Cat Got Your Tongue?

This is a longer than normal story for me. Purely a work of fiction and my imagination. No guys with 10" cocks or women with 40DDD tits. No anal or incest, just romance with a good deal of sex mixed in. All people are over the age of 18. All sex is consensual. I hated English in high school so please forgive any grammatical errors or typos. I have re-read the story a dozen times, trying to catch mistakes, before submitting it for publication. Maybe I should have re-read it a few more times. So be it. Here it is. Your understanding is appreciated. Any comments and your vote are always welcome. Just enjoy. Thanks. NYBoss

PROLOGUE:

"Right there, oh God, right there," she urged him on as his tongue danced on her clitoris. He knew what she liked and was happy he was able to make her feel so good. He loved the way her full, trimmed black bush framed her open lips, showing her sex in all its glory.

"Yes.....," she screamed as he pushed one, then two fingers into her wet pussy. He knew it was only a matter of time until his face would be full of her cream. "Please don't stop, don't stop" she wailed as her orgasm seemed to travel from her taut nipples down to her very core of pleasure. Her partner locked his lips around her engorged clitoris, and when he combined his circling of the sensitive bud with his fingers now playing havoc with her g-spot, she cried out, loud enough to wake the dead.

"Aaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, oh.....,, oh God....." she sang as she bounced her body off the bed, restricted only by her partners embrace of her waist. Her orgasm lasted for a good thirty seconds, but it took minutes for her to calm down. She moved slowly toward her partner, kissing him on his lips, tasting herself and then cuddled with her back pressing against his chest.

She wanted more, but was exhausted from the gymnastics that delivered her an orgasm that rocked her core. They rested as their breakfast was delivered from Door Dash. They were famished and feasted on bagels, fruit, pastries and coffee.

Ninety minutes after they finished eating, both were ready for round two. She knelt between her partners groin and brought his cock to a strong erection. Massaging his balls, she took his cock into her mouth. She pleasured him for a few minutes before he said, "If you continue to do this, I'm not going to be able to fuck you, and that's what I want to do."

She stopped and moved onto her knees toward the front of the bed. Grabbing a pillow to lean on, she offered her pussy doggy-style. Her partner moved behind her, and easily slid his cock into her pussy. Before he started to fuck her she moved her head onto the pillow. At that angle she felt his balls bounce against her ass. He wasn't going to go slow as he wanted to make her cry out again.

"Again, you're going to make me cum again. Ah fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Your pussy is so tight; this feels so good. I'm not going to last."

"I'm almost there. Wait for me, wait for me. Oh, God.....Oh God.....I'm cumming....." with her voice trailing off, "'I'm cumming."

"Me too, me too." Then he unloaded one, two, three spurts of his cream into his partners pussy."

He fell on top of her back, then rolled away from her, his cock leaving her pussy. She moved toward him so they were now face to face on the bed, with their heads resting on the pillows.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you," he said.

CHAPTER 1 -- THE GOLF OUTING

"Mr. Starr," said Tom Hunt, the starter at the Wykagyl Country Club, "your original playing partners, Mr. Wilson and friends had backed out. They had to fly to Colorado for an emergency business meeting."

Ron Starr was the CEO of a very successful twenty-billion-dollar company that provided high tech computer software mostly to the military, but also to some very big private equity companies. He had built up the business from scratch and was preparing to turn the running of the business to his 25-year-old son, Paul, who was in his fourth year of a six-year combined bachelor-MBA program at Columbia. His college was delayed by his four-year stint in the Marines. Paul was working part-time sitting next to his dad so he could learn the business. When he finished his schooling, he would be prepared to run the business, allowing his dad more time for even more golf and, hopefully, other pleasures.

Ron's 22-year-old daughter, Lisa will become the CFO once she finishes her MBA. Ron is and will continue to be, the CEO, but now enjoyed more golf, but less vacationing. His wife of twenty-eight years passed away five years ago. They had enjoyed golfing and seeing the world together. But that stopped when she got sick. He was now 50 years old.

He was golfing at a charity event in toney Westchester County, New York. Dinner along with a silent auction to follow. This was a high-end event costing each entrant $25,000 to golf and for dinner where his kids would join him. His kids coming would cost him another $2,000. He didn't mind at all.

