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I was a French major in college. I know what you’re thinking. It’s not a very practical subject if you’re hoping to get a job after graduation. I had tried out a few other majors without quite finding my niche. My parents finally said, “Lindsey, just pick something that interests you and stick with it. The important thing is to graduate!” I vaguely thought I might privately tutor French students. Also, French would be essential if I ever went to Paris, which I longed to do someday.
I met Gemma during freshman year when sang soprano next to each other in Chorus. We started rooming together our sophomore year and have been inseparable ever since. We even look alike – both of us are tall and slender with long hair, C cup breasts, tight asses, big smiles, and our signature red lipstick and matching red fingernail polish. Only she’s blond and I’m a brunette. I know we sound like stereotypical airheads, but we’re not. We just like to have fun.
Our senior year, we discovered we both had to take one more elective course to graduate. It could be anything, so we decided to take a class together. After considering our options, we picked something neither of us had ever done. Golf. We figured it would be easy. Plus, being outdoors for class would help us get a start on our summer tans. The class didn’t begin until the second half of the semester so the weather would be warmer.
The beginning of April, we showed up at the golf center in our yoga pants, tank tops, and pony- tails without any equipment, of course. Our teacher was Mr. Warden. “But you can call me ‘Ed,'” he told us. He said we could use the college’s clubs until we found out if we wanted our own. “But I recommend you purchase a glove here at the clubhouse.” I didn’t even know gloves were part of the golfer wardrobe. I bought one. And a visor, too.
Ed was definitely hot, and the way his polo shirt fit his chest was, well, just right. His eyes lit up when he saw Gemma. She was blushing, something I didn’t see often. What?? I looked back and forth between them and could practically feel the electric current. Okay then. I could tell she was going to enjoy this class.
It was a small class – 10 students. I guess that made sense because all those clubs waving around could get dangerous. We were the only girls. I had expected to be out on the golf course, but Ed explained that we weren’t ready. His goal was to have us on the course in a couple of weeks.
We marched out to the driving range for our first lesson. There was a lot more to golf than I thought. We learned how to stand, to hold the club, to hold our heads, to prepare for a shot. Gemma and I giggled when we found out we were not supposed to bend over at the waist but to use our hips and sort of stick our butts out. We were both good at that. Then there were a lot of words we had to learn. The only golf term I already knew was “fore!” I learned about par, bogey, birdie, tee, divot, fairway, and more. I took careful notes as I knew these words would all be on a test someday.
The biggest surprise for me was that I couldn’t hit the ball. I couldn’t believe it! I’d watched a little golf before, and it looked so easy. I kept swinging the club, but it only found air. Then I heard a satisfying “whack” as Gemma’s club connected with her ball. She jumped up and down and high fived me with an enthusiastic “woo hoo!” Finally, my club also made solid contact, and my ball went flying into the air. Wow! What a feeling of triumph! I was hooked.
Our class only met on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but Ed told us we could come practice on the driving range any time. He said he would be here every day if we needed extra help. He looked significantly at Gemma when he said this.
That night in our dorm room, I teased Gemma about Ed’s obvious attentions to her. “You like him!” I taunted her.
“I do,” she grinned.
“He’s adorable,” I agreed.
Both Gemma and I had discovered we preferred older men to college boys. The boys are cute and fun to hang out with sometimes. But for nice evenings out or for sex, experienced men win, hands down. Personally, I simply find them more attractive. I love a guy with a little gray in his hair, some smile lines around his eyes, confidence in his walk, elegance in his manners. So sexy. Ed was certainly a prime example. I was happy for Gemma.
We were totally motivated to practice our golf swings the next day. That one perfect hit yesterday made me itch for more like it. Ed seemed pleased to find us on the driving range. He stood close behind Gemma with his arms around her, hands on top of hers, showing her how to hold the club. I could have told him she didn’t really need help with that, but maybe he knew already. Anyway, they were having fun. I noted Gemma wasn’t shy about pushing her butt back against him. Kind of turned me on just watching them. I had a few good hits, so I was satisfied with the practice session.
