Keywords: M/F M+/F anal, oral
Author: W R Jenkins
Title: Potter: Miss Ames: Club Pro

Disclaimer:(standard) Do not screw up. Do not do anything illegal.
This includes specifically (but not limited to) reading on if you are 
under 18- 21 in some localities If you are underage you must leave 
now. If you're young and curious, this is not the place to get the 
straight story. You act like this and people will look at you strange 
and give you a wide berth. Also, don't try this at home. Some of this 
stuff is just plain wrong, most of it is unsafe in the present viral 
climate and some of it doesn't work in this universe. They are stories. 
They deal with ideas, fantasies and thoughts that might not even be 
pleasant in real life. Thoughts are like that. Fantasies are there so
we can toy with the sensations without feeling or inflicting the pain, 
despair or humiliation. End Sermon.

Miss Ames: Club Pro - (MissAmes.txt) Susan Ames: enigma or everywoman?
Well, not every woman has a 2 handicap. You don't need to know golf
to get this - it's sex after all- but there's some subtle things you'll
understand better if you have a grasp of the rules. But it's all about
Miss Ames, not golf. M/F, M+/F, anal, oral


Miss Ames: Club Pro

Chapter 1 - Rob takes a lesson

Susan Ames scowled at Mr. Travis. He was a lecherous old goat and she
knew what he wanted from the first time his eyes look their merry time
sliding like slime over her body. He thought to have her under his
control like he did most of the kitchen staff and housekeeping here at
Golden Oaks. But Mr. Travis was only manager of the club. She reported
to Jerry Burns, the head golf pro and manager of the pro shop. Travis
didn't have anything to say to her, about how she did her job or what
she did on her free time.

It didn't keep him from watching her, waiting for an opportunity,
however. She was glad to quick-step down the stairs to her own oasis
at the country club. She was the new golf pro and Mr. Burns, Jerry, had
never shown the least inclination toward any inappropriate behavior.
She pushed open the door to the woman's lockers and felt safe.

Travis wouldn't dare follow her there. He would be hard pressed to
defend his presence on the lower level, let alone what he might be
doing invading the woman's lockers. The wives of members dressed there
and it would be worth his job to be even suspected of an involvement. 

Her thoughts turned briefly to Jerry Burns. She wondered if he was
under such an onus. The wives had affairs, certainly. Every so often
one would burst into public gossip and even more often there was
quieter gossip about who might be with whom, with the tacit consent of
her husband. Jerry would fit that description, Susan thought. He was
very discreet and handsome enough to satisfy even the snooty women who
were members. A husband, of a certain sort, might think he was
just the one to give his wife what he couldn't be bothered to provide.

But that was silly, she chastised herself. And if it wasn't, it was
still none of her business. She was glad enough to have a position at
Golden Oaks without questioning the man who stood up for her in front
of the Board. It was a good enough job on its own, tending the pro shop
and assisting Jerry, and there was the additional money that she could
earn giving lessons.

She went to her room at the end of the lockers to change. She had a
lesson scheduled and it was time to get into her shorts and polo shirt
uniform so she'd be ready.

She paused for a moment between the blouse and pleated pants she wore
in the pro shop and her other gear to look in the mirror. Well there,
she thought, no longer the long skinny girl from high school. The only
thing left from her years as the best golfer on the boy's team were the
long, smooth legs with the bellied calves that didn't need heels to
accentuate.

The hips were definitely broader and, she giggled, her ass certainly
wasn't flat anymore. But the biggest change was where the cupcakes that
barely strained a training bra had swelled into protuberant mounds that
tugged heavily on her three-hooker. They had taken some getting used
to. She remembered having to learn a whole new posture, not just from
the weight that might throw her back out of align, but because she
couldn't bend over innocently like she had without showing much more
of the creamy hills than she intended.

There were many things that came with her development, but the biggest
was that men stared at her now. It had taken some time for her to get
used to it. She had to come to terms with the fact there was nothing
she could do. They stuck right out there and there was no way to
disguise them. Men were going to stare. She had to get used to it and
learn to not give them more to see without realizing it.

Oh now, she was going to be late if she didn't hurry. She hustled into
her shorts and shirt and did one check to make sure nothing was hanging
out that wasn't supposed to. Her lesson was with Robert Lyle Lyle III,
the son of one of the richest men in town and he had asked for her
specifically.

It wasn't that odd, but Susan usually gave lessons to wives and
daughters and Jerry did the men. She suspected there was some sexual
motive, but she was 27 and Robert was 17. She was sure it was some
fascination with seeing her breasts swing when she took a stroke and
if it was more? She was certainly old enough to put a teenager in his
place.

"Ready, Mr. Lyle?" she asked as she met the young man at the edge of
the practice green. "We'll be hitting some balls on the range today,
if you'll come with me."

"There's nothing I'd like better than to come with you," he said.

There was a hint in his voice, but no more than that. He could dream,
couldn't he? Susan thought. And he was very politely keeping his
distance. She even saw the hint of a bow as he spoke. She thought no
more of it as she led him to the driving range.

She watched him hit. She moved from behind him to behind the ball to
facing him as he swung. She had to watch very carefully because it was
clear Mr. Lyle III was already accomplished. It wasn't going to be as
simple as shortening his backswing or giving him drills to make the
club head come through the ball on the intended path.

She asked him to adjust his stance and watched as he faded and drew the
ball. She was beginning to wonder what he thought to gain from lessons.
He had a tendency, only a tendency, to cheat his rotation on the
follow-through. That was all she could see after a large bucket of
balls lay spread out on the range.

"You're already quite good. What did you think I might teach you?" she
asked.

"There's always something to learn from a pro," he said, smiling.
"Perhaps you should memorize how I move so you can remind me if it
changes."

"But that's not how it goes," Miss Ames protested, "I give you some
things to work on and then we see how they work for you. I'm not
supposed to keep track of what you do well. That's... That's just a
waste of money."

He waved her off carelessly and she was reminded how little what he
paid her must matter to him. His smile was more predatory when he said,
"So, what would you like me to work on for you and when would you like
me to show you?"

"You don't rotate," she said sternly, grasping for something to dispel
the tension, "You need to follow through. All the time every time, not
just when you feel like it."

"Oh, I want to follow through," he said in the same evocative tone,
"What should I do so I can do it every time?"

"Pause after your swing," she said, trying to ignore the growing
innuendo. "see where you are and see if you have completed the swing.
Check your weight. Make sure it's on the right foot."

"My right foot?" he asked. He was toying with her now.

"You know which foot. The correct foot," she was getting upset with his
presumption. "And I would appreciate it if you stopped looking at me
that way."

He stopped short of asking how he was looking at her. They both knew.
The only time he took his eyes off her breasts was to look up and
speak. That he made such an evident shift only emphasized his interest.
He smiled and stopped looking. Susan was glad to escape into the
woman's lockers after the lesson.

Despite herself, she found that she had been sweating the entire time
she had been talking to Robert. She had to take a shower before she
could change her clothes. Of course she'd been upset, she told herself.
He had become more brash with every response. He was testing her and
she'd better set him straight before she gave him another lesson.

He didn't need lessons, she told herself as she stepped under the warm
spray. She would try and explain to Jerry. She didn't need to fend off
self-satisfied, smug rich kids. It was too disturbing. It brought back
too many memories.

Chapter 2 - That darn cat

It was innocent. At least Susan was. The back yard was fenced,
unpainted boards eight feet high. Her patio doors opened on her own
little garden in the middle of the cement and asphalt of the city.
There was an apple tree for shade. It was only relaxing at first. She
could sit in her own private park and be warmed by the sun as she read
or just napped.

But some of the girls were talking. Oh yes, the Riviera, we go there
every spring. I know this beach in Barbados, it's just so heavenly!
Susan knew better than to listen. She was a simple girl from a mid-
sized town and not one of their jet set. She was a girl making her way
through college on a golf scholarship and should know better.

But that somehow wasn't enough. Like the breasts that had blossomed in
her senior year of high school and born fruit as a freshman in college,
she felt she might transform. It was her bust that got her into the
clique in the first place. They had known she could attract the men
they were interested in and were, therefore, interested in keeping her
near.

That's all she was to them, bait for their traps, but she knew she
could be more. She was the one the boys wanted, wasn't she? And if 
they were nut brown all over, why couldn't she be? She had the perfect
place to get the same kind of tan as on the Riviera or Barbados. So
off came the top.

It was private and the sun felt so warm, so why bother with the
bottoms. It was easier to take off everything and put nothing on. No
one could see. Susan lay out naked with no other thought than the all-
over tan to make the twittering magpies jealous. It was working fine
when her neighbor, Mr. Grimsby knocked on her door.

She was fully dressed, but he made her feel more than naked in less
than five minutes. He had been thinking about it for a long time. He
had been watching at a crack in her fence for longer. She could only
imagine what other sick things he had been doing as he watched,
snapping pictures of her in her back yard.

"Of course it's innocent. What's more innocent than a girl playing with
her cat out in the sun?" he said with an oily assurance. "And naked?
The world's best art is of the nude female form. I quite agree. That's
why I'm so eager to share these pictures with the world."

But the problem was that not all of them seemed so innocent. Susan
wondered how long he had to crouch by his peep hole holding his breath
to take some of them. She knew that she was getting out of her chair,
but the picture showed her arching up, legs spread to his camera like
she was displaying herself. She was bending down to pick up a bookmark,
but her rear was pushed toward the camera, exposing her most private
flesh, and who could tell she didn't mean it?

Even the innocent pictures, like cuddling the kitty, showed far too
much of her breasts and seemed to emphasize the way they dwarfed the
kitten. There were so many. So many were caught at just the moment to
make her look brazen and, worse, willing. They were barely obscene,
since she never did anything like that, at least outside, but they were
bad enough she didn't want them circulated.

"What do you want?" she asked him straight out.

"Even you aren't that stupid," he said with a leer, "you know what I
want. You. All of you, willingly, or I will have to find someone else
to share my pictures with."

"You're insane! Not if you had pictures of me fucking a donkey!" Susan
exploded. "I'll never touch you. Never!"

"There's a big board outside the clubhouse isn't there," he began
teasingly. "And there's a big match with State U. I bet your teammates
and even more, your opposition, would get a kick out of this one."

She remembered. She was watering one of the hanging plants. Only the
photo had been reworked to remove the watering can and substitute a
golf club. If it hadn't been so devastating, she might have admired how
expertly it had been done. 

"I bet it'd be a hit on 'Golf Naked' Tee-shirts," he chuckled. "Think
it over. The match is Friday. Come knock on my door before then, or...
Maybe I'll have the shirts made up anyway. I bet I can make a mint.
Would you be willing to autograph them?"

She had a sinking feeling even as she slammed the door behind him. It
had risen up like a tidal wave over her when he showed her the picture.
She hardly thought about the rest- posted for her team to see, the
giggles and the talk. It had crashed down on her and washed away all
hope. Thinking it over only made her future seem darker.

Her scholarship would be in jeopardy. Even if Grimsby were arrested and
sent to jail forever, the damage would remain. She didn't doubt for a
moment all his pictures would flood the web as soon as he heard the
police knock on his door. Is she wasn't thrown off the team instantly,
the scandal would force them to make a gesture and she would be it.

Without college, she'd have to return home in shame. And shame would
surely follow her with all those pictures circling the world every
second, downloaded and passed on. Once they were released, there would
be no way of calling them all back. She could move away and hope no one
recognized her. She could go into hiding and live like a recluse.

Or she could give the slimy, disgusting pervert what he wanted and bury
the shame in a greater shame. She could rescue her innocence by
sacrificing it. The irony did not escape her. Nor did the fact that he
would never be satisfied. As long as he had the pictures, he owned her.
Unless she turned him in and took the shame and consequences.

She went back and forth until Friday. As the time crept nearer, she
knew she couldn't stand the ridicule, the fingers pointing. The only
good thing, the only good thing, about appeasing Grimsby was that it
would be secret. He would have as much incentive as she. If she had
shame and disgrace hanging over her head, he had prison over his.

"Now what will I do with all these shirts?" Grimsby greeted her knock
at his door with a taunt.

There were no shirts. He had been confident of his plan. Susan wondered
if it had all been a bluff, if she was sacrificing her self-respect for
a threat he would never carry out. Grimsby didn't give her time to
think about that.

"Strip there," he told her as she stood on his doorstep.

"Let me in," she made an attempt to push past him, but he blocked her.

"No nonsense. You will do as I say. You've thought it over. A day
longer than I thought, I might say, and you know you will. Now strip to
the skin right where you stand," he said firmly. "You may give me your
clothes as you take them off."

His words beat against her ears like cudgels. He was right. It was too
late to go back now. She had to. She had  another reason. She sensed
he would make it worse if she didn't. She pulled her shirt over her
head without unbuttoning it and threw it at him. She kicked her shoes
inside. She hadn't worn much, knowing what he intended. She pushed
shorts and panties down in one ball as she shot a nervous look right
and left. As far as she could see, no one was watching, but she'd
already learned how prying eyes could watch from out of sight. She
pulled off her bra, over her head like her shirt and handed it to him.
In a foolishly proud moment she stood there as her breasts swung and
waited for him to step aside.

"Come in," he said after a moment that seemed minutes, when her breasts
finally settled, "Welcome to my humble abode."

He swept his arm toward the interior with a mocking bow. His other hand
threw her bra on top of the pile of her clothes in the corner of the
entryway. She stepped in and breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the
door behind her. It was followed by a sharp intake of breath when she
remembered her ordeal was just beginning.

The only thing different was his furniture. The row of townhouses were
identical inside from the green shag carpet to the floor plan. She
turned from her quick survey to see he was staring at her. Once he
caught her eye, he let his eyes travel down and back up her naked body
before speaking.

"I've been considering a penalty for delaying so long," he said, and
paused for her reaction, "But that's not for today. You have a golf
match, I understand. We wouldn't want you to falter on the course,
would we- or be late."

She had resigned herself to his continued lust. What reason would he
have to be honorable? She merely noted the emphasis on getting to the
match on time. She assumed it meant she should obey without delay so
he would let her go.

"Yes sir," she said humbly, "I know I have to do what you want. What do
you want me to do?"

"Excellent," he said without answering. "Please come with me."

It was one more thing to deal with. In her ruminations on her options,
Susan had settled on submitting, but not yielding entirely. She would
do whatever disgusting things he required of her, but her secret quest
was to find the pictures, all the evidence he had and end his control.
As he led her to his couch, she knew there was a camera somewhere in
the room, recording new evidence. It would have to be added to her list
of things to destroy.

"Make yourself comfortable," he said, pointing to the floor.

Susan sat on one hip, her legs drawn up under her. He stood over her
and opened his pants. He pulled them down past his knees and sat on the
couch. His cock was standing up in his lap.

"Oh, you know what to do," he said dismissively. "Do it and I'll tell
you if there's something else."

Suck my cock. He could have said it, but it seemed to amuse him to make
her do it on her own. She had no choice. She came up onto her knees and
bent over him, letting his cock go into her mouth. She gripped it about
the base and moved her lips up and down his shaft. Just suck, she told
herself, a cock's a cock, just suck it and don't think.

"Well, that's very nice," he said after a minute, "Once you understand
the situation, you seem to adapt well. That's better for both of us.
It's less bother for me and, I assure you, going to make it much easier
for you."

It was as far from easy as Susan could imagine. He wasn't even letting
her forget who he was and just do what he required. He was rubbing her
face in it every moment. And in the back of her mind she was thinking
about the image being recorded on tape of her bobbing up and down with
his cock in her mouth. It was all she could do not to vomit.

"Now careful, careful," he cautioned her, "Take it out and lick it.
Lick up and down and around the head. This is too nice to rush."

She looked up at him as he tongue traveled over his shaft. He was
grinning happily at her. She realized what kind of subservient thing
she must seem to him. Her brows drew down, but she didn't dare stop
licking his cock.

"Oh, that's very good. You must have done this sort of thing before,"
he taunted her. "But that's enough for now. Get up and put your hands
on the back of the couch."

It told her one thing, besides that he was going to take her from
behind. It said the camera was somewhere on the far wall by his
television. He was keeping her in range so he could watch himself fuck
her at his leisure.

Then she was glad she licked his cock. He was rude and rough as he
thrust into her. It was only her saliva that made it near bearable. He
wasn't drawing it out. That was something. And then she felt his finger
rubbing around her anus. Despite herself, she gasped.

"Oh! Sensitive, eh?" he chortled, "You must like it. Or is it that you
don't? Oh, don't tell me. I'll be able to tell when I fuck you there."

She gritted her teeth. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of
begging or protesting or even telling him  what a twisted pervert he
was. She was understanding how he fed on it. She wasn't going to make
it any better for him than she could help. She had no options, but
denying him a reaction was still within her ability.

The finger he pushed in her rectum was more disgusting that his cock
thrusting into her. She concentrated on not reacting, but she couldn't
help a wiggle here or a flinch there as he pumped it in and out and
twisted it back and forth in her anus. She barely noticed him fucking
her. That would be a mercy but for the way his invading finger swelled
up to drive everything out of her mind but what he was doing to her
anus.

He reminded her of her real purpose shortly before he came. He took the
finger out and she was again aware that he was driving his cock in her.
He slapped hard on her raised rear and she felt her breasts swing
wildly as he fucked her. She closed her eyes tight and just endured it.
When he finally came, she had to fight her urge to slump to the couch
and curl up. She stayed with her hands on the back of the couch arched
up in defiance even when he pulled his cock from here and sat down
beside her.

"Why don't you go home?" he asked and waited for her to look in
disbelief. "You already know we're far from finished, and I want you
to have plenty of time to recover for your match. I'll knock on the
wall when I require you again."

There was only one more hitch. 

"No, no," he said as she went for her clothes, "Go home as you are. I
took your keys out of the shorts."

He threw them to her, "You have two options I can see. Scamper quickly
out my door and unlock your door or over the garden fence. I confess
I'd rather see your ass tipping over the fence, but it is entirely up
to you."

She opted for the dash to her door. There, again, seemed to be nobody
about, and she was not going to give him the satisfaction. The worst
that could happen was that she'd be kicked out without his help and
he'd be robbed of his leverage. As she slammed her door behind herself,
it seemed almost a fair trade.

Chapter 3 - Keeping the Rich Men Happy

"Did he make any advances?" Jerry asked Susan, "Did he touch you or
proposition you?"

"He was too clever for that, but he knew what he was doing," Susan was
troubled by Jerry's attitude. He had always  been so supportive, but it
sounded like he was taking Robert Lyle Lyle III's side.

"But that's the thing about being clever," Jerry said patiently, "We
can't do anything until he makes improper overtures. He'll say it was
all innocent and then what can you say? You had a feeling? They'll say
you're too sensitive and I'll have to find a new assistant. I don't
want that. You're perfect and I don't want to find another. Can't you
see that?"

It did make sense the way he said it, but Susan didn't see why Jerry
couldn't take over the lessons. That was the solution. She'd make it
up to him when someone's wife tried the same thing with him. It seemed
like a perfect solution, but Jerry said Robert wanted her and they had
to have a reason to make the switch.

"You don't really want to watch me hit more balls do you?" Robert said
when they met for the next lesson.

"That's how I conduct lessons," Miss Ames said firmly. "If you don't
want one, I'll understand."

"This Plan B, after trying to foist me off on Churn 'em and Burn 'em
Burns?" Robert asked smugly.

"What do you mean?" Susan asked.

"You think I don't find out everything that goes on at the place,"
Robert sneered.

"No, I mean about Jer... Mr. Burns," Susan asked.

"Sweet on him?" Robert heard the shift, "You're not his type. Not
married enough. I guess you haven't been around long enough. You know
Burns has been a co-respondent in half- more than half- the divorces
at the club?"

"But churn them and burn them? What do you mean by that?" Susan asked.

"Somehow, when a wife gets around to Burns they have the bad luck to
get caught," Robert smirked. "Because he tips off the husband. Knows
who's going to have the money. Knows where his interest lies. Smart
man. You could learn a thing or two from him."

