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Subject: "Golfing Vacation" Part 1 by Heatheranne (mf, teen, wife-cheat, mast)
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I didn't write this story, Im just posting it. If you have comments send them
to the author through alt.sex.stories. Storiesman
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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: golf1.txt (mf, teen, wife-cheat, mast)
Authors name: Heatheranne (Address withheld)
Story title : Donna's Summer Golfing Vacation
March 1999
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This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1999.
Please do not remove the author information or make
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Donna's Summer Golfing Vacation Part 1
by: Heatheranne
Donna ran to the front door when she heard the bell
ring. She opened the door. John, her boyfriend, stood
there with a seductive smile, "What's up babe?"
Donna smiled back, "Mom and Dad went to the mall. Their
night to shop and eat out."
"Way to go good old mom and dad."
John stepped inside and pushed the door closed. He
wrapped his arms around Donna's slim waist and kissed
her hard. She kissed back until she had to pull away
to catch her breath. Donna could feel his hard-on
growing against her hip. As John kissed her cheek and
then her ear, Donna giggled, "You can't be all that
horny. How many times did we do it last night, three?"
John grabbed Donna's hand and pulled her toward her
bedroom. "I did it three times. God only knows how
many times you came. And I bet you're hot for some
more."
Donna resisted his pull a bit. "Don't be in such a
hurry. Don't you want to eat something or watch TV
first?" Watching TV was their code for making out
and heavy petting. Donna liked to cuddle first.
John acted as if didn't hear or didn't care. He just
pulled on Donna's arm until they were in her bedroom.
"Come on Donna, you know you want it just as bad as
I do." John threw her on the bed, and then piled on
beside her.
"Damn John, we've got time, don't go so fast." Donna
was about to get pissed at John. She didn't like it
fast and rough. She would have to admit though, that
she liked sex. In fact, she liked it a lot. John had
been her first and only lover, but even before him
she'd been no stranger to orgasms. Unlike most girls,
she'd found that erotic sensation easy to come by from
an early age. And she'd discovered that sex with John
multiplied those sensations ten fold.
They had been sophomores for their first sexual en-
counter, and now they were just days away from gradua-
tion. For most of her life Donna had been the tall,
self conscious, awkward girl in class. The one who was
always seen stooped over when walking in the school
halls, trying to blend in with her friends. Girl
friends that is, the boys didn't want to have anything
to do with a female who towered over them.
Then, the summer after her freshman year, Donna blos-
somed. Her five foot ten stick figure suddenly became
curvaceous. A summer in the sun gave her body a tan
and added blonde highlights to her light brown hair.
Donna should have noticed the heads of numerous horny
teen males turning her way that school year. If she
had waited a while, Donna would have found the boys
buzzing around her like the proverbial bees around a
beautiful flower, but John was the first to approach
her, and he blocked the other guys from her view.
John was one of the cool, in crowd. Good looking and,
importantly, taller than Donna, the inexperienced girl
was overwhelmed when John turned his sexy smile her
way. It came to be that they had more in common than
only a physical attraction, but the non-physical mat-
tered a lot more to Donna than to John.
John rolled over and kissed her, jamming his tongue in
her mouth. His hand went under her tee shirt and cupped
one of Donna's breasts, rolling the nipple between
thumb and forefinger. For a few seconds Donna resisted
his rough groping, but then her body betrayed her. The
heavy, warm, wet feeling began to gather between her
legs, and she started to respond. She began to suck on
John's tongue and tug at his shirt. Her mind told her
not to encourage his behavior, but her body was begin-
ning to anticipate another thrilling orgasm.
"Yeah, that's my girl," whispered John in her ear.
Donna could only moan in response. John jumped up. He
had his clothes off in a second, and then he rolled a
condom over his hard cock with practiced ease. Donna
watched John's sheathed cock head bob and weave in the
air as he reached down and tugged off her shorts and
then the wisp of panties she was wearing.
John crawled back on the bed, pushing her legs apart.
Grabbing his cock, he bent it down and pushed open
Donna's pussy lips. In one shove he buried his cock as
far he could into her warm clinging wetness.
Donna squeaked in protest. She may have been aroused,
but she wasn't ready for this indelicate treatment.