The next class, we learned the importance of stretching and warming up to reduce injury. One exercise we did was to straddle a bench and hold a club horizontally behind our backs in the crook of our bostanc─▒ escort elbows. Then we were to twist left and right. The effect of this position was to push our tits out in front and keep them there as we straddled the bench and twisted. Gemma and I looked great doing this, and all the boys and Ed eyed us with appreciation. Another exercise was designed to strengthen the spine. It was called “cat-camel” and was done on our hands and knees. First, we rounded our backs like a camel hump, then we arched our backs with our butts in the air. Yep. We looked good doing that one, too. I could tell every boy in the class was thinking about grabbing our tight asses and taking us from behind. I can’t lie – I loved the attention.
Ed Warden was a good teacher, and after a couple of weeks, everyone in the class was hitting balls respectably and using words like “square stance” and “lie” and “short game.” We knew the difference between irons and woods, a driver and a putter, a drive and a chip. We even knew where the nineteenth hole was, though we’d not visited it yet. We were ready to get out on the golf course.
Gemma and I had each purchased the wardrobe of shoes, polo shirts, and a cute golf skirts. Our long legs made the skirts look pretty short. We were eager to get out on the course. I felt confident that I would do okay. I had spent a lot of time on the driving range as well as practicing my putting nearly every day. I was really enjoying this class. Ed and Gemma had not made much progress with their other thing, but the sparks were still flying when they looked at each other.
Weekends were busy, so I didn’t get a chance to practice golf. On Saturdays I worked at my mom’s travel agency. By the way, that’s another reason I studied French – so I could assist people with their travel plans in France. On Sundays I hung out with my 11-year old sister. We would go to the park and get ice cream, sometimes go to a movie, but our favorite activity was riding our bikes out in the country. I would have helped her with her homework, but she was so smart that she didn’t need any help. She loved to read, like me. In fact, part of the reason I spent time with her on Sundays was to get her out of her books for a little while to interact with people. I loved her to pieces.
The first day on the actual golf course was full of surprises. Hitting off the tee box felt very different from the driving range. My ball did not go straight at all. In fact, none of my balls went where they were supposed to. I was hunting them all day. If it hadn’t been a class, I would probably have quit in frustration. I hit so many balls into the pond that I finally gave up, walked around it, and dropped the ball on the other side. The best I could say for my first experience on the course was that it was a beautiful day and the course was gorgeous. Also, it was fun driving around in the golf cart.
The most exciting part of the day happened at the 7th hole. As usual, I hit my ball into the woods. I went in to look for it, ducking under some low branches and poking around in the leaves with my club. I heard someone whistling quite near me. I looked up to see a guy pop out from behind a tree, zipping up his slacks. After my initial surprise, I grinned at him. “Caught you!” I teased him.
He was unembarrassed. “When you gotta go, you gotta go,” he said, smirking back at me while giving me a long look up and down. He sauntered back to his friend who was waiting to tee off on the 8th hole. Cocky attitude, yes, and just my type. Salt and pepper hair, smiling blue eyes, exuding masculinity. Probably married, dang it. Gemma and I laughed when I told her how I’d caught him peeing behind a tree.
When we had all finished, Ed collected our score cards. Then he invited us to join him at the bar and grill in the clubhouse, where he bought us all Cokes and congratulated us on completing our first nine holes. The clubhouse grill room had a veranda that looked out on the course and the valley. There was a little creek running through the valley and it was all very picturesque. Why had I never tried golf before?
After a while, two more guys came in and ordered beers. Ed went over to them, obviously his friends. When I looked closer, I saw one of them was the man I had seen in the woods. When he caught my eye, he winked. What a flirt! He said something to Ed, then Ed brought him over to our table.
“Greg, meet two of my best students, Gemma and Lindsey. Ladies, this is my buddy, Greg. He’s one of the pros here, so when you’re done with my class, you can graduate to him.”
Ed placed his hand on Gemma’s shoulder. Claiming her, possessive already. But Greg wasn’t looking at her anyway. His broad smile and twinkling eyes were all for me as I grinned back. I felt the heat through my entire body. Suddenly I really wanted to get laid.
I didn’t see Greg again that week, which bugged me. I couldn’t get him off my mind. Gemma had found out from Ed that he was divorced, no kids. I was happy about that. I wanted his hands on me and mine on him. I wanted to know what kissing him would be bostanc─▒ escort bayan like. My reaction to him was stronger than it should have been for only having seen him twice, but the tantalizing possibility of knowing him better made my skin tingle.