Susan shrugged off his remark. "Couldn't it be what you said- bad luck?
And why do the wives keep going to him if they know this?" Susan asked.

"Mrs. Delany was fucking the pool boy for three years without Mr.
Delany getting anything on her, but one night with Burns and- burned!"
Robert grinned, "As for the others- some guys are glad to get the old
bags off their backs- so they can tend to sweet young things
themselves. He doesn't turn them all in, and not every husband wants a
divorce. As for the rest... I don't know. Maybe he's got a big dick."

Susan felt her face burning. She just realized what intimate topics she
was discussing with a teenager. She tried to remember it was not her
business what Jerry did. She also had to turn the topic back to proper
matters.

"You still need to hit some balls if you want a lesson," she said.

"What if I learn by watching," Robert suggested. "You hit the balls.
I'll watch."

She knew what he wanted. It wasn't just simpler to give in. She hoped
going along would make him bold enough to do something that would allow
her to stop the lessons. Jerry had said she had to have a reason. She
hoped she could make Robert give her that reason.

The only impression she was trying to make was with her tits. She was
routinely coming from inside out, heeling and toeing shots to give her
breasts room to swing. Robert was watching her, but he wasn't as intent
on her chest as she assumed. His devious mind was working out a plan.

Obviously, she was hired because of her boobs, he thought. She wasn't
shit as a golfer. He wondered if she blew the instructor to get her
certification as a pro. He was working on a way to use that on her.
Unfortunately, she probably knew her limitations, getting her to take
the challenge was the tricky part.

"You know," Robert interrupted Susan in her backswing, "I think the
best way to learn is to play. You said there isn't much wrong with my
swing. Maybe you can help me with course management."

Susan grounded her club and looked at him. He couldn't possibly be
thinking of getting her alone and overpowering her. He was a bit
bigger, but he'd be forgetting she had a bag of clubs with her. She
didn't know what he was plotting, but going along was the only way to
find out. She'd learned that the hard way.

Chapter 4 - Grimly Going On

She wasn't waiting for it. She was dreading the time when the knock
would come. She knew whatever Grimsby had planned would be far more
disturbing than she could imagine. He would be spending his time making
sure of it. She had felt that in the first encounter.

He seemed to take more pleasure in her shame than in the sex itself. He
liked to see her grovel. That was where the excitement was for him. She
would be humiliated until she begged for him to shame her more. He
needed to feel the control.

Then she'd let him control her. She'd bow to him. She'd do what he
wanted and beg him for more. She'd be his submissive slut. And when he
believed she was his creature, she'd find what she needed and turn it
all on him. It wasn't going to be nice, but it was what she had to do.

"I see you anticipated," he said after she dropped over the wall
between their back yards. "You learn quickly."

"Yes sir," she said, thinking calling him master too much of a tip off.
"I know I must do what you wish. Command me."

"Good. Go take the position you were in before I sent you home," he
said eagerly.

She felt a horrible freedom surrendering to his order. It was as if she
was watching herself from afar. There was a relief from her need to
resist, now that she had a reason. She bent forward and put her hands
on the rear of the couch. She no longer looked for the recording
device. According to her plan, she would have plenty of time to find it
when Grimsby trusted her.

She took deep breaths to calm herself as she waited. She tried not to
guess what Grimsby intended. She would find out soon enough. She was
in no hurry to find out.

"What a delicious ass," he said as he ran his hand over it. "It feels
even better than I imagined as I watched it for so long."

He put his finger to her anus again and she couldn't stop her flinch.
She heard him chuckle. She tried to breathe deep, but something was
squeezing her chest. She tried to make her mind blank, but she knew
what he wanted now. She couldn't keep her mind from it.

"Ah yes, we did find out you liked that, didn't we?" he asked.

She didn't think he wanted a response. She tried to think of something,
anything else.

"Didn't we?" he asked louder, pushing the finger into her anus.

"No sir," she said. "You said you'd know when you... when you fucked
it."

She didn't need to pretend her fear. She knew he was going to make it
horrible, whatever it took. And it seemed to  make him happy. It was
the plan. It was...

He was twisting the finger. She went back to trying to breathe. He
finally tired of his sport and removed the finger. He replaced it a
moment later and she felt the slippery substance being spread over the
area. He pushed more of it inside the muscled ring. Susan tried to
quell her grunts of discomfort as he invaded her rectum.

"Now you're waiting expectantly, I can tell," he said lightly, "I'll
start whenever you're ready."

"I'm ready. Please start now," Susan said, finding it easier than she
thought to ask for her own humiliation.

"Oh good girl," Grimsby said happily as she felt his cock press against
her anus.

Her hands tightened on the couch, but she arched her back and tried to
open as the head of his cock forced the crinkled star to spread open.
This time not fighting was the best approach in every sense. He was
intent on pushing his cock into her ass and she'd only suffer for
fighting it. She thought of nothing but opening for the invasion.

"You do like it," Grimsby seemed impressed. "Then I've got something
nice for you."

"Yes, please," Susan found it harder to ask for it with his cock in her
ass, but she forced the words out, "Give me what you have."

It is hard to imagine that Grimsby could have enjoyed fulfilling her
request any more. He surged and drove the rest of the way into her,
until he was hard against her bottom. Then he proceeded to stab into
her with all the gusto he could summon. Susan gripped the couch until
her knuckles were white and willed herself not to move.

The only mercy was that he couldn't keep up his gleeful ravage for
long. His joy at fucking her ass brought him to a quick climax,
although nowhere near quick enough for Susan. She endured it because it
was so horrible that it filled her whole perception and she couldn't
think of anything she could do.

"Now that was a start," Grimsby gasped as he pulled his cock from her
ass and collapsed onto the couch.

As horrible as it was, it was a good start. Nothing after it could be
worse.

"Sit there," Grimsby said, pointing to the coffee table in front of
him. "Play with yourself. I want to watch."

Susan was glad to feel the air of contempt for his weak command. It
wasn't something she would do willingly in other circumstances, but
compared to what she expected him to demand, it was mild. She sat on
the table, spread her legs and put her hand to her sex.

"That's it," he encouraged, "Get off good now."

It was as if he didn't exist. He certainly didn't count. Susan felt no
impediment from his presence. Her fingers found the spots and probed.
She let herself feel the pleasure. He'd been a background ghost so long
that it was not hard to push him back into the background again.

She began to moan as her legs opened wider and her fingers moved
faster. She added the second hand, fingers sliding into the wet slit
and pumping as her hand rubbed lips and clit. She could feel it
building. She took a deep breath and let it break over her like surf.

When she opened her eyes and looked at him, Grimsby was staring back.
He seemed vaguely troubled. Susan stopped herself from smiling and
looked down. She was sure he wanted to see shame.

"Now turn around and bend over the table and do it again," he ordered.

It was even easier looking away. Her brief thought about the camera was
only how she was going to steal the image he thought he was capturing
of her face in rapture. It might have given her more freedom to open
her mouth with lust and pant with the sensation her fingers brought as
she reached between her legs to diddle herself.

She felt the need more quickly and added her second hand. She was still
aroused from the first time. She let her breasts squash on the table as
she rested on them and put both hands between her legs. She rocked on
the tingling pillows as she traded hands shamelessly, getting the
fingers of both hands coated with her nectar.

She spread her legs to make a wider base as her passion mounted. She
felt the need to steady herself. That it made her gape wider for his
inspection was an added stimulation rather than a stumbling block. Her
ass moved as if her fingers were a lover, lifting and dropping as she
fucked herself on her fingers and rubbed purposefully.

She lifted her head and groaned as she came. She was bent like a bow
and felt like her orgasm was an arrow being sent, conversely, into her
rather than away. She trembled with the force. She knew he could see
her shake as the climax took her. She stayed in place in the afterglow,
still idly stroking herself with her fingers inside, but no longer
moving.

"Now take your hands away, but stay where you are," he said sternly.

Susan expected to feel him get behind her and take her. She put her
hands on the table and waited as she was told. She waited longer. He
did not thrust into her.

"Now get up and face me," he said.

She couldn't tell if he had been masturbating or not, but he was red-
faced and breathing quickly. His cock was standing up, if not as hard
as she had seen it before. She tried to keep her eyes on his face and
an expression of anything but the satisfaction she felt on her face. It
was important he think she was upset.

"Get on your knees," he said after looking into her face for a moment.

She couldn't read his reaction to what he saw there. She knelt with
relief at not having to maintain a cowed expression. She knew what he
wanted. There was only one thing men wanted and being on her knees only
confirmed it. He got up and pushed his cock in her face as she
expected. She didn't wait for him to tell her. She took it in her
mouth.

"There's a good little slut," he said with an air of surprise, "You
really like that, eh? I think this is going to be better than
I ever imagined."

He didn't need much sucking to come fully erect. He had done the
largest part, or watching her had done it for him. She cupped his balls
as much as a point of reference how far to move her face as stimulation
and kept sucking up and down on his cock. He'd tell her what he wanted
or she'd just suck him until he came.

She didn't think that was what he wanted and he proved her right in
another minute. He grabbed her hair to stop her head from bobbing on
his prick and held her there. She braced for him to pull her up by the
hair, but he preferred to make her do everything for herself.

"Get up," he said, "I think it's time to put that tan to good use."

She wondered if he had set up another camera or if this was purely for
the pleasure of fucking her out where he had first seen her naked as he
led her into the back yard. His was enclosed just as hers was, but
Susan let the kiss of the sun remind her she was out-of-doors. He had
no garden, only a bench and a stool. He led her to the bench and
motioned for her to lie down.

Her legs fell off both sides, bent at the knees, feet on the ground.
She was open for him as he lifted her knees when he came close. He
inched to her, releasing one leg to push his cock down to enter her as
he slid up to her. He picked up her leg again and held them like
handles as he rocked on his butt to send his cock in and out.

"You can make all the noise you want," he said in a low growl, "I'm
sure the neighbors will like to hear your song. You don't mind if they
watch, do you? You didn't mind when I did."

He was plucking an uncomfortable string. Susan tried to fight the
resentment she felt, tried to bury it in her sense of purpose, but he
was reminding her why she was naked and being fucked. The same sun that
had made her feel warm and naughty was now reminding her how she had
been trapped and forced to submit to this disgusting beast.

She tried to keep her face neutral, but that seemed to excite him.
Perhaps she was imagining that, but she wasn't imagining the excited
way he was pumping his cock into her. He was turned on by the memory as
much as she was disgusted. She tried to soothe herself that it meant
he'd be sooner finished.

He was too careful for that. She saw the look of concentration as he
stopped. She could feel the tremble of the urge to keep fucking her,
but he mastered it and got up. He took several deep breaths as he
looked at her sprawled on the bench.

"Don't look so sad," he chastised her gently, although she was sure
that wasn't the look on her face, "I'm going to give you more. I'm just
going to find a better way to give you what you want so badly."

"Thank you, sir. You are so good to me," she said, not sure where the
impulse came from.

The words were out before she could think and gone before she could
call them back. She felt a chill go through her at what she might have
done to her plan. She saw his face brighten and suspected she had
strengthened her position and not weakened it.

"I will be, yes, I will be," Grimsby said cautiously and she could see
him think. "Get up while I decide what to do with you."

There weren't many options in his poorly appointed backyard. Unless he
wanted her down in the dirt, there was the  bench and the stool. He
settled on the stool and crooked his finger at her.

"Sit here," he instructed, "I will give you the chance to satisfy me.
That's nice of me, no?"

She nodded carefully, not knowing whether to show enthusiasm or regret.
She was no longer sure if she was supposed to like it or not. Her first
instinct had been that he enjoyed her shame, but now she wondered if he
didn't enjoy her acceptance more. She straddled him and squatted
carefully.

She quickly saw the awkwardness of the seat he'd chosen. It was too low
to lower herself gracefully. Her thighs already protested as she
reached down to set him in the proper place. She couldn't lower herself
onto him, her legs wouldn't hold her weight any farther down. He was
grinning as she trembled, although she thought it was just for the
effort it took her. He grabbed her ass to steady her as she gave up and
dropped down onto his cock.

Once there, she could move, but the sudden drop had driven his cock
precipitously into her and she had to pause a moment. It felt as if it
had driven the breath from her. That was a flight of imagination, but
she was no less impeded by the shock. He took the opportunity to dig
his fingers into her ass and move her on his prick.

She was supposed to do this. The sooner he trusted her, the sooner it
was over. She put her hands on his shoulders for leverage and moved on
his cock. She saw him look up at her out of slitted eyes and moved
toward him. Men like tits crossed her mind. She pressed hers into his
face and he began to suck happily.

She feared he would be forever enjoying her struggle to lift and drop
on his cock, but she forgot his earlier exertions. She had only begun
to feel the burn in her thighs when his hands clamped on her waist and
pulled her down hard on his cock. She moved her hips rapidly as she
felt the commotion inside her that announced his ejaculation. She
wanted to drain him completely. It would make his recovery longer if he
didn't decide to call it a day.

"Now sit right there," he said as if she was going to move, "I want to
stay inside you as long as I can."

It was not the best of possible worlds, but it was better than him
thinking of other ways to humiliate her. It was even relatively
comfortable to sit without needing to move. It was restful after the
exertion and she might have looked a bit contented. She hadn't meant
it, but it worked in her favor.

Chapter 5 - Bet Your Ass

Jerry had a self-satisfied half smile as he listened to the accusations
Robert had made. Susan knew Robert had been telling the truth from that
look alone. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

It certainly changed her opinion of Jerry, but she wasn't sure what
difference it made. She'd never been attracted to him or, it seemed,
him to her. Yes, it tarnished the image she had of him, but it was none
of her business. He had still hired her and stood up for her. It only
changed the way she looked at him, nothing else.

"I've never been with a woman that didn't want me," Jerry said in his
defense. "And I've never made an advance to a married woman in my
life."

She supposed it did make some difference from which direction the
attention came, but she didn't see it. It was still none of her
business, she had mentioned it in her on-going attempt to rid herself
of Robert Lyle Lyle III. She hoped it might make Jerry come over to
her side and try harder to find a reason to keep her away from Robert.

"They have a family tee time," Jerry, said, looking at his reservation
sheet. "Every Thursday at 4:24. If he wants you to play with him, he's
got a time to do it."

Jerry looked contrite after he said 'play with him'. He tried to rescue
the awkward wording with a smile and a quip. "But remember gambling is
strictly prohibited at Golden Oaks, so don't let me see money changing
hands," he said with the same kind of professed ignorance with which he
seduced member's wives.

She hadn't thought of gambling, but it was Robert's main purpose. He
just didn't want to make money the wager.

"Don't you think we should play for something? Make it interesting?"
Robert purred as they loosened up on the first tee.

The group of women they were following had hit about 160 yards down the
fairway and there would be a wait before  they could hit. Susan
regarded him carefully. He was a good golfer. She was sure he had been
doing his best at the first lesson and she estimated he was about a 6
handicap.

She'd been a 6 at 16. By the time she was 18, she was a 2. She might
have been at even par, but she was still learning how to deal with her
new tits at the time. At Golden Oaks, she was consistently -1. She'd
come in at 65 on the par 71 on her best day against Jerry. The kid was
a fish waiting to be hooked. She played cautious, however, like any
good shark.

"Do I hit from the woman's tees?" Susan asked.

Robert scoffed. "You're a pro. We hit from the same tees, your
choice," he countered.

"What are the stakes?" Susan asked, knowing it was tacit consent.

"See, that's the problem," Robert went into his carefully rehearsed act
of spontaneously arriving at the answer, "If it was enough to interest
me, I'm guessing it would be too much for you. Enough for you would be
small change for me. I think we need to think of something other than
money."

Susan saw it then. He was a sophisticated little spoiled pervert. He
was threatening to actually make it interesting. His chances were still
nearly moot, but if, by some chance or miracle, if he could win, then
it might be interesting.

"What do you suggest," Susan said, purposefully dense, "I do your
schoolwork against you working in the pro shop?"

Robert chuckled. "You know better than that. Strip golf. Match play.
Lose a hole, take something off. Win it back or choose to have your
opponent strip. After 18, we walk back to the clubhouse however we are
dressed- or undressed after the match."

It was tamer than she thought. Given Robert's advanced lusts, she
expected him to demand a sex act a hole. Finish three down and owe two
blow-jobs and a fuck. She still had to consider. There was a chance
she'd have to play a hole without her shirt, no matter how much better
she was. Was it worth the risk?

"What about the dress code?" she asked.

Robert laughed. "First of all, who enforces it? The pros. Are you going
to throw yourself off the course for playing with your tits out? And
second, who do you think is going to complain about the founder's kid?
Who's going to cross my dad because I'm a delinquent?"

It was the first time he'd shoved it in her face, but Susan had felt
the pressure. It was why Jerry was no help, certainly. She could thank
her lucky stars and sexual harassment suits that Robert hadn't just
demanded she fuck him to keep her job in the first place. Rather than
make her wary, it pissed her off.

"Then I guess I have no option," Susan said. "I'll play by your rules."

"Everyone does," Robert said happily.

If there was a chance for a loving description of Susan's tits swaying
back in her backswing or leaping forward and then settling back with a
jiggle in her follow-through, or even in a bra, you'd have it, but
there wasn't even a moment of risk. From the first time she knocked her
ball 210 yards into the prime angle for her second shot, and Robert
yanked his right in over-eagerness, it was her day. On in two, down in
three, Robert having just chipped to 20 feet on his third shot,
she was ahead from the start.

Robert grudgingly took off his shirt, but began to see his error. There
was still a hope, owing to the trap door he had left in the rules. All
he had to do was win a hole and he could demand she take something off,
but the attraction of that faded as he saw he couldn't compete.
Firstly, she had more on, by a bra, than he did. 

Secondly, four more losses and he would be naked- unless he won a hole
and she took back something, but, after tying the second hole because
her putt lipped out, there were still 16 to play and he knew in his
heart he would be naked by the end of the front nine.

"You cheated," he accused her after her drive was again long and
perfectly placed. "You pretended you sucked to get me to bet you."

"Isn't that how it's done?" she asked sweetly, "And you set the
stakes."

"But you cheated and I'm calling it off!" he said loudly. "You're
trying to humiliate me. You see what happens to you when I tell my
father."

"And you didn't even bother to ask me my handicap," she said. "I would
have told you. I average 70 here. You were the one that thought you'd
win. Tell your father. I bet he'll have a good laugh at that."

She felt as bold as she sounded. Mr. Lyle II might be a protective
father, but she couldn't imagine he wouldn't see the humor in his son
being taken in so easily. It was more likely he'd be enraged with
Robert for being a fool than for her taking advantage of it. Especially
at golf. Golf was like life for the rich old farts at a country club.
Robert not seeing the danger was like not moving funds off-shore. It
was a stupidity the rich couldn't tolerate.

"I'm not even going to play!" Robert was having a tantrum now. 

Susan felt even more assured. Being spoiled by wrapping his Jaguar
around a tree was one thing, but walking off a golf course? She was
confident she'd have no trouble with Robert Lyle Lyle II over this.

Chapter 6 - Prime and Moneyishment

It was no trouble for Robert Lyle Lyle II. Most of his tasks were far
more onerous than to call Miss Ames into his office at Golden Oaks. He
set his face sternly as he called her in. Best to set the right tone,
he thought.

Susan was trying to convince herself there was nothing to worry about.
At worst, he wanted an explanation of whatever crude lie his son had
concocted about her. She had embarrassed Robert III, but he deserved
it. His father had to see that.

"Ahh, Miss Ames. You haven't been with us long. I haven't had a chance
to meet you," he said, glancing up from some papers she took to be her
file. "Pity it couldn't be in more pleasant circumstances."

He gave her a brief, insincere smile and his face set again. Susan felt
prickles crawl over her skin. She didn't like the sound of that.

"Hello, Mr. Lyle," Susan said dutifully, "What is it you wanted to see
me about?"

"I think you know," he said sternly. "I had to investigate some things
my son said about you."

Susan braced herself for whatever lies Robert III had told. She
couldn't let herself believe he had told the truth. Mr. Lyle
II was too imposing to know the real story.

