The Twelfth Hole

"I'll take it," I smiled, "as long as I don't have to carry your clubs, too."

On the next hole, we both hit the fairway and, surprisingly, I got a good shot to the green. Linda hit the green with ease, of course.

"You know," I said with a laugh, "you could let me enjoy my moment of glory at least a little bit before you show me what a real golfer can do."

She smiled and said, "Sorry, it's a vicious game."

We both two putted for par and she grumbled while I walked away happy. Everyone's perspective is different.

We climbed the hill to the twelfth tee box. We looked out at the course and city beyond, commenting on how beautiful a day it was.

Linda hesitated a bit, then said, "Sharia told me something about this hole." She looked me quickly, then looked down. "She said she learned some things here."

"Really?" I asked, "I wonder what she learned. It's a pretty simple hole."

"I don't think she was talking about the hole," she said. She looked over at the restrooms and said, "I think school was over there."

I frowned. "Just how much did she tell you?" I asked.

"Well," she started, " pretty much everything. She said it was the best part of the round."

"I'm glad she enjoyed it," I said. "I enjoyed it myself."

Linda looked down at the ground for a moment, then looked up with obvious eyes and said, "I was kind of hoping for a good round myself."

I knew that look, that look of want and hope. I probably had the same look myself. "Well," I said, "I'm not sure that's a good idea. Someone might see us."

She looked out over the course and knew it was a lie. "I'm willing to take the risk; aren't you?" she asked.

"I just wanted to be sure," I smiled. "Come on."

We walked behind the restrooms and I gently pulled her toward me, burying her in a kiss. She was surprised at first, but quickly kissed me back. She already had me aroused; I was hoping for the same for her. I had one hand at the small of her back and another moving up to her breast. I dropped my hand from her back to her ass and squeezed it, feeling the muscles and tightness of it. I toyed with her nipple as our tongues danced. She was as soft as I was hard. Her lips were tender and eager. I nibbled on her ear as I moved my hand from her ass to inner thigh. She moaned in anticipation, with a little shiver to let me know she was waiting. I lifted her little skirt and cupped her pussy through her shorts. She pushed her hips forward to get more pressure.

"We don't have a lot of time," I whispered.

"I know," she responded, "let's make the most of it."

I kissed her and rubbed her breast some more, drawing moans from her that made it clear what she wanted.

"Lean back against the fence," I said.

"I don't want to get any stains on my uniform," she said, as she took off her shirt.

I watched, mesmerized, as she removed her bra. I shook my head and said, "Those breasts are beautiful." I reached out and cupped one breast, then bent over and licked a nipple. She gave a soft moan as I rubbed the other breast and sucked on the nipple that was in my mouth. Her breasts were so soft and a good size for my hands. As I was paying attention to her breasts, she removed her skirt, then her shorts. I could see her panties were already wet. I pulled her panties down and she leaned against the fence, tilting her hips toward me to reveal a shaved pussy with beautiful lips. "Oh, my," I said, "this is a very pretty pussy. Spread your legs a bit, will you, sweetie; I want to taste you." She gave me access and I licked her lips, then put my tongue right on her clit. She shivered with the touch and moaned. I could tell from the swelling that she was already pretty far. I licked some more and she pushed her hips out to give me more access. I spread her lips to get to the clit better. My licks of her little nub were rewarded with more moans. I stood up and put two fingers into her wet pussy, pulling them up toward her clit, massaging her pussy to continued moans. I kissed her while I worked on her clit.

"Fuck me, John," she said, "fuck me now."

"Turn around and hold onto the fence," I commanded, "I'm going to shove my cock in as deep as it will go."

She quickly turned around and grabbed the fence, bending over to make her pussy lips stick out. I pulled my cock out and rubbed it on her pussy, coating it with her juices. I slid back and forth, covering the whole of my cock with her desire.

"Stick it in, please!" she begged. I complied.

I rammed my cock into her, sliding easily into her channel. Her pussy was tight and the feeling was incredible. My grunts of pleasure were matched with her moans of delight. I grabbed her hips and slowly moved inside of her. She pushed back with impatience as her body started to tighten.

