Teeing Off with Ava

In those grueling years leading up to sweet retirement, you hear the same thing over and over again. "Move to Florida", they say. "You'll love the weather, the beach, the golf!" Well, I certainly couldn't argue with the latter when my wife and I both finally retired from our respective careers. The one thing I'd be itching to do in my newfound free time was lots and lots of golf. Florida is home to more than 1,200 courses, more than any other state. It sounded like paradise to this old man.

Not to my surprise, it didn't take much to get my wife on board with this move. There was plenty of shopping throughout the state, including the city of Vero Beach. We quickly fell in love with the idea of retiring there and made all the necessary arrangements. By the start of the year, we had our bags packed and were off on our new adventure away from the cold, miserable Midwestern winter and settled into the bright rays of the Sunshine State.

Everything was absolutely wonderful...for about a month or so. Even paradise had its issues as my wife and I settled into an increasingly dull routine. She would spend much of her time with her new socialite friends, hit the shopping malls and travel with them across the east coast of Florida. I myself had dusted off my clubs and hit the nearest courses and soon found a go-to club near South Beach. The course was a thing of immense beauty: simple yet deceptively difficult at times, lush greenway for miles.

As I became more frequent at the clubhouse for the rounds or a few drinks with new friends, the owners Cathy and Ike also came to know me as a companion. They noticed I was starting to grow weary of the "same old, same old" and offered me a caddy and guide job with the course. Immediately, I accepted the job and for several months I lived a happy, working lifestyle again. The amount of people I came to know personally was staggering, yet I had a spring in my step again.

That all changed one fateful day in early July.

Sweltering heat reared its ugly mug in Vero Beach that afternoon. The ocean breeze was surprisingly weak and the clouds were few, only adding to the misery. I reluctantly exited my air-conditioned sedan and made the short, scorching walk up to the clubhouse. Not to my shock, there were few people around to greet. Those present were mostly gulping down a refreshing water or a cool cocktail at the bar, but instead I made my way to the office to see what I'd be doing on this miserably hot day. My hope was not another large group like last week, roasting me under the unforgiving hot sun for hours on end.

Cathy was the only one around as I walked inside the spacious room, her head perking up from her desk and a thankful smile crossed her aging face. Ike and Cathy were "retired owners" but maintained a constant presence at the course. They weren't young in years, but rather in spirit.

"Oh Bob, I'm so glad you're here today!" Cathy stood up from her desk and came around to greet me enthusiastically. "I have a special guest coming here in moments and I was hoping you could go along with them."

Cathy was always an eager, friendly person, but something was off about her sudden behavior. She seemed both excited about my presence, yet terrified about something else. The customer? The weather? Something else?

"Well sure Cathy," I replied with a cordial smile. "I'd be happy to go out with them."

A sigh of relief bellowed from my boss. "Oh thank goodness! The other employees-" Cathy stopped mid sentence, as if she realized whatever she was about to say wasn't the wisest. She gathered herself quickly and resumed. "This guest is a bit high-end, and only comes when she's out of school."

That struck a curious nerve in me. "School? You mean she's a college student?"

"Yes Bob, an individual golf champion actually," Cathy said. "She's a local product, plays up in Gainesville. You may know her father: Richard Schmidt."

"Why yes I do," I chuckled, recognizing the name right off the bat. "Nice gentleman, one of my first days on the job. Saw him here only last week at the bar. He did mention a daughter, if I recall."

Cathy continued to see a bit tense. "Please, help with her clubs and whatever she may request. She will not need help with the course as she's quite familiar with it. I expect her to arrive here very shortly."

I nodded in understanding. "I'll get myself ready for the scorcher outside." As I turned to leave, Cathy had one last thing to say.

"Please Bob, do your best for her."

This sounded like a warning rather than a piece of advice, but I thought little of it as I closed the office door and made my way to the entrance to greet our guest. Stopping only momentarily to greet a regular, I eventually ran into Ike coming from the entryway. Much like his wife, it was evident something was nagging at him by the look on his wrinkled face.

"Ah, Bob, glad you're here today," Ike said, repeating his wife. "Would you-"

"Go out on the course with Richard Schmidt's daughter?" I finished his sentence. "Cathy already spoke with me. Heading to meet her shortly."