Ron turned to Tom and said, "Is there anyone you can pair me with? Even if we have to go off as a two-some."

"At the last minute, there was a person who was registered by Mr. Wilson. A Sam Fields. He has a ten handicap, the same as yours, so you should have a good match." The golf was to be a match play format. Unusual for a charity event, but the coordinators of the event thought it would be interesting if they tried something different. The winner of each match would get a $10,000 gift card from one of the high-end stores known to all participants. Thirty-six high end stores throughout Westchester County and New York City, two per each foursome, were in on the event. If Ron won his match, he would donate the gift card back to the charity.

Yes, the charity. This year, the charity was close to his heart. Glioblastoma was the cause of his wife's death. The funds were going to the Glioblastoma Foundation.

"Tom," Ron said, "not a problem. I'm heading up for lunch. Please have my clubs on the range in about an hour. I guess I'll meet Sam whenever."

Ron entered the room where the buffet lunch was taking place. Immediately he was greeted by friends as well as people he did business with. He sat down and three business acquaintances joined him. After the usual banter they asked who he was paired with. "Someone by the name of Sam Fields. He was a last-minute entry and is someone I've never met."

After a few more minutes of chatting and finishing his lunch he excused himself so he could loosen up on the range. He walked to the range and began his normal routine. After hitting balls for about twenty minutes, he went to the putting green where a good majority of the golfers were practicing. He saw more women practicing than in previous years and was glad that they were able to participate. It meant that they were successful enough to afford the high entry fee. He finished his practice and still had some time before the match started. The golfers would get together by their carts near the first hole where the starter would go over the rules and then the golfers would be led out to the respective holes where they were starting. Ron and Sam would start on hole #5.

Ron walked away from the putting green only to be stopped by other friends. After about twenty minutes he headed back to his cart. He found her standing next to the cart, the cart holding his bag and a second bag. As he approached the woman, she turned and faced him. She was very pretty, her face unlined with light facial makeup and beautiful lips painted with a rose color lipstick.

"Excuse me, Miss.....,"

"Samantha Fields. Most call me Sam."

"Samantha," Ron started to say.

"Sam."

"Okay, Sam. I guess we are playing together?"

In front of Sam, Ron Starr stood 6'1" 185 lbs. with black hair hidden by his golf cap. He was suntanned and while he did not have a six-pack, he did not have a belly overhanging his belt. He was wearing black golf shorts and a white golf shirt. He had on a pair of Berluti Swing Nylon Golf Shoes. His black cap had the logo of the Bethpage Black course. In fact, Sam thought, he was a handsome man, in pretty good shape physically.

"It appears that way. Why are you looking at me that way?"

"It's an unusual golf outfit given the fact that you are wearing heavy long pants and a sweater top and it's eighty-five degrees outside. You'll never make it past nine holes. Plus, are you playing to a 10 handicap?" He smiled at her. She smiled back.

"Let me explain." Sam said. "My boss, Don Wilson of Wilson Electronics, got called away and had to travel to Colorado. Two other employees who were to play with him also had to travel, so they asked me to fill in. I am Mr. Wilson's Administrative Assistant. I played in high school, but I've been otherwise occupied so playing golf on a regular basis has not been a priority. Neither is my having the appropriate golf clothes." She twirled around giving him a view of the outfit she wore.

"The handicap was from my high school days. I'm nowhere near that as I've played only two rounds in the past six years. And when I did play, private clubs, like this one, were not part of my budget. Since they had already matched the players based on their handicap, I was stuck playing with a ten and stuck playing against you," Sam said smiling at Ron. He smiled back and laughed.

"Come with me," Ron said. Ron led her to the pro shop.

"Good afternoon, Joyce," Ron said to the Manager of the shop.

"Hey, Ron, how are you? Glad you could make it this year."

"Doing well. I need a favor. My friend Sam will die if she plays in these clothes. Please take care of her."

"No problem."

"Yes, problem," Sam said.

"What's the problem? I'm looking out for your health. I don't want to be responsible if you faint on me after playing six holes," Ron said as he couldn't maintain a straight face.

"I, I can't pay you back," tears welling in her eyes.

"I didn't ask you to. Just get ready so we can start on time. Plus, with you dressed for summer there will be no excuse when I beat you. I'll meet you at the cart."

