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 Archive name: golf.txt (mf, teen, wife-cheat, mast)
 Authors name: Heatheranne (Address withheld)
 Story title : Donna's Summer Golfing Vacation
               March 1999
 ------------------------------------------------------
 This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1999.
 Please do not remove the author information or make
 any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
 commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
 commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
 ------------------------------------------------------
 Donna's Summer Golfing Vacation
 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?"
 
 "No, of course not, but Ellington has lots of rich
 alumni who like to back pros, and you do have to have
 a small fortune in order to travel and practice and go
 to the qualifying school."

 "And if you don't make it on the tour?" asked Donna.

 "Hey, I'm perfectly serious about college. I'll have a
 teaching degree when I get out. If I can't make it on
 the tour I certainly don't want to be a club pro. I
 might turn out to be like Jerry."

 They both laughed at that. Donna realized that she
 liked this guy. He was smart and had a sense of humor,
 not to mention that he was tall and good-looking. And
 unlike her previous boy friend, he didn't seem to feel
 that everything had to relate to sex. Not, Donna felt,
 that she would mind if he leaned in that direction.
 They made a date for the next day. Donna was to come
 by for her next lesson before she went to work in the
 dining room. 

 But when she arrived the next day, George couldn't get
 away from the shop. Jerry was no where around and the
 other worker for the shop had called in sick. Donna
 hung around the shop for a few minutes, but George was
 too busy with customers and answering the constantly
 ringing phone to pay her much attention. They resche-
 duled the lesson and Donna left. She wanted to run
 back to her room in order to change into her work
 clothes. She had planned to change at the club after
 her lesson, but her own room would be more convenient.

 Donna pulled her Miata into the huge garage next to
 Randy and Michelle's house. She walked to the rear of
 the mansion sized home. There was a door there, not
 far from her room, where she could enter without
 walking through the whole house. When Donna rounded
 the corner of the house she was a bit startled to see
 Jerry's orange Porsche.

 Now what was he doing here in the middle of the day,
 wondered Donna? Randy faithfully worked until five or
 six each evening and ... and ... huh oh. Surely not.
 Surely there was no hanky-panky between Jerry-the-jerk
 and Michelle.

 After entering the door, Donna didn't have to go far
 to find out. From the sound of voices and the rhythmic
 squeak of bedsprings, it was pretty obvious that there
 was someone in her wing of the house. Donna eased past
 her own room until she could peek into another of the
 guest bedrooms. 

 She could see Michelle on her hands and knees in the
 center of a king-size bed. The pretty brunette was
 wearing a black leather bustier that was accented with
 gold studs and rings. The sexy lingerie had half cups
 revealing generous the mounds of her breasts that
 jiggled and quivered each time Michelle threw herself
 back and forth. Straps from those half cups were
 stretched across her bare shoulders.

 Donna leaned over a bit in order to look farther into
 the room. There she saw a partially naked Jerry holding
 on to those straps. He was wearing a huge - ten-gallon
 at least - black cowboy hat with matching cowboy boots
 and nothing else.

 "Yeee haw," whooped Jerry, as he pulled on the straps
 and thrust an abundant cock past Michelle's bright
 red pussy lips. Jerry's groin slapped firmly into
 Michelle's ass, making a counterpoint to the protesting
 bedsprings.  

 "Yeah cowboy!" screamed Michelle. "Ride me you big
 stud! Fuck me with that big cock of yours."

 Donna had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from
 laughing. As she crept back down the hall, Donna heard
 Jerry gasp, "Yes, oh yes baby, I'm gonna empty my six-
 shooter into your hot cunt." Donna was barely able to
 make it all the way back to her car before she doubled
 over in laughter. 

 No wonder Michelle wasn't interested in having conven-
 tional sex with her husband. Not while a wild man like
 Jerry was around to supply some kinky thrills. Donna
 assumed that Jerry was the "phase" that Michelle
 claimed she was going through that night she'd over-
 heard Randy and Michelle talking. Donna hoped, for
 Randy's sake, that the Jerry-phase would pass quickly.
 
