Belle

"Nah, I just think he was saying thanks for the tickets."

She gave me a mock tut, tut sort of look before she purred, "Well, perhaps you could show me your house?"

It felt a bit weird opening the door and welcoming her into my drab little house. Compared to her folks' place, this was a shit box. To her credit, she never said anything other than, "Nice place."

I threw her onto the sofa and jumped on her. She giggled crazily as I wrestled with her trying to get a kiss. "What, don't I at least get a drink?"

"I brought you lunch." I laughed before crushing her lips in a kiss. Her arms and legs wrapped around me as the passion escalated. My erection was trapped by her grinding pussy. Things quickly escalated and her clothes went the same way as mine: into a big pile on the ground. Before things went too far, I dragged her up to the bedroom where the rest of the day vanished in a whirl of sexual energy. Belle was a sexual dynamo, and enjoyed all aspects of lovemaking. She encouraged and directed, egging me to go further than I ever had.

With the afternoon gone, she dragged me into the shower. "C'mon, I need food."

We showered together and headed out for dinner. As we were finishing up and the waiter brought the check to the table, I was about to hand over my credit card when Belle grabbed my hand. "My shout."

Seeing my sour confused expression, she smiled. "C'mon, Hon, I make a whole lot more than you."

It was a slap in the face and a little demoralising. She chuckled as the waiter walked away with her card. "Don't be one of those macho pricks, Carl. I can afford it, plus you brought lunch."

"Belle, growing up my father instilled in me that there are expectations for men. Opening doors, paying. These are things that men do. If my father saw me letting you pay, he would roll over in his grave."

"Oh phooey, those are old sentiments. Things are different today. Men don't have to work, to be the bread winner. If a woman is talented enough to make more money, then that is a good thing, not a bad one."

"Belle, those attributes have been instilled in me my whole life. I can't just change overnight."

She shook her head disbelievingly. "That doesn't wash with me. We can share costs, go Dutch."

It left a bit of a bitter taste in my mouth, but with her giving me a sweet kiss and her hand stroking my growing erection inside my pants, that soon vanished. We went back to my place and we spent the night making love. When I said she was a dynamo, I wasn't fooling. She certainly loved sex.

We spent the next couple of days together, although we did have to go to her parents' place for dinner. She had obligations: she didn't see them that often, so it was expected.

She told me later that while she tried to establish her career as a pro golfer, they supported her financially. The least she could do was spend as much time as possible with them. It felt weird that they were so open about things, her mum encouraging me to stay the night rather than drive home after her dad made me taste all his favourite whiskeys. No, not to sleep in a spare room, they were happy for me to share Belle's room, and her mum gave me a telling off. "No running off early in the morning either, young man."

Wow, I'm sure they must have seen my blushing cheeks. All this was a lot for me to take in. I was just a country boy at heart, with old world principles. No way would my parents have let me bring a bird home. Even now if they were still alive the answer would be no

Two days later, she was gone to play a tournament in Melbourne. I drove her to the airport, it was a bit sad. In just a few short days she had found a way into my heart. I really liked her. We kissed long and hard before she left, both making promises to stay in touch.

At first, we did talk a lot on the phone. When I say talked, I should really have said had phone sex. By the fourth day, my dick ached I had beaten of that often. She had been planning to come back, but received an invitation to a tournament in Brisbane, where she had another top ten finish. That led to another in Hong Kong.

We continued to sext and talk regularly. With her success she was quickly turning into a bit of a celebrity, and it was unnerving when I saw her on TV being escorted to a dinner by a handsome young bloke. There was no phone call that night.

When we talked the next night, she was like nothing happened. She talked about the game and how she was playing. I listened, biting my tongue, but listening to her rabbit on annoyed me. I didn't want to but I snapped, "Have a good date last night, did you?"

The phone went a little quiet before she replied, "Yes I did actually. Daniel was very nice."

"Get a good night kiss, did he?" I snapped churlishly.

Obviously annoyed her response was curt. "No, he didn't, but I did give him a nice blowjob when he left this morning."

Jesus Christ, she was so open about it. I couldn't speak. She scoffed, "I hope you aren't going to be one of those jealous possessive insecure guys. We are friends, Carl, but we made no promises, did we?"