"I see they're all true," he said, pushing himself back and sitting up
straight in his chair. He let the worry pass over her face before he
tired of the game and said, smiling, "You are as womanly as he said and
he cheated you of your beauty."

"I see, sir, thank you sir," Susan babbled, "Is that what you wanted to
see me about?"

"No, no, of course not, we need to talk about my son," Mr. Lyle II
said. "I understand he's been trying his usual games with you?"

"I don't know, sir," Susan began, "He has been overly friendly and I
think he has less than honorable intentions."

"Let's cut the crap, shall we?" Mr. Lyle II invited. "He wants to fuck
you and he's been trying every way his juvenile mind can think of to
get in your panties. Isn't that it? Didn't he try to get you into a
game of strip golf?"

"Well, yes sir," Susan said, it being obvious that he knew all about
it. "But I didn't think there was much danger in that."

She was surprised by her honesty, but Mr. Lyle II laughed heartily. "So
I heard," he said, "Thinks he's quite the golfer, my son. Thinks he's
quite the ladies man too and is just as mistaken."

Susan looked at him questioningly. She wasn't sure why he was sharing
this with her. He was acting like she was an old friend, a confidant.
It was very different from his frosty demeanor when she arrived.

"Doesn't know how many people let him win because he's my son," he
said, seeming to feel her look was a prompt for him to explain, "And he
doesn't know, or chooses to ignore, how many of his 'girlfriends' I've
had to pay off because what they were looking for was a quick pay day
and weren't really interested in him."

This was moving into the kind of knowledge Susan had no use for and
didn't want to know. She caught herself. Did he think she was looking
for a pay day?

"I was just giving him golf lessons," she said quickly. "He asked for
me specifically."

"No, no, no, I didn't mean to imply you were one of those floozies," he
said appeasingly. "I'm just trying to let you know I understand how Rob
can be. And of course he asked for you. Look at you. You're just the
kind of woman he'd think he was worthy of. Inflated ego- but I guess
I'm to blame. Coddled him ever since his mother went up there."

He pointed up and Susan nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss," she
parroted.

"Oh no," he laughed and Susan was puzzled again, "She's not dead. She
left us. She moved to the Northern Territories. Wanted to live in an
igloo with a Inuit. Good riddance. But I did spoil the boy and now I'm
having a hard time taking it back. Hard to undo, you know."

Susan nodded sympathetically, but had no idea. She was still trying to
see where she fit in this. She was glad her job didn't seem to be in
jeopardy, but she felt there was something Mr. Lyle II had yet to say.
That he was taking so long was making her nervous.

"That's where you come in," he said, as if reading her concern. "I
think you're the real deal. I mean, I do think that, but my point is
that junior thinks it too. I don't think you're flavor of the week to
him. That's saying something. I think that his... attachment to you,
whatever it is, could be useful in opening up his eyes."

Susan knit her brows. It sounded like she was a carrot on the stick.
She wondered what the carrot was supposed to do when 'junior' fell
into line.

"Don't decide until you hear me out," he cautioned. "I don't mean for
you to do anything you don't want to. I don't even mean to tell you
what to do. What I'm trying to say is: I think we can work out some way
to help Rob grow up a little. I'm just proposing that we join forces."

"I don't see my part in this," Susan said honestly. "So far all I've
been doing is putting him off."

"What you say has merit," he granted. "It is my problem, but I'd
appreciate your help. I won't offend you by offering you money, I'll
just ask as a favor, but I will be grateful and compensation could be
an unavoidable side-effect. I'm just asking that you work with me,
perhaps offer an idea or two how we can put this spoiled brat back on
track."

"I have to admit I have no idea," Susan said, "But I do see your
problem."

"Then you'll work with me?" he asked eagerly. "That's all I'm asking.
I see a unique opportunity. You're something Rob really wants. There
aren't many things in that category. That's why I need you. Will you
give it a try?"

What could she say? If she was honest with herself, she wasn't sure she
wouldn't have knelt down and sucked him off if it meant keeping her
job. This was much better. She felt like they were partners. And it
pleased her to think what he might sanction to teach Rob a lesson.

"All right," Susan said. "But I warn you, I don't know much about the
idle rich or how to fix them."

For a moment she thought she'd overstepped herself. Then he smiled.

"Keep that attitude," he advised. "It might come in handy. Lord knows
I can't pull it off. It might be our best weapon against Rob's feeling
of entitlement."

Jerry was waiting for her when she returned from the meeting. He looked
relieved that she wasn't crying.

"So I don't have to find another assistant?" he asked lightly.

"Did you think he was going to fire me?" Susan asked, surprised that
Jerry wouldn't know. She was reforming her opinion of what Jerry's
place was at the club. She was beginning to suspect he didn't have the
clout she thought.

"You know, big man, big office, and his kid has been bragging how he's
going to get you fired," Jerry said.

That was a good reason to think all the harder how Mr. Robert Lyle Lyle
III could be brought into line. It seemed he had declared war on her.
It was time to declare war right back. And it was just the kind of war
she wanted to fight, she had all the weapons on her side, including
the ones Rob thought were his.

Chapter 7 - Bang a Gong

There was trust all right. Grimsby trusted her to strut naked in his
yard and hers. He trusted her to crawl on all fours like a dog when he
led her on a leash. He trusted her to bend over and take it in
whichever orifice he chose. He trusted her to dance to arouse him and
suck his cock when that didn't work.

Susan was beginning to see the fallacy in her plan. What was the point
of leaving her alone in his house? He wanted to fuck her. He couldn't
do that if he wasn't there. There was nothing he wanted from her that
he didn't have to be present for. And she lived next door. It was too
convenient to send her home even if he was going away for five minutes.
He enjoyed having her run back and forth naked.

She was beginning to investigate ways she could slip him a Mickey and
search while he was knocked out. Her own stupid plan didn't seem to be
working. She had humiliated herself for the sake of grand plans that
wouldn't work.

That loomed larger on the day he summoned her and she found he was with
friends.

"This is Rory and..." Grimsby started to introduce them.

"John," Dennis interrupted, "But you can call me god."

"Oh god! Fuck me, god! Yes, god, harder," he squeaked in a high,
mocking voice and the others laughed.

Grimsby was a bit drunk and Susan wished she'd brought drugs. She was
livid at this change in the normal humiliation, but undecided if she
should, or could, change her demeanor after so many months. Grimsby
might think she was playing if she protested and even more likely
wouldn't care.

"Dance wench!" Grimsby commanded.

She felt the shame crawl over her like bugs. She had long since
resigned herself to Grimsby looking, and there wasn't anything he
hadn't seen in any case. But these two were new. They were drooling
over her for the first time and she didn't want to think what evil
things were in their heads.

It really did feel like their very gaze was creeping over her skin like
a palpable touch. She could feel the bumps spring up where they were
staring. It disgusted her. It sickened her. It excited her.

"Now if you gentlemen, gods, don't mind, I'm going to fuck her,"
Grimsby announced. "You may watch."

"Now you, umm..." Grimsby paused because the others were on the couch
where he usually bent her.

He came unsteadily to lead her around the coffee table, but one of the
others shouted out his own idea,

"Bend her over to face us, Scotty," he said, "I want to watch them tits
swing."

She may have given him a resentful look before she tried to put the
look of bland acceptance back on her face. It was different being seen
from all angles. She bent over to put her hands on the table and she
felt Grimsby behind her.

She hated it. It was horrible. It was the heat of anger that rose in
her and burned her to the tips of her ears. It was irrelevant that
Grimsby slid easily into her. She was distracted by her pique. She
wasn't wet. Every thrust that made her breasts swing for the ogling of
her audience was torment.

She didn't like being the display. That much was right. There was no
pride in how her swinging breasts aroused the others. That was also
true. She felt shameful and dirty right down to her core. It made her
insides squirm to be in such a depraved situation.

But the nasty truth was that she was wet. There was no mistaking her
disgust, nor that it was arousing her. She was the lowest slut whore
cunt that ever was- and her body responded. She tried to deny it to
herself, not to think about it. She didn't want it to be true. But it
was.

Grimsby had finally dragged her so low that she was reveling in the
abuse. But that wasn't it either. She sincerely wanted to escape. She
didn't want to be subjected to this, but it was just as true she was
aroused. She couldn't bring the two truths together. Her head spun when
she tried.

Grimsby came in her and there was a minute before Dennis stood up and
opened his pants.

"Suck me off, whore!" he said dismissively.

Susan was too afraid of her thoughts to think. They were more
disturbing that reaching for his cock and putting it in her mouth. She
felt herself cross some invisible line, but she was ignoring it as hard
as she was trying not to think about the confusion swirling inside her.

The other didn't get up. He sat and watched as she sucked cock. Grimsby
came around to plop down beside him where Dennis had been sitting. They
watched as she mechanically went about moving up and back on the cock
in her face.

Dennis grabbed her head at the end and fucked her face. She put her
hands on his thighs to brace herself. She didn't try to hold him off
because she feared that would only make him thrust deeper. She endured
the head of his cock ramming into the back of her mouth, only waiting
for it to end. 

He didn't let her escape as he came in her mouth. She was trapped as
the burning cum filled her mouth and spattered into her throat, making
her cough and choke. The other two were much amused by her trouble. She
tried to ignore the spurt she felt between her own legs. She didn't
want to face that torment could arouse her like shame.

"According to you, you've been fucking her ass non-stop for months,"
Rory was discussing possible uses as Susan knelt between Grimsby's
legs, sucking his cock. "I'm just saying, give someone else a shot."

It was typical. He didn't have a huge cock, just a little bigger than
Grimsby's. But of course he wanted it in her tightest hole. She could
consider this clearly. She felt no unspeakable arousal at the
proposition. She only knew what was coming and that she had no choice.
It was only strange that this troubling prospect could feel like
relief.

She was running along the edge of panic when she saw what they
intended. Perhaps she had known the possibility, but had shut it out
completely in her horror. There was no mystery for her when Grimsby
turned sideways on the couch and had him get over him. His cock felt
like a nail to hold her in place.

Her mind flew to every other thought, any other thought than what they
intended as she felt Rory get behind her. She was dragged rudely back
to reality when she felt him push against her anus. Of course they
could use her this way. She had the proper entrances, but the way they
were using them was hardly proper.

It was the way sluts, whore, slatterns, chippies, women of the lowest
sort were treated. That she was unwilling was barely a defense. She
felt dirtied again, more dirtied than Grimsby had managed in months of
every humiliating practice he could think of. She also felt subjugated
in a way for which there was no argument. There were two cocks using
her and she was not only helpless to resist, but occupied more totally
than she could rationalize.

And even then, as the cock in her ass drove into her and Grimsby sighed
at the friction along his own cock, she was not as vanquished as she
was a moment later.

"That's it, take it like a whore, you dirty little slut," Rory growled
at her. "You're a nasty slut, aren't you?"

It was the distillation of her self hate at the moment. She felt a
chill- or was it a thrill- at the words. It seemed he was looking
inside her. He was seeing how she was inside.

"Only a dirty girl likes it like this," he told her. "You like it. I
can tell. That's right, wiggle your ass for me. Wiggle and take
it. Take it you nasty cunt!"

She could argue that he was making her ass move, but she knew she was
getting wet. She was a nasty whore. Susan felt as if her whole life
had been a lie to this moment.

Later, she tried to be frank with herself, as much as she could, not
understanding. She was in no fit state to make  decisions about her
identity under that stress, was her first conclusion. If she could not
understand when she was being as honest as she could muster, then she
certainly didn't know while being submitted to the worst shame she'd
ever known.

But that left the fact that she had been aroused. She didn't crave what
she'd been put through. She couldn't hide that from herself. She might
not admit it to someone else, but she couldn't hide it from herself.
She didn't crave it, but she had responded. It was circular. Going
around and around wouldn't solve it.

She had to step back and try to come to an approximation. It aroused
her. Fact. It made her feel dirty and disgusted. Fact. She didn't like
feeling that way, but it still turned her on. It was a mystery, but a
mysterious fact. There wasn't anything she could do but file it for
reference. It was something she knew about herself without
understanding. That would have to do for now.

Chapter 8 - The Leopard Picks his Spot

"I don't see Robert Lyle Lyle III on your schedule," Jerry said
casually to open the conversation.

"Nope. I guess I've taught him all the lessons he wants," Susan
answered as casually.

"Doesn't fancy playing golf naked then?" Jerry let his discovery of old
gossip slip out.

"I don't think he likes getting beat by a woman," Susan said. "Men have
such fragile egos."

Jerry grinned weakly at that. He'd been a good sport about it, but
Susan noticed he picked one of his students when he went out for a
casual round lately. He was competitive enough, she thought. She rarely
beat him by more than two strokes and he'd won a handful of times in
the dozens they'd played. But she wasn't going to let him win to salve
his ego.

She learned better in high school, letting the best boy be team leader
by hacking a stroke here and there. That was fine when the team won on
her less than honest effort, but in regionals when it was on the line
and she demolished him, it was if she had lain in the weeds and bit
him like a snake.

Since then: No mercy. It was better to have it all out where they could
see it. For a second that phrase hung in her mind.

"Anyone else queuing up for lessons?" she asked to restart the stalled
conversation.

"Nope," he said scanning the sheet. "Looks like you'll have some free
time from Thursday to Monday."

Susan flinched. It sounded like Jerry was going to say more. She braced
for the invitation. She no longer would put it past him to try and
seduce her, but he turned away and went to straighten up the demo
drivers on their rack.

It made her think of another way to use her free time. She went to the
stairs and up into the main area of the club. She was relieved not to
meet Mr. Travis on her way to the offices. She stopped at Mrs.
Brunner's desk.

"I was wondering if Mr. Lyle had any free time in the near future?" she
asked. "I'd like to make an appointment."

Mrs. Brunner's face was at first dour, responding to the female voice,
but it smoothed when she saw Susan.

"Oh, it's you," she said as if that was a good thing, "I have a 9:00
tomorrow."

Susan shook her head. "Anything in the afternoon, after my shift?" she
asked.

"Friday at 2:30," Mrs. Brunner scanned her book. "Shall I tell him what
this is in reference to?"

"The matter we discussed before," Susan said, a bit concerned how that
sounded.

"All right. Re: Old business. We'll see you at 2:30, then," the elderly
woman said with a smile.

Susan had a sense Mrs. Brunner knew more than she was letting on. That
was convenient in the present matter. She was glad Mrs. Brunner didn't
suspect she was having an affair with Mr. Lyle II, but she'd have to
keep it in mind if anything more sensitive came up.

She was being a busybody. There was no other excuse. Banging in the
kitchen was no affair of hers. On her way to the stairs she detoured
out of sheer curiosity.

When she peeked in through the window of the swinging door, she saw the
banging was an affair of Mr. Travis's. The cook, a young, 25 or so,
Hispanic-looking girl was perched on the edge of a sink with her legs
on Travis's chest. He was banging her quite energetically. 

The girl didn't look pleased. Her eyes were wide, but she wasn't trying
to get away. Susan concluded that Travis had threatened her unless she
allowed him to fuck her. It fit her opinion of him. The rattling that
had drawn her to the window seemed to be pots the cook had disturbed
as Travis bounced her on the sink's edge.

Susan backed away. It was still none of her business, but it made her
feel better about her opinion of Travis. He was a slimy character. She
was glad she worked downstairs. Jerry might have been revealed as less
than she thought, but he still wasn't a sleazy predator like Travis.

On Friday she was in her Golden Oaks polo shirt and pleated khakis when
she walked into Mr. Lyle's office. He smiled at her as she came in and
sat.

"Never seen that logo look better," he nodded at the golden oak tree
that stretched out over the top of her left breast.

Susan had an urge to ask him if he was done staring at her tit and
could they get to business, but his face turned to hers just quickly
enough she held off. Instead, she said, "I still don't have any ideas,
but I want to tell you that I have Thursday afternoon and from Friday
afternoon until Monday free for anything you think of."

"And it's good to check in," he added. "But I'm afraid I've run into
some problems and only one concerns our business."

"And that is?" Susan prompted him.

"Rob is crushed," he said. "Not to say you did anything wrong, but he's
taking his humiliation harder than I thought. I guess it's a lot to
work through, and not just that you're a better golfer. I think he's
feeling so ashamed of storming off like a three-year-old that he
doesn't feel he can show his face around you."

Susan was nonplused.

"I told you he wants you," Mr. Lyle said to her look of surprise, "I'm
sure his crude behavior before was his idea of a clever courting
strategy. But now... Well, even the kindest thing to say is that he
lost face."

"Courting?" Susan sputtered, "But I'm 10 years older than he is."

"Age is no barrier," Mr. Lyle said airily, "And Rob doesn't understand
barriers in any case. He expects to have what he wants. That is why you
represent a unique opportunity to adjust his perceptions."

"So I'm not supposed to lead him on?" Susan asked suspiciously. "You
don't expect me to marry him if he gets it right?"

"I'd rather you married me," he said flatly. "I'm sure you'd do me more
good than junior and I'd certainly do you more good, but no. I am
hoping we will devise a way for you to bring him back to earth and then
just talk to him. A serious talk about real life and what it is to face
up to it. I'm not trying to punish him. I want him set straight is all
and I think you're the one person he might actually listen to."

"Then why don't I just talk to him, sit him down and have a straight
conversation?" Susan asked.

"That may very well be the best plan- once he's ready to face you
again," Mr. Lyle agreed. "But that's still in the future and I'm afraid
I've got a presentation on the Charity Event scheduled in a moment."

"What are these for?" she asked when she'd returned to the pro shop.

"Every year Golden Oaks hosts a charity event, the Charity Event,"
Jerry explained. "It's rich old men trying to prove their shriveled old
dicks are bigger than the shriveled old dicks of the rich old men one
town over. It's a competition over how much money can be raised in the
guise of being benevolent."

"You sure are cynical," Susan said, "surely the money does some good."

"It's the difference if they give it to take it off their personal
income or their companies," Jerry said. "I doubt they give a penny more
than can be advantageously written off."

"You are a cynic," she reaffirmed, "So what's involved?"

"They try to come up with something different every year. You know,
arrest bigwigs and make them bail themselves out for charity, auctions,
balls, carnivals, that kind of crap." Jerry said, turning over the last
poster to look at the next.

"And what's this year's big deal?" Susan asked.

"Haven't heard," Jerry said absently, "I think Mr. Lyle, the oldest
living, is still trying to come up with something. Hasn't bested
Emerald Glen in five years. I think he's getting desperate."

Emerald Glen, local celebrity Ewan McDougal, the best pro that never
played a round. Playing around was more to his taste and was rumored
to have children in some of the most prestigious families in the state.
Susan had heard the rumors and the whispers as well. It made her
remember something a teammate had told her.

Chapter 9 - Something Old, Something New

She'd kept up old habits despite the debacle. She was privately quite
eager for someone to try the same coercion as Grimsby. She was beyond
youthful shyness now and quite at peace with sending a pervert to jail.

It showed in the golden tan over every inch of her eye-popping form.
She paid close attention to the direction of the sun so the shadow of
her huge tits didn't leave light crescents on their undersides. She was
evenly spread with the gilded hue everywhere.

As much was remarked and echoed through the crowd lining the first tee
as she bent to tee her ball. She wore a sun visor just to emphasize
the contrast. From it to her shoes, there was nothing but tan.

McDougal was trying to hold his driver advantageously to hide behind
it. He was splotchy in comparison. He was not in good spirits even with
the naked woman so close to him. He had no more than pride on the line.
The rest had been used to get him to the line. Several indiscretions
had suddenly become a concern- unless he agreed to uphold Emerald
Glen's honor in this charity match.

Some whispered he was more out of sorts having to actually play golf
than that he was naked.

Mr. Lyle II had listened with interest as Susan explained her idea. She
knew he was trying to picture her naked from the time she mentioned it,
but he had enough attention left to absorb the gist of her idea. It was
for charity, so a certain leeway could be made in the dress code, she
opined.