And just like with Cathy, I seemed to have lifted a huge burden off the older man's shoulders. "You're doing a great service for us," Ike said, drawing closer to me to whisper. "This girl is a brat. Totally spoiled, though she's quite the athlete. You'll see what I mean soon."

With a pat on the shoulder, Ike then slowly made his way down the hallway, leaving me wondering just how bad one college-aged girl could possibly be to draw the ire of two of the most respectable business owners I'd ever met.

"Guess I will just have to find out," I thought privately, then continued walking to the entrance. I just hoped the weather would improve over the course of the day.

A grandiose limo pulled smoothly up to the entrance under the shade of the canopy moments later. The driver came out and around to open a passenger side door. Emerging was the loveliest lady I'd ever seen step foot at this club. She stood reasonably tall for a woman-likely around 5'-9" or 5'-10"-and her slim figure was bronzed to perfection. Her shiny dark blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail behind her golf visor, wearing a white polo and shorts that only showed more of her gorgeous long legs all the way down to her white shoes. But what nearly dropped my jaw to the curb were her narrow hazel eyes, unblemished skin, flawless waxed brows and confident pink lips. Supermodel status.

"Good afternoon Miss Schmidt," I greeted her politely, extending a hand. "My name is Bob and I will be joining you today."

She accepted my handshake, surprising me with a firm grip. yet baby-smooth hands. "Please call me Ava," she said nonchalantly. "If you could help my driver with my things, we can get started as soon as possible. I would like to be finished before sunset begins."

Ava then proceeded to head inside to check in, leaving me with the driver to get her bag set up. The driver gave a roll of the eye and chuckled.

"She's like that."

"So I've heard," I sighed. Something was already telling me this was going to be a long day.

I was proven partially wrong due to the fact that Ava was, in fact, a terrific golfer and made her way through the course with timeliness and grace. Her stroke was pure, yet had an awesome power when she needed it. I was truly impressed with her form throughout, complimenting her on occasion only to have her nod in appreciation at the most. Ava was fairly quiet, talking only a little about her NCAA individual title back in May and her dad occasionally. I learned she'd been to this course almost every year since she'd turned 18, the minimum age. The young woman was heading into her senior year at the University of Florida in August, but she had a goal in mind for this course. She wanted to be four below last year's score, notably without any practice on these greens since then.

"I admire your dedication, but isn't that a bit much to expect Ava?" I told her as we approached hole nine.

Ava gave me an annoyed look as she pulled out her driver. "I'm on pace to be five below right now, if you were paying any attention," she replied sternly. "I just need to keep focused."

As I expected, the weather was really starting to make me sweat. Ava, on the other hand, seemed unaffected by the heat and humidity. Perhaps being a collegiate athlete prepared her for days such as this, yet I couldn't help but wonder if this young lady was even human. I watched as she effortlessly hit a perfect 200 yard drive in the middle of the green. Moments later, she put in an easy birdie.

"Should we head back to the clubhouse to cool off?" I suggested as we returned to the cart. "I'm sure a blast of AC will have you ready for the next-"

"We aren't taking a break back at the clubhouse," she interrupted, not even looking at me. "I said we are finishing this course before the sun starts to set. If we head back, we will be too late. Head to the next hole. The ride is all the break I need."

At first, I felt like protesting this awful decision. We certainly weren't low on water, but I truly wanted a break before the back nine. As I was about to protest, Ava shot me a fierce look that swiftly sent me to the driver's seat and started up the cart. So much for that idea. Out of the corner of my eye, I swore a smirk crossed the 21 year old's face, knowing she was the boss.

As Ava enjoyed a drink of vitamin water, she began to slip off her shoes to get comfy. I drove the cart to our next destination, but my passenger peaked my interest when she also removed her socks to reveal the most beautiful feet I had ever seen. Each toe was perfectly lined and painted a pleasant lilac color, her skin sweaty and tanned like the rest of her goddess body. Ava brought her legs and put her gorgeous feet out the cart, as if to sun them.

I've always appreciated the beauty of female feet, yet I had never seen a pair as divine as Ava's in my lifetime. A single shimmering toe ring adorned the second digit on her right foot. It took all my self control to not admire them the whole trip, stealing glances when I could as the young woman kept her feet out in sight. I prayed she didn't look down to the tent I pitched in my khakis.