She started to ask John just what in the hell was
going on, but he covered her mouth with his, stuck his
tongue nearly into her throat, and began to drive his
hips back and forth.
For two minutes John pounded away, scooting their
bodies across the bed. Despite her initial pain, Donna
was beginning to feel the first budding sensations of
her orgasm when John suddenly shuddered and groaned in
her arms.
Donna knew that he was filling his condom. Maybe not
filling it, she thought. After cumming three times the
night before, John must be pretty well drained.
Suddenly, without so much as a kiss on her cheek, he
was off the bed and into the bathroom. Well, Donna
thought, at least he got that out of his system. She
would have her fun on the second go around. John's
sexual technique could best be described as enthusi-
astic and full of stamina.
But when he came back into Donna's bedroom, John
didn't jump back on the bed, he began to get dressed.
"Listen babe, we have to talk."
Donna's face turned red, and not from sexual passion,
"You're damn right we do, if you think you can rush in
here for a quickie just to get your rocks off then..."
"Donna," he interrupted, "I'm not going to Ellington."
"What?" Donna's anger turned to amazement. They had
planned on going to Ellington College together for over
a year. It was a small, academically exclusive and very
expensive school. They both had satisfactory grades and
money was no problem for Donna's parents, but John was
going to have to depend on winning a golf scholarship
to pay his tuition. Ellington had an outstanding golf
team, whose quality was all out of proportion to the
size of the school. They had their pick of golfers, but
John was a hell of a player, and Donna felt that he
could win a scholarship.
"The coach at State offered me a partial scholarship
and I'm going to take it. I hear that the coach at
Ellington had a heart attack and they wouldn't be
deciding on scholarships until late this summer. If I
wait until then, I might be left with my dick hanging
out," he pulled up the zipper on his pants, "so to
speak." John reached for his socks and began to put
them on.
Donna stood up, hands on hips, not the least concerned
with her state of undress. "But that'll put us hundreds
of miles apart. What about our plans?"
"Look babe, we've had a good run, but this'll mean long
separations ... and ... and I think we ought to call it
quits." John finished with his socks and reached for
his cross trainers, but before he could touch the shoes
Donna reached down and scooped them up.
"Call it quits, huh?" Her voice was low and quiet and
menacing. In fact, for the first time in her life,
Donna knew what "seeing red" meant. It was as if a
sanguine mist was filling the room. Her face was so red
and flushed; she could feel her pulse in her cheeks.
"You come in here, practically rape me, and then an-
nounce a break up?" she said, barely above a whisper.
"You're not even willing to put out even the slightest
effort for our future?"
John had completely misread her tone of voice just like
he'd misread her feelings for him. "Put out? Yeah, for
two years I put out plenty of stuff for you, babe."
John patted his crotch with a smug smile. "Now, can I
have my shoes?"
Donna broke. "Shoes!" she screeched. "You son of a
bitch! I'll give you fuckin' shoes" Donna was no mean
athlete; she gave John one of his shoes just as hard
as she could give it. She swung the shoe at his head
with all the force she could muster with her legs,
hips and shoulders.
The shoe whipped off an upraised hand, that John had
barely managed to get in harms way, then the shoe
ricocheted into his forehead hard enough to leave
tread marks.
Whacked into the reality of what he had brought out in
his now very former lover, John leapt off the bed, one
hand over the growing welt on his head.
"Damn, Donna..." He looked up, saw the look in her eyes
through the hair that was lying wildly over her face.
He began to back away through the bedroom door. Donna
stalked him through the house like some sort of animal
warning an intruder out of its territory. When John
got to the front door he said, "OK, I guess you can
keep the shoes."
As John turned to open the door, Donna launched one of
the shoes at the back of his head. John yelped in pain
as it connected. He turned to retrieve his shoe. When
he bent over, he made the mistake of taking his eye off
his attacker and the other shoe bounced off his head.
John managed to grab his other cross trainer, but as he
backed out of the house, fumbling with his shoes, Donna
screamed and charged the door. She slammed it shut and
felt a satisfying thunk as the door hit John in the
ass. She brushed the hair out of her face, folded her
arms under her breasts, sighed and walked away from the
door. Donna managed to make it back to her bedroom just
before the tears came. She fell face down on the bed
and gave in to her emotions.