"No, we didn't, but..."

She interrupted me before I could finish, "Carl, I like you and I want to see you again, but we both have lives to lead. I'm sure you're seeing other girls as well."

I wasn't actually, but that was the last thing I was going to tell her. After that, our phone calls dropped off and when we did talk, it was more about how her game was going and where she was off to next. The sexual side of our relationship seemed to have died.

I followed her career as she climbed the ladder. She had qualified for the LPGA circuit and was flying to America to compete. When we spoke, she was elated and jabbering on like a school kid. We ended with me wishing her well. Throughout the whole conversation we never once talked about my job, projects, what I was doing, nothing; it was all about her.

I guess I am one of those insecure jealous guys, because watching her career it was obvious she had a myriad of guys chasing after her. I followed her Instagram page, her Facebook page and highlighted all over were posts about dates she was going on. The calls evaporated and I consigned her to my memory, a very fond memory, which fuelled many lonely evening wanks. I figured she would be a story I could relate to my Grand kids. "I used to date her, you know?"

It was nearly three months later when she burst into my office looking radiant. "Hey, stranger!" she trilled as I stood to greet her, and she pushed her way into my arms, "Just wondered if you were free for a round this afternoon?"

My boss who must have seen her walk in interrupted, "Take the afternoon if you want, Carl. You've done your share lately." I was going to say no, but his untimely interruption pushed me into a corner. "Yeah, I would love to."

As we played, we walked and talked. She apologised for being lax and not calling. I said, "No problem, you must be busy." It was all very polite and warm but there was no intimacy. She noticed, as well. "Okay, Carl, what gives? Why the cold shoulder treatment? I know I have been a bit distracted, but you have to cut me some slack here. The circuit is tough, and I had to put in a big effort."

"I don't care about the missed calls or the fact you're busy. That bit I understand... what I don't understand is all the guys you've been dating. Why come back to me; you've obviously got a guy in every port. Who am I? Just the local hick who entertains you when you come home to visit your parents?"

She nodded as if contemplating an answer. "So, you are one of those pathetic possessive insecure arseholes. I should have guessed. It's a shame, because I really liked you, I thought we had something."

Disconcerted by her indifferent, casual attitude, I snapped viciously. "Oh bullshit... how could we have something when you're banging guys all over the god damned planet? Jesus, I hoped we had something, too, because believe it or not, I like you."

Her frown turned upside down and a cheeky grin crossed her face and she smiled. "What say we approach this differently? If you weren't stalking me on Facebook and Instagram, and you didn't know that I dated a few guys and I turned up to see you again, just like today, where would we be now?"

"In bed, making love." I stated loudly.

"So why aren't we doing that right now, because it's what I damned well want."

"Because I know... it's different, I know. How can we have something if you're banging all those guys?"

Her frown returned with a vengeance, "Look, dipshit, I didn't ask you how many girls you banged while I was away. We aren't married; we're just friends. You had sex, I had sex, why does that have to interfere with us... I like you and I liked the idea we would already be in bed because it's all I have been thinking about since coming home. It's part of the reason I came home."

She stood up and reached for my hand. "Come on, Carl, I'm not home for long, let's not spoil it by fighting."

Damn it, I wanted to be angry, I wanted to say fuck off. No, my heart was pounding, my palms clammy and looking into her eyes any possible argument I could throw up melted. Damn it, she had me.

We didn't come out of my place for two days, we made love, we fucked, we laughed, she told me stories about all the top female golfers, a few secrets she probably shouldn't have, but it was funny, warm, and intimate. We cuddled, we snuggled and when we eventually came out, we headed straight to the golf course where she schooled me, she beat me and she gave me pointers. She showed me how to get backspin on my chip shots, how to get rid of my slice. We ate out and we walked on the beach. It was an amazing few days, but unfortunately it had to end. She had a tournament coming up in Tokyo, and she was leaving the following day. She had to go to her folks' place for at least one night and I couldn't face that. We met for lunch just before her flight. "So can I call you still?" she asked.

"Yeah, of course, I want to hear from you every day."

That's what happened. Like last time, she called every day, we had phone sex, she sent me some nude snaps and I replied in kind. me a little video.