The sun didn't give us any respite for the next nine holes, as if it were a determined battle between Ava and the big ball of fire in the sky to see who would yield first. My own composure began to melt away, but Ava kept hitting away like it were a lovely 80 and breezy out. It wasn't until the thirteenth hole that I noticed her begin to wipe her brow and drink more water. Her game wasn't hurting, though she lost a stroke to put her at below 4 on the next hole. I was sure she wanted that little cushion going into the final holes, yet she maintained herself admirably.

Hole 16. A nightmare for even the most seasoned golfers. I had yet to see anyone hit a birdie here, despite rumors there had been souls who'd done it. For the first time all afternoon, I could see concern written on Ava's face. Her opening drive was just a bit off center, but she still managed to land in the green and made up for it with her second stroke. The third stroke was where nerves reared their ugly head, much like I had seen many times at this particular hole. I could tell she was trying to get the ball within 30 feet of the hole, but instead came up short for 40 feet.

"Fuck," I heard her whisper and she power walked to the ball once it rested. Tired, overheated and carrying a rather heavy golf bag, I followed behind reluctantly.

Once Ava reached her ball, she motioned me to bring her putter. She kneeled down and began untying her shoes one by one, quickly pulling off her socks. Her beautiful toes graced the green grass she walked on, yet I was confused by her sudden move. I handed Ava her putter and she stopped for a moment, apparently aware of my confusion.

"I play barefoot a lot," Ava explained with another smirk written on her face. "I like the feeling on my feet. It helps me read the greens better, believe it or not."

What this goddess of a woman was suggested was preposterous. However, I wasn't about to argue with another chance to see those feet out in the open. Backing off a little bit, I watched as Ava mentally prepared herself. Her flawless toes curled on the grass, arms in a putting motion rehearsing for the stroke. A minute felt like an eternity. Ava finally approached the ball for the most important put of the day.

A smell unexpectedly hit my nose. Not an unpleasant one, but rather a strong one. Sweat, the smell of well-worn socks mixed into one. Ava's feet, no doubt. The aroma tickled my nose, which elicited panic immediately. A sneeze was on its way.

Swiftly, I brought a finger up to the bridge of my nose to stop the sneeze. Unfortunately, it was too late and I let out a howling achoo...just as Ava was making contact with the ball. The sneeze made her jump and changed the trajectory of the ball just enough. What would have been a perfect hit veered to the right slightly and missed, denying Ava the birdie.

Fear and regret creeped over me, especially when I looked into Ava's eyes and a fiery anger burned bright in them. Her lovely face was twisted into one of hate and disgust as she stared at me for a good 30 seconds. Then, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, calming herself. Ava walked to the ball, a mere foot from the hole. She putted away and that was the end of the hole. As she walked back, Ava picked up her shoes and socks, making her way back to the golf cart. I stood there frozen, unsure of what to do. Ava took a seat in the golf cart and gulped down her biggest drink of water yet.

"Are you coming or not?" her words calm, yet chiling to my ears. "We still have two more holes left and I intend to keep to my schedule."

My senses returned and jolted back to the cart. I placed her club bag in the back before hopping in the driver's seat to take us to our final holes. Something told me I avoided something extremely unpleasant at that moment, so I headed us out without a single word nor a glance at Ava's feet from then on forward.

The remaining two holes went without a hitch. Ava parred on both, leaving her with a five stroke score to end her day. Hers was an incredible score, yet her exquisite face did not betray any hint of frustration or satisfaction as she returned to the cart one final time.

"Back to the clubhouse?" I asked as I turned the key for what I hoped was the last time. That was not the case.

"No, I'm hot and I'd like to go to the Oasis now," Ava said cooly, not even turning to look at me.

The Oasis. The course's extravagant pool under the shade of a huge canopy and several misting fans. I had completely forgotten about this amenity. It made sense this young woman wanted to end her day at the pool, nor could I blame her. I nodded in acknowledgement, though unsure she'd seen, and we drove off to the pool.

For the first time since the sneezing accident, I looked towards her feet as we drove over to our destination. Ava had her shoes back on and feet inside the vehicle. Nevertheless, I could still picture those radiant toes up on the dashboard, basking in the sun's rays.