"Your pussy is incredible," I said as I continued to pump into her.

She moaned in response. "Fuck that pussy," she said, "fuck it hard."

I started to pound into her as her moans got louder. "Please," she said, "don't stop. Oh, that feels so good." She was whimpering now, reveling in the feelings. I continued to plow into her, my mind shutting out everything in the universe but her pussy. Time and time again, I rammed my cock into her. I was approaching my limit. I reached around to rub her clit and her body tightened, her pussy grabbing onto my cock. A long scream came from her as we both exploded. Harder and harder I pushed, each plunge causing her to scream again. God, but she felt great!

I wrung out every ounce of electricity I had in my body and felt her body shiver, her legs threatening to collapse. Her body sagged on the fence as her climax ran to completion. I slowed the rhythm to gently bring her down, finally stopping when she got too sensitive. I stayed in her pussy, not moving, and held her hips.

After a while, I pulled out and turned her around. I kissed her soft lips and wrapped my arms around her. "Is that what you were looking for?" I asked.

"That was exactly what I was looking for," she panted, and she kissed me again.

"You were nothing short of stunning," I said.

"So were you," she said. "The stories seem to be true."

"Stories?" I asked.

"Sure," she said, "girls talk, you know."

"Oh."

I got some toilet paper from the restroom and she cleaned up a bit, then put her clothes back on. We continued the round, but it was clear our minds were elsewhere. When we finished the eighteenth, I told her I had to go to the office and said goodbye. She said, "Thanks for the back nine. Maybe we can do it again sometime." She smiled at me and waved.

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I continued playing on Thursdays, but I mostly played by myself. Once, there were three old guys waiting to tee up, so I joined them.

"How long you been a member," one of them, Jake, asked.

"About ten years," I said, "but only recently have I been able to play much. It's a nice course, but I can't seem to make the time for it."

"Yeah," Mike said, "making a living frequently gets in the way of living."

I asked how long each of them had been members and there was general agreement that they had all been members longer than I had been alive. I doubt that's true, I'm north of fifty, but it probably wasn't too far off. I think the youngest of them was in his late seventies.

They talked a lot about how the club has changed over the last few decades. For quite a while, the club was in horrible financial straits, with bankruptcy almost a certainty a time or two. It never happened, they said, but it was close. There wasn't a large membership, which made it easier to get a tee time, but it also meant financial collapse was just around the corner. Somehow, the club always survived.

After a while, the conversation drifted to some of the members, past and present. Being a country club, there was a tendency for people to join who were a bit arrogant and full of themselves. A few of the members were first class pricks, Mike said, but most of them were gone. There's a lot of betting, of course, because men's egos force them to put money where their mouth is. Jake says he prefers to keep his money in his pocket.

We teed off and the old guys hit short little shots pretty much in the center of the fairway. None of them had a chance of reaching the green. I muscled up and pounded my drive far and into the trees. I couldn't reach the green either, but at least I was closer. However, they all reached the green in three, with Mike and Lou having a definite chance of saving par, and I was still chipping from behind a tree. I hate old men.

They watched me play for the next few holes, sending my ball left and right but rarely straight, and Lou said, "John, I do believe you have played more yards than this course has." He was right, of course, but I was still annoyed. Still, I had to admit it was funny.

The conversation eventually changed to the women of the club. Many did not play, but quite a few did, and some of them were pretty good.

"Anne is probably the best we have," Lou said.

Jake shook his head and said, "Janine is better."

"For blowjobs, maybe," said Lou.

Jake laughed and said, "Yeah, that too." I didn't ask how they could possibly know.

"Who's Janine?" I asked.

Lou piped up. "Remember that bonehead we were talking about, the guy who lost about $1200 to the high rollers here, the guy who thought he was about twenty strokes better than he is? Janine is his wife. She's got these big tits that she struts around. She's actually a pretty good golfer, but her husband is a jerk, so she doesn't play with him. She's a good looking lady, if you like big tits, a small waist, and a tight ass. Not that I would remember, of course." Mike and Jake nodded their heads. I guess they all agreed they couldn't remember.