 The next day Donna was back at the pro shop. George
 emerged with two irons and a bucket of practice balls.
 "We aren't chipping and putting?" Donna asked.

 "I don't think I can teach you any more about chipping
 and putting," George replied. "It's time we moved on
 to the full swing."

 The driving range at Ellington isn't near the clubhouse
 so Donna and George jumped into a golf cart and headed
 down a tree lined cart path that wound its way to the
 range. 

 Donna sighed. She liked being with George, but she
 wasn't in the mood to get all hot and sweaty. At least
 not by swinging a golf club, that is. Donna pointed to
 a small track that ran into the woods to their right.
 "Where does that go?"

 George slowed the cart. "It's an access road to a
 couple of house sites that haven't been developed yet."

 Donna grabbed the cart's steering wheel and guided them
 off the cart path and into the woods. "Let's go see."

 George had to latch onto the wheel with both hands to
 keep them from running into a ditch. "OK," he said. "I
 guess we can do that." After they'd traveled a hundred
 yards or so, Randy stopped the cart in an area that had
 been bulldozed flat for house sites, but now weeds had
 overgrown the spot.

 George shrugged his shoulders, "Alright, I hope you
 like this little garden spot."

 Donna got out of the cart and walked around to George's
 side. She pulled on his arm until he was standing.
 Facing him, Donna put her hands on George's shoulders
 and looked into his eyes. "I'm sure it has its uses,"
 she murmured. Donna tilted her head and half closed her
 eyes. She didn't know how to telegraph an invitation to
 a kiss more openly and for a second she thought George
 was going to reject it.

 But then he lowered his face to hers and gave her a
 peck on the lips. Donna didn't move and George kissed
 her again, longer and more firmly. George slid his arms
 around her waist and renewed his kiss, parting his lips
 and darting his tongue into her mouth. 

 Donna responded and in a moment the young couple was
 breathing heavily, their tongues sliding and twisting
 about one another. George's hands slid down until they
 were caressing Donna's firm ass.

 Donna, in turn, put her arms around George's neck and
 pulled him close, pressing her tits to his chest. For
 minutes they stayed that way, Donna worked her leg
 between George's and slowly ground her thigh into his
 crotch until George began to pump his hips. 

 Donna broke off their kiss and took a step back. "Wow,"
 said George, a bit breathlessly.

 Donna smiled at him, "You haven't seen wow yet." She
 grasped the waistband of George's pants with one hand
 and pulled down his zipper with the other.

 "Donna, do you think this is good idea?" George squeak-
 ed.

 Donna reached into his pants. Hmm...George was a briefs
 kind of guy. 

 "I mean we're out here in the open and everything."

 Donna pulled open the flap of George's briefs and found
 the hard lump of his cock. Hmmm, Donna thought, it must
 be doubled up. She tugged on the warm appendage and
 felt it pop into the open. She looked down. His cock
 hadn't been doubled up in his pants, it was just so
 very short. 

 Donna petted and caressed George's erection. "Oh look,"
 she cooed, "it's so...."

 "Don't say..."

 "Cute," Donna finished.

 "You had to say that, didn't you?"

 "Well it is," Donna giggled. It was only three inches
 long, but as far a Donna's limited experience told her,
 George's little cock was perfectly formed. "And it
 seems to be in good working order, too," she said as
 she continued to stroke his fully erect member using
 her thumb and forefinger. 

 Donna pulled George's face to hers and gave him a deep
 kiss, her tongue flicking around in his mouth in time
 with her fingers on his cock. She felt his breath on
 her cheek and his hand as it sought out her breast. 

 They went on like that for a minute and then George
 stiffened and Donna felt the hot flecks of cum on her
 hand. She broke off their kiss and stood back. George
 had a sort of glassy eyed look. When his eyes finally
 focused on her George said, "That was nice, I really
 didn't expect you to do that."

 "Unfortunately, too many guys expect things to go
 exactly that way. You're more special than you know."

 "May I return the...uh...favor?" he hesitantly asked.  

