanwhile, the lad fucking me from behind had pulled out and spunked all over my arse.

When the last of them took up position behind me, I had both hands free. I teased stubby's balls with one hand and reached between his legs with the other, a fingertip looking to find his (almost certainly virgin) arsehole. When my fingernail grazed his anus he jerked like he had had an electric shock, and his cock came out of my mouth. I licked along its length for a moment before it was my turn to be shocked-the boy behind me was trying to fuck my arse! O well... in for a penny, in for a pound.

I slipped my fingers into my pussy and then used the wetness to lubricate my arsehole, then tried to relax as best I could while I teased stubby's cock. When my finger next found his bum hole, I was wanking his cock furiously with just the head in my mouth and he exploded in me like he had never cum before. Gallons and gallons of the stuff in my mouth and dribbling over my chin while number four got into his stride fucking my arse. He leaned forward and grabbed my now tender tits. And for a teenager he had tremendous staying power. Everyone else was watching while he fucked me for the next ten minutes, finally thrusting balls deep in my arse and depositing a huge teenage load.

I fell forward onto the ground, half dressed and worse than disheveled now, I was exhausted. Utterly fucking knackered. I think I could hardly have moved another foot.

The lads went off to finish their game of golf, "Bye bye slut." Called Simon.

"See you soon."

Steve knelt down next to me, "Are you OK?"

"Half way between dead and fucking amazing." I said. "Take me home."

And he did. That day I didn't use the return half of my train ticket. Steve helped me back to the golf cart and then straight into his BMW. I dozed on the way back to Brighton, I was so tired. Steve helped me up to my flat. He made us both a cup of coffee.