Rob had furnished her with the framework, ironically enough. It would
be match play, but in reverse. Whoever won the hole had the right to
put something on. But as amusing as it might be to see naked golfers
and with what might be collected in admission fees, it was hardly
enough.

Her twist was auctioning off the clothing won, so the golfers would
remain naked, for the gallery's viewing enjoyment, as they played. Mr.
Lyle particularly liked pitting her against the best Emerald Glen had
to offer. He smelled a victory in the offing and was eager to work out
the details.

"Are you sure you're up to it?" he asked Susan. "There are likely to be
thousands when the word gets out."

"I find one is the same as a hundred," Susan said. "I promise you I'll
compete if you can work it out."

She was already out of her chair before he made the suggestion.

"Given some of the things said between us, I think you'll agree this is
a fair show of commitment, " she said, somewhat muffled by the polo
shirt going over her head.

From the look in his eyes it was more than a fair show when she was
naked and walked a square path in front of his desk. She saw him
breathe twice before he was ready to speak.

"I can't say how much I appreciate this. Not just this," he said waving
at her, "But committing to do this for the club. I'm sure it will make
for the most memorable Charity Event ever. It will be talked about...
forever."

"You still have to get Emerald Glen to agree," she reminded him,
returning to her chair without bothering to dress. "I'm not sure
they'll see much advantage in that."

"You haven't figured that out?" he seemed shocked. "They'll ask for a
return favor. I thought you'd see that. Are you willing to play- like
that- at their course as well?"

"They don't have brambles do they?" Susan asked the first thing that
came to mind.

He laughed. "No, but you'll have to rely on their security, their crowd
control and I can't say they'll be as protective as we will be," he
said.

"Why does everyone forget I'll have a bag full of clubs with me?" she
asked. "I think I might be able to protect myself from the odd loony."

Her first ball was in the middle, a bit short, about 200 yards. She
stood back to watch McDougal swing. In his case it was even more
accurate than in hers. She could see why he got his reputation. His
penis was easily six inches flaccid. Unfortunately for him, his drive
was even more flaccid.

It was for charity. The only score that counted was how much they made
for a worthy cause. She slaughtered McDougal. It was only because it
was for charity that they played the last five holes. She went dormie
six and won the hole (7 and five) but they played out to give the
bidders more chances to bid on her bra.

McDougal's victory was that he didn't have an inconvenient erection
during the match. Even in front of a crowd, a naked woman lining up a
putt can be a temptation. 

The stunning success of Miss Ames's idea rivaled comments on her body
and what kind of person she must be to flaunt herself, around the
tables of the tournament dinner. It was a topic at both Golden Oaks and
Emerald Glen tables, though some Emerald Glen tables snarled in
contention over Emerald Glen members caught bidding on Susan's
underwear (thus contributing to Golden Oaks).

It all threatened to collapse when McDougal came down with a terrible
sunburn on his private parts. Some thought it was an excuse, but Susan
was ready to grant he had looked rather pink by day's end. Some thought
this was the sign Emerald Glen was bringing in a ringer. In this they
were more accurate.


Chapter 10 - Something Bothered, Someone Screwed

"Jer!" Susan huffed as Jerry barged into the changing room. "What's
gotten into you?"

"Christ! You were just gallivanting around totally naked for everyone
in four counties to see. What's the problem?" Jerry asked her, rolling
his eyes, "And I've got big news."

"It's not the same," Susan snapped, still holding the bra in front of
her breasts and keeping her thigh slightly raised to impede his view of
her brief panties, "That's like being on a stage. This is real. You're
too close."

Jerry took a half step back. "You want to hear or not?" he asked.

"I'll hear in a minute," Susan held her pose and stuck to her guns,
"Now get out of here."

She was preparing for the match at Emerald Glen. She'd cleared out her
underwear drawer for the Golden Oaks match and needed to replenish the
supply to auction at Emerald Glen. Because she was conscientious, she
wasn't going to take brand new things and pass them off as her own.

All morning she had been slipping into the changing room every hour or
half hour to change into a new set of underwear. Then she could
honestly claim them as her own and, with unspoken understanding, not
cheat a buyer who had private fantasies to play out with items that had
touched her in intimate places.

Unfortunately, local stores had little in the way of sexy bras that
could support her bust, at least in stores she was willing to visit,
and she had to settle for zebra and jaguar spot prints on sensible
boulder-holders. She made up for it, she thought, with the silky, sheer
and skimpy collection of panties. It was one such pair she felt the
need to cover when Jerry barged in. She felt the need to pull on shorts
for the same reason after she put on the bra to go see what Jerry had
to say.

"Now what is this news that you thought was so important it entitled
you to peek at me?" Susan asked him sharply.

"Get over yourself," Jerry said with a dismissive wave of his hand at
the accusation. "Don't you think I, like every other male for 50 miles,
memorized every inch of your body in the four and a half hours you were
flaunting it in the sun?" he asked, and it was a revelation to Susan.

"And your news?" Susan asked again, anxious to get over the sticky
spot. She hadn't thought about it from the gallery's perspective. She
had been privately, secretly, dipped in shame and rolling in filth in a
way that took her back to Grimsby's apartment. She hadn't considered
how the viewers might be greedy to capture the moment. She had been
tingling in guilty excitement, hoping it wouldn't run down her thigh.
At most she thought of their eyes on her. She hadn't considered they
might have their own excitement, their own need to take the memory away
with them.

"I know who Emerald Glen is putting up against you in the match," Jerry
teased.

"Are you going to tell me?" she asked more sharply than necessary. She
was still digesting the idea that all across the surrounding area there
were likely men masturbating to memories of her body. 

"It's little Lyle!" Jerry said and then frowned as he didn't get the
reaction he expected.

Susan absorbed the news as one more thing to think about. She had just
had the interesting revelation that she didn't care how much semen was
spilled in thoughts of her. It was just like men staring when she first
grew tits. It was their problem, not hers and there was nothing she
could do about it. Except in this case she could stop golfing nude, but
that would be the same as hiding when she got tits.

"Robert III?" she asked when she was ready to consider that.

"Yep. I heard the old man confirming it," Jerry said. "Seems he
volunteered and it sounded like Emerald Glen had agreed."

"Then I'll need more underwear to auction," she tried to sound brash to
hide the swirling thoughts in her head.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Jerry cautioned. "You know the kid is
good and he knows Emerald Glen. He's been playing in the junior's
tournament over there for years. You need to be sharp."

She was grateful for Jerry's concern and the advice, but she had
another burning mission. It seemed Mr. Lyle II had set this up and she
needed to know why. She looked for her shirt so she could run upstairs
and see him.

"I guess we have to be glad you're wearing anything," Mr. Travis
scoffed as she rushed by him on her way to the office. "But that's
hardly appropriate attire for the lodge."

"I'm sure Mr. Lyle will punish me appropriately," Susan threw off as
she passed.

She didn't have time to think about Travis or her animosity toward him.
It wasn't nice to sass him like that, but she didn't care much about
that, either. She didn't even consider how he might take her words.

Mrs. Brunner sat like a watch-dog at the door. Susan resolved to be
nicer to her. She slowed to a walk as she went to the desk.

"Any chance I can see Mr. Lyle right now?" she asked.

"As it happens -- yes," Mrs. Brunner said. "I was just calling down to
the pro shop to ask you to come up. Convenient, isn't it?"

Susan didn't spare any wonder at Mrs. Brunner's cryptic comments. She
was sure Mr. Lyle II wanted to tell her what she already knew. She
hoped he was going to explain as well.

"Well, hello -- nice to see you again," Mr. Lyle looked up in surprise
that melted into a wise smile.

Susan looked down at herself. Come on, she thought, you've seen me
naked. So my shorts are very short, what's the big deal? But she said,
"You want to tell me Rob is playing against me?"

He nodded. "I thought Mr. Burns would run to tell you," he said. "I
take it you came up here before Mrs. Brunner summoned you?"

"Yes," she said, her mind slowing to thinking speed, "I wanted to know
why, but I think I'm getting it. It's because he wants to face me
again, isn't it?"

"Yes," he said simply. "And I think he feels he stands a better chance.
He tried to hide it, but I think he feels he can be competitive at
Emerald Glen."

"Well, it's for charity," Susan said. "It doesn't matter who does
better, does it?"

Mr. Lyle just smiled until the expression became frozen. Susan wondered
if she was being dismissed when he finally said, "You aren't getting
it, are you? If he thinks he has any chance at all, he will want to
make a side bet, just between the two of you."

"What? If he wins one hole, he can fuck me? I won't take a bet like
that. If he wants to put it on the match- good luck to him," Susan said
brashly.

"I'm certain he will be more calculating than that. He is my son," Mr.
Lyle said with a hint of pride. "And it's your business if you want to
accept the wager or not. I just want you to be warned."

"Just warned?" she asked. "You don't have any other interest? You don't
have an opinion how this might affect Rob one way or the other? No
advice whether it would be better to tease him or flatly reject him?"

"None. I trust your judgment," he said. "If I knew his plan, perhaps,
but it could be childishly brash or deviously clever."

"Then tell me, if it's deviously clever and possible he might win,
should I gamble that he might get to fuck me?" Susan asked.

"That's for you to say," Mr. Lyle was unhelpful. "I'm certainly not
going to tell you to prostitute yourself. If you think it worth the
risk and are not repulsed by the idea- that's one thing. If you want
nothing to do with Rob, that's another."

"I know that," Susan was impatient, "But your opinion. Will it do any
good? If I bet him and lose, will that make him worse or better? Will
it fuck up what you want?"

"I trust your judgment," Mr. Lyle said again and quelled her retort
with a raised hand. "And by that I mean you have already proved
yourself to be Rob's match. I think that whatever happens, you will
teach him the lessons he needs to learn. You've proven to be clever and
resourceful and I don't doubt Rob will absorb valuable traits however
the contest turns out."

She wasn't going to get anything more from him. She would have to look
to herself for guidance. First off, how did she feel about fucking a
child? It wasn't likely Rob III was going to show her anything she
hadn't seen. That was one secret that no one knew. He might think he
was the consummate lover, but she wasn't some teenager from Podunk.

The other side was the smug smile he'd have for doing her, no matter
how weakly she'd been done. That didn't seem to fit in with the elder
Lyle's aim. And what were the chances anyway? She was certain Rob
hadn't taken the effect of being naked into account.

Susan was firmly undecided as she walked to the first tee of the
foreign course. She was going to trust her judgment.

"You look good," Rob swept his eyes over her without lingering. "I see
you tan."

"It's better than burning," she said as she leaned to put her tee in
the ground.

"Side bet?" Rob asked without further ado.

"Strip golf?" she scoffed. "We play without shoes?"

"Sex golf," he said. "We play for hot, sweaty action."

"If you win even one hole you can have me?" Susan snorted. "I know
you're good enough to win a hole. McDougal won two on my home course."

"I'll take that bet, but I know that's not your offer," Rob said. "What
about progressive? One hole, I kiss you. Two holes, I touch you. Three
holes, you touch me. Four- well, we touch each other in close
proximity.- you know what I'm saying."

"What's five? Or don't you think you can take five?" Susan asked.

"Winner's choice," he said. "And, you're right, I'll be lucky to take
five."

"What do I get for the holes I win?" Susan countered.

"The enviable relief of not having to touch me," Rob snorted. "We both
know this is about whether I can take four holes from you."

"You know what? I think you know which holes you expect to win," Susan
challenged him. "You're pretty sure there are four out there that will
fool me. And you know what else? I'll take the bet- but only if you
play a round at Golden Oaks next Thursday just as naked as you are now
if you don't win your four."

"Okay," he said quietly. "Much to gain. Little to lose. If you play
with me- in case I lose- just as you are."

He wasn't so smug as determined. Susan felt it was progress. She put
the first one in the middle 215 yards down the fairway. Rob's was
within 3 yards.

Rob was sweating, and not from the heat, on the 10th tee. The front had
gone as he expected, with him picking up his first win and ending
Susan's string of three on the fourth hole, up to the sixth. The short
par 4 was a pitch and putt hole he expected to take. Only anatomy
prevailed. Like McDougal before him, he was affected by the way Susan
squatted, hanging her putter as a plumb as she lined up the putt.
Unlike McDougal, he had his own putter stand at the sight.

She put it on the lip, clearing the way for him to sink a 9-footer and
take the hole, but he choked. Perhaps flinched as his hands came
through and grazed his hard-on is more accurate, or couldn't keep his
concentration as he stood over his putt with his dick jutting out, but
he missed and had to settle for the tie.

Susan could tell he'd been counting on it. She showed no mercy, blowing
him away on the next three holes, including an Eagle on the par 5 
ninth. But Susan found herself in uneven ground and had to hit to the
center of the green on the 10th. Rob perked up visibly when he was able
to sink his putt and hers sat 2 feet away. He made a big push on the
11th and managed a tie.

Susan wasn't worried- yet. But Rob was showing a burst of confidence
that the loss of the 12th didn't dim. He hit short on the 13th and
Susan saw his plan as she stood behind him waiting to go to her ball.
He took the hole, now three up in their side bet, having fended off
dormie 6 with the win and sitting dormie 5.

He was smirking even when she took the 14th and the match 6 and 4. She
suspected the hazard-strewn 15th was where he planned to cap his day
and win his prize. She drove the thought out of her head to concentrate
and it wasn't that hard. If he'd been the Rob she'd been playing all
day back on that first day, she might have liked him.

Of course, she would have disqualified him on age at that point, but
she'd have liked him. Oddly, seeing him grow was making the idea he
might win the chance to have her not disturbing. It was, in its way, a
fair fight and he'd deserve her if he could win her. Her shot landed
perfectly and then rolled to the right.

This was the spot where his knowledge of the course was his advantage.
He was on in two, nestled within 5 feet and she had rolled into a trap
on the inclined fairway. She was going to do her best. One club more,
feet firm, watch the club hit the ball.

She watched the color drain from Rob's face as her 25 foot putt stopped
on the edge of the cup and toppled in. He knocked his in for the tie
and stood looking down at his ball in the cup. Dogleg, straightaway,
straightaway, Susan knew from his expression there were no more tricky
elevations or deceiving lies on the course. She had pulled off the
shots needed to defeat his plan.

He'd get a hand-job out of it, she thought as they teed off on the
16th. That was more than any other boy or man at Golden Oaks could say.
It should teach him a lesson about life, she continued. It was probably
the best thing that could come out of it. And they'd play naked golf on
Thursday, he could look forward to that.

He was taking it well, she thought. He was still giving it his best,
knowing it was a losing cause.

She hit the best shot of the day on the par 5 17th. She was 40-some
yards off the green and hit a flop shot that soared high in the air to
land just at the cut of the grass. It was mere inches from grabbing and
rolling to the pin. It was in just the spot to waver and roll back into
the sand.

No one could say it landed exactly where she wanted it. It was so
perfectly near a great shot that no one would think she had done it on
purpose. But then, only one very distraught senior boy at her high
school ever knew how good she was at fudging a stroke here and there.

It was almost worth the light in Rob's eyes as he chipped up and sank
the birdie as she sat within 3 feet for par. But she hadn't done it to
make him happy. She felt he earned it. Maybe, strictly, he hadn't, but
it could have gone that way. She might have actually missed one stroke
somewhere. He had played his best, overcome disappointment and stayed
focused with unexpected good fortune. Her judgment said he deserved a
reward.

She smashed him on the last hole, hitting her second shot inside a foot
and tapping in before his third shot stopped rolling. He still wasn't
good enough to play even up. 

"Nice round," she said as she got into the cart that was to whisk her
through the onlookers to the clubhouse.

"You too," Rob said, getting in his own cart, "That sand shot on 15 was
something."

"You did bet," Rob said defensively when Susan confronted him, both now
wrapped in towels in the lower hall of Emerald Glen.

"We can discuss that later," Susan said. "Right now I want to know
where the showers are. You've been here before. Show me."

It didn't take judgment to laugh as Rob pointed to the woman's lockers
and push him into the men's. They'd been wandering around each other
naked all day and it seemed somehow normal to pull off his towel and
drop her own. It felt just as normal, though it might be questioned, to
share the same showerhead.

"What are you doing?" Rob asked when she first stripped him and pushed
him into the showers. "I thought you hated me."

"I hated a smug little punk," Susan said, "But don't take this the
wrong way either. It's just a shower. We've been walking around naked
all day and it seems stupid to have to go hide in separate rooms after
that. Besides, no reason to be alone."

Oh yeah, Rob got a hard-on, but he tried to pretend it wasn't there and
Susan ignored it. They even soaped themselves as they shared the spray.
She hadn't thought of it as a test, but it turned out to be. He was
acting more grown up at least.

Chapter 11 - 'Rob'bing the Cradle

"I didn't think about it," Rob told her. "I mean, I didn't get so far
as to work out the details."

"You didn't think you could win?" she questioned him.

"No, not that. I mean, I didn't know, but I thought I had a chance. I
just didn't think about how we'd... how it would go if I won," Rob
said. "I mean where? When? Should I get us a room- or is that too
gauche?"

"You want me to take care of it?" she asked.

"No!" Rob said, "That's so lame. You lose a bet and then have to
arrange the pay off? No, I'll handle it."

"Listen," Susan tried to calm him. "I appreciate what you're saying but
I can handle it. I'll feel more comfortable that way. You want me to be
comfortable, don't you?"

There was no way he could refuse, put that way, but Susan didn't think
he was happy. He still thought he should be in charge of their
assignation. Susan wasn't much more sure herself. A nice hotel room
could be comfortable.

"Mr. Lyle, please. ... Susan Ames," Susan said to Mrs. Brennan on the
intra-club switchboard.

"Yes, Miss Ames, " Mr. Lyle came on the line.

"Can I speak of a personal and private matter on this line?" she asked.

Gaining his gruff approval, Susan said simply, "Junior won. He needs a
place and I think his room will be perfect. Do you have any
objections?"

"That was hardly the topic to discuss over the phone," Mr. Lyle was
seething as she stood in front of his desk.

"I did ask first," Susan reminded him.

"Well, I suppose," he said, still grumpy but calming. "But what do you
mean by asking if he can use his room? What does that make me if I say
yes? Your pimp?"

"You know better than that," Susan snapped, offended by the idea, "We
had a bet. I lost. And I think Rob will gain more by facing you than
sneaking off to some hotel. It's about making him a man, isn't it? Only
half that is getting laid. The bigger part is establishing your place
with your father."

Mr. Lyle thought about that for a moment, idly shifting papers on his
desk. "So what? He tells me it's his business and to keep out? He's
going to fuck you and I should go sit in another room? Do you think he
can? Do you think I can let him?" Mr. Lyle asked, rapid fire.

"I was thinking more along the lines of the truth," Susan said. "I had
a bet and she lost. She has to fuck me. You understand, don't you, old
bean."

"Old bean?" Mr. Lyle snorted. "Well, yes, I suppose... but hold on.
Won't he suspect I was in on it if I give in to that?"

"I can tell him you were," Susan offered. "That's the truth isn't it?
That it was for his own good and that he made good. I think he'll
respect you for that. I'll bet he'll even be grateful."

Mr. Lyle thought some more. "And it's for my own good too?" he asked.
"Rob's not the only Lyle you're playing with here, is he?"

"I'm only suggesting the truth," Susan said, "I don't mind being your
messenger, but I think the message will be much more effective and
better understood it if comes straight from the source. I'm not his
father. I think he needs to know how you work behind the scenes for his
benefit. I think it will bring you closer."

"It is an odd way to go about it," Mr. Lyle said. "But it always comes
down to a woman in the end, doesn't it? It's what makes a man finally
stand up to his father. I suppose you have a point."

"It's not the only one," Susan said, flushed with her victory. "There's
something else that's for your own good, too."

"This is a joke, isn't it? If you don't want to, just say so," Rob was
recalcitrant and nervous as he pulled his BMW into the circular
driveway in front of his house.

"It's the honest truth and you'll have to trust me," Susan said. "Now
let's go in."