 Donna leaned against the cart and hooked a thumb on
 the front of her shorts. As she tugged down the front
 of her shorts she crooked a finger at George and said,
 "You certainly may."

 George gulped, "You'll probably have to give me some
 hints."

 Donna took one of his hands and placed it on her
 breast. "This hand goes here," she said, smiling sexily
 into his wide eyes. "And this hand goes down here," she
 said as she slid George's other hand down her tummy and
 under the waistband of her panties. "Down just a bit
 more and ohhhh," Donna whispered. "Maybe we'll get that
 far next time. Pull your finger back a little. That's
 it. Feel that? Now you've got my clit. Just rub right
 there. Mmmm...softer, softer. Yeah, that's it!"

 George squeezed and kneaded Donna's breast through her
 shirt and bra while he kept a steady rhythm flicking
 across the nub of her clitoris. Donna moaned and ground
 her hips against George's hand. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she
 chanted. Donna's thighs quivered and George had to
 steady her as she moaned out her orgasm. 

 A few minutes later they had cleaned up and straighten-
 ed up. George looked at his watch and frowned, "As much
 as I'd like to stay with you all afternoon, I have to
 get back to the shop."

 "Can we do another lesson tomorrow?" asked Donna, with
 a coquettish smile. 

 "I think I can squeeze you in," George smiled back,
 lightly grabbing her firm butt.

 For the next two weeks George and Donna saw one another
 almost every day. Their work schedules kept them apart
 in the evening, but they made the most of Donna's
 "lessons". 

 The time came, though, for Donna to return home. It was
 the day before she was to leave and Donna was going to
 see George for her last supposed golf lesson. 

 She arrived in front of the pro shop to find George,
 Jerry the pro and another man standing there. When she
 approached they looked up as if they were waiting on
 her. 

 Jerry took her by the elbow and steered her to the
 stranger. "Donna," said Jerry, "I'd like for you to
 meet Coach White. He's the golf coach for Ellington."
 
 Donna glanced at George. He looked like someone about
 to mount the gallows instead of a perfectly fine golfer
 who should be trying to impress his maybe-to-be coach.
 Donna turned her attention back to coach White and
 offered her hand. "So you're the guy who's going to
 see that George gets a much deserved scholarship."

 The coach took her hand and laughed. He was a man in
 his sixties with mostly gray hair and a full mustache.
 "We'll see, young lady, we'll see. It's nice to meet
 you."

 Jerry said, "I thought we'd play a few holes today.
 That'll give the coach a chance to see George play and
 we'll see how well he's taught you the golf swing." 

 "Gee, Jerry," Donna shook her head, now she understood
 why George looked so doomed. "You know, I don't think
 I have time to actually play. I have to be at work in
 an hour."

 Jerry gave her a shifty smile, "Oh, I called Randy, he
 said that he'd excuse you for a while. Here," he began
 to walk toward a cart, "I've put a set of my old clubs
 on this cart for you to use. You can ride with me while
 George and Coach White get acquainted."

 Donna gave a mental shrug. There didn't seem to be any
 way out of it, she climbed into the cart and the four-
 some headed to the first tee. 

 George was a nervous wreck. Jerry had neglected to
 tell him that the Ellington golf coach would be here
 to see him this day. Jerry claimed that he'd forgotten,
 but George was sure that Jerry wanted him to be un-
 prepared for the visit. Even this little golf game was
 a dig by Jerry. 

 They arrived at the back tees, the ones that would make
 the hole as long as possible. Jerry jumped out of the
 cart and teed up a ball. With his choppy, but effec-
 tive, swing, Jerry sent the ball well over two hundred
 yards down the fairway.

 George felt numb as he emerged from the cart and went
 through his warm-up swings. He put a ball on a tee and
 set up. George had played in many competitions and the
 first tee jitters were nothing new. He took a deep
 breath, blanked out his conscious mind by focusing his
 attention on the number on his golf ball and let his
 body take over. His long, smooth swing put the ball
 slightly farther out than Jerry's and very nearly in
 the center of the fairway.