The rest of the round was as expected: I crushed it way past them on each hole and the worst of them, Jake, beat me by ten strokes. There's a reason I don't bet.

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It was several weeks later that I had a playing partner again. Most of the time, on Thursday morning, there was nobody on the tenth tee, so I played alone. I'm okay with that. However, on this one Thursday, the starter told me Mrs. Barns was already on the tenth tee, waiting to tee off. He said I could probably join her if I was quick enough. I picked up my bag and walked over to the tenth.

"Mrs. Barns," I said, "I'm John. Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all. Janine Barns," she said as she took my hand.

She matched her description. Breasts too large to play golf well, but certainly the right size to make a shaft stiffer. Nice ass to go with a narrow waist. And a pretty face. For some reason, the old guys left out the pretty face. Her eyes were a deep green; I really liked them. They went well with her smile.

"I heard you're a pretty good golfer," I said. "I hope you're tolerant of me. I'm struggling with my game right now. Well, not right now, exactly; more like forever."

She smiled at that. "Everyone struggles," she said.

"Yeah," I said, "I guess it wouldn't be golf if we didn't struggle. What's your handicap?"

"I'm a twelve, but I haven't had any good rounds recently," she said. "What's your handicap?"

"My handicap?" I said. "A lack of talent. But I play fast."

"Then we'll get along just fine," she said with a smile.

I teed off first and hit my ball on the left side of the fairway, not far but at least findable. She teed off from the women's tees a bit in front of me and sent her ball right down the center. I watched her form and noticed she had a very nice swing. I also noticed she had a very nice figure. I could look at that all day long.

As we walked to our tee shots, I asked if her husband played too. "He does play, but he's too arrogant to admit he's not very good. He's always losing money to the guys who actually know how to play. It makes me mad when he does that," she said. There was a frown on her face. "He's getting older and refuses to accept that there are things he can't do anymore." She hesitated. "Lots of things." She shook her head.

"Well," I said, "it's a law of the universe that husbands are pretty useless."

She laughed and said, "You got that right."

"How long have you been married?" I asked.

"We've had five good years," she said.

"Only married five years? You're still newlyweds," I said.

"No," she answered, "we've been married twenty years; only the first five were any good."

"Ah," I said. I looked at her and said, "So you got married when you were what, six?"

She laughed. "You're my friend forever. I got married young, but not that young." She smiled at the compliment. But I really meant it. I was guessing she was about forty, but she looked a lot younger.

"Okay," I said, "I'm pretty sure you're not twenty five. If I had to guess, I would guess forty, but only because I can do math. There's no way I could tell from the way you look."

"Pretty close," she said. "I won't tell you how old I am, but that's pretty close."

"You know," I said, "forty is a really good age for a woman. Still plenty young enough to have tremendous beauty, but old enough to have things to talk about and to know what to do. A really good age."

She smiled at that. "Yeah," she said as she gave me a sideways glance, "I know how to do a few things." I am not sure why, maybe it was the way she said it, but that made my cock twitch.

I watched her make one good swing after another while I sent my ball to places on the course that didn't even exist. She laughed at my travails, but in a nice, flirty way. When we got to the twelfth tee, she looked out at the vista.

"Wow, it's pretty today. Look at that sky," she said. I agreed it was beautiful. She turned to me and said, "You've seen a lot of the course today."

"Yeah," I said, "I've been playing army golf; left, right, left right."

She laughed. "Well," she said, "let me show you a place even you can't hit the ball to." She took my hand and lead me behind the restrooms.