"She's told you everything, hasn't she? So I don't have to explain,"
Mr. Lyle II spoke from the top of the staircase, "I'll be in my study.
You go about your... business."

"Only why you didn't tell me," Mr. Lyle III said. "I get how you
couldn't help me figure out the bet and that, but why didn't you say
you'd been talking to her?"

"Would you have listened to her if you thought I'd sent her?" Mr. Lyle
II asked. He seemed to bite saying off more.

"Well..." Lyle III hesitated, "I guess not. But we'll never know, will
we?"

"I'll be in my study," Mr. Lyle II said.

"I can't believe him," Rob said as he stared at the door to his room.
"He's so..."

"He's concerned, whatever else he is," Susan said, standing naked and
not used to being ignored. "Now are you going to try to figure out what
your father is or claim your winnings?"

It wasn't just her naked body that had the effect. He'd seen that. It
was that she was naked for him and going to let him take her. Rob
hurried out of his clothes not worrying about looking like the eager
teen he was. Naked and prominently erect, he approached her.

"First, I won a kiss," he said.

They were going to fuck and she didn't see the point, but Susan was
willing to let Rob play it out however was best for him. It was very
much touching her and touching him as well as they pressed together
while their tongues played. Rob's erection was leaking along her belly
as he pulled at her, trying to conquer her tongue.

"Now you touch me," Susan said when he came up for air.

He arranged her on the bed for that. He put her on her side so his
hands could roam over her without having to turn her and turn her. She
was surprised when her breasts were less than half his focus. His hands
kept returning to them, insuring that her nipples stayed erect, but he
spent as much time on thighs and belly and her high, round ass as he
did her breasts.

"Now I touch you," she said when she was shifting with the nervousness
of excitement at his hands.

"We can skip that," he said in a pinched voice, "I don't know if I can
hold it if you touch me."

"A bet's a bet," she said to his distress and then smiled to add, "And
so is you having me- however long that takes."

His eyes lit up like they had at his unexpected win on the 10th hole.
He relaxed the tiniest bit as her hand went down over his stomach, over
his belly, and wrapped around his cock. But then she went on, down to
his balls, over his thighs and back to his butt. She stroked over his
back before he leaned on him to put him on his back.

It was touching. She didn't think he'd cry foul in any case as she
trailed her lips where her hand had gone and took his cock in her
mouth. She was certainly touching his balls for the brief minute it
took for him to cum in her mouth.

"Don't explain," she said sternly as she looked up at him from his
groin. "I've been here the whole time. I don't think it was too quick."

It was quick, but couldn't be too quick for his cock to revive and be a
solid bar again. They were laying on their sides again, pressed
together and kissing from time to time when she felt it poke her. She
gave him a moment to speak, but she thought he was waiting on her.
Obliging boy, she thought.

"Are you ready?" she asked him.

He was. She lay back since he gave her no direction. He climbed over
her and paused for one breath before sliding into her. She thought he
was trying to be considerate. All the play leading up to the moment had
made that unnecessary but she appreciated the gesture.

He took his time. She didn't flatter herself to think it was concern
for her. She imagined he was more interested in making it long and
memorable for himself. She didn't let that carry over to her response.
She rolled her hips to the level of his urgency. Honestly, it was as
much to pay her debt as compassion. He was still a kid. It was
something for his good, not hers.

That did not mean she didn't take the enjoyment she could from the hard
cock thrusting into her. She was there. It was pointless to deny
herself and Rob was stirring excitement in her with his growing ardor.
She let herself experience it. She fucked him. It was no teaching
session, just a boy thrusting into her. She let it be what it could.

It reached the point of pleasant happy and plateaued before Rob began
hunching rapidly. He came in her with vigorous, jabbing thrusts and
tried to come again, thrusting on until it was pointless. He rolled off
and lay beside her, breathing hard until his breathing came back under
control.

"So? Now what?" he asked.

"I guess you brag to all your friends how you fucked the broad with the
big tits," Susan said.

"What? No. I wouldn't," Rob said.

"If you do, I won't deny it," she said. "I just won't bring it up
myself. Girls don't brag like boys."

"I won't, and I meant what do we do now?" Rob said.

"I'd like a shower," she said. "Then you take me home. I don't mean
this to sound rude, but I was paying off a bet. I'm not going to keep
fucking you. I like you better than before, but you're still too young
for me."

"Well, then maybe I will brag," Rob said.

"Of course you will," she agreed. "You couldn't help it anyway."

"All done?" Mr. Lyle II was in the hallway as they came down the
stairs.

Susan put up a hand to stop Rob's rude reply. "Debt paid and
promptly," Susan said. "And he was a gentleman about it. I suspect
there's going to be some smug looks when he gets back."

Both Lyle II and III gave her a questioning look.

"Oh come on, dad," she laughed, "Rob's had something you haven't. And I
bet he thinks you'd like to."

"Of course I would," Lyle II said openly, "but all in due course and,
obviously, with a certain reciprocation of desire."

Chapter 12 - A Fair Affair

The month flew by like an animated time lapse. It seemed the trees
turned colors and dropped their leaves in about a minute of real time.
There were some hardy souls, or nuts as Susan referred to them,
watching for day not so blustery that they could play, but the season
was past and her time was almost completely devoted to tending the pro
shop.

She could live on her salary. It wasn't the extra money she missed, it
was having something to do, sunny days and playing golf. Romantic
evenings by the fireside were, particularly now, something for other
people. She had given up her last beau to take the job at Golden Oaks.

In actual fact, she hadn't gotten laid since she fucked Rob Lyle III.
And it wasn't like she was beating them from her door with a stick. It
didn't bother her so much as wound her pride, but she wouldn't have
minded someone- a decent someone- putting the blocks to her from time
to time.

Scared off, she decided. Intimidated by her perfect body as displayed
for all to see at the Charity Event, she thought. Not interested in a
bimbo, came to her in darker moments. The only interest she seemed to
attract was Mr. Travis and even he'd cooled toward her. Travis would
fuck anything. It was an outrage!

She'd thought, from his parting comments, that Mr. Lyle II might show
some interest, but, as far as she could tell, he had buried his nose in
other business and not given her another thought. That didn't bother
her generally, but when she got into a mood, she wondered where his
interest went. Did it end when he got his son laid? Was that really the
point?

She had to admit she hadn't gone to his office, but that was hardly her
place. She didn't think he'd take it too well if she rushed into his
office to ask if he wanted to fuck. He was the big cheese. It was his
place to summon her.

She hardly noticed that the occasional request to cover for Jerry had
become almost regular. She had her own thoughts and nothing else to do
with her time. She didn't ponder how much time Jerry was spending on
his own pursuits. It was one of the things that was none of her
business.

She only noticed the two men loitering around the shop because they
didn't look like golfers, or even members, and weren't interested in
the merchandise. She didn't come to the conclusion they were process
servers until Jerry wandered, unadvisedly, into the shop as was served
with a summons.

She thought it was her first example of Churn 'em and Burn 'em. It more
than passed her notice. She thrust it away as a slightly distasteful
part of the things that were none of her business and thought no more
about it. 

She had other things on her mind the following day. Mr. Lyle II
summoned her to his office. She discarded the idea he was finally
showing interest. The summons came through Mrs. Brunner and that didn't
make sense. Mr. Lyle didn't look like he was in an amorous mood behind
his desk either. Susan was grasping for a distraction when she spoke.

"Is this you finally showing your interest?" she asked.

"Hardly the right time, I'm afraid," Mr. Lyle said, seeming to give her
quip more weight than she intended. "Before, it might have been awkward
with Rob, but now... It would be just awkward all around, not to you
least of all."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"You don't know?" he seemed surprised. "I thought you had heard. Why
did you think I was calling you in because I was interested then?"

"I just said it. Break the tension. I thought I was in trouble," Susan
garbled out.

"Well, there's tension enough to go around," he said and Susan was
seeing how scattered he was. "I don't see any other choice really, and
I think you are a good choice. Certainly something has to be done."

"What are you talking about? What are you choosing me for?" she asked.

"Oh yes," he said, looking up as if she had just arrived. "You're now
Golden Oaks's head pro. There'll be some contracts to sign, but our
lawyers are still drawing those up. You've seen it done, so it won't be
all new to you."

"What about Jerry?" she asked.

"Exactly," he said maddeningly. "The Board has decided to pull away
from Mr. Burns before this whole affair spreads out to smear the club.
We don't want to seem to sanction his actions in any way."

"When do I sign these contracts?" she asked to give him a new focus.
"By then maybe you'll be ready to explain what this is all about
rationally."

"I do apologize, but it is hard to know what to think, much less
explain," he said. "But the Board is right. We must act decisively and
immediately. The contracts will be here tomorrow. Mrs. Brunner will
call you."

Mrs. Brunner just shook her head to warn Susan off. She wasn't going to
say anything either. She finished out her day in a ghostly deserted
shop and locked up to go home. She felt like one of the stupid people
that time they changed the sky to blue and didn't tell the stupid
people.

There wasn't that much to explain when Mrs. Brunner finally called to
say Mr. Lyle wanted her in the office. It was all over the papers: Wife
Kills Husband in Love-Nest Spat. It seemed Jerry Burns had finally met
the wife he couldn't burn. At least until Susan read more of the
stories of the crime.

"He threatened to kill me when I told him I was leaving him," the
widow/suspect was quoted as saying. "I love him. I would do anything to
get away so we could be together."

Susan wasn't sure it was what her attorneys wanted her saying, but it
didn't seem like she blamed Jerry. Maybe the great love figured in
their defense strategy, but she thought it gave the woman more motive.
As for the rest, it was not only none of her business, it didn't
interest her.

"Do you still need an explanation?" Mr. Lyle II, much calmer today,
asked as he pushed the papers across his desk for her to sign.

"I guess not," Susan said, her eyes scanning the first paper, pausing
to blink at the figure that was her new salary. "I saw the papers."

"This is the agreement for managing the pro shop," Mr. Lyle was all
business as he pushed that contract to her after she had signed and
Mrs. Brunner notarized the first. "And you'll need to find an
assistant."

"How soon?" Susan looked up in surprise.

"Not as much hurry as getting you in place and severing ties with Mr.
Burns," he said. "The one bright spot, if you can call it that, is this
happened in the off season. As long as you have someone by spring, that
should do, but I hope you can find someone by the first of the year, or
as near as possible. The applicants get thinner and less attractive as
the season approaches."

Most of the town carried on in a loud roar, but it was only whispered
about in corners at Golden Oaks. Susan stayed out of the corners and
minded her business in town. She still considered it none of her
business and her slightly guilty feeling at benefiting kept away the
temptation to change her opinion.

The change did put a sharp point on the one remaining bit of business
she did feel was hers. She had come to a conclusion as she went over
the books of the pro shop and got a feel of the operation. She needed
to consult Mr. Lyle II to make sure she wasn't making a big mistake.

"Does the club pro have to fuck the members?" she asked him straight
out.

"Did someone say that to you?" he asked.

She laughed. She had put it rather badly. In fact, the men still seemed
afraid of her.

"I meant, is it an unwritten rule, some kind of good old boy winking
agreement that the pro service their wives?" she asked. "Will there be
a low rumble of mutiny if the new one doesn't?"

Mr. Lyle considered her question seriously. "Only by the wives," he
said just as seriously, "But how can they complain? Honey, get rid of
the pro because he won't fuck me?"

"I wouldn't put it past some of them." Susan said.

"Then let them join a tennis club," Mr. Lyle said. "Why do you ask?
What do you have in mind?"

"Between us?" she asked and waited for him to nod, "Because I'm sick of
going without and I intend to hire an assistant that will help me with
that as well. His and hers pros, one bed, no hanky-panky."

Mr. Lyle thought again. "Could be inconvenient if we have to let one of
you go."

"Could be incentive not to make you want to," Susan countered.

"It's your call," Mr. Lyle said. "Your hire, your problem. As long as
you can convince the Board of his - it will be a him, won't it?"

"Unless she's really pretty," Susan smirked.

"You show the Board he's qualified and reliable and then it's your
responsibility," he assured her.

"I don't intend to hire anyone that can't beat the pants off me- in
strip golf," Susan said deadpan. "There won't be any problem about
qualifications. Which leaves only one problem."

"Which is?" Mr. Lyle prompted.

"How soon you loosen those pants of yours, because your window of
opportunity is shrinking every day that goes by," she said.

"Are you propositioning me?" he smiled.

"Putting you on notice," Susan said. "Make your move or lose your
chance. I'm looking for a lover as well as an assistant and when he
gets here, I'm not going to look at anyone else."

It was only good sense and good manners. Mr. Lyle had been helpful and
she did feel a certain bond with him. Beyond that, she still hadn't
been laid since Rob fucked her. It was a good move from several
perspectives. Ignoring the fact that he was her boss and it looked bad
for her to make nice-nice after a juicy promotion only made it better.

They both knew better than that and who the fuck else counted?

Chapter 12 - My Bed Has Echoes

"I guess the difference is that mine is larger," Mr. Lyle II was
saying.

He was referring to his bedroom. Susan didn't notice much difference in
his cock. It was interesting that, months apart, she would be getting
laid for the next time in the same house where she'd been laid the last
time. The months apart part being as interesting as the locale in her
case.

Rob hadn't been home when they arrived. He wasn't in the bedroom where
Susan was laying naked and Mr. Lyle II had just laid down beside her.
Lyle was on his back looking around, preparatory to turning to Susan
and looking her over. When he did, she half turned to him, impatient to
start, but not wanting to jump on him.

There was something about being in bed with her boss that made
attacking seem improper. She did take his hand when he reached out and
hurried it over her body to give him the hint she wanted to get to it.
He smiled but ignore the hint or missed it.

It was all right when he kissed her. It was enough to calm her urgency
or dispel her nervousness. His exploring hand on her breast helped. It
made Susan feel how much she needed it without the same desperation
since it loomed so near.

"You could just put it in now," Susan prompted him as he moved to kiss
her neck.

"Now?" he lifted his head to look at her.

"I'm sure you're great and all- and you can show me later, but I'd like
to start," she confirmed.

There were things she didn't have to explain. He could fill in his own
meaning. She didn't care why he thought she was anxious. He politely
yielded to her wishes and got between her legs. She let out a moan of
contentment as she felt his cock slide into her. Finally her need was
in the past. Anticipation only made it worse, but now she could say
goodbye to all that. 

She began to move her hips immediately, not demandingly, but with a
slow sway meant to show him how much she appreciated having his cock
inside her. He held himself over her and let her move. Then he started
slow strokes to match her swaying. Content, comfort, absence of stress
and frustration, they seemed almost pleasurable enough at the moment.

"You don't mind it being slow now," he said between statement and
question.

"No, this is fine," she said. "I just wanted to start. I'm in no
particular hurry to finish."

It was an excellent choice of words. The one thing Mr. Lyle II seemed
best suited for was the slow finish. He seemed  just as content to have
his cock in her as she was to feel it. It seemed he only moved it to
remind them they were fucking. She imagined it could have been as long
since he got laid as it was for her.

Whatever the reason, it seemed a perfect paring of needs and wants. He
played with her breasts as if foreplay was something best done while
fucking as well as before. She thought he'd discovered an interesting
idea. It made her hips move a bit faster, but nothing like wanting him
to hurry to an end.

She let him tell her that when they'd eased slowly into a mild pace.

"I really want you now," he told her, after perhaps 15 or 20 minutes of
having her already.

What he meant was he wanted to pick up her legs and drive into her from
a new angle. Her legs draped over his arms and the new angle made it
feel like he drove deeper. Susan didn't care much beyond the increase
in heartbeat she felt as Mr. Lyle II fucked her more energetically.

Her breasts were surging each time he banged into her and she assumed
that was the reason his eyes were wider and his smile more satisfied as
he thrust. She knew he wasn't looking into her eyes as his thrusting
accelerated. His mouth gaped as he gasped for breath but Susan was
losing interest in his face, too. 

Her fingers curled into the covers on the bed as she tried to hold her
place against him pushing against her as he buried his cock in her
pussy. He was nothing but ravager now and she had long since greedily
accepted the role as ruined damsel. It was easy to feel battered as his
cock thrust and thrust and her tits flopping uncomfortably aided her
fantasy.

"Fuck me!" the deeper part of her begged, "No mercy! Harder!"

The damsel had surrendered and was bemoaning her fate. Susan,
underneath, wanted the damsel to feel despair. She  wanted the damsel
to scream in horror because she knew she'd climax. The damsel would be
terrified of the pleasure that Susan felt was hovering near. She wanted
Lyle to bring it closer, to ram it into her.

"Take it!" she managed to gasp as she felt caught on a crest like a
wave, rising and then smashing, scattered over the surface of oblivion.

Somewhere in the distance, Mr. Lyle seemed to heed her plea or she had
asked for what he intended anyway. She was still rocking on the bed as
he pounded into her. It was as if his stab and twitching was the alarm
set to bring her back from the daze of orgasm. She looked up, suddenly
alert to see his eyes clenched and his face a strange mask as his cock
jerked inside her and she knew he was cumming.

He landed face down when he pulled out and dropped to the bed. Susan
turned to her side toward him, her legs still drawn up as he had held
them. She watched the heave of his back grow less without comment. She
wasn't sure what to say. Thank you? You were great? I needed that? I'm
glad someone finally fucked me?

She could say all of them honestly. It made her wonder why she had
decided Mr. Lyle II would end her drought. Was it as simple as having 
contact with him over the problem of Rob, or did his status have
something to do with it? She could eliminate gratitude for the
promotion, because she'd felt the desire- hers as well as his obvious
interest- before any of that occurred.

"That was something. You were something," Mr. Lyle began by mumbling
into the pillow, but became clear as he rolled over onto his side. "I
quite forgot myself at the end."

This was easier. Susan knew what to say. "Then forget again, because
the end was where it got good," she told him.

"Again," he said it like it was a foreign word whose meaning he should
know, but was escaping him. "Do you think I have it in me?" he asked.

"If you don't, I can go see if Rob's home yet," she said, sitting up.

He made some snorting she thought might be a weak laugh to match the
weak smile he had on his face. She wondered what he was thinking. He
wasn't so overcome that his mind had shut down. She didn't know him
well, but she knew him better than that.

When he was content to stay silent, she asked. "Didn't that offend
you?" she asked. "Aren't you afraid I'll seek out a younger man? Why
aren't you attacking me to prove me wrong?"

"Was that your intent?" he asked. "And I remind you, you are seeking
out a younger man, if not my son. I seem to be a stopgap while you
look."

Susan understood better. "Rob was the last to fuck me before you," she
was honest. "Yes, I wanted someone and I was pretty sure you were
interested. Maybe that's a stopgap, but I thought you'd appreciate the
opportunity. And I wasn't going to grab the first cock I saw. I don't
feel dirty being with you."

He looked at her strangely. The expression he wore was strange, but he
also regarded her as something foreign. 

"But, of course, only after assuring me that I can't have you as more
than a passing affair," he said.

"Do you really want more?" Susan asked. "What room do you plant me in?
Which is the trophy room? And then what do I do while you continue as
you have been all these years?"

He smirked at her and the expression wasn't weak. The wry grin
indicated she'd hit the mark,

"If I didn't believe your lack of interest, I would think it was a most
clever pretense to show your disinterest in my wealth," he said. "Which
would be just the thing, except your timing is exactly wrong and you
can't be clever one moment and dumb the next."

Susan was caught off-guard. She hadn't known he was thinking so deeply
about her. "I could be lying about looking elsewhere for a lover," she
said to show she understood, "I might be fishing for a better offer to
stay with you."

"But you wouldn't pick the week you'd been promoted or the middle of a
scandal," he said to show her she didn't understand.

"So you're right," Susan said. "I just want to fuck you. So when's that
going to happen again?"

"Now wait," he said, "we still haven't resolved this business about
being a stopgap. Do you think it's fair to dangle yourself in front of
me and then tell me I can't have you?"

Susan realized he was negotiating. "Would you rather have some or
none?" she countered.

"There is that," he said and changed tack, "But you said again. You
mean now or some other time?"