One morning three weeks later...
Donna dragged herself into the kitchen for breakfast.
At school and out in public Donna had put on a brave
front. She'd gone through her high school graduation
all smiles and acting as if John's leave-taking hadn't
affected her at all.
But at home she spent her time in bed or curled up on
the couch watching old movies on TV. This morning she
was eating cold cereal while vacantly starring at the
cereal box and wondering how they made those kernels of
corn into flakes, when her mother came in.
"Morning dear," said her mom, pouring coffee.
"Hi Mom."
"Sleep well?"
"Not really," Donna sighed.
Her mother sat down at the table. "Donna, I haven't
seen you this depressed since ... well, I don't think
I've ever seen you this depressed. So, I called Cousin
Randy last night. He said that you were welcome to
come any time and stay as long as you want. He'll even
get you a job at the club."
For several long moments, Donna stared at her mother,
her eyes barely peering over the top of the cereal box.
Randy was a distant cousin, whom Donna hadn't seen in
years. She vaguely remembered him as being a tall,
good-looking man with dark hair and eyes. Recently he
had become the general manager of Ellington Country
Club, a private golf and tennis club.
It was no coincidence that the college she was going
to attend and the club had the same name. The members
of the board of directors of the club were all Elling-
ton College alumni, and their course was the home for
the college golf team.
Donna had been planning to spend a week of her summer
vacation with Randy and his wife Michelle. She was
going to visit the college in order familiarize herself
with the campus and surrounding area.
Donna stood, walked slowly to the sink, rinsed her
cereal bowl, put it in the dishwasher and then went
over to her mother. "Mom, you know how I really resent
it when you interfere with my private life?" Her mother
nodded. "Well, this isn't one of those times." Donna
smiled and bent over to hug her mother. "I think it's
a great idea. I'll get away from here before I start
to get moldy."
Two days later Donna loaded her little two seat Miata,
left her mother waving good-bye, and headed across the
state for Ellington. After a few hours of driving,
Donna even felt as if she were leaving her feelings for
John behind. He was a jerk. Albeit a good looking jerk
who could electrify her pussy.
Donna shook her head violently. She couldn't think that
way. She was young and good looking. All she had to do
was make herself available and she could have her pick
of men for a satisfying, mature relationship. Or her
pick of nice warm, hard cocks if it came to that.
Following her mother's written directions, Donna pulled
off the interstate, followed a four-lane road into the
town of Ellington and then, a couple of miles later,
turned onto Country Club drive. She found the proper
driveway and turned in. "Holy shit!" was all Donna
could say when she saw cousin Randy's home. The drive
swung in front of an enormous house. Donna figured that
her own home would easily be lost behind one of the
wings of this mansion.
Donna braked her car to a stop under a portico. As she
got out of the car the front door opened and a handsome
couple in casual dress came out. Randy looked as she
remembered him: thin, good looking, dark hair with just
a bit of gray. Michelle was a few inches shorter than
Donna. She was pretty with brunette hair and a slim
figure.
Everyone said their hellos and traded hugs. Randy grab-
bed Donna's bags and led her to her room. "I can't get
over your house," said Donna.
"You like our little hovel?" kidded Randy.
"It's not ours," said Michelle. "It was the original
Ellington home. The Ellington that built the college
and country club, that is. His will says it has to
remain as is for about twenty more years. So the
country club board rents it out or makes someone like
us caretakers."
It turned out that her room was an entire suite. One
she was delighted to retire to after a quiet dinner.
She'd no sooner lain down on the king size bed than
she fell, exhausted, into a deep sleep. She couldn't
believe it was already the next morning when the alarm
woke her in time to go to work with Randy.
After breakfast, it turned out that getting to work
consisted of a ride in a golf cart. The Ellington
house was right on the golf course and Randy often
commuted to work using his private cart. As they
rolled down one of the fairways Randy said, "I'll
show you around the grounds today." He stuck a point-
ing finger right under Donna's nose and said, "One
golf course," as if it were something for her to check
off a list. Donna giggled.
"Oh good, you can laugh," Randy smiled at her. "Last
night, I was beginning to wonder."
"I'm sorry," said Donna. "I was just worn out after
all that driving yesterday."