She moved close to me and said, "Isn't this a nice spot? Cozy, don't you think?" She put her hand on my chest and rubbed up and down. "No one here but us," she winked. I have to admit my heart was racing just a bit. "No one here but you, me, and Mr. Johnson," she said as she reached down and rubbed my cock. I was more than a bit aroused and it was quite obvious to Janine. "Oh, that looks good," she said as she stared at the bulge in my shorts. She looked up and gave me a kiss, a hungry kiss. Her lips were soft, but there was an urgency to the kiss. I returned the urgency, kissing her softly but insistently. Our tongues played with each other as she rubbed my cock. I reached up to touch her breast, cupping it with my hand. It was larger than I could fit but it felt good. It felt good to her, too; she gave me a smile and a moan.

As I rubbed her nipple, she pushed me backwards toward the building. "Lean against that wall, stud," she said, "I want to show you something." I leaned into the stucco of the restroom and watched her as she unbuttoned her blouse. She did it slowly, just to tease me, a smile on her lips all the while. "You're going to like this," she said. She loosened her blouse and bent over, just a little, so show her cleavage.

"Yeah," I said, "I like that a lot."

"I haven't gotten to the good part yet," she said, as she kneeled down and starting loosening my belt. She then unbuttoned my shorts, unzipped them, then pulled them down to my shoes. She dropped my underwear and my stiff cock sprung out. "Oh, you've been waiting for me, haven't you?" she said. She looked at me and smiled. Then she grabbed my cock and stroked it.

"Oh, that feels good," I said, as I tilted my head up and closed my eyes. I could feel her hand stroking me and could see in my mind's eye her breasts swaying with the effort. Then the strokes got shorter and just at the base of my cock. I should have expected it, but the touch of her lips was a surprise, a very pleasant surprise. Her mouth was warm as it encircled the tip of my cock. Her tongue moved around the edge of my glans, concentrating on the underside. My cock twitched in appreciation. "Oh, you know what to do, that's for sure," I groaned.

"I know a few tricks," she said, and she descended on my cock again. She brought more of it into her mouth and moved back and forth, wiggling her tongue along my shaft, and playing with my balls. Her movements were rapidly bring me to the edge. I tried to hold on, but her stroking and licking were driving me higher. My muscles were tensing as she worked my cock harder and harder.

I grunted with obvious pleasure. "Oh, God, that's good," I said through clenched teeth, "so very good." She worked faster, bring me closer. "Let me shove this cock into your pussy," I said.

She pulled my cock from her mouth but kept on stroking me. "No, I can't do that," she said, with a trace of regret in her voice. "I promised my husband I wouldn't fuck anyone else." Then she sucked on my cock some more, pulling off once again. "But that leaves a lot on the table," she smiled.

She could tell I was close and her sucking and stroking were relentless. I groaned, letting her know how close I was. My muscles were getting very tight and my cock was so hard it hurt. I was about to explode when she grabbed my ass and pulled herself in, completely swallowing my cock. The feeling was indescribable and I came hard, burst after burst of semen shooting down her throat. My cock pulsated and electricity bolted through my body, making my legs weak. "Oh, shit!" I yelled. She continued to suck as hard as she could, drawing the sparks from my body. She pulled out a little bit and stroked my cock while her tongue massaged my head and made my body jerk some more. Slowly, she took her mouth away and bled away the last of my climax with her hand.

"My God, you were incredible," I said, still panting a bit.

She rose from her knees. "Glad to be of service," she said, smiling at me.

I pulled her head toward me and kissed her, tasting me on her lips. "Thank you," I said, "that was fantastic."

"You're welcome," she said. "Perhaps it'll help your golf game."

"I doubt it," I said, "but it was definitely worth a try." She smiled, gave my cock a little tug, then buttoned up her blouse and walked back to the tee.

"Shall we continue?" she said, smiling at my weakened state.

"I'll give it my best shot," I said.

"I think I already got your best shot," she smiled.

We finished the round, she playing very well and I struggling. On the last hole, she had a putt for birdie that she made; I had already missed my bogey putt. I put the flag back in the hole. "Thanks for the round," I said, "thanks for everything."

"My pleasure," she said, "it was fun playing with you." She winked. As she turned to walk back to the clubhouse, she said, "It's better than playing with kids, isn't it?"

Maybe it was; I'd need to study it more to be sure.