Strokes and Distance

If her smile was any indication, she liked hearing it. I stole glances at her long legs while she hit her own putts. The short, white skirt was back, but today's top of choice was red, sleeveless, tighter, and had a more revealing neckline than yesterday's polo shirt. Otherwise, she was the same, which is to say, gorgeous.

Another thing that was the same was her golf game. We were playing the second course of the 36-hole facility, which was slightly tougher, but it made no difference to her. Funny how the middle of the fairway is the same, no matter where you're playing.

My game was a little better. I hit it more solidly, and that led to less scrambling, and more opportunities to score. Oddly, my best opportunity to score came on a less than perfect shot.

We were on 14, a 410 yard par four, with a nice, open fairway. Too open, for my liking, as I like to have a distinct target, and didn't have one here. So naturally, I pulled my drive, right behind the only tree that didn't have several friends in place.

"Hmmmm," I said, looking at my lie in the rough. If I took enough loft to get over the tree, I couldn't possibly reach the green. If I took the club to reach the green, I'd need to go around the tree. Going left was not an option. It was right, or nowhere. But starting it right would involve aiming into trouble, so if it didn't hook, I was toast.

All of this was on one side of the balance, while my score, a mere one shot behind Holly, was on the other. It appeared my fate hung on this next swing.

Holly walked back, having hitting her shot, from the middle of the fairway, of course. She as on the front edge of the green. A par was a virtual certainty.

"Ewwww," she groaned, looking at my predicament. "You gonna go for it?"

"Thