Exposed Ch. 14 Pt. 02

I have previously already written about golfing with my client, but let me tell you the story from the start.

The first time that we went to play the par 3 I was very tentative. I wore my beige denim skirt with a pair of lime green colored nylon bikini panties underneath.

So at least I was prepared for earning points, but I didn't know what to expect i.e. would there be many other golfers there, would we be matched up with another twosome, etc.

I have attached a photo of me in what I typically wore to play golf.

As it turned out the course was almost empty early on a Sunday morning and the layout was such that the tee box for the next hole could only be seen by the green of the previous one.

The ravines and hills made each fairway into an island hidden from the rest of the course.

It was the ideal setting for what would become my style of golf play.

So the first outing was reserved to discovering the lay out and seeing how things might work for the future.

Everything about it seemed ideal for my tendencies to display. I couldn't wait for the next Sunday to arrive. I found myself wide awake an hour before it was even time to get up.

I spent the time deciding what I was going to wear as well as how best to show off for my client. You can imagine the state of arousal that I was in as I pulled on a very bright pair of yellow nylon bikini panties.

I was so excited to get going that I actually walked out of the bedroom without a skirt on.

Oops! Or was it Freudian?

As we rode to the course I made sure not to show off anything to my client. I wanted to exhibit on the golf course. Outdoors meant more points for dinner.

He was so distracted regarding his desire to learn golf, that it wouldn't have mattered anyway.

I could have been in just my panties and probably would have been ignored.

This was going to be a bit more difficult than I realized.

Sure I could earn points, but could I earn the attention that I really was after?

A woman in her 50's was on duty in the clubhouse. My client paid her the fee and received a scorecard in return.

On our way out, she looked at me and said how much she liked my skirt remarking that I was brave to wear such a short skirt so early in the morning on a fall day.

The little smile and wink that she gave me seemed to make it quite clear that she knew that I had more than a game of golf in mind.

I felt that all too familiar warm flush of sexual energy run down my spine settling right between my legs.

The tiny shack that served as the clubhouse was on the highest hill in the area with the first tee box right out the front door.

The green was on the bottom of the hill requiring us to take an outdoor elevator down or a long flight of stairs.

I walked to the first tee, bending over to place the tee in the ground and my golf ball on top of it, took a few practice swings, and then proceeded to hit a ground ball that skipped and hopped over the edge of the hill making its way through the tall grass and weeds until it settled on the bottom.

I thought to myself that hopefully my planned performance would not begin with such an inauspicious start.

As I walked off the tee I noticed the woman watching me from the window. I gave her a little shrug with my shoulders and smiled.

She responded with her own smile.

I was liking this place more and more and at least I got someone's attention with my short skirt as my client was taking his new found interest in golf a bit too seriously.

When it came to his turn, he hit a nice high fly that landed just to the right of the green.

So we were off.

The second and third holes were pretty uneventful since they still were in direct view of the clubhouse and of any other players standing on the first tee.

We hadn't seen anyone else, but I still wanted to be careful.

The fourth hole went around a bend sheltered by a hill on one side and a thick crop of trees on the other.

I surprisingly hit a nice drive and found myself halfway to the green. My client didn't fare quite so well as his ball landed in the tall grass on the side of the hill.

His mood wasn't very good as he took two more turns to find the edge of the green.

I thought that it would be a good time to raise his spirits along with a certain cylindrical shaped hunk of flesh residing inside a banana hammock.

As he was standing over his ball I walked to the green and asked whether he wanted the pin pulled. When he responded with "No", plan A was eliminated so I went with plan B.

As he looked from his ball to the hole I squatted down directly behind the pin and spread my knees wide apart as if waiting for him to shoot and then pull the pin.

Each time he looked from his ball to the hole, he found himself looking directly up my skirt at my yellow nylon covered crotch. 15 points earned!

I relished the smile that slowly crept across his face. My little brain said, "Gotchya!"

I used the exact same technique when I lined up my putt. I would squat behind my ball with my knees wide apart holding the putter straight up and down in front of me, just like I saw them do it on TV.