"It could be both if you'd prefer doing something about it to
talking," Susan scolded him gently.

Talking had been therapy. The best part was when he felt he was
bargaining. She had noticed how the vigor returned when he was in his
element. He looked alive, not tired as they had talked. He looked ready
to begin again.

Instead, he nodded and climbed off the bed. "Some refreshment?" he
offered as he walked to the sideboard and selected the cognac. She
shook her head and he passed over the snifters to pour a healthy finger
in an old-fashioned glass. He sniffed it with satisfaction and then
came back to sit on the bed.

"Anal sex?" he said, apropos of nothing.

"Is this a test?" Susan asked. "I know what it means. Was it what I was
thinking? No. Will I? Perhaps. Why bring it up?"

"All human interchange is a test," he said, sipping the cognac. "I
mentioned it because I like it. I thought you might indulge me."

Susan didn't pretend to understand him, but she knew him better than
that. "Oh no, too easy, too glib," she said. "You'll have to come up
with a better- more honest reason than that."

"Touché," he said, raising his glass, "But it is true I like it.
Perhaps more if my partner isn't quite willing, but I'm sure you're
aware of what ambition can drive a person to, even if you are not like
that. Now I propose a compromise. Let me be behind you and what
happens-- happens."

His cock shifted position. It lay along his thigh, but the opposite
thigh it had been resting on. The conversation, or perhaps the subject,
was arousing him. That was to Susan's liking. She was less enthused
about getting fucked in the ass.

It wasn't the act itself. She'd been, unfortunately, unwillingly,
buggered to the point of indifference about that. It was the way Mr.
Lyle II regarded it and the fact that it wasn't going to be good for
her. But he was proposing she leave it up to him. It was her chance to
test him like he tested her.

"All right," Susan said. "But I think we've made ourselves clear on
this, so whatever you do will be deliberate."

He smiled brightly and drained his glass. As he turned to set it on the
side table, Susan rolled to him. When he turned back she was lifting
his cock to her lips to take it in her mouth. There was no need to feel
it flapping against her butt as he tried to get it up by himself. She
might as well find out what he was going to do right away.

She learned more about Mr. Lyle, maybe fell in love a little bit, in
the next hour than she had in all her time at Golden Oaks. She got on
her knees when his cock was hard and waited to see what he'd do.

He put his cock directly on her anus and his hands smoothed the skin of
her rear. It was a feint, but Susan couldn't help her ass jerking up.
He was still resting his hands on her, watching for her reaction when
she mastered her reaction and froze to see what he intended.

They paused, each waiting for the other, for a moment before Mr. Lyle
slid his hand down her torso and out under her breasts. His fingers
hardly touched her skin and when he reached her already erect nipples,
he moved them back and forth teasingly. Bending forward had dislodged
his cock from her asshole and it lay between the lips of her pussy as
he made her nipples tingle.

It felt fine there. Susan wished he'd put it in her and just fuck her,
but she was too proud to ask. He straightened up and fulfilled her
unasked wish, probing for the opening and then pushing his cock into
her. Susan sighed her relief.

"Like that, do you?" he asked as he took long, tip to root, strokes
into her cunt. "Better for you?"

Susan refused to answer. It was up to him. He was the one being tested,
in her mind at least. His hand snaked around her hip. His finger
pressed on the apex of her slit. He wasn't touching her clit, but she
could feel the pressure on it. She felt the heat rise in her body.

He shortened his strokes by half and doubled the speed of his thrusts.
Susan felt her arousal grow. Her breath came faster as he fucked her
toward a climax. It felt so good to feel it. She had missed the feeling
more than she knew.

Then her progress was interrupted for a beat. Lyle took away his hand
and she felt the wet finger on her anus. It was only a beat. He
massaged the round ring and she ignored him for the pleasure of his
cock sliding in and out of her. His other hand replaced the first on
her pussy. She felt the excitement building again.

She barely noticed when he switched hands again. It was old news. Then
everything was a blaze of yellow light.

Lyle had pulled his cock out and driven it into her ass with as brutal
and complete a thrust as could be. Susan was shocked at the thrust, but
a second later she was as surprised by how little it upset her. He was
in her ass all right. That was a huge, imposing fact, but there had
been no chill, no dowsing of her ardor. She still felt warm and
excited.

His finger curled in the top of her slit and seemed to pull her as he
drew his cock back to drive into her ass again. Shem felt that as much
as the cock stuffing her. Even the cock fucking her ass was some
phantom of the cock that had been in her cunt. He was still exciting
her.

She felt the feeling build. She could feel the excitement spreading
from her cunt right out to the tips of her breasts where her nipples
tingled as they swung at the impact of his body on her ass as he buried
his cock in her. Her ass moved to accept him. He thrust faster and she
began to moan. It was good. She wasn't going to deny it.

"What kind if dirty girl cums with a cock in her ass?" Mr. Lyle taunted
her, his finger pulling harder to make her that dirty girl.

It was as if a lightning bolt threw Susan through a wormhole into her
past. She was that dirty girl being butt-fucked by Grimsby and the
others. She was going to cum, she felt it at the edge. What a slut she
was.

"A whore! A slut! I'm a slut!" Susan called out as she felt her cunt
flow in anticipation of the impending climax.

"Take it slut!" Lyle picked up her words without a pause in either his
ravage of her ass or her clit.

He must have cum while she was cumming. She'd been told, in graphic
detail and sneering tone, that her asshole squeezed most pleasingly
when she came. She had done that. She had cum and like a helpless
shipwreck victim clinging to driftwood as her climax was a raging sea
around her.

She'd wanted it, but not willed it. She couldn't escape it as Lyle
added the magic words to his invading cock and his insidious finger in
her slit. It had taken her and, seemingly, him into a powerful orgasm.

He was still behind her, cock in her ass, as she came to this
revelation. He seemed to be waiting for her response. He seemed
satisfied when she groaned and moved.

"It was deliberate," he told her as he dragged his cock from her
asshole. "I meant every thrust of it."

"What about the words?" she asked hoarsely. "You mean them too?"

"Of course," he said easily. "Sex makes things simpler. You told me
what to say."

Susan kept her face bland. She could think of all the reasons for that
she wanted and she wanted to have him tell her none of them. She wasn't
going to ask, or even look like she wondered.

"Sex makes things simpler?" she picked that instead. "Is our
relationship simpler now?"

"Sex is simple when having sex," he recanted, "I should have said that.
It comes down to the virgin and the whore and all women want to be
whores."

She scowled at him. He might be right, but he didn't have to say it.

"I didn't make it up," he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"I've just seen it in practice and know it's true."

"But men never know how big a whore a woman is," Susan said. "The
virgin thing is a man's invention."

"Is this our debate now?" he asked. "I thought we'd talk about how long
and when we can meet. You did say again and I hope you meant in
addition to tonight."

She nodded. She liked the old goat, even better since she'd fucked him.
It was perfect timing, as she thought when she decided to approach him.
He didn't have to suspect she was after his money and she didn't have
to fend off his desire to make it a permanent affair.

"Until I find my assistant," she said. "Then it's over. But until
then... It's not like I'm swamped with other offers."

"Not even Rob?" he asked in surprise.

"I made it clear I was a one-time thing," Susan said. "He's kept to
that, which I find admirable and for the best."

He relaxed a bit. Susan figured he was concerned about his son's libido. 

"And I thought he'd found true love," he said absently. "Pity. You were
a good influence on him."

"It wouldn't work with him any more than with you," Susan said without
thinking. She didn't regret it. They played their parts, but she
thought they understood each other beyond them.

"He's too young, I'm too old? That's so narrow," he said.

She wondered if he didn't get it or if he just wanted to make her
explain. "Different worlds," Susan said. "I don't fit in yours. I'd
feel out of place and you'd be forever making excuses or explanations.
Unless you said it was I have big tits and I think that offends all of
us."

"You'd fit fine," he argued. "The only problem would be that you'd be
bored with gossip and shopping. There's more to you. But if you ever
want to be bored... "

"I'd rather be fucked," Susan said. "And I think you should give me a
call in the pro shop if you want to serve that urge."

He smiled, but she could tell he was thinking. If she thought hard, he
might have been thinking for some time. It seemed he was referring back
some ways when he spoke.

"What about Rob?" he asked. "If you just want fucking, will he serve?"

That was just disturbing. Susan didn't try to hide her opinion.
"Pimping me? I thought you didn't like the sound of it. What am I, the
Lyle's private whore? Do you mean for me to do you one night and Rob
the next? Or have you got what you wanted and are throwing him the
left-overs? Maybe you two can do me together!"

"That would be awkward," he said. "I'm not sure junior is ready for
that kind of father son activity. But you said you just wanted to be
fucked. And Rob is fond of you."

"Wherein lies the problem," she said, cooler now. "It wouldn't be just
fucking. He'd want it to be more."

But the seeds were sown. Perhaps if he'd ignored her banshee wail of
discontent, she might have forgotten it, but he spoke to it. That it
was to dismiss it made no difference. It fixed the idea in her
imagination. It made it all the more attractive for being forbidden. He
had roused the slumbering dragon when he jammed his cock up her ass.
The aftershocks were still stirring in her mind.

Chapter 13 - Happy Family

The immediate problem was keeping the pro shop stocked with
merchandise. Susan had only her own wisdom to call on to guess what
would be snapped up and what would lie fallow and waste her money.
Guessing had never been her strong suit and shaping the store to her
own tastes was clearly inadvisable. Too many members were attracted to
shiny baubles that promised unlikely improvement. It seemed being a
shop keeper was about catering to her customers's lack of sense rather
than trying to help them find any.

She scanned the Pro associations for likely candidates, but she knew it
was busy work. When she found the pro she wanted it would be face to
face. Still, she hoped some name would jump at her, some preternatural
sense would trigger on a resume and give her guidance.

The busy work was to fend off the awful thoughts when her mind was left
to wander. She had little success fighting them with visions of Golfer
Charming who would be her true love, most panty-wetting lover and
bulwark forever after. That only made her feel her time for acting
shrinking.

Golfer Charming would make her feel like a dirty girl, because he was
perfect and she needed it, but with him it would be proper. He'd shame
her, but she wouldn't be ashamed afterwards. That was the best of all
possible worlds, but it lacked something.

It lacked fear. It lacked the real panic that everything could be lost.
How she could need that escaped her, but she felt it like a tumor
growing on her heart. And it would threaten to poison her perfect life
with perfect Golfer Charming, forever. It was fear that could never be
wiped away because the guilty secret would sit like undigested meat in
her bowels.

It was so clear to her, so real, because it came as a vision, unwanted
and beyond her attempts to dispel. She had seen it so often, she felt
it had a reality of its own. It was so vivid she wondered how the
others didn't suspect.

It seemed a phone call wasn't enough. Robert II wanted a progress
report - and to make a date. He preferred to do the
latter in person and Susan thought he must be suspicious of who might
listen in. It was the second time he'd refused to talk about a personal
matter over the phone. She wondered if it was Mrs. Brunner who
eaves-dropped.

One of her ideas was to surprise them both, but there were
counter-indications. It might forge solidarity between the generations,
but it would most likely be against her. She needed a Lyle and the most
powerful Lyle was her best choice. There was also the matter of her
cushy new job and her wishful plans for the future. Lyle II was the
right choice.

The windbreaker wasn't out of place in the weather. It was an 'official'
windbreaker with the Golden Oaks logo and almost like part of the
uniform. And wearing it, even unzipped but carefully closed, covered
her lack or a bra.

"Tomorrow will be fine, but your whore has a request," Susan said to
Robert II's consternation. "You ask so politely if I'm available. Well,
I'm about to fulfill your worst fears and start making demands."

She dropped the windbreaker over the chair in front of his desk and
caressed her breasts. She felt her nipples pucker and pop out and
pinched them deliberately as he stared. Now overtly sexual and
confusingly bold, she continued her pretense of extortion.

"You can have me as you wish, but I want something in return," she put
her hands on his desk and leaned forward so  her breasts, with the
prominent buttons of her nipples, swung out toward his face. "I want
something for the interminable time I have to wait for an old man to
recover."

Her tits were to muddy the waters, prevent him from doing anything rash.
She wanted the hesitation as he tried to guess what kind of blackmail
she intended. The grim set of his face was fine as long as he didn't
start shouting. They stared at each other, Susan ready to interrupt if
he spoke, but he was too accustomed to this sort of approach and was
waiting to hear her demand before he responded.

"I want Rob. I want to be entertained while I wait," she said and Robert
II's confusion deepened.

"Is this a joke?" he asked instantly. "If it is, it should feel more
funny."

"I bet you feel funny enough, in your pants," Susan smirked as she
straightened and smoothed her hands over her breasts to lift them and
then let them drop to jiggle as they settled.

"Seriously, what are you trying to do? I won't be seduced in my office
if that is your intention," Robert II guessed again.

Susan had to admit it might look like that, but she had only wanted to
distract him to keep him from thinking too fast- and to keep his mind
on the subject. She wasn't sure of her approach, or rather, which of a
half dozen might be the most effective.

"Demanding what I want," Susan said. "I suppose I have little enough
leverage to demand, but I'm not asking. I want Rob - as well as you. At
some point I want you together, but that is not my present demand."

"You were quite loud rejecting the idea the last time it came up," he
was trying to make sense of it. "And you were the one to mention it."
he recalled.

"I guess it grew on me," Susan allowed herself a smile. "And I was
responding to something you said."

"That wasn't to share," Robert II was defensive. "Just that Rob... Rob
is enamored of you. Rob respects you. He might even be in love with
you. I just thought... If sex was all it was..."

Susan had found her way in. It might even be helpful, a valuable
service. That was nice as long as it served her needs.

"But then it wouldn't be just sex, would it? And hurt him more when he
found out that was all it was," Susan said. "I think it's a good way
for him to get over me."

"Hurt him all at once and crush his hopes? Convince him the one woman
he's felt that way about is a slut- a whore?"  Robert II was rounding
into form. "What kind of solution is that?"

"A slutty whore's solution," Susan said. "We've had this discussion.
All women want to feel like whores. And did it ruin your life? It
sounds like what happened to you with your eskimo-fucking ex-wife. You
got over it. Rob will get over it - and it's for the best because we
both know what he has is a crush on me, not love."

"Leave Merilee out of it," he snapped immediately and then his scowl
became a look of calculation. "You think playing the whore will make
Rob turn to me for an explanation. The family that fucks together is...
uh... stuck together?"

"I won't be playing," Susan took advantage of his struggle to find a
rhyme to butt in, "I will be a whore. Who else would even suggest this,
let alone do it? That's something Rob needs to see. He can't cling to
some unlikely explanation that it was put on to discourage him. And you
will be the first one he suspects. You're always the one behind
everything."

"A pretty dream," Robert II sat back. "It might even work as you
suppose, but really! I couldn't ask you to do it and you know you
couldn't really. A nice fantasy, that's what it is."

She'd gotten him from adversary to denial. Her job was very nearly done.
At least the convincing part was nearly done. The fun part had yet to
start.

"You're not asking. I'm telling," Susan said, leaning over his desk
again to make her breasts jiggle. "Just because it happens to work out
for you doesn't mean that's why I'm doing it. I'm planning on finding
that mythical prince and maybe I want to have some wild oats sown in me
before I get all happy ever after."

It was more information than she intended to give, but Susan felt it
was the clincher. It was her real reason and Robert II wasn't stupid.
It would fit her because it did. And she didn't mind sharing it either,
because he'd been trustworthy before.

"I don't see how we get Rob to agree," he said.

It was capitulation. He had gone from what if to how. It was all
downhill from there.

"You leave it to me," Susan said. "I'll figure something out."

Chapter 14 - A Slut, A Whore - Nothing More

"Miss Ames? What are you doing here?" Rob III met her in the hall.

It was awkward. Her plan had her naked and just-fucked when she first
encountered him. She considered telling him the truth- that she was
there to fuck his father, but she was afraid he'd run off before she
could come back for him.

"I was hoping to see you," Susan said. "You haven't been around and I
wondered what had happened. Don't need any more lessons?"

She was hoping she had balanced the innuendo with concern so Rob III
couldn't instantly assume anything. She wanted him undecided and a bit
wary. She also wanted him hopeful so he'd follow her into the trap.

"You made it clear the last time," Rob III said dourly. "A good sport
and no more. I wasn't to press you and I haven't. That's what you led
me to believe."

"And that's how I felt - then," Susan said. "But don't you know a woman
can change her mind? Not that I have, but a polite inquiry from time to
time is not pressing. A girl could think you don't want her if you give
up too easily."

"Miss Ames? I thought we decided all this in my office. You don't think
badgering me is going to change my mind, do you?" Robert II said from
the top of the stairs.

She didn't know how long he had been listening or what he meant, but it
was obvious he thought he was helping. She had to make a quick
calculation.

"How do you know it isn't a social call on your son?" she asked. "We're
quite friendly, if you recall."

"Play along," she hissed to Rob III out of the corner of her mouth.

"I didn't know she was coming, father," Rob said to her horror, but
soothed her as he added, "but I will see to it. You can go back to what
you were doing."

Robert II nodded abruptly and scowled his way back to his room. Susan
and Rob III waited unmoving until the door closed.

"So what are you here for?" Rob III asked again. "What were you arguing
with father about?"

"It wasn't an argument, just an idea," Susan began and then broke off.
"And maybe I do want to see you."

She took him by the arm and began to pull him up the stairs.

"Where are you taking me? How can you assume I don't have plans?" Rob
III protested.

"Sorry to interfere if the idea is so disgusting," Susan pretended
offense and released his arm. "Go- have plans then."

"I'm just not sure..." he started and lost his train of thought as she
casually played with the zipper of her top, sliding it down into her
cleavage and back up. "I mean, this was obviously not your intent
coming here."

"So I better stick to that, eh?" she was clearly teasing him. "Perhaps
your father won't mind a different kind of visit than he suspected then."

"If you want him, then go!" Rob III was not amused.

She did not intend him to be. "You're the one I was taking upstairs,
but if you're not interested... " she let that hang.

She'd piled too many factors in front of him to sort out. She could see
his erection pressing against his fly. Sooner or later, she hoped, he'd
give up thinking and go with his urges. She didn't have long to wait.

"Fine!" he said as if granting a huge concession, "I'll go. But just
because I'm a good sport too."

"That's what I want," she agreed and let him walk beside her to his
room.

"You know, kid, I'm sorry if you took what I said the wrong way," she
said in Rob's room.

She was purposefully walking a line between infuriating Rob and
seducing him. Her off-hand talk was balanced by her
pulling the zip of her top to her navel and shrugging it off her
shoulders. By the time she was done, she intended for him to be eager 
to fuck her, but there was still a rough patch to get through.

"But be serious, by the time you can drink, legally, I'm starting to
sag. Maybe not much, but by the time you're introducing me to business
associates, they're talking behind your back," Susan said this as she
dropped the top and skinned out of the track pants she was wearing. "I
didn't want you getting sweet on me. But that doesn't mean we can't
have some fun."

Rob could see the fun as her bra came off at the end of her speech. He
was still standing fully clothed and indecisive as she spoke. She 
looked at him with a shrug and shed her panties.

"You mean just fuck- no strings?" he asked.

She sat on the edge of the bed and pointed at him. "Bingo," she said,
"but you're not dressed for it."

"And it's not like you're going to hold this over my old man, turn up
pregnant or something?" he accused.

She'd gotten him over the infatuation, she could see. Now she had to
deal with the suspicion. She could always laugh and go get laid down
the hall, but that wasn't why she'd gone to the trouble and, yes,
lowered herself to act the way she was. There was still a lot farther
to lower his opinion, but she thought she better fuck him first.

"Use a rubber. It doesn't lessen my enjoyment," she said. "But I'm just
looking for some companionship. What am I, ugly? What's your problem."

He didn't have an answer for that. She figured it was deciding whether
to use a condom that made him so slow getting out of his clothes.

"You're so different," he said as he approached her. "You were so...
elegant before."

"It's the clothes. But I'm not wearing them now. And your attitude has
changed too," she reminded him.

