Making Her First Time Memorable

This is fiction and all the characters are over 18. This is a longer story. If that frustrates you, skip ahead to the 2nd half...

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She started it innocently, a young woman waving at me with a smile as I drove by. I returned a courteous wave but I did not miss her kick-ass body. Firm round buns perfectly shaped in sheer spandex pants. Fully mature tits with a lot of cleavage showing in the sports bra over the low collar of a sleeveless tankini. I hadn't known she existed before that first wave, although I had seen the mom, a mousy little woman who kept herself thin and well-toned for an older lady.

One night that week I was working out in my sunroom. Took a water break and gazed down the hill, directly at the corner of their house through the line of trees. The two story frame and stucco homes at the base of the hill pre-dated these larger houses developed on the peak with our awesome view of the city. Their backyard was maxed out by a volleyball net, a soccer goal and a large net to catch golf balls.

In a second story window, a woman was leaning on the jamb, looking up in my direction. I couldn't tell if it was the girl or her mom. Her figure was silhouetted by deep pink light indirectly shining from a bedroom down the hallway behind her and I could only see the top half of her body. Maybe the woman in the window was looking up and dreaming of my view over the city. You can't underestimate the power of school girl fantasies for an older man who holds a little power and wealth.

Over the next few days I provoked the dreams of my mystery voyeur down the hill. I went shirtless for the next work-outs and after pumping up my chest and biceps through lots of push-ups and lat pulls then I'd take an extended water break by the window overlooking their house. The parade of standing by the window and striking a bodybuilder's pose to raise my water bottle for a swig was an odd pantomime but I was learning quickly.

I was parking my Maserati in the driveway a few days later and the girl came running by in light gym shorts. She stopped and did a funny stretch facing front with her legs spread wide and bending one knee to the side. This completely opened her crotch and flaunted the strong muscles underneath her thighs. Strong, fertile legs but thin enough she'd be easy to wrap up like a pretzel. A body begging to be fucked.

As I got out of my car, I guess she didn't see me because she turned her back to me, spread her feet and stretched down to touch her toes. Her hips flexed out as will occur for a grown woman, lifting that perfect ass and flashing me her pussy outlined in the taut lycra.

Then she ran two steps and instantly turned 180 facing me but repeated the stretch to the front, pushing her chest between her arms as if I couldn't already see down the deep split between her tits. Nature fills out a girl's body fully mature before her mind knows how to control it. As she came up for air I took the bold step to come over for a little howdee-do, although very restrained because I wanted to make sure she was legal.

"Hi, are you the soccer player and the golfer?" I asked.

"Yeah, I play a lot of sports," she said with a little jump to a standing position. Her elastic Covid mask was looped under her chin and she made no effort to raise it. She pulled the collar of her shirt up to teethe on it while draping her other arm across the front of her body, as if that was going to hide something. It was a nervous mannerism she fell into, like she hadn't imagined what to do if her flirtation would be successful.

"And which is your best?" I asked.

"That's hard to say. I've played a lot of soccer but it's very competitive and I've just taken up golf."

"That's too bad. It would be good to teach you some golf technique. I played on the college team. Do you ever play at the Rolling Barrens Club?"

"We can't afford the fees but they let our club team play one match. The course was kind of hard."

"If you play the course a couple of times then you learn the best lines for each hole. I could arrange for you to join one of my foursomes."

She didn't know what to say and danced nervously side to side.

"Hey, do you want a Gatorade or a water?"

"Sure, either one is great."

I went inside and fetched a couple of Gatorades for her and me. OK, I threw out a couple of feelers and she bought the bullshit so far. I never played on a golf team and I'm not a member of Rolling Barrens although I know a guy my age who is.

I came down the steps to hand her the Gatorade. As she stepped up to take the Gatorade, she stretched her foot from the rear up to the top step and bent that knee to lengthen the tendon of her leg planted closest to me. She opened her crotch before me and pushed her hips forward in the stretch. There was nothing innocent about it.