"Not to mention emotional stress."
"Oh God," said Donna. "My mother didn't bother you
with my troubles, did she?"
"She did mention someone named John. I think her des-
cription was: 'He's an insensitive great galloping
asshole'."
Donna giggled again, "Yeah, it's too bad she didn't
tell me that when John and I first met. Not that I
would have listened."
"Don't worry," Randy patted her knee, "we'll keep you
too busy to dwell on past boyfriends."
"Great!" said Donna, surprised that she felt a warm
tingle in her leg where Randy's hand had squeezed.
That day passed in pretty much a blur of faces and
names and places. They weren't back home until nearly
seven and by nine o'clock that night Donna couldn't
keep her eyes open. She fell asleep, fully clothed,
on the bed while watching "90210" and woke up during
Dave's top ten list.
Donna decided that she better officially go to bed,
so she changed into her favorite sleep shirt. It was
a short, threadbare thing that her mother had given
her years ago. She was about to crawl back into bed
when she realized that she needed something to drink.
She could get water in her bathroom, but she wanted
something with flavor. Maybe, she thought, there was
orange juice or something in the kitchen.
Donna made her way into the kitchen without turning
on any overhead lights. There were night-lights at
intervals through the house. The kitchen was so big
she had to actually hunt for the refrigerator among
an expanse of stainless steel. But when she did find
it, there was a carton of orange juice waiting. De-
ciding that if no one was looking, then neatness
didn't count, she drank two gulps from the carton and
put it back.
Donna left the kitchen and tried to walk through the
shadows back to her room. Only she made a wrong turn
and got lost. She tried to back track, and she thought
she had found her room when she saw a crack of light
under a door and heard a TV. She almost opened the
door, but stopped when she realized that the voices
she'd heard were from Randy and Michelle, and not her
television. Donna stood quietly in the hall and
listened.
"My God Randy, what are you doing?" Michelle's voice
came from their bedroom.
"What's the matter? Never seen a guy jack off before?"
There were a few seconds of silence then Michelle said,
"Not tonight Randy, please."
"It's been a while honey."
"I know Randy, please, it's just a phase."
Donna heard the creak of bedsprings. "I guess I'll just
have to sublimate my desire for sex into food. Want a
snack?"
"No ... no thank you."
Donna realized that Randy must be headed for the
kitchen. She ran on tiptoe until she could step into
the shadows. She waited and watched as Randy passed.
He was wearing bikini underwear and nothing else. Donna
couldn't help but notice a pair of firm buttocks and a
healthy bulge in the front of those shorts. Obviously
he hadn't yet completely lost his erection.
Donna thought about following those cute buns, but then
she reconsidered. It would be stupid to try anything
with an older man who was also her cousin; not to
mention that his wife was in the same house. It would
be better if she skirted the kitchen and went back to
her bedroom.
She was quietly making her way through the formal
dining room next to the kitchen when she solidly
whacked her shin into a chair, sending it screeching
across the floor. Shit, thought Donna. There's no use
pretending I'm not here. I better go in the kitchen,
grab something to drink if he's still there, and leave
as soon as possible.
Randy walked into the kitchen. He wasn't really hungry.
What he was, was horny. He didn't know what was up with
Michelle, but they hadn't fucked in a month. Randy
leaned against a counter. He might as well jerk off.
That was the only sexual release he'd get tonight.
Randy pulled his bikini briefs down a bit and his cock
swung free. He began to slide his hand along the shaft
and over the sensitive head. He hadn't done this in a
while, but it wasn't like he'd forgotten how. Hmmm, he
thought, that Donna sure was cute. Not that he would
actually try anything, but he could fantasize about her
pretty face and hair and those pert tits, couldn't he?
Screech. There was a noise from the dining room.
"Damn," whispered Randy, Donna must be running around
the house, and here he stood, half-naked, with an
erection. Randy headed for the door. It wouldn't do to
have Donna see him like this. He could just imagine
Michelle and Donna whispering to each other, having a
good laugh at his expense. He'd rather skip that blow
to his male ego, thank you very much.
Naturally, he and Donna crashed together in the doorway.
Randy had moved so fast his still exposed cock poked
into Donna's pelvis and slid up to her belly button.
