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Chance walks around behind her, showing her how to place her hands on the club, showing her how to line her feet up with the ball on the tee. He curls his body over hers, briefly holding her belly so that he can show her how to swing her hips, and watching this turns me on all over again. I can’t wait to get in the cart and get going. There’s a little tunnel on the third hole that I am looking forward to very much.
“Okay? You don’t have to make a big swing. Just connect with the ball and follow through, okay?”
Brow wrinkled in concentration, she glares at the ball. Her fingers wriggle against the club handle and she rocks back and forth quickly, shaking that adorable ass of hers. I hold my breath as she draws back and then swings forward, connecting solidly and sending the golf ball straight down the fairway.
“Did I do it? I can’t see it!”
I watch the ball bounce somewhat to the right, but still on the fairway. Chance raises his eyebrows at me.
“Actually, that was pretty amazing! Are you sure this is your first time?”
She casts her weight on one side and gives me a sarcastic look. “Don’t you think you would know if I were some kind of secret golf club girl in high school?”
“You could’ve been taking lessons for the last three years,” I answer.
“Nope!” she replies, swinging the club playfully as she skips back to the golf cart and drops it in her new pink bag. “That was my very first time hitting a golf ball. It looks like I actually kick ass at it!”
I don’t remember golf being quite this enjoyable. It’s usually something we have to do with the executives of whatever company is trying to buy our new application. Usually we have to let them win. Chance and I actually don’t get the opportunity to go out and play together very often. Which is a bummer. It’s a lot of fun, as I am remembering now.
The three of us a zigzag back and forth across the fairway, while Chance and I try to fill Chelsea in on the general rules and protocols of golf. She drives the cart like a mad woman, with a beer in one hand, brazenly chugging it as she speeds toward the green.
Real golfers are made by the short game, as they say, and she gets adorably frustrated when it turns out that it is actually difficult to get the ball into the hole. She putts past it a few times before making the point.
“How many was that?” she asks, squinting under her visor.
“Um? Six maybe? Twelve? Who cares?”
“It’s fun though,” she smiles, switching back and forth again. “Especially this outfit. I love this little skirt. And the shoes are great!”
“Yeah, I love that little skirt too,” I nod hungrily. “Why don’t you get back here so we can get to the next hole?”
She skips back toward me, swinging into the seat, holding onto the pole. Chance cracks open another beer and slaps the top of the cart twice to let me know it’s safe to drive on.
As we round the gravel curve, I crane my neck to see ahead and behind us. There are no other teams on the course. We’ve got at least a few minutes of privacy.
The cart rolls to a stop under a tree, where it is cooler in the shade.
“Wow, it really is beautiful out here,” she sighs.
“Show me your tits.”
She raises her eyebrows, a playful smirk twisting her pink lips. Slowly she tugs the hem of her shirt out of her skirt and raises it, inch by inch, teasing me with every exposed millimeter.
“Out here? In front of everybody?” she whispers.
“Yes.”
“And what would you like me to do next?”
The cart shifts as I step out of the driver’s seat, looking around again for good measure. Chance follows, positioning himself at the back of the cart, leaning on it with his shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest and a mischievous smile on his face.
“I want you to come over here and lean over the driver’s seat.”
She looks surprised and excited. Quickly she finishes raising her shirt and tucks her tits together between her forearms, jiggling them playfully before hopping out of the seat and skipping around the front of the golf cart.
When she gets to the driver’s seat, she stops for a second, pouting, vamping. She struts in front of me, pointing her toes and flexing her leg muscles before dramatically leaning forward to rest her weight on her forearms in the seat. Twisting her head, she stares over her shoulder at me and winks. The wind ruffles her skirt, lifting it up to expose the tight, black panties underneath.
I am already rock-hard again, just like I always am for her. I never seem to run out of energy for this one. Just the sight of her untanned bottom gets me hard. I pull the skirt down hard, immediately groaning when I see that sweet pink diamond from behind. Right there, that perfect flower pussy. The vaj my brother just had an hour ago, now here for me.