Her teeth were perfectly white and all neatly aligned. Piercing blue eyes like ice crystals reflecting a twilight sky. Even with her blonde hair pulled up in an elastic tie behind her head I could tell her hair was vibrant and would look full on her shoulders if she let it down. The next generation behind us has attained a purity in their features without scars or blemishes and their bodies and legs delicately shaped and toned. I celebrate her sexy curves, nurtured from great genetics on a robust diet and comprehensive healthcare, and guided by a modicum of discipline to deliver the sublime culmination of ten thousand years of evolution.

She turned her head toward the house to swig her Gatorade and let me see her face in profile. Another couple of hip pulses to stretch her leg at the same time. Then she gave me a big smile and curled her hair in one finger. I'm sure it's worked for her among the college boys, and they must buy her lunch or do her homework or fawn at her feet to give her the afternoon's amusement.

I asked, "How far do you run?"

"Today's route is seven miles."

"That's a good run. No wonder you're so fit. Did you think some more about that golf match?"

"Yeah, how would that work?"

"It might be easier if you bring one of your girlfriends and then I'll invite a guy so we have a foursome. They have certain days when they like the mixed groups to play. Are you eighteen?"

"Yes, I just turned eighteen in February."

"That was a big milestone. We could have played on your birthday and celebrated afterward. What's your name?"

"Julie."

"Julie is a nice name. I'm Dan. Why don't you find one of your classmates on the golf team, if she's over 18 like you, and I'll find out a few times along with my pal to see what we can arrange?"

She bit her lip like she was going to say no from force of habit but then she said, "OK."

"I'll have to come watch one of your soccer games, too. Is your team good this year?"

"I think we're pretty good. We reached the semi-finals last year and we're sure to at least reach the states and maybe finals this year."

"I like the confidence," I told her, stepping closer until we were almost dancing. "You exude a positive spirit and energy that is captivating. I hope you never lose that."

"Thanks, Dan," she said enthusiastically and a short giggle.

"My pleasure," I told her. "If you check back with me in a couple of days I may have some dates for our golf match."

"OK, great. Can I leave this with you?" She held up the nearly empty bottle of Gatorade with about one gulp of swill in the bottom. She held it by the cap between two fingertips, as if it were refuse now and she didn't want to dirty herself.

"Sure," I said, taking it. If she thought I was going to obsess on her swill she was very mistaken, but I grabbed the bottle and smiled without any acknowledgement for her jest.

Julie did a pirouette by swinging her leg off my stoop behind, turning her back to me and stretching her arms in the air. She locked her fingers and arched her back, which pushed her butt slightly toward my pelvis without touching. Then she continued the pivot to turn facing me but two steps away and let her hands drop to the sides.

"OK, see you soon, Dan," she announced, and resumed her run up the hill.

I watched for half a minute to admire that beautiful butt and slender legs and her frail arms pumping hard to propel herself.

Now the whole situation required a lot of contemplation on my part. Then next time I saw her running, we started to discuss some days and her progress in finding a friend to join. I asked her to bring her driver's license and a copy of her friend's, to prove they were over 18, blaming the club for its rules. She was able to prove that the next time I saw her.

Since she proved her age with a driver's license then it was all legal. Any adult would criticize me regardless but where do you draw the line? Are you supposed to wait until they're 21 or 25?"

It took considerable work to get my friend, Buddy, to arrange our foursome at the club. He thought the young women would only lead us to disaster. I mean, first of all it I didn't set a blind date and I never told him to make sexual advances. Also, his girl was over 18 and it was all legal. He had asked me exactly how long did I think he was going to invest his effort to wait for a child? I told him, yes, pretty accurate, but humor me and try this one outing and maybe it will pay off for you in three or four months.

The other piece that took forever to get straight with Buddy was how to keep his mouth shut about the membership. I told him I lied to the girl, a little white lie, that we were both members, so I could exaggerate a bit about how I was a big shot like him. Eventually the flattery won him over even though he knew I was shoveling shit his way. He liked it anyway.

When we finally arranged this and the big day came, the two girls met us over in the club parking lot. I was unloading my golf bag out of my Maserati and Buddy was locking up his Mercedes when the two girls pull up in their beat Mazda missing one hubcap. They made me laugh but it was kind of sexy to chase after the po' folk.