They both jumped back. "Oh! You scared me," they said
in unison.
Randy turned away and tried to stuff his erection back
in his shorts. He crossed his hands in front of his
crotch and leaned, as nonchalantly as he could manage,
against the kitchen counter. Clearing his throat
nervously, he asked, "Donna, what are you doing up?"
As she slid past Randy, trying to maintain eye contact
and not glance down, Donna said, "I just wanted some-]
thing to drink." Donna took a glass and went to the
refrigerator. She opened the door and stood there as
she poured the juice. "Want some?" she asked.
Randy shook his head, but his body was screaming 'Yes!
Give me some of that luscious body'. The light from
the refrigerator turned the thin sleep shirt translu-
cent, and Randy had a perfect view of the outline of
her firm, high tits, long legs and cute ass.
Donna's hands trembled as she drank the juice. Talk
about your awkward situations. Why didn't Randy leave?
Was he going to stand there with his hard-on and watch
her? Was he afraid to move or was he getting turned on?
What the heck, thought Donna? She put her glass in the
sink and then looked at Randy. She gave him what she
hoped was a seductive smile and walked up to him. He
didn't protest as Donna put her hands on his and drew
them away from his crotch. He gulped as she pulled out
the waistband of his shorts and grasped his cock.
Donna knew that at this point John, her jerk-faced
former boyfriend would have put his hand on her head
and pushed her down saying, "Suck it baby, suck it."
But Randy just leaned back, thrusting his now leaking
cock into her hand. Donna stroked him steadily. In
less than a minute Randy's hips bucked and Donna felt
the hot gush of cum on her hand and arm.
Without a word Randy took some paper towels and cleaned
the evidence of their little tryst. When he was through,
Randy took Donna by the hand and said, "That was in-
credible, honey. I was beginning to wonder if I was
becoming repulsive to women or something." He gave her
a brief smile and then turned serious, "But we can't
do anything like this again, ever. Understand?"
Donna nodded her head, kissed him lightly on the cheek
and returned to her room. For a second she considered
masturbating, but then she realized that she wasn't so
much excited as she had a warm fuzzy feeling. For the
first time since John had left her, Donna felt really
good about her sexuality.
Donna spent the next few days looking around Ellington
College and the surrounding area. She even spent a day
with Michelle at her real-estate office. But she found
the woman to be down right condescending and not much
fun to be around.
Donna had about run out of things to do on her own when
Randy offered her a job at the club. He introduced her
to the dining room supervisor, who in turn put her
under the wing of a lady named Sally.
Donna's job was to be a server in the club's dining
room in the evening. It turned out there was much more
to the job than she had assumed. She followed Sally
around like a puppy for several nights.
The woman managed to keep up a running chatter about
the people they worked with, her family and all the
little duties and tricks-of-the-trade that a server
needed. After a while the seeming disorder and chaos
of the kitchen and server's station began to make
sense and Donna became one of the crew.
Donna enjoyed her routine. She got to sleep until late
morning, and then she had until mid-afternoon for
herself. She went to work at four and she was usually
off by ten. Sometimes she had a girl's night out with
some of her coworkers. They would sneak her into some
evening spot and then buy her drinks. Donna would
giggle and laugh her way into the early morning hours
with her pals.
Early one afternoon Donna took her paycheck and tips
and decided to buy souvenirs from the Ellington Country
Club for her parents. That meant a trip to the club's
pro shop. They carried plenty of men and ladies'
clothing with the club's logo. It also meant having to
deal with the club's head golf pro, Jerry, a man who
was known to the female wait staff as 'a legend in his
own mind'.
He would never say or do anything that could be con-
strued as sexual harassment, but Jerry managed to hit
on nearly every female employee with whom he came in
contact. Donna had never used the word 'smarmy' in
her whole life, but it certainly came to mind when she
saw Jerry. He was a slightly overweight man, in his
late thirties, standing five and half feet tall. He
had thinning, dirty blonde hair, and a mustache that
managed to only discolor his upper lip rather than
define it.
Donna was browsing through some shirts when Jerry came
over. He got close enough to invade her personal space
and spoke in ingratiating tones, "Hello Donna, can I
help you with anything?"
She moved as gracefully as she could to put the clothes
rack between them. "Oh don't bother with me. I'm just
looking for something for my parents."