"Well..." he started and didn't go on. "So we just fuck? Just like that?"

"How do you want to fuck?" she asked. "You want to go out in the yard
or something? Because I'm game if you tell me it's all right."

"Umm..." he started and sat beside her. "You'd do what I want?"

"Within reason," she said. "If it's just kinky or a bit wild, ask me. I
might think it's fun. I like surprises, don't you?"

He was going to ask to fuck her in the ass, she knew it. That's what
they all wanted. Her opposition to the idea was that he wouldn't call
her a slut for doing it. It would be all for him and nothing for her,
until she could get Robert II involved.

"Then let's go out into the yard," he said. "That sounds exciting.
There's big lawn out there. We could fuck all over it."

She couldn't question now. He'd proved to have some brains and she
relied on that to trust this yard was suitably closed off from anyone
who might cause trouble. In some dangerous sense it reminded her of her
own back yard so many years before.

It was better that he slung the large towel over his back and walked
along as naked as she was as they went to the back. It was easier with
company. She wondered how many, not including Robert II, peeked out at
them as they passed. She didn't even know how many servants the Lyle's
had, but she knew there had to be some.

The back yard was hedge enclosed and private. The dusk seemed to be
more cover until Rob walked her into the yellow pool cast by a security
light and spread his towel. She wasn't a homing pigeon but it didn't
take much to see he had chosen the ground outside his father's second
story window.

That made it easier, she thought. Rob could have his little moment and
it would seem all the more likely when Robert II reacted to it. The
idea of having both them out on the lawn made her quiver prematurely.
There was still a boy to fuck and objections to reason away.

"You want me to lay down here for you?" Susan asks Rob, not loudly but
at full volume.

"Is that the way you like it?" Rob asks.

"I like it the way that excites you most," Susan explains. "It makes
you work harder and that makes it best for me."

"Then on your knees," Rob says.

Susan has the flash back to her earlier conviction, that what Rob wants
is to fuck her in the ass. She is somewhat surprised when he doesn't.
She is as surprised that he enters her so easily. She is more aroused
than she noticed by being out in the open.

It isn't until Rob is grunting loudly and not fucking her to match that
she has another suspicion. She knew their position was no accident, but
she didn't automatically assume Rob wanted his father to know. He
could be doing it for a secret thrill, but now Susan thinks Rob III is
daring Robert II to come to the window and watch.

That's better than she thought. Rob III might still be resistant to dad
joining in, but he does want him involved in some sense. It makes it
easier for her to convince him when the time comes. It also makes sense
that Rob III doesn't want her to know his intention, hence not facing
the window on her back where she'd see Robert II.

As she is positioned, Rob III can look over his shoulder and grin and
return to his business and she doesn't need know. He has reckoned
without knowing her real plan, but that is as intended. She moves her
ass to encourage him, sure that will make him happy to demonstrate his
prowess and her excitement at it. Rob III should feel he's putting on a
good show.

He isn't doing bad. Sure of the arrangement, Susan can let herself
appreciate hard cock driving into her. She feels it as the start of an
exciting night. However mysterious her response to degradation remains,
she knows she can count on it even when she plans it. That's the good
part of the elusive arousal. She can have her exciting shame without
feeling tarnished the next day.

She doesn't know how Rob III will feel. It's part of the valuable life
lesson she's teaching him. He'll have to figure it out for himself. It
will serve him well in later life, however he figures out the puzzle.

"My father is watching," Rob III hisses to her as he shortens his
strokes and thrusts faster. "He's up in his window."

Susan jolts in genuine surprise. She didn't think Rob would announce
it. She feels the thrill of it even if she suspected it would happen.
Knowing it might and being told it was were two different things. Rob
wanting her to know also made a thrill of a shiver shake her.

"What are you going to do about that?" Susan asked, her breath coming
very quickly in her excitement, making her question breathy with her
panting.

"Nothing now," Rob III grunts, "I can't stop now."

Susan can feel that. As much as Rob shifted to shorter, quicker strokes
when he saw Robert II watching, he is now fucking her just as rapidly
with long, full- length strokes. He is too excited to put it off and
Susan moves her ass to help him climax. She is on fire, almost literal
fire, in the heat of her passion, but aggravatingly, this surge of
passion seems to have broken the progression of the climax she felt
coming.

She feels something, a satisfaction at Rob's pleasure perhaps, as he
humps frantically on her rear before slapping tight and trembling as he
shoots off inside her. It isn't a mind-blowing orgasm, but on the good
side, she is still tingling with the anticipation of an even greater
explosion to come. She is thinking wildly of all the possible ways it
can happen that Rob and Robert will have her together.

"Will you suck it?" Rob III is asking politely, even pleadingly when he
pulls his cock out of her. "I want him to see."

Susan turns around quickly, still on her knees, to get Rob III's cock
in her mouth before it fades. Her willingness to participate is a plus
in convincing Rob III to fuck her with his father, she's figured. Her
quick glance at the window and knowing Robert II is no longer there
doesn't change that.

Rob III thinks he is and her willingness to help him demonstrate
whatever he thinks it is- his prowess, his superiority, her preference
for him- will make him more inclined to listen when one of them,
herself or his father, proposes sharing her. Also, more practically,
it will get him up faster so they can start having her sooner.

"Sexual blackmail, is it?" Susan starts up at the voice which is
fortunate because Rob III jerks forward and would have impaled her
throat if she hadn't. "But wouldn't it have been more effective to
fuck me?"

Susan glances at Rob first. He is uncertain, but she sees happily that
he isn't crumbling. She turns to Robert II, briefly amused at the
picture he must see of her and his son naked on the lawn. Robert II is
in a dressing gown and slippers as if ready for bed. Under the gown,
Susan sees pajama legs so the old man is making the illusion complete.

"You didn't sound like you wanted it. And young men are better fucks,"
Susan says unrepentantly.

"But you made sure I saw you," Robert II accuses.

"That was me," Rob III speaks up, defiant, "I thought you might like
the thrill. You know, see what you can't have."

Susan plops back onto her butt to look back and forth between the Lyles.
The way it's going, she might not have anything to say about them both
having her- as far as Rob III knows at least.

"But she was here for me. She admits it," Robert II says predictably.
"There's a difference between can't have and don't want."

"Then go away while I have her again," Rob III challenges. "You don't
want it. I'll have it instead."

He's too shy to press the point, Susan thinks. There's an obvious point
that Rob isn't commenting on. It's her place, she decides as she says,
"Don't want? Is that a cigar caught in your pants?" 

Robert II actually blushes. Susan can't quite understand, but it is the
perfect reaction. It also points out what she is sure Rob was too
delicate to say.

"Ahh... er..." Robert II blusters very convincingly. "A whore would
notice. See, Rob? That's what she wants."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Susan puts in, seeing Rob
struggle for a retort. "It's obviously what you want too. Be an old
hypocrite. We can see it right there."

Susan's finger comes with half a foot of Robert II's hard-on. He jerks
back like she might touch it. Rob III smiles at his father's reaction. 

"Yeah," Rob finds his tongue, "You want it. And I've had it. You saw
that."

"But you're in no shape now, I see," Robert II turns on Rob III. "I
should fuck her just to prove what kind of whore she is."

It fits. It's effective, but Susan isn't sure if it won't scare Rob III
off. She has to quickly gauge Rob's reaction to see how she should
respond- should one of them ask her for a response. If she's just a
whore, she's afraid Rob will go off and pout.

"Sure. I bet," Rob says. "If you thought you could, you would have
before."

"You don't think I can?" Robert II is doing a good job of acting
enraged, if he isn't enraged, as he throws off the dressing gown,
leaving himself in his pajamas. "You want to see me prove I can?"

Susan is alert to both of them, but can't swivel back and forth without
looking foolish. She sees the restraint in Robert II, as if he is
unsure of his ploy. She looks at Rob and is shocked to see he's looking
guiltily at her. Her surprise shows and Rob responds by holding out his
hands and shrugging apologetically. If she's reading him right, he's
asking her to let the old man demonstrate. It's going better than she
could hope.

"You expect me to..." Susan says in disbelief.

"I don't expect him to, but call his bluff. Please?" Rob asks,
pleadingly.

"Take off the pajamas. Let's see it," Susan says boldly, "Rob says you
can't. I guess I was wasting my time."

She is so near as Robert II pulls off the tunic and then pushes down
the pants. Only having Robert II after Rob III isn't quite what she
had in mind. Think, she berates herself. This part is up to you to
figure out. Figure it out!

"Here then," she turns her rump to Robert II as he approaches. "So I
don't have to see your face."

It was so simple that scolding herself took longer than realizing it.
As she puts her butt up for Robert II, she is turned where she can take
Rob III in her mouth again. It fits her plan and has the additional
benefit of bolstering Rob III's fading resolve. 

She saw his face melting in doubt as it became clear his father was
indeed going to fuck Susan. She hopes her denigrating comment speaks of
her preference for Rob, but she's surer that sucking his cock will be
more effective in keeping him in place at least. 

She can't see his blank acceptance as Robert II enters her or his
growing unconcern as she sucks his cock while his father fucks her.
Robert II is responsible for seeing the seeing the shift and talking to
the boy as he becomes more comfortable with Susan moving off his cock
onto his father's and the reverse.

"She's not a bad sort, she's just a woman," Robert II tells his son as
they fuck Susan together. "No doubt you heated her up and made her
natural urges take control."

"I didn't think you had it in you," Rob III says with a bit of pride
for his father.

"Well, um... yes, a bit strange in front of you, you must understand,
but I couldn't let you think I would cave in to this employee's 
demands," Robert II improvises.

He is fortunate Rob III's cock is in Susan's mouth or he might feel her
teeth at that, even though she knows he is trying to explain how he and
his son might have a reason to fuck the same woman at the same time.
Employee, indeed, she thinks. As if I'd take money for this!

But then the idea makes her cunt gush. No, she isn't a whore, but the
idea is stimulating even when she isn't. She is certainly acting like
one. It makes her tingle all the more.

"Look at the little cunt come," Robert II turns their attention to
Susan.

She is. If not as much before, then all the more when he points it out.
It's an orgasm of a marvelous fullness that shakes her and makes her
quiver as Robert II continues to fuck her. But through the bright haze
that seems to envelop her, she is also much aware of Rob II's cock in
her mouth and that both cocks are possessing her.

It will be one of many, she knows. Already this awareness is making the
next build to crest over her when Robert II does fuck her hard and fast
in his own need. There's no longer any hesitation on either Lyle's part.
She knows that for the moment her own madness has swelled to encompass
them and that she can look forward to ecstasy as she craves it.

She has to take her mouth off Rob to gasp and for fear what she might
do as she cums when Robert is in the short strokes inside her. Her
world does blast open as he grunts without censor and squirts hot cum
in her twat. She first becomes aware of Rob III's rejuvenated cock
poking her face when she recovers.

"Now you," she looks up at Rob III. "It's your turn to prove it."

He looks confused, but it could be reticent. Susan reminds him with her
explanation. "Maybe he saw you before, but he had to do it with you
right here. It's only fair. You feel ready. Don't you want to?" Susan
both demands and asks.

It's become clear how it should go. As one piece fell into place, the
others followed like a procession. She's seen it in her mind and feels
the certainty that is it a true dream. In any case, Rob is the wild
card and she knows how to control him. She makes him lay back and
mounts him.

She lays down and kisses him for a time, not moving on the cock inside
her. Rousing Robert II will not be quicker for starting sooner, she
knows, and easing Rob into acceptance is more important. When she sits
up, she still moves only front to back as she motions for Robert to
stand near enough she can suck his limp cock.

Rob III seems happily lost in the wonder of it all. Susan figures she
is barely noticed in the brave adventure it must seem to the boy. He'll
remember how big her tits were and how tight her cunt, but her identity
will be lost in her physical features. He'll recall more sharply
watching his father's cock get hard in her mouth.

Susan's heart is beating happily at a quicker rate, but she is in a
holding pattern of warm delight as she waits for Robert II's cock to
come erect and delays Rob III's rush to a peak. It is her total
debauching in the future that pops in little sparkles of excitement in
her as she works toward her goal.

Oh yes, total depravity and with a father and son. It makes her
impatient to feel how low and dirty she can be. She tries not to think
of what Robert II might say, what names he might call her, what
accusations he might hurl at her. It is too much to stand waiting for
the event, without tormenting herself with the ecstasy that waits.

She moves a little more as she feels Robert II's cock stiffen. It
doesn't hurt to make Rob a bit anxious, but it is more her own
inability to contain her eagerness that moves her. Rob reaches up to
mold and fondle her breasts as she rides his hard cock. She welcomes
the sensation as she tries to hurry Robert II to erection.

She is terrified as she cums, panicked the contractions of her cunt
will spur Rob off too soon and ruin what she's worked for. Fortunately,
she has kept him far enough away that she doesn't. It is good that
Robert II is hard in her mouth, however, because Rob is trying to fuck
up into her with his surge of arousal. She can manage, she thinks. But
she better get to it.

"Why don't you let me try that, boy," Robert II comes to her aid.

She feels Rob stop moving and feels, like an empath, his doubt and
dislike of his father's interference. She stops too, to give Robert II
a chance to explain.

"I'm not stealing her," Robert II says patronizingly, "When you come
around here, you'll see what I mean. Trust me. And let her get off you."

Susan doesn't think Rob understands yet, but she's impressed with the
way Robert II has managed. She won't have to have any part in it. They
will think it is all their idea, at least Rob III, who is the only
innocent present. It makes her feel like an even dirtier whore to be
used that way. She's flowing as she dismounts Rob and waits for Robert
to lie down.

"See anything of interest, son?" Robert II asks as she settles down on
his cock. Susan melts in an orgasm as he says, "Go on- I'll hold her
down if she tries to fight you."

She isn't fighting. Susan can't help the waves that hit her like
pounding surf. She cums and cums again as Rob III is working his cock
into her tight asshole. Robert II grips her arms as he promised and it
only makes her excitement greater. Robert himself is giving out cries
and moans as her cunt clamps on him. Susan wonders- in a thought like
a fly buzz zipping past- if she will even have to move since she is
cumming so constantly.

"Jesus! Unh! God! Oh! Whoa!" Rob III pants out as his cock drives into
her ass and is grabbed at every move. "She's a tight bitch!" he manages
in one gasp following a surge that takes him nearly to the base of his
cock.

"That's because the slut comes with a cock in her ass!" Robert II pants
out with the resolve of experience, even as he feels the same grip as
Rob.

Fuck yeah! explodes in Susan's head as a bigger orgasm seems to vibrate
through her very core. She feels it shake her more with a tremble than
a clench. She isn't concerned with what either Lyle feels. She is
caught in the tremble, which persists like no orgasm possible could,
but could have no other name. She is insensible with the joy of it, but
somehow still feels the cocks pushed in her from top and bottom.

They are moving and she is blithely unconcerned as she doesn't sense
any connection between the cock forcing open her tight asshole or the
one sloshing in her sheath and the pleasure she feels. She still
quivers with the encompassing passion and the Lyles can feel it,
however unaware she is.

"Damn! She likes it in the butt!" Rob growls as he forces his cock
into the quivering sphincter with as much force as he's ever dared
fucking a cunt.

"The dirty slut likes everything!" Robert continues to pour out the
abuse, hoping to arouse her more, "Fuck her good and hard. She cums
with a cock in her ass and a woman that can do that is a fucking whore!
Fuck the whore's slutty ass!"

Susan would appreciate his effort if she was aware. The cock pounding
in her ass and the one filling her cunt convince her of her status
more than words and she is already as divorced from them in her
ecstasy as a comatose patient is from what is happening around them.
She is floating serenely even as her body is buffeted by the two cocks,
her mind in perfect content as her body bounces and flops and jiggles
and shakes as it is pounded.

"I'm going to..." Rob II warns no one in particular.

"The slut doesn't care. Go on," his father urges.

"Now I'm going to," Robert II says proudly when Rob II has pulled his
cock from Susan's ass and dropped back on his heels.

Susan vaguely feels herself being turned on her back as she floats back
to earth from her fuzzy otherland. There is something warm and wet
between her breasts and she feels them pressed together on it. Robert
II fucks her tits. It's something he's wanted from the first time he
saw them, but something that dropped down the list when given her body
from which to choose. 

He's had the rest, and now, for his son's enlightenment as well as his
own pleasure, he's fucking her tits.

"Cum on her face, dad!" Rob III urges excitedly.

Dad isn't his usual term of address and Robert II notes it in passing
as he rubs between Susan's tits to comply. Maybe she was right about
forging a bond he has just time enough to think before he growls out a
groan and the cum blasts out from between the huge orbs. 

Susan jerks as the first spurt flies in the air to land on her face and
across a instinctively closed eyelid. She tries to limit her reaction
as the next lands on her lips. The rest seem to splash on her chin. She
is newly aware of what is going on and a bit cross to wake up to such a
rude reception. 

"There. That's the jewelry for whores," Robert II says proudly. "A 
pearl necklace."

Susan's bad temper serves her well, as she evaluates later, when she
hustled back through the house to the front door. Robert II's contempt
is so genuine she wonders if it is real as he pushes her to the front
door saying, "Now you've had your whore fun and see what it gets you.
Go on and try to fuck a decision out of me again if you want."

For an instant, Susan fears he is actually willing to push her out the
door naked, but then Rob II throws her clothes down from the top of the
stairs to drape on her. He doesn't hesitate then and throws her out.
She is left to pull on the track pants and zip up the top on the front
step, carrying her underwear in her hand as she gets in her car and
speeds off.

Chapter 15 - Golfer Charming

Her inability to feel the brutal treatment is no blessing when Susan
wakes the next morning. She feels as ravaged as she ever did from
Grimsby's games and her anus might be sorer. It is all she can do to
dress for work under the weight of her shame. She feels betrayed by
herself, who thought she wouldn't feel shame.

Happily, the shame doesn't survive turning her key in the lock of the
pro shop. The discomfort does, but she finds she can deal with that
better- even with a grudging pleasure- now that she remembers it was
all a game and if Rob III thinks she is a dirty tramp, it is no more
than intended.

Her grudging pleasure comes as she lets herself bask in the memory of
her success and the total ecstasy of her total embracing her darkest
side. A great fuck might make her feel warm and cuddly, but she was on
fire last night.

She makes no effort to contact Mr. Lyle II. She is happy to believe he
was acting when he was so nasty to her on throwing her out. There's no
benefit to her to find out differently, so she leaves it at that.
There's enough to do on her own behalf, and it won't do to screw up her
new job.

Even if he was acting, it isn't right to expect him to save her from
her own incompetence. And if he wasn't, there's even more reason to be
above reproach and competent beyond question. It does bother her more
than she's willing to admit, but she doesn't admit it.

She has to explain her absence. She has to secure permission for Wendy,
a caddy who Susan is willing to trust, to tend the store while she's
gone. She isn't looking forward to facing Mr. Lyle II. She isn't that
secure in her belief about him.

"A likely suspect?" Mr. Lyle inquires sharply. "Do you have reason to
think this is the one or is it a fishing trip?"

He has reason to ask. This is an 'official' trip and Susan can use the
Golden Oaks credit card for expenses. She's spending their money and he
has a right to ask. She can't tell his mood, but she thinks this is
good since she thinks his anger would show more.

"I can't say. His credentials are solid, but you know what I've said.
I'll have to feel it," Susan says honestly.

"My interest is purely selfish, you understand," Mr. Lyle II surprises
her. "If he's the one, then that ends all hope."

"You didn't seem interested when you tossed me out naked," Susan
retorts before she thinks.

"Oho! Did you take that personally?" Mr. Lyle II seems gleeful. "I'm
flattered. I never thought I could fool you, never mind that Robbie is
so easy."

"Well, I thought it was an act, but I wasn't sure. It did seem very
real," Susan confesses. "Does that mean you don't want me to go on this
trip?"

"Of course not, but that's just foolish. I don't think there's much
chance of arranging another accidental orgy and I know it's foolish to
try and plan one," he says. "What's more- and more to the point. You
need an assistant and this other foolishness is purely selfish. You
must go and I, with all due regret, wish you well."


Susan knew he was right and had said it very well. A certain part of
her, a certain sore part of her, thought one more time would be nice,
but her head was with Mr. Lyle II. She'd had her fling and it was time
to get to the business at hand.

Roger Effington, despite his country club name, was no more a pampered
child than Susan. He was no more likely to be her assistant either. He
had a better knowledge of the history of golf than anyone was likely to
care about and came highly recommended by former students as an
instructor, but when Susan suggested a round of golf, he talked her
down to nine and she still beat him by five strokes.

No, Turk Jones, no, "Duffer" Marley, no, no, no. It seemed second best
was second best and Susan was about to move on in her southern swing
when Lee Durbin offered to offset her latest disappointment with a
round of golf. He had seen her on one and nine and 10 as she had ripped
off Terrence O'Rork's wheels and sent him showering sparks from his oil
pan in a 7 and 5 trouncing.

He thought she deserved better competition. She thought he was an
assuming rascal, but he was unassumingly handsome and only conceited as
regarded his game. She didn't come to that assessment unaware either.
Mr. Durbin was more than a teaching pro or a scholar of golf management.
He competed on the tour, usually finishing too far back for anyone to
scan down to see his name, but he was actually a competitive golfer.

He wasn't looking for a job, only a good round. Susan was slightly
flattered that he thought she'd give him one, but also conceited enough
herself to think she could take him. Exactly who suckered whom might
still be argued, but Susan avoided a costly lesson by proposing an old
solution: Strip Golf. Match play- win a hole and winner's option to
strip loser or reclaim an article of clothing. Durbin seemed amused by
the idea and accepted.

Susan didn't let herself be concerned as she played in her bra on the
second hole. By the third she thought it was going to be peek-a-boo bra
as her shirt went on and came off again, but Durbin took the fourth and
Susan shed the bra to play topless rather than in her underwear.

She took him even on five and with her win on six she boldly rejected
putting her bra on and made him lose his shirt. Durbin returned her
grin on six when he took seven and Susan was in only her panties. She
wasn't quite desperate, but she was re-thinking her decision to see
Durbin's chest as she played one hole from naked. 

It might be that tying him on eight and nine made her reckless, but
Susan would say it was just her nature to strip Durbin to his underwear
and equal the odds when she took the 10th. They were both one loss from
naked now and that was fine with Susan.

Then Durbin took 11 and grinned as he pondered his decision. Susan knew
he was patronizing her to put on his shorts. It was nice in a way, but
also grating. There were also still seven holes to play and she felt he
was toying with her while pretending to be gallant.

He stopped gallant on 12 and Susan was naked. They hadn't bothered to
keep a regular count and instead of going back and figuring that out
(Durbin +3) Susan suggested they just play. She'd play naked and he'd
play in his shorts. He'd won, she conceded, as difficult as that was. 

It was as much to prevent him from suggesting some other stake on the
remaining holes. Susan was beginning to like him but that was little
reason to let him win the right to fuck her. If that happened, as Susan
was more inclined to consider, it should be from mutual attraction and
agreement. It wasn't until they'd settled that and begun to play again
that Susan remembered her requirement for her assistant: he had to beat
the pants off her.

She was naked. She certainly had lost her pants. The problem was Durbin
was a touring pro and she didn't imagine he'd want to give that up to
be her employee. She even felt shy suggesting that she be his boss
after the way he had handled her on the course.

That was the only way she was shy and Durbin was clearly impressed. She
played as if fully clothed and didn't let what was hanging out, or
swinging, concern her. He seemed to appreciate that more than her body-
after he'd gotten his fill of staring, that is. But as they walked up
the fairway of 15 he had a problem.

"Okay, I've won. You've played three holes completely naked and, not
that I don't appreciate looking, I think you can put your clothes back
on after this hole," Durbin suggested.

"A bet's a bet," Susan maintained. "I didn't make it part of the deal,
but when we play this way at home, walking into the clubhouse as you
are is part of it."

"You play this at home? Where are you from?" Durbin asked.

"Golden Oaks Country Club," Susan said, but then said, "But don't get
the idea it's an everyday thing. It has happened. Three times- okay
twice at Golden Oaks, but three overall, and those're the rules, just
not everyone does it all the time."

"But you were involved in all three incidents?" Durbin smiles knowingly.

"As it happens, yes. But that's not the point," Susan said, eager to
change the subject. "I just don't think I should welch on a bet."

Durbin waited for them to putt out to make another appeal.

"Okay, now dress," he said, "I'm the winner and I say so. Please, put
something on?"

She beat O'Rork on 13 and never got to these holes. She didn't know the
finishing holes took her near three roads, several private homes and,
of course, led to the clubhouse. Susan suspected some other motive than
chivalry. She also intended to press whatever advantage remaining naked
might give her.

"What will you do for me if I do?" Susan bargained.

"What do you want?" Durbin asked, not biting.

"Dinner. And wherever that leads," Susan said provocatively.

She saw what he protected her from as they finished. She pretended not
to, but the understanding made her feel even more toward this man she'd
just met. It was such a pity he wasn't looking for a job. She knew what
dinner was going to lead to from that point. She had a nice room. There
were two queen beds. They could destroy one and still have one to sleep
in.

"Should I wait expectantly or just strip off?" Durbin asked as she led
him into the room. "You're worth watching, but I've had an eyeful and
I think touching might be more fun that looking."

"You never know," Susan said, with a laugh. "I might be a cold fish."

That would be as likely as Durbin not becoming her assistant, which we
all know by now is what's going to happen. So far back no one bothers,
remember? Vagrant life with the joys of freedom, but also living from a
suitcase and the hardships of the road. Set against Susan and a nice,
stable life, and Susan, and a fair income, and Susan- you see where
this is going.

"You don't feel cold," Durbin says as he finally runs his hands over
the breasts he's admired most of the day. The nipples pop up as a sheen
of goose bumps seem to follow his hand. Susan has been no less eager,
anticipating from the moment she knew she was going to fuck him on the
16th hole.

"Try down there," Susan says impatiently, pushing his hand below her
waist.

"Hmmm," Durbin says, not sure what else to say as his fingers feel her
juices before they settle in the gap between her lips. Susan feels the
blush on her cheeks as he discovers how much she wants him. She wanted
him to know so he wouldn't delay, but now he does, her brazenness
catches up with her.

"Yes," she says simply, "So maybe you could do the touching later? When
you can't... give me something else?"

Durbin is nothing but obliging and Susan opens her legs as he climbs in
between them. He might be a bit smug as well as he pushes into her. He
takes her only as she opens to him but that is a smooth stroke and
quickly done. He's a bit more than smug as he fucks her.

"You must want it bad. How did you get through dinner?" he asks.

"In anticipation," Susan sees no reason to lie, "Which is why it's so
easy for you. Now I hope I haven't overestimated. Because smug really
turns a girl on."

Properly chastened, the smile slides from Durbin's lips, only to return
in a more innocent form as he continues to stroke into Susan's greedy
cunt. It's nice in there and he begins to discover Susan anew as more
than just a brash naked woman not afraid of her own sexuality.

He doesn't probe her depth, except the depth of her twat, or solve the
mystery of her complexity. He does see her as a person, however, which
is enough to ask a man balls-deep in pussy. He finds she responds with
the same fire as she competes and feels obligated to more than stick
his cock in her as she comes alive under him. He begins to hope a
little that he can please her because it seems important.

"Now, you wanted to touch?" Susan says as she turns to him after
they've both been pleased.

"Golden Oaks, eh? How did you end up there?" Durbin probes for her
story as his hands probe her body.

It doesn't come up yet. Susan relates anecdotes, lingers on Jerry Burns
and his murderous lover, explains the naked Charity Event and Durbin's
cock comes up first.

"We don't have to, not right now," Durbin says as Susan's hand strokes
his new stiffness. "I'm enjoying your story."

"Sooner the second's done, the quicker the third can come," Susan quips
and pulls him to her. Lee's eyes get wide. He's gotten into something
he hopes he can handle.

He doesn't have much to worry about. What was response before from
Susan's hips becomes demand as she pulls him between her legs and holds
him in with her heels locked over his back. He only thrusts in
self-defense as her thighs seem to toss him in and out as she desires.
It's as much as her being on top to Durbin. He discovers her breasts
are fine handles for him to grip as he's tossed on her hips.

"So what about you?" Susan turns the conversation to Lee. He moans
about that stuff about a hard road and small purses that barely match
expenses. Susan gets a feeling.

"Then work for me," she offers. There's every emotion in the pause. She
realized he fit her requirements while sure he wasn't interested. She
began to like him as they played and fucking him twice hasn't made her
like him less. She still feels like she's made herself naked in a way
that still disturbs her. She's all nerves as she waits for his answer.

"What?" Durbin isn't following along. To be fair, Susan didn't mention
her reason for playing O'Rork so he doesn't know she's headhunting. He
needs more information.

The anti-climax is like a cold bucket of water. Susan is not nervous and
a bit peeved as she has to explain it. Assistant pro, good money,
lessons, stints in the pro shop, and... Susan takes a deep breath.

"And I was hoping the new pro would move in with me," Susan says.
"That's not firm, but... well, I wouldn't have any problem with it if
you accepted."

"So, no rich old lady pussy?" Durbin automatically becomes an asshole
confronted by the offer.

"As much as you can get," Susan snaps, "But then no more of mine."

"I was kidding," Durbin says weakly, "It's just not an offer I hear
every day and not after only one day."

"No you weren't," Susan gives him no slack, "And just because of what
you said. It's sudden. I should give you time to think about it.
Unfortunately I don't have much, but the offer is open until I find
someone. Or you prove you are an asshole."

Durbin is thinking. Susan doesn't help. She reaches down between then
to wrap her fingers around his cock and stroke it.

"Fucking me again doesn't depend on your answer. That's mandatory," she
tells him. "The country club is paying a bunch for this room and I want
my money's worth."

Is she a sly bitch or is it, as she says, just for variety? We know
it's not a special treat in any sense for Susan, unless Durbin is going
to unexpectedly figure her out and call her names, but is that enough to
conclude that she's trying to influence him by taking it in the ass? She
has had him twice and it is possible she wants to see how he is on an
alternate route.

"Are you sure?" Durbin asks.

"Why? Remind you of prison?" Susan is a bit sharp at his reticence. She
said to. He should know she doesn't say things without meaning them by
now. And his hesitation does make her nervous that she's revealed
herself to be too bold for him.

"All right," he says and guides his cock to her hole. He feels like an
idiot for thinking there was a reason to balk. Her asshole opens
smoothly, not to say easily, as he puts pressure behind it. He isn't
the first, or probably the fifth man that's fucked her ass. This makes
him smile.

It's hard to put his finger on what it is about her, but there's
something all right. She plays games, but not woman games, and games
she winkingly admits. She's almost like a buddy, but a buddy with huge
tits and a fuckable disposition that he is only beginning to appreciate
as her asshole squeezes around his cock.

"You want a man back here?" Durbin asks.

"I don't know what the fuck that means, but try it and I'll let you
know," Susan shoots back.

He means hard, fast and deep. Susan lowers her shoulders to let him in
better and grunts as he fucks her ass. It's kind of ordinary, but also
a few nasty names from being good. She hopes he likes it, but thinks
he'd like it better slower, with longer strokes. She keeps her superior
knowledge to herself and lets him do what he wants. He isn't being mean
about it and that's a point in his favor.

They're in the shower the next morning when he brings it up.

"I don't get moving in," he says, "How did you figure that out?"

"Silly romantic notions. I said it was negotiable," Susan reacts to
having to answer while his hands were making her dreamy soaping her
breasts. "Believe it or not, I'm not attracted to leering old men and
opportunities for sex are few and far between."

"So you thought you'd get a bed buddy and an assistant in one package,"
he says.

"The 'bed buddy' would be getting laid too," Susan says a bit irritably. 

"Don't snap like that," Durbin scolds her, "I'm just getting my head
around it. And the hard part is why you think I can fill the opening-
all of them. I know I'm pretty, but I don't get that many offers
myself."

Susan looks at him. His dick has been hard for five minutes and she's
been waiting for him to put it in her. She begins to see he's not slow,
just honestly confused. That's sweet, as is the indication his dick
doesn't run his head.

"Then trial period, or make an offer," Susan says. "I'm serious about
both offers. We don't know each other but you haven't seriously pissed
me off and that's a good start, I think. The pro offer is a slam dunk.
I said the guy had to be good enough to beat my pants off and you did
that. You being on the tour... The Board will eat that up."

"You were seeing how I measured up the whole time I was staring at your 
tits," he says in amusement.

"Of course. I guess that's why I should be head pro and you be the
assistant," she shoots back.

"We'll see about the head part in a minute," Durbin says, spinning her
under the warm spray and finally pushing his cock into her from behind.
Susan sighs happily and puts her hands against the wall to let him fuck
her.

Chapter 16 - Echoes of the Past

"You fucking slut!" Durbin's hand misses by a foot, but Susan jerks back
anyway.

It's the first time she's seen the angry face he wears and certainly
the first time he's tried to slap her. Spank her is one thing, but
slapping her face is another.

"Take off those clothes! Whores like you should be naked!" Durbin cocks
his fist and holds it.

Despite herself, Susan's fingers fumble with the two buttons on her
polo shirt before she pulls it over her head. She throws off the bra
like it's stinging her and puts her thumbs inside her panties as she
pushes her shorts to the floor. There's something funny about his
physical threats, but there's nothing funny about the look on his face.

"You see this?" he asks wrathfully, holding up a disc box. "Get over
there!" he points to the floor past him.

She slaps her ass hard as she skips by him. Susan is more than jumpy
about his mood. She isn't sure if it's some game or a side she is
seeing for the first time.

"On your knees, bitch! On your hands and knees! Don't face me! Look
away!" his orders come like shots as she drops down and faces away. Her
ass feels vulnerable pointed at him and she braces unconsciously for
him to hit her again.

"Now look at what I've had to see!" he tells her and clicks on the
television. She feels his hand cover her from behind and his fingers
aren't strictly gentle as they saw in her slit. Her eyes are glued to
the screen as the picture comes up.

"Look at the little cunt come," Robert II's voice comes over the
speakers.

She knows what it is and what comes next. She grunts in discomfort as
Lee's finger pushes into her. He fucks her with it as she watches
herself cumming on the screen. Lyle II will cum in her. Lyle II will
lay down and she will mount him. She will suck Lyle II's cock. She
remembers it all. She isn't excited to relive it. She's too concerned
about Lee.

Lee pushes ahead. She sees herself suck at quadruple speed. His finger
is more irritating inside her, but she is responding because her pussy
wants to protect itself.

"Why don't you let me try that, boy," Robert II says when the motion
goes back to normal.

"You let everyone try it, don't you?" she hears Lee accuse her. He
thrusts his cock in her and pushes until he's tight against her ass.
She doesn't know how to react.

She wishes he wasn't seeing as Rob gets behind her and pushes his cock
in her ass. Lee's not saying anything and Susan is shaking in fear.
She's ready to cry at the final humiliation. Lee locks the replay into
a loop. He begins to fuck her as it plays.

"Damn! She likes it in the butt!" Rob growls as he forces his cock into
the quivering sphincter with as much force as he's ever dared fucking a
cunt.

"The dirty slut likes everything!" Robert continues to pour out the
abuse, hoping to arouse her more, "Fuck her good and hard. She cums
with a cock in her ass and a woman that can do that is a fucking whore!
Fuck the whore's slutty ass!"

"Take it whore!" Lee adds in the pause as the head goes back to let Rob
say how she likes it in the ass again.

Susan breaks down. She can't take this. The past has come to haunt her.
She can't even think who might have done this to her. She collapses in
tears.

The tv stops. Lee stops. He is beside her with his arm over her.

"What's the matter? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean it," Lee
seems ready to cry himself.

She looks up taking rasping breaths, the tears still on her cheeks.
"You were joking?" she howls.

"I thought you'd like it. It came today in an unmarked package. Yes, I
was joking. I didn't mean to upset you," Lee tells her. "It was a
surprise. I didn't know that stuff about you. I thought you'd get all
hot being fucked and hearing it again."

It makes Susan pause. She gets to her knees, thinking. Then she sees
Lee's worried face and pulls him to her for a sloppy kiss. "I'm just
wondering why it didn't," she says weakly.

She's also wondering about her tears. She didn't cry when Grimsby
abused her, not even when he brought friends and shamed her into the
realization it excited her. She was tougher than that. Why did she
cry now?

Why was she so frightened when Lee confronted her. He wasn't that good.
The slap was so obviously meant to miss. How could she mistake that? It
was funny upon recall, but she was terrified. And then her shame? She
reacted like a normal woman to it, not the woman she knew she was.

"I think I love you," she says sadly to Lee.

"Only think?" he asks.

She explains. He sees it now. He doesn't understand why she is so upset.
He might think he loves her too. It's no reason to cry.

"But I don't want you to feel obligated," she says.

"Don't worry about me. I'm an asshole, remember," Lee says. "I'll feel
what I feel and feel free to feel what you do. The only thing that is
changed is that I better think more before I surprise you."

That makes sense. Susan feels better, except she's even more certain
she loves him now. It'll pass, she thinks hopefully.


The Ames and Durbins were a last swipe. Mr. Lyle II laughs as he says
his response was to order copies to give out at Christmas. He isn't in
the habit of recording his prowess, but when evidence comes into his
hands, he is glad to share it.

The butler wasn't even arrested, only sacked and sent off with no
prospects. He could find menial employment if he moved far enough away,
but his chances of serving another household were dim indeed. His
stupidity deserved no more Mr. Lyle says, any real crime carried out
with so little brains will quickly see the man in jail and, despite his
bold assertion, he prefers the incident remain a rumor rather than fact.
It's pleasing as a rumor.

Having to face Lee while explaining is a bit more unpleasant.

"Who wouldn't want to have her?" Lee relieves the tension, "And as she
says it was specifically to satisfy the urge so she could be true to me,
I can't fault you."

"She didn't even know me- even who I might be," Lee says when Mr. Lyle
II looks unconvinced.

"He's having me make it up to him," Susan adds wryly. "You part in it
is miniscule compared to what he's demanding, believe me."

That is very true, but Susan's supposed reticence is a sham. It's like
sharing, however it came about and however reluctant Susan had been to
reveal it. She does feel better about it being in the open, now that
she sees Lee can accept it.

It's like the spanking thing referred to in passing. He brought his
kinks and she has hers. It's just a bit painful when they come
together.

"Damn! She likes it in the butt!" Rob growls as he forces his cock into
the quivering sphincter with as much force as he's ever dared fucking a
cunt.

"The dirty slut likes everything!" Robert continues to pour out the
abuse, hoping to arouse her more, "Fuck her good and hard. She cums
with a cock in her ass and a woman that can do that is a fucking whore!
Fuck the whore's slutty ass!"

Lee no longer needs the loop. He's sliced it up and assembled his own
cut. He's put Robert II's: "Look at that cunt cum!" into the mix as the
two Lyle's hump Susan in both holes seamlessly over and over.

He likes to play it while he tells Susan that he needs to beat the evil
from her soul. And it plays on as he tires of slapping her jiggling ass
and rams his cock in her. He doesn't have to tell her she's a slut. She
can feel it and Robert II is telling her over and over.

It is a bit painful, but only when she wants to sit on her stool in the
pro shop. At the time, she's cumming too hard to be aware of where she
is, let alone something so minor as a flaming ass and a cock reaming
it out.

Not that they do it every night. No one needs that. Mostly its the
boring: Hmmm? Ummm. and the nice slap, slap, slap of just getting it
done. It's surprising how satisfying boring can be, done right. If they
want a thrill they can play strip golf and Lee can fuck her in the
shelter on the 12th hole. It isn't seemly for the head pro to walk into
the clubhouse naked.

But wait for the Charity Event this year. Lee has an idea and it may
top the last year's event. Everyone is sure the folks at Emerald Glen
won't be able to top it.
###