Julie wore short shorts, sparkling white and tight on her firm ass. At first I thought her friend had matching white shorts but when she turned I saw the front part was a skirt, so it was one of those complicated combinations. Both of them had light pastel shirts and short socks with the balls on back to keep them up. It all made them look like sisters or cheerleaders.

I suggested to Buddy that maybe we make our quick introductions and then he could settle at the starter's table while I help them with their bags and that way we could usher them right onto the course without a lot of interaction or exhibition around the club house, since he was worried about his image. Suddenly he was not so concerned about people's opinions, probably because Julie's friend was an absolute knock-out. Slightly taller than Julie, a big head of brunette hair and full, fertile curves.

"Hello, hello," I called to them as I walked over. "I'm Dan and this is Buddy."

"Hi Buddy, I'm Julie and this is my friend, Nancy."

Buddy gave Julie a little wave but extended a handshake to Nancy. That prompted me to take Julie's hand in mine and encourage them both good luck in our match.

"Are we supposed to wear masks on the course?" Nancy asked.

I told her, "Do whatever makes you comfortable. Since we all pass as friends, we're not required to wear masks amongst ourselves."

"And you didn't get your vaccine?" Julie chattered.

"No, we don't qualify yet," I laughed to her.

"Well aren't you the risk taker!"

"It's worth the risk, you're right, to see your smiling face all afternoon. Buddy's going to check us in at the starter's desk and I can help you with your bags if you need."

"We're strong enough to carry our own," Julie insisted, "but if you want to carry my books to school, for the fun of it, then I'll save all of my might for the match and I won't have any excuses."

Buddy went ahead of us and I played the pack horse carrying Julie's bag, Julie walking beside me and Nancy with her bag one step behind. As we passed the clubhouse I spied an older woman up on the concourse leaning against the railing, her subtle scowl falling the fifty yards down to us. It's always the older women who drive society's censure against young women. Don't listen to their fake exhortations of morality and protection and reparations. It's the jealousy eating away at their insides.

On the first tee Julie was practicing her swing without a ball by the men's marker, and over-doing the hips to flaunt her ass and she suddenly stops and says to Buddy, "Do we get a lot of Mulligans, so we can do it over and over until we get it right? We played before but you can treat us like it's the first time. Maybe you go and show us how to do it?"

Buddy stood there dumb-founded and I pushed up to break the silence. "If we let Buddy hit first he knows the best approach for each hole. Aim for his ball and you can't go wrong."

Julie laughed as if that was close to an innuendo. When Buddy stayed straight-faced then Nancy gave a faint smile. Nancy was kind of reacting to Buddy, who was much more quiet than usual. Nancy basically impressed me that she was already practicing the obedient wife in training.

Buddy asked if they had handicaps but we finally settled on giving them one stroke per hole, not as a bet, but as a kind of challenge to win a bonus. I suggested if they won we'd set up a special dinner and show as a late celebration of their 18th birthdays.

The first couple of holes had gone predictably enough. Buddy was playing on par, since he was the only real golfer among us, and myself three strokes back and one ahead of Nancy. I was talking to Buddy as he drove our cart behind theirs to the third tee and he says out of the blue, "You know they really are stupid. Brains like mush. I don't know why you're wasting your time hanging with children."

"Dude, you need to chill," I told him. "Granted, these 18 year old girls don't have self-control. Nature does it to them and then they procreate and after a thousand years their genes take over the population. Listen to their cues and revel with their inspiration. A beautiful woman rules the world."

Buddy didn't see it my way. Maybe it was his brain that was mush.

I ran up and joined Julie on the tee where she was practicing her swing again. I called up to her, "Julie, you're going to wear yourself out."

"Don't be silly. I'm trying to fix my swing."

I came up behind as she contorted her arms and torso without swinging as a misguided attempt to find the ideal position. Her arms were rigid and she had her shoulders pushed high trying to extend the club. I touched her forearm to encourage her to relax, and I said, "Don't over-think it. If you try to force it then you'll prevent your body from giving the natural swing of momentum."

Julie said, "I always do that. I forget to sit down where I can swing my hips to rotate my body." Then she dropped into a half-sitting position and pushed back right into my crotch. She wagged her butt back and forth across the top of my thighs, due to her height, but close enough to give me an instant hard-on.

Julie kept going, "Am I doing it right? What do you think?"