 The foursome moved down to the next set of tees. Coach
 White hit his ball with a slow, but fundamentally sound
 swing. "Nice shot, Coach," said George, hoping he
 didn't sound like a suck up.

 "Oh, I've played better," said the coach, "but I had
 some heart problems earlier this summer." The coach was
 going on about his health as they pulled up to the
 ladies tee.

 George couldn't concentrate on the coach's words. He
 felt the knot in his stomach tighten when Donna hopped
 out of her cart and looked at her bag of clubs like
 someone trying to pick out something palatable from a
 tray of strange hors d'oeuvres. She glanced over at
 George and pointed to the driver, raising her eyebrows.

 George wrenched a muscle in his neck as he tried to
 shake his head violently without actually moving it.
 If she'd just pick out one of the shorter irons, then
 George could hold out some hope that she might actually
 move the ball forward. But a driver was the worst, it
 was the hardest club in the bag to hit.

 With a growing sense of doom George watched as Donna
 awkwardly pushed a tee in the ground with her thumb.
 He shuddered slightly when it took her three tries to
 get a ball to balance on top of the tee. 

 "Need some help?" called out Jerry.

 The ball finally decided to stay put. "I've got it
 now," Donna answered as she grabbed up the driver and
 took an ungraceful stance. 

 George put his hand to his face and peeked at Donna
 from between his fingers. It was all he could do not
 to moan. Donna took some disjointed practice swings
 and pushed the hair out of her eyes several times.
 "Let's do it today, sweetie," said Jerry impatiently.
 She was stooped over the ball, her feet too close
 together, the club held incorrectly. Oh God, thought
 George, she's about to make the both of us look like
 idiots. 

 That was when Donna looked up and, while she pushed
 the hair off her face once more, gave George a wink
 that only he could see. Suddenly her back straightened,
 her stance widened, she corrected her hand position on
 the club.

 George's eyebrows rose in surprise as Donna swept the
 club head back in a smooth arc. When the club head
 stopped at the end of its back swing Donna's left
 shoulder was pointed at the ball with her hips turned
 to the right.

 In short, she had a perfect back swing. Then her hips
 swayed left, her shoulders turned, the club head
 descended and with a sharp smack the ball arced away
 from the tee to land near Jerry's ball in the fairway.
 
 "Nice hit," said Coach White as he floored the acceler-
 ator on the cart and pulled down the cart path with a
 stunned George by his side.

 Donna twirled the club as if it were a baton as she
 walked back to the cart. She tossed the club into the
 air, caught it and jammed it back into the golf bag.
 She was barely back in the cart when Jerry jerked the
 cart forward.

 "That was very cute little girl," said Jerry accusingly.

 "What do you mean?" asked Donna, all innocence.

 "I mean," he growled, "I don't appreciate being made a
 fool of. It's obvious that you know how to play. We
 both know George couldn't have taught you that swing
 in the last few weeks."

 Donna could feel the blood rising up her neck and into
 her cheeks. "Look, I can't help it if all you men,
 George and Randy included, assumed I couldn't swing a
 club. I never said I'd never played. All I said was
 that I didn't care much for the game."

 That was the truth. When she had begun to go with John,
 she decided that she wasn't about to be one of those
 girl friends who walked the course with their guys,
 looking bored, staring into space. So she convinced her
 father to give her lessons and, spurred on by her
 determination to share John's passion for golf, she
 quickly learned the basics. Then, playing round after
 round with John had honed her skills. Unfortunately,
 when they broke up, golf's appeal went out the door
 with him.

 "Some excuse," said Jerry sarcastically, "I'll remember
 this when it comes time to recommend George to the
 board for his scholarship."

 Donna was seething. She watched as Jerry pulled a club
 from his bag and began to set up for his approach shot.
 "I suggest that you give George a fair evaluation or I
 might just have to speak to the board members myself."

 Jerry waggled his club, "Tell me, little girl, what
 would you say to them?"

 "How about," Donna lowered her voice and changed to a
 monotone, "Oh, oh yes baby, I'm gonna empty my six-
 shooter into your hot cunt."