If my client wasn't looking my way, I asked, "How does this look." There was that smile again.

15 more points earned!

The next two holes were completely sheltered from tee to green. As I was preparing to hit my drive, my client crept up behind me and pulled my skirt right up to my waist. I decided not to pull it back in place and played the entire hole with my skirt pulled up.

25 points earned!

What I hadn't expected was to be molested by a golf club.

Have you ever had the head of a driver placed between your legs so it rubbed your nylon covered mound?

It is quite stimulating to say the least.

So for the next 3 weekends this became our early Sunday morning routine, with me having to put my lower torso on display whenever we were out of the view of other golfers.

Whenever I found myself in the rough with trees all around I was required to drop my skirt completely and play until I was back on the fairway.

On a few occasions I would play the entire hole in just my golf shirt and panties.

I couldn't have been more pleased or excited. Besides I was accumulating dinner points in droves.

The woman was always there each Sunday taking our money and handing out golf cards giving me her little smile and wink as she would say, "Have fun out there."

She had to know what we were up to or had a better view of the entire golf course than I expected.

I found on the mornings that we thought we were the only golfers, my little performances would start the moment we reached the first tee.

I would always part my knees when lining up a putt giving a full upskirt to my client.

My client particularly enjoyed watching me hit off the tee with either my skirt pulled all of the way up to my waist or completely off.

He said that he loved to watch my buttocks when I would swing the driver. It seems that as I drew the club back and over my head I would clench my cheeks as tightly as I could and then as I would hit through the ball I would loosen them causing them to shake suggestively inside their tight nylon casing.

It seems that I was getting him aroused simply by swinging a golf club.

I was having a great time, and despite or because of my sexy antics my client was getting better all of the time.

Now what was even more enjoyable and surprising to me was what happened the next Sunday when we returned home.

But before I tell you I need to tell you what preceded it.

It was a beautiful early fall day with the leaves turning and a layer of dew on the grass. I was feeling particularly adventurous as we turned the corner that put us in the more private part of the golf course.

My client was playing very well with his ball sitting on the edge of the green after one hit.

I on the other hand took my usual 5 hits to get to a similar spot.

Since I was a little closer to the hole, I went and pulled the pin and putted out. As my client studied his putt I held the flag pole straight up directly in front of me.

Feeling unusually horny, I set the end of the pole on the ground and slowly walked forward until my stomach was pushing against it.

As my client looked up, I continued to walk forward until the bottom of the pin was now behind me and I was straddling the flag pole between my legs.

I kept the pin held high enough and continued to walk forward until my momentum caused the flag pole to lift my skirt up high enough so that my client could see the pole pushing against the bright red nylon covering my crotch.

As he tried to concentrate on his putt, I gently moved my hips back and forth so the narrow pole rubbed my hard little kernel as my lower lips were now wide open.

My client hit his putt about 2 feet, almost completely missing it. As he attempted to putt again, I kept my place and continued to self massage my nub.

This time he got closer but still wasn't happy.

He scolded me telling me to stop it.

I complied by putting the pole on the ground, with my putter in my other hand. I slid the handle of the putter up under my skirt. Much to my delight the putter was exactly the right height so that when the head was paced on the ground I could stand over it and have the end of the handle push against my wet nylon in essence impaling myself.

My client stared at me as I slowly lifted the front of my skirt to show how nicely the putter fit between my legs.

His eyes showed a hint of shock along with a wanton craving for this shameless exhibitionist.

I then pulled the putter out from under my skirt, walked over to his ball and hit it directly into the hole.

His smile showed me all that I needed to know.

On the next tee, I unzipped and dropped my skirt onto the wet grass, stepping out of it and walking to the tee box.

I bent over feeling the nylon of my red bikini panties slide up and between my cheeks and placed my tee into the grass and my orange ball on top of it.

I then took a few practice swings knowing that my client was staring directly at my derrière and hit the ball right down the middle of the fairway.

My client hit his deep into the woods on the right side.