We talked about it and I think she sent the photos and video just to prove that she trusted me, because, with them in my possession. I could ruin her career. It was her way of saying, "I trust you."

Her career was blossoming and her winnings were going up. In NZ she was a celebrity, and of course, every women's magazine had a story about her. Her newest lover, who she was dating, all the usual shit, and of course, I followed her social media stuff as well as all the other stuff, and yeah, it hurt seeing her dating other guys. I wondered every time I saw her on some bozos' arm whether they were doing it. It burned me up.

I tried to put it to the back of my head. I decided that moping around the house and stalking her on social media wasn't helping.

Before Belle, I had a couple of girls that I dated occasionally, it wasn't serious, and I had stopped seeing them while I was with Belle.

I decided, to hell with Belle. I wasn't waiting around for her. I went back to dating. The girls were fun but I realised that Belle had left an imprint, she was more than a bit special. Even with the distraction of dating other girls I still couldn't get rid of her image.

Still, at least by dating it made it easier. I had distractions. I also enjoyed when she called me one evening. I took great delight in saying, "Sorry I can't talk now I'm on a date." I finally got to inflict some hurt on her.

What spoiled it was when she replied chirpily. "Oh, sorry babe. I didn't mean to interrupt. Have fun." After she hung up, I was blown away by her blasé attitude. Totally took the wind out of my sails.

She flipped my world on its head, when she rocked up unexpectedly as a surprise. She had a month between commitments and came to stay. I managed to get some time off work and we went off on a golfing holiday around the South Island. As always, we fought, from the very first day. It started when we wandered up to the hotel front desk to book in. We organised a room and I filled in the paperwork, and I handed over my credit card. Just as the assistant was about to swipe it Belle piped in. "Hang on, use mine."

She pulled hers out and went to hand it over. I grabbed her hand quickly. "No, I have this."

She gave me a very angry stare. "Carl, I'm paying. I make a lot more than you. Let's not argue."

I felt completely embarrassed as the guy behind the counter stared at us. I said, "I have this," and pushed her hand away.

That was an argument we had over and over on our otherwise happy little jaunt.

The golf was fun, but it was the night time when the fun really began. By the end of the month, I was hooked. I couldn't hold back any longer, "Belle, I'm falling in love with you."

She hugged me. "Yeah, I feel it as well... you are special, Carl. I have never felt this way about anybody before."

Holding on like grim death, I asked, "So what happens now?"

She grimaced. "I don't know, I have a tournament in Perth in a couple of days, I have to fly out tomorrow."

"When will you be back?"

"Two weeks at the earliest, After Perth I'm flying to Manilla, then back to the States. It could be a month."

"I will wait for you."

"Why don't you come with me?"

"Shit, I can't afford that. I just used all my annual leave."

She laughed. "Fuck it, resign. I make enough money, just come with me, to hell with your job. Tell them to suck it."

Shocked I sighed, "I can't do that, Belle, I love my job, I can't follow you around unable to pay my way. I can't be reliant on you, like some loser, with my hand out every time I want to buy something.."

"Bullshit, if you meet a girl and get married and she doesn't have a job, you would support her, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, but that's different, I'm a man, I don't expect or want to be relying on you, or anyone for that matter. Christ, we have talked about this. I need to feel in control of my own destiny. Not dependant on somebody else."

Snorting, she laughed derisively. "Jesus Carl, what does it matter who pays? We would be like a couple, the only difference would be it would be me paying rather than you."

That made me think, the determined look on her face, made me shudder. She replied. "Relax, I can afford to pay for it. Tell you what, you can be my caddie."

I laughed. "You've got Billy Jenkins. He's about as good as they get. No, I'm not jeopardising your career and you should be ashamed for even suggesting it."

"Stop being a fool; I want you to come, take a sabbatical from work. I can pay your mortgage so you can keep your place. Come on, imagine it, us together, travelling the world. It would just be an incredible adventure, the two of us against the world. I can't explain what I am about to say. I feel better with you by my side. just knowing you are there, makes me feel stronger."