As Donna re-hung a shirt at which she'd been looking,
Jerry reached across the rack to pat her arm with a
clammy hand and said, "OK honey, if you want me ...
for anything, let me know."
Donna smiled, "I'm sure I'd like something a lot
younger." Jerry gave her a funny look. "In style I
mean," she said, holding up a shirt.
At that moment Randy came in the shop. Jerry excused
himself to speak to his boss. The two men discussed
business for several minutes until Donna's browsing
brought her near.
Randy called her over, "Doing some shopping?" he asked.
"Yeah, there's not much to do, except spend my hard
earned money."
"You know, Donna, I've been thinking, said Randy. "The
only time you come to the club is to work. Why don't
you take advantage of your stay and take some golf
lessons?"
"Lessons?" Donna stuttered. Randy hadn't been around
her much since that night in the kitchen. This felt
like some sort of impulse on his part to make up for
avoiding her.
"That's a great idea," chimed in Jerry. He made it
sound like Randy had come up with the idea of the
decade.
"I don't know," said Donna, "I don't really care much
about golf."
"Hey George," Jerry called across the shop. When a
young man behind the sales counter looked up, Jerry
motioned him over.
Donna's eyes widened as George neared. She'd never
seen this guy around the club before. He was really
cute. He was at least six feet tall with thick blonde
hair and brown eyes. When he walked up, George smiled
at Donna, showing two deep dimples in his cheeks.
"Listen George." Jerry took the opportunity to put an
arm around Donna's shoulders. It was all she could do
not to shudder. "I'd like you to teach Donna how to
play golf. Let's say two or three lessons a week. If
you know the golf swing well enough to teach someone
else, that'll go a long way to winning that scholar-
ship."
George looked surprised, but he recovered quickly and
said, "That's great." He turned to Donna, "When would
you like to get started?"
Jerry put his free arm around George. "There's no time
like the present. Why don't you start with chipping
and putting?" He pushed to two young people toward the
pro shop door.
Once they were out the door, George turned to Donna,
"Well, I guess we're starting today. If that's OK with
you?"
Donna shrugged, "Fine with me." A few minutes later
they were on the practice putting green, putters in
hand. George gave her instructions on how to hold the
putter, how to stand and how to stroke the ball smooth-
ly. Donna putted several balls; most of them stopping
near the hole.
"Not bad," said George. Sure you haven't played be-
fore?"
Donna shrugged, "Everybody plays miniature golf." She
looked up at the raspy sound of an air-cooled engine.
It was Jerry the pro rolling down the club's drive in
a bright orange Porsche. "Where's he going?" Donna
asked.
"Who knows?" shrugged George. "I wish I had his job.
He'll take a two hour lunch and then play golf with
some of his buddies all afternoon." George gazed at
the receding car as it left the course.
"Look," said Donna, "He's gone and I can tell you'd
rather be playing or something. You don't have to give
me lessons."
George jerked his gaze back to Donna. "Oh yes I do.
He knows that I can't afford to go to Ellington unless
I get that golf scholarship. He also knows that if I
get it, then I won't be able to work here anymore. So
he ties every little piece of crap job to that scholar-
ship." He saw Donna's face cloud up. "Uh ... not that
teaching you is crap ... I just meant...." He gave her
his best, full dimple, apologetic smile.
"Don't worry, I know what you're trying to say." It was
impossible to work up any anger at that cute face. "Why
does he have such a say in your scholarship?"
"Because the club endows the money, and the board of
directors has the last say in who gets what. And the
board thinks Jerry's opinion is worth something because
he plays golf with them, and because he has a brown
nose from keeping it stuck up their butts. And that's
why I have to give you lessons, please. I can't give
Jerry an excuse to bad mouth me to the board."
Donna smiled, "Well, I guess I'm taking lessons then."
A few days later they were together again. After chip-
ping balls onto the putting green for a few minutes the
two young people got sodas and spent their remaining
time talking. It seemed to Donna that her lesson was
looking more like a date.
George sipped his soda and said, "I'd like to play golf
at Ellington for four years and then try for the PGA
Tour."
"You don't have to go to Ellington to get on the tour
do you?"
Continued in part 2...
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