"Eyes forward Bob," I told myself. "You've done enough for one day."

The first thing I noticed as we reached The Oasis was the absence of anyone else. On a scorcher like today, I had expected others to be hiding under the canopy or taking a dip in the pool. Not a single soul appeared to be around.

I stopped the cart at the entrance, ready to depart once Ava was off and take her clubs back to the car. Ava, however, had other plans.

"You're not intending on leaving me here alone?" Ava snapped. "You're coming with me."

She got out and walked up to the canopy seemingly confident I'd obey her command. A part of me wanted to shrug it off and head back to the clubhouse immediately. Then, I thought about what Cathy had said.

"Do your best for her."

With a defeated sigh, I turned the cart off and followed the young lady up to the pool. The moment I walked under the shade of the canopy, it felt like all the weight of the intense heat melted off my shoulders. Misting fans further cooled the air, providing the only sound as the pool was calm across its surface.

Ava kicked off her shoes and took a seat on a cushioned pool chair. She breathed a long sigh of relief, pulling her hair out of her ponytail and letting the luscious locks cascade down past her shoulders. Her bronze legs stretched out to the end of the chair, slipping her socks off as the beauty laid back. I got my first real look at her soft, smooth soles just begging to be licked.

"There's a jug of water and glasses on that table over there," Ava indicated over towards the pool. "Pour me a drink and bring it to me."

I rolled my eyes, but made my way to "fetch" her drink. A part of me was just glad to get out of the sun and under the cool shade for a while. As I poured her drink, I noticed Ava stripped off her shirt and shorts, leaving the blond in nothing but a white sports bra and matching bottoms. Flat stomach, perky tits, stunning legs, perfect feet. Every part of Ava was supermodel worthy.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard quiet footsteps and looked up to see Jorge, a local masseuse we occasionally employed, appear seemingly out of thin air. Jorge was a tall, handsome man of Puerto Rican descent, appearing to be something out of a magazine. He was quite popular with the ladies and evidently Ava as well.

"Hi Jorge, did you miss me?" Ava purred seductively, a hungry look in her eyes.

A soft smile on his face, Jorge approached the young blonde with a towel in hand. He set it down on the table next to her chair before being met by Ava with a deep kiss. Several welcoming moans from Ava prompted Jorge to put his hands on her waist.

And there I was, water in hand and feeling extremely uncomfortable. What was I supposed to do? Interrupt? Walk out?

But Ava had her own idea as she slowly pulled back from Jorge and looked at me. "If you like what you see, bring me my water."

I didn't necessarily "like" what I saw, but I wasn't ready to start anything with Ava. Handing my water to Ava, I prepared to leave before the young woman cleared her throat.

"I haven't forgotten how you messed me up earlier," Ava said darkly. "I was a stroke off because of you. Don't you think you owe me an apology?"

My brow started to sweat again, even in the coolness of the oasis. Ava's eyes were squarely on me. Jorge showed little emotion, but noticeably backed off a touch as if to say "you're on your own bud."

As I was about to reluctantly utter the words "I'm sorry," Ava brought up her leg and pointed her foot at me. "You don't think I noticed you stealing looks at my feet, you perv? Aren't they beautiful?"

My self control seemed to have melted outside under the sun because I nodded my head. Yes, I did find her feet beautiful. Every inch of her seemingly radiated under the Florida sun.

"Kiss my foot," Ava quietly commanded.

I was dumbfounded. "What?" I managed to mutter.

"If my feet are that beautiful, kiss them," she repeated in a more forceful tone. "Kiss my feet and make me feel like the goddess I am."

What was left of my pride was gone. I slowly kneel before her and took her foot in hand. Ava's lip curled into a smile as I planted my first kiss on her sole, followed by several small kisses across her arch. My lips tasted a hint of hot sweat and a slight stench of ripe socks confined during a long 18 holes.

"I loved having my feet worshipped," Ava sighed. "The sight of someone at my feet...and the feeling of lips on my soles makes me wet."

Ava brought her hands under her bra, playing with her nipples as she began to moan softly. She brought her other foot up to my face and I showed them the same type of pleasure I had with the other. Jorge came down and once again kissed Ava. The oasis was soon packed with the noise of pleasure as the young goddess was treated by two men.