With the jubilation beaming on her face and the excitement in her voice, It all sounded great. I had never even been out of the country, but the more I thought about it, I realised how unrealistic it was. I would have to sell my house, all my furniture, even my car. So I could at least have money, try to pay my way. Plus, it would mean coming home to nothing, nowhere to stay, no job. But god, it did sound incredible, the two of us together. Especially if it didn't work out. What then? Would I have to beg her for money so I could leave?

She stared at me with her big gooey eyes. "Well?"

I hissed in mock anger. "Shut up, I'm thinking, Christ this is a big step. I would have to sell everything I own just to go with you. If it didn't work out I would have to come home and start from nothing again. I mean we haven't even discussed our relationship."

As she stared at me expectantly, I realised it wasn't that simple, the house would take months to sell. My furniture and belongings even longer. I had just blown my credit card to pieces. The more I thought, the harder it became. I realised I couldn't do it. As I said earlier, apart from the money, I'm an old-fashioned guy. I have principles. I couldn't live with myself sponging off somebody else.

"No sorry, Belle, but I can't do it."

"Why? Why not. Please Carl, don't just say no because of the money. I have plenty for both of us and we could make it work."

"No, I would love to but I can't be sponging off you, or anybody else for that matter. I like paying my own way. I have my pride."

She stood up angrily, pushing her chair back noisily, "Pride, stupid male fucking pride. You're going to let your ego get in the way. Well fuck you then... I love you, what does it matter who pays?"

"It matters to me. I have to be able to hold my head up. I can't go through life begging for pocket money."

Frustration, and irritation dripped from her hissing retort. "Shit, forget about the money. I'll give you money. I don't care about the money."

"Yeah, and what would your dad say? How could I look him in the eye knowing I live off you?"

She leaned across the table, her anger unmistakable, and snapped, "Fuck you."

That was the last thing she said before she stormed out, leaving me sitting staring at her curvy arse as she pushed open the exit doors and stormed out of my life.

I tried to forget all about her, but somehow it was impossible. Not a moment of the day drifted by when I didn't think about her, see her in my mind. I still stalked her on social media, still followed her career, although lately she had fallen off the pace. She still finished in the top 20 or so, but she seemed to have lost her edge. I read somewhere there is a fine line between winning and losing, and only real champions can maintain the clarity of mind to win continuously.

One Sunday morning, after a couple of months, of just hanging around brooding. I made a decision to get out of the house and stop moping. I went down to the golf course for a hit. As I was picking up my card from the office, I heard a voice behind me. "Hello, Carl, long time no see."

When I turned around there was Belle's dad, Thomas. I reached out to shake his hand. "Good morning, sir."

Frowning unhappily he responded with a thoughtful sigh. "My name is Thomas, I think we are past the sir thing, aren't we?"

He glanced hopefully at me, and added, "I'm about to tee off, could we play together?"

I nodded. "Yeah, sure, it would be nice to have some company, although I'm not that good."

He laughed. "Well, that's not what Belle said; she told me if you listened to advice, you could be very good."

"Na, I'm just a hack really. I enjoy playing, but that's about it. Plus, it's not much fun taking advice from your girlfriend."

He chuckled in a friendly fatherly way. "Carl, I understand that, how do you think I feel getting my butt kicked by my daughter? She isn't averse to giving me advice either. I never take it until after she is gone, then I have a rethink. She's always bloody right you know."

That made me laugh, and we teed off. He nailed his first tee shot straight down the middle. My shot wasn't quite so good, but I hadn't played for a while. We walked off together, he asked about work and he seemed genuinely interested. By the fourth hole my swing returned, and I was hitting a decent ball.

As we walked, he asked, "So what happened between you and Belle? I don't know what happened, but she came home bawling her eyes out. I have never seen her like that; she is normally so in control."

Uncomfortable, I stumbled to get the word out. "Sir, Belle and I... well to be honest. I guess we wanted different things."

He frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"

'She wanted me to give up my job and go on tour with her."

He nodded. Contemplating my words. "Yes, she told us. Carl, let me say that I admire your ambition, but I have to say I think you're a fool. I know my daughter and she has been out with plenty of men and women, but you affected her, you got to her. When she told us that she was in love, I was totally stunned. I have never heard her utter those words before."