Sam just smiled, wiped away a tear, and mouthed silently the words, "thank you."

"You must have made a good impression on Ron. How long have you guys been going out?" Joyce asked.

"I just met him thirty minutes ago. I'm playing with him."

"He's a very nice man. He's had a tough time with his wife passing away five years ago from cancer. I saw him smile when he was walking with you. I haven't seen him smile in a long time."

It took only twenty minutes for Joyce to take care of Sam.

Joyce walked Sam back to the cart. When Ron saw her he couldn't say anything. He just stared.

"Cat got your tongue?" Sam asked as she pirouetted so he could see the entire outfit.

Sam had traded her long pants for a blue golf skirt and her sweater for a white Ralph Lauren golf shirt. She had a new pair of white Foot Joy golf shoes and ankle socks. Ron now saw all of her. She had a medium size bust and long legs on about a 5''8" frame. Her wavy black hair was placed into a ponytail tucked inside the country club's white cap.

"Wow!" Ron said. Sam was beaming.

He turned to Joyce and Sam and said, "Thank you. Make sure she pays you for the socks. That wasn't part of the deal." Ron was smiling. So was Sam.

"The socks are on me," Joyce replies with a laugh. "You guys have some fun."

"Thanks Joyce," Ron said. Sam nodded toward Joyce.

CHAPTER 2 -- THE MATCH

They were given their instructions and followed other carts to their starting tee. "So how many strokes are you giving me, Sam?"

"How many do you need?"

There are a few times in ones' lifetime where sparks fly at an initial meeting between a man and a woman. Ron had not allowed himself to think in terms of those feelings ever since his wife died. Perhaps it was time for him to change. Perhaps it was this woman who had him thinking that way. Sam felt the same way.

"Let's just play and have some fun." At the turn, which was after they played their fifth hole, there was a backup, so they stepped out of the cart and grabbed a few bottles of water. For the past hour or so, they had a great time playing together. It was obvious that Sam was rusty, but Ron saw that the skill was there. With some lessons she would be able to become a very good player, again. Sam became very quiet.

"What's the matter?," Ron asked her.

"Joyce told me about your wife. I'm so very sorry." Changing the subject, Sam asked about his kids and before they played their next hole, she had known all about him and his family.

"You seem to know all about me, tell me about you?"

"My life has been nothing like yours. Got pregnant in my senior year of high school. A mistake by both of us. He thought it was such a mistake he left and joined the Marines the day we graduated. He said goodbye as if he had no plans on returning. He went to Iraq, got home and I never heard from him again. Tracked him down. He was married and living in some podunk town in Texas. I said, 'fuck it.' I had to raise my daughter Sophie by myself."

She continued, "My parents helped out, then they passed away so I was left taking care of an eight-year old by myself. She is now a senior in high school, getting ready to graduate next month. Third in her class. Got into three Ivy League colleges. I'm waiting to hear if the financial package comes through otherwise she will start at a community college. Actually, you will meet her if you stay for dinner, as Mr. Wilson said I could bring her."

"You must be a terrific mom!"

Tearing up, Sam just nodded.

The banter between the two over the course of the next few hours was a mixture of good-natured trash talking, complimenting each other when one hit a good shot and much laughing. Both Sam and Ron could not remember when they had so much fun. Whether Ron was 'tanking shots" to guarantee that Sam would have a chance to win the gift card, it probably was part of his thinking. "She needs the card much more than I do," he thought.

They were even coming down to their last hole. They both placed their tee shots onto the green on the par3-155 yard hole. In fact, Sam was four feet away and Ron fifteen feet.

"You better take the tape measure to see how far from the hole you came. This is the 'closest to the pin hole,'" Ron said.

Sam did that, noting a distance of four-feet, the best by any golfer. There would be a prize for the closest to the pin, but what it was, was unknown. She now had to concentrate on making the putt, thinking that Ron could make his and that if they were tied after this hole, they would have a one hole playoff.

Ron looked over his putt, had it lined up and from fifteen feet away, just missed it to the right, lipping the right side of the cup. A small smile, unseen by Sam, creased his face. If she made her putt, she would win the match and the gift card. It was something she could surely use. Steady as a rock, she stepped over the ball and with little hesitation, drilled the ball into the center of the cup. Except for raising both hands in the air, she held her emotions to herself as she went to congratulate Ron on the match and more important, on the great time she had.