The next Tuesday, I was leaning against a golf cart waiting for class to begin when Greg returned from coaching his client. He walked over to me, moving in close enough that I could smell peppermint on his breath.
“Hello, Lindsey,” he said, while his hot gaze raked me up and down. That’s all he said, but what he didn’t say hung in the air between us. What he didn’t say was, “I want you. Right now.” I could feel it, and it made my pussy clench. He leaned in so close that I thought for a moment he was going to kiss me. Everybody was looking at us, though, so he pulled back, leaving me slightly breathless.
After class, we were all in the grill room again when Greg came in. I was sitting on a stool at the bar drinking a Coke when he sat down at a table opposite Ed. When he looked over at me, I spread my knees apart slightly, giving him a view of my thighs under the little golf skirt, while continuing to chat with my classmates. The next time he looked, my knees were farther apart, giving him a peek at my white panties as I pretended to ignore him. As I said, I like to have fun. Greg understood this game. He leisurely walked over to me, took my hand, and said, “Come with me.”
Without a word, Greg led me down a hallway to the men’s locker room. As soon as the door closed behind us, he pushed me up against the wall and leaned in. “You little tease,” he accused. His hand stole under my skirt to my panties, stroking my pussy through the fabric. He chuckled with satisfaction when he discovered they were already wet. He looked me boldly in the eyes while he continued to fondle me, placing his other hand on the wall behind me and leaning close. His lips moved nearer, making my breath hitch and my knees wobble.
Then his mouth was on mine, hungry and intense. It was pure lust, and I reveled in the white hot sensation. Before I could think, my hands were under his shirt, roaming over his chest. Then his hands were all over me as he continued to press my lips with that kiss. My lips parted to allow him in, and he fucked my mouth with his tongue. It was all so fast and steamy I couldn’t keep up. He slid his hands down my sides to my ass and pulled me in to rub me against the hard outline of his cock. I had a craving to see him naked, to be filled up with that cock.
“Turn around,” he growled. “I’m going to fuck you right now, naughty girl.” He turned me and bent me over a padded bench, flipping up my skirt and pulling down my panties. I heard the zipper of his slacks and looked around to see him pumping his thick cock. He knew what I wanted. I wiggled my butt and stuck it higher in the air for him.
“Hurry up, then,” I ordered.
He groaned and grabbed my ass, positioning the head of his cock at my entrance. I could feel him there as he teased me by pushing in just a little. He waited a beat, letting the suspension grow until I thought I’d go crazy with need. I wiggled backwards, trying to get more of him inside me, but he held my hips firmly in place. Then he pushed into me. I moaned with the delicious feeling of him inside me, filling me. He barely gave me time to adjust to him before he began pumping in and out. My pussy walls clenched around his cock as he fucked me hard.
“Fuck, you feel good.” He slammed his cock into me with each word. “I’ve wanted to drill this pussy since the first time I saw you.”
He reached around to press my clit with his thumb, and I came like a rock star, crying out in ecstasy until Greg covered my mouth with one hand. His orgasm was right behind mine as, grunting with each thrust, he exploded inside me. He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting.
“Wow,” I said when he finally let me up. I was still breathless. We adjusted our clothing, grinning at each other, feeling euphoric after the release of all that sexual tension.
Greg took my face in both hands and kissed me tenderly and sweetly. While his first kiss had revved me up, this one made me melt. Satisfaction flowed through every inch of my body.
Just then, someone came barging through the locker room door. We sprang apart guiltily.
“Uh, sorry,” he said. “Didn’t know anyone was in here.”
“That’s OK,” Greg assured him. “We just had something we needed to deal with. We’re finished now.”
He pulled me out the door. We snickered as we imagined what would have happened if the guy had come in just a moment sooner. Before sending me back into the grill, Greg whispered in my ear. “Don’t think that was the last time. I haven’t had nearly enough.” He patted me on the butt and pushed me through the door of the room where my classmates were still hanging out.
Another day, Greg and I sat together on the veranda of the clubhouse, enjoying the beautiful weather and the view. We were getting to know each other a little better, which was good since we had had sex escort bostanc─▒ before even having a conversation. I told him about my mom’s travel agency, my dream of going to Paris after graduation, my sister and how we enjoyed bike rides.