"You're a natural," I agreed. Although I didn't add any movement, I relished her body heat. "All you need is more practice, and not more advice. In a few years you are going to own the field."

Nancy stood nearby watching us with a slight grin and taking it all in.

That was probably the most flirtatious incident of the match although several times Julie ran up as I sat in the cart and put her hand on my shoulder, or she grabbed my elbow and pulled herself up an incline. She was a natural extrovert who liked to touch and interact with people and enjoyed learning about behavior and people's reactions.

By the end of the match, I had kept my score close enough to Julie's by over-shooting the chip shots and missing short putts. It wasn't easy, believe me, especially after she put a drive into the stream three times in a row instead of dropping. We only counted one extra stroke for her on that one. Because I kept it close to Julie, then her friend, Nancy, was actually beating me. Buddy just went his own way, well under us, although our bad play irritated him and he did not play his best game.

On the 18th I had to three-putt to let Julie beat me, a bit too obvious, and she finally said, "Really, Dan? You don't have to deliberately miss."

"Oh, I thought it was you who was missing on purpose, because you felt like a woman is supposed to let the man win. We live in a new age of equality and you're allowed to win now."

"That's still to be determined," Julie retorted.

"Any way, I think my stroke was straight enough but then as it approached the hole the ball veered over at you standing on the side. You're just a natural attractor, what can I say?"

"Ha ha."

"Hey Buddy, should we all grab a sandwich over at the Panera? That may be easier than navigating the whole club house routine."

"Actually, I have to meet some mates from my softball team, so I'm going to skedaddle. But I'll be sure to follow up and make it up to you, Nancy. It was a pleasure to meet both of you, Julie and Nancy."

OK, I thought that was the dumbest thing of the day from Buddy. If he actually scheduled time with his beer buds right after our match, then he's an idiot. Unable to steer through the social interactions. Well, who knows what minor religious conviction or childhood training or untold bias he suffers. It's little wonder some people stay single.

The ladies agreed to follow me over to a local sandwich spot, not a Panera but a mom and pop shop very popular in the neighborhood. It wasn't too crowded while it was still sunny, and we grabbed a table outside along the edge bordering the sidewalk.

We had ordered our sandwiches and just chatting away, watching the sun start to set, and Julie said, "Now, Dan, do you owe us both a dinner date since you lost?"

"That was ambiguous, wasn't it, whether our competition was by pairs or in toto. Buddy's such a good golfer, like a race horse that you can't hold back from running the fastest. He couldn't help himself."

The ladies were trying to decipher what I said and Julie reverted, "And then, you're going to make it up when you buy us both a dinner date?"

"I want the two of you to be happy. I think Buddy was intimidated because you're the most gorgeous woman he ever saw on a blind date. You'll appreciate what I'm telling you a few years from now. How about this? If Buddy doesn't reconnect with you, then we'll figure out how to create a special night for you, too?"

Julie smiled with her little pursed lips and she was clearly studying my face. She did not appreciate how her games present danger to a man. Nor to appreciate that at this stage I would not risk destroying our growing relationship to chase her friend.

But Julie said, "I'm glad you flattered her. After you and I dragged her into this, I want to make sure she's satisfied, too."

We all set to eating our sandwiches. After a few bites, Julie continued her line.

"How do you imagine my special day will go? Will you entice me with your fascinating descriptions of where you'll take me?"

She made me laugh. I held myself back. I told her, "Let's plan it out a bit. Should we choose a Friday? Do you have to tell your parents that you are sleeping over your friend's house?"

"I'm not obligated but yes, easy enough to say I'm heading into the city with friends for shopping, dinner and a show, and then a sleep-over, and then I won't be tied down eating macaroni and cheese with the p & m."

"That's good. If we meet up in the late afternoon, we'll hit the boutiques down on the Drive with their Italian designer clothing, where you can pick out a new skirt or dress or whatever suits your fancy. And new shoes or bling to accessorize. You don't need to overdo it. Something elegant yet casual, to fit in for this open air restaurant by the coast. It will have a much nicer sunset over the water than what we see here. I mean, the sky is turning some nice colors but just a slice that teases us to find another spot where we could really enjoy it."