Ron was first to say, "Congratulations. You played very well for someone who had been off the course for as long as you've been." He held out his hand waiting for Sam to shake it.

Sam, closed in on Ron and gave him a hug a small peck on his cheek. She did not shake his hand. "Thank you. I had a wonderful time with you. In fact, the four hours with you have been the best time I've had in quite a while." She was blushing. She was wondering how she could do this again.

"I feel the same way." Changing the subject, he asked, "Let me know if you want a few lessons. I know of a great pro at the club where I belong."

"I'll think about it," wondering how she would pay for the lessons.

"I'll see you at the banquet. I look forward to meeting your daughter. Just leave the clubs here. They will clean them and bring them around to the bag drop. I take it that you left your stuff in the locker room?"

"Yes, they took care of me when I arrived." What Sam didn't say was that after Joyce had seen what she had brought to wear for the banquet, Joyce helped her pick out a stunning cocktail dress and sandals from the small boutique next to the pro shop. Something that would be more appropriate for the occasion. "I'll catch up with you in about an hour."

"Sounds good." Ron could not wait.

CHAPTER 3 -- THE BANQUET

Ron had chosen a blue blazer, white button-down shirt, khaki pants and custom-made tan loafers, sans socks to wear at the banquet. He showered, dressed and walked to the banquet hall. He found his son and daughter waiting for him. He hugged and kissed his daughter first and did the same with his son. Paul was dressed like his dad. He was 6'2" with black hair and was a solid 195 lbs. He maintained his Marine weight by working out three times a week. Lisa was a stunning red head with a slim figure and an impressive bust. She turned heads when she entered a room. Both had relationships that ended a few months ago. It was nothing special.

"How was your game today? I heard you played against some guy by the name of Sam Fields. How did you do?" Paul asked.

"I played well, but lost the match on the last hole. I had a great time, though. Let's find our table then we can mingle."

They found their table, marked by place cards. Lisa noticed that the two other spots were going to be taken by Sam and Sophie Fields. When asked if he knew who they were, Ron just shrugged his shoulders and said, "My playing partner." They moved their separate ways, mingling with current business partners and hopefully, future partners.

People took notice when Sam and her daughter walked through the doorway. Sophie was a younger version of her mom, down to her black hair and cool green eyes. She, too was 5'8" tall. You would have thought they were sisters. By the time they reached the table where Ron, and his kids were standing, Sam felt bold enough to greet him with a kiss on the cheek and with the words, "Cat got your tongue?"

She was stunning in the black cocktail dress with minimal amount of make-up. When it appeared as though he regained his composure, Sam said, "Ron, I'd like you to meet my daughter Sophie. Sophie, Mr. Ron Starr." Sophie looked glum, but still shook Ron's hand. As she pointed to, what she knew were his kids, Sam said, "And these must be your kids."

"Lisa, Paul, this was my competition today, Sam Fields."

"Sam Fields is not a guy," Paul said.

"I think not," Sam said with a smile.

Everyone had smiles with the exception of Sophie who looked as though she had been crying. In fact, it was about 20 minutes ago when her boyfriend broke up with her, some two weeks before her senior prom.

They found their seats and Ron had strategically placed himself next to Sam on one side and her daughter on the other. Paul sat next to Sophie with Lisa filling out the table next to Sam and her brother. The conversations went smoothly, with Ron, his family and Sam laughing almost after every story. Sophie was not laughing.

Sophie remained quiet for the first part of the sit-down dinner. Finally, Ron asked her, "What's going on, Sophie? It looks as though you are not enjoying yourself." Sophie had barely touched her appetizer.

"I really don't want to talk about it," she responded.

"If you talk about it, maybe we can help," Paul chipped in.

"How are you going to help with my boyfriend dumping me two weeks before my prom? What's worse, he dumped me for the 'cum slut' of the class."

Ron nearly spit up his drink. Paul and Lisa suppressed a laugh. Her mom, who already knew the story, was quiet.

Sophie was no dummy. Third in her class, she was accepted into Columbia, Harvard and Brown. She wanted a future as a cardiac surgeon, but right now the only thing on her mind was the fact that she was not going go to the prom.