Greg shared that he liked to ride, too. He described his experience riding his bike with a group across Iowa one time. I learned that he had traveled a lot and had been to Paris more than once. “You’ll love it,” he assured me. “Wish I could go with you. I’d love to be the one to introduce you to that lovely city.” He was reluctant to talk about his failed marriage, so I didn’t press. I could tell he had suffered a lot of hurt there. The more we talked, the more I realized I liked him for more than just his sexy body. He was adventurous, funny, kind, open.
With only a week to the end of the semester, Gemma and I thought we were getting pretty good at golf. Still, it was a surprise when Ed suggested a foursome with himself, Greg, Gemma, and me.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” I protested. “We can’t play with you pros. We’ve only been on the course, like, four times. It sometimes takes me 10 shots just to get to the green.”
“Don’t worry,” Ed soothed me. “It’s all about having fun. Here’s what we’ll do. Hit the ball three times, and then, no matter how near or far you are, just pick it up and place it on the green. That should take away the stress and make things even.”
Actually, that did sound fun. We went on Friday afternoon because neither of the guys had clients at that time. Greg gave me a kiss on the back of my neck as he walked past me to get into our cart. All the time we were riding around the course he had his hands on me, stroking my leg, squeezing my knee, putting his arm around my shoulder. He seemed to love and need to touch me. It wasn’t sexy touch, but affectionate. He looked at me often, not with that hot look, but with a soft one in his eyes. It made me think he might be interested in more than just fucking. Was I interested in more? I always excused my seductive behavior by saying I just liked to have fun. But maybe I, too, was ready for something more than just fun.
The guys basically played against each other, and Gemma and I kept up with them by playing the three-ball rule. Every time I hit a ball into the woods, Greg came with me to look for it, which gave him an opportunity to laughingly kiss me or feel me up or spank my ass – or all the above. I was doing it too, rubbing my hand up and down his obvious hard-on through his slacks. All this messing around was getting me hot and horny. At one point, Greg put his lips to my ear and growled, “I plan to see you naked before this day is over.” My pussy was so wet I wished I had brought extra panties. I was going to need them before this round was finished.
At the ninth hole there was a little restroom, thank goodness. I’d had more than one opportunity to be grateful for it during golf class. I was perplexed when Greg walked with me to it, but the light dawned when he came inside with me and locked the door.
“I’ve been looking forward to this opportunity,” he said in a low voice, as he stood intoxicatingly close to me. “Get your business done, then take off your clothes.”
This man sure knew what he wanted in the sexual arena, and I loved it. I came out of the stall buck naked, the cool air on my skin giving me goosebumps. His eyes roamed over my body with satisfaction and something like awe. “You are amazing,” he breathed. “Unbelievably gorgeous. There is nothing in the world more interesting to me right now than looking at you. Except maybe kissing you.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, making my nipples harden and pussy clench. He pulled me in for one of his long, slow, hot kisses that ignited every part of me that wasn’t already on fire. His hands found my breasts, and I allowed him to stoke them as we kissed, to lift and squeeze and tease my nipples until I was breathless. Then, he grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the sink counter. “Spread your legs for me,” he demanded.
“Hey,” I protested. “You’ve still got all your clothes on. I’m not doing anything until I see your naked ass.”
He smirked as he unbuttoned his shirt, slowly like a stripper, and took it off. I loved his curly chest hair and longed to rub my chest against his. His eyes were on me as he unzipped his slacks and allowed his erection out of its cage. It sprang up with enthusiasm, and I itched to get my hands on it. Or my mouth on it. Or my pussy on it. Whatever I could get. Maybe all three.
Once he had stripped, Greg took hold of my thighs and spread them apart so he could lean in closer. I felt his erection pressed hard against my pussy and ached to feel it slide inside me. He kissed my mouth, my face, my neck, my shoulders, biting with little nips, then soothing with licks and more kisses until I tingled all over. “My god, you are beautiful,” he whispered. He caressed my breasts with his hands, then with his lips. I sighed and let my head fall back as I drowned in the lovely sensations, letting thoughts of what I wanted to do to him go by the wayside for the moment as I enjoyed every moment of pleasure he was giving me. He smoothed his hands down my sides and let his fingers play over my stomach. Every touch sent red-hot sparks to my pussy. He ran his hands up my legs, tickling the backs of my knees, waking up my entire body.
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