 Jerry lowered his club to the ground and leaned on it.
 He studied Donna for several seconds. She met his
 scrutiny with a cool, flat expression. He returned his
 attention to his ball and shanked it, badly, to the
 right of the green. Jerry slammed his club back in his
 bag and plopped himself in his seat. "OK," he said
 angrily, "what's this blackmail going to cost me."

 Donna felt some cold water splash on the fire of her
 anger. She hadn't considered herself a blackmailer.
 She took a deep breath and resolved herself. After all
 Jerry was the one screwing his boss's wife. "Look, you
 smarmy jerk." There, smarmy, she'd said it. "All I want
 is a fair break for George, and for Randy, for that
 matter." She sat quietly for a few seconds and said,
 "I'll tell you what..."


 The next day found Donna and Jerry in his pro shop
 office. Jerry was talking on the phone, "Yeah babe,
 I'll meet you at noon. Yes. OK, bye then."

 Jerry put down the phone. "Do you really think this
 situation comedy plot device is actually going to put
 everything right?"

 Donna shrugged, "Michelle's a smart girl. I'm sure
 she'll go along until she can figure things out. And
 if she does, then Randy and Michelle save their
 marriage, and you," she pointed at Jerry, "get to keep
 your extravagant salary and no one gets hurt." She
 left Jerry shaking his head as she walked out of his
 office.

 George met her there. He nodded toward Jerry's office.
 "What was that all about?"

 Donna gave him a little smile, "Just tying up some
 loose ends. Are you still mad at me?"

 George said, "I know I didn't say much to you yesterday.
 I never was mad, things just overwhelmed me." He took
 a deep breath, "I guess this means we'll be playing a lot
 of golf together?"

 Donna's smile widened, she put her arms around George's
 waist. "Are you sure that's a good idea? Your mind may
 not be on your game."

 George put his hands on her hips, "I'm going to blame
 you for that." He tilted his head a bit and kissed her
 firmly on the lips. "God, I hope that scholarship comes
 through. I can't imagine going to college without you."

 Donna broke their embrace and walked slowly to the shop
 door. "I'll be at Ellington in two weeks and the first
 place I visit will be your room.

 George waved goodbye as she went out the door, "I can't
 wait," he called after her. 

 Donna's next stop was at Randy's office. He looked up
 as she entered, "I guess you're ready to leave?"

 "Yep, all packed. I want to thank you for the room and
 the job and everything."

 Randy made a throw away gesture, "It was nothing.
 Michelle and I hardly knew you were there. Glad to
 have you."

 "Oh, I'm glad you mentioned Michelle. She gave me this
 note for you as I left the house."

 Randy took the note from Donna's outstretched hand. As
 he read, Randy's expression turned from one of casual
 interest to eager anticipation. Just as she'd antici-
 pated, Randy was so horny that the note's erotic con-
 tent had kept him from noticing that it was a forgery.

 Randy jumped up. "Uh, let me see you to your car. I
 have to run home."

 As Randy hurried them out of the clubhouse and across
 the parking lot to her car, Donna couldn't resist
 asking, "What was in that note, an invitation to a
 nooner?" She knew very well that it was. She'd put the
 explicit details of a grade A blowjob in that note.

 Randy opened the door to Donna's Miata. "Now what would
 you know about nooners?" He held up his hand, "No, I
 don't want to know. I'll see you when you come back for
 school."

 Donna fastened her safety belt and started the engine.
 She turned and looked out the window. Because of her
 position in the low car, she was looking right at
 Randy's crotch. She imagined that she could see the
 outline of his stiffening cock. She reached out, patted
 Randy on the leg, grazing his penis, and looked up;
 "You'll be the second person I'll come see."

 As she pulled away Donna looked at the handsome figure
 of her cousin receding in the rear view mirror and
 thought, if things don't work out with George and
 Michelle, then Randy might be first one I come to.
 After all, life was like a golf ball. You never knew
 which way it was going to bounce.

 End.  
 ______________________________________________________
 Kristen's collection - Directory 9