I casually walked over to my skirt picked it up and started towards my ball.

I played the entire hole this way, and scored better than my client. He didn't seem to mind at all.

For the next 4 holes, I kept this performance up until we came in view of the clubhouse.

When all was said and done, my client's score was just a little better than mine. It seems that I play much better when I am aroused and skirtless.

All of the way home, I could tell that he was quite aroused, but a little irritable as well.

When I went into the bedroom to change, he followed me in, taking a hold of my arm and pulled me towards the bed.

He sat down, yanked my skirt all of the way up, and then with a gentle grip around my middle he steered me to lie across his lap. Just as I was about to say, "What are you doing?" his hand went up in the air and came down on my almost bare cheeks with a resounding smack.

My head jerked up, my legs bent at the knees with my toes pointing towards the ceiling, and I squeezed my cheeks together as hard as I could.

His slap really stung, but at the same time, I liked how it felt. I mean that I really liked how it felt.

My entire body had come alive as if it had been shocked into awareness i.e. awareness of the stinging emanating from my reddening check, awareness of his hand pushing down on my lower back to keep me in place, awareness of the button on my skirt pinching my stomach, and awareness that I was being spanked while my two daughters sat downstairs watching Sunday morning cartoons.

Mommy was getting a spanking for misbehaving on the golf course, and Mommy couldn't be more pleased.

Another stinging slap rebounded off my nylon covered cheek and I bit my tongue to keep from letting out an orgasmic sounding groan.

Just as I was saying, "We better stop this before..." his left hand slipped off my lower back and around to my front slowly following the contours of my lower torso until it settled on the lowest part of my abdomen and slyly slid down inside of my bikini panties.

His two middle fingers easily discovered that my lower lips were wide open providing a very slick and slippery access to my pearl.

He then simultaneously rubbed my cheeks until the stinging subsided and polished my pearl until my breathing became a series of pre-orgasmic gasps for air.

Then the original sequence started again i.e. two stinging slaps across my almost bare posterior followed by a rubbing and polishing.

When the rubbing and polishing would stop I found myself sticking my butt in the air begging to be spanked some more.

My surprise and initial outrage had completely dissipated.

I was on the verge of orgasmic euphoria hoping that my spanking would never end, when it suddenly did just that.

I felt like some sexual athlete that was just about to cross the finish line when the finish line disappeared.

Just as suddenly I was brought up to my feet, turned towards the bed, and pushed down so I was now on my hands and knees on the bed with my face facing the pillows.

I heard my client's pants come undone and felt his hand on my upper back pushing my torso down towards the mattress so only my bottom was still in the air.

With my posterior sticking up and out two more slaps were administered to my nylon covered cheeks.

As I jerked up in reaction, I felt a very hard and firm tube of flesh push on the small piece of fabric covering my crotch.

Someone was knocking on my door hoping to come in.

I quickly acceded to his silent request by sliding the fabric aside and guiding his erection inside of me.

Somebody was more aroused than I was which I didn't think possible as I got pumped doggy style so hard that my face kept getting pushed into the pillow.

When it became time to scream, "Oh God" I held the pillow against my open mouth and yelled my approval into its soft insides.

The resulting orgasm was incredible.

Needless to say, our next early morning golf outing became a bit more risqué considering my new found use for a putter and a flag pole. And the after golf activity completely satisfied my desire for something new.

Being spanked became my new obsession. It seemed the perfect compliment to feeling exposed and helpless, providing the perfect response for a misbehaving Catholic girl.

Who would have guessed that this little client service rep would enjoy being spanked so much.

Then just like that the weather turned and it became too cold to golf or misbehave, I felt depressed and out of sorts. I certainly could still be spanked, but I required the actual act of misbehavior to precipitate my punishment. My fantasies are very specific and I wanted all aspects to be fulfilled.

But now it was just too damn cold.

I did receive my earned dinners and enjoyed them immensely despite not having any opportunities to earn anymore.

It seemed that I was going to be going through another dry spell......literally.

Next: The cold weather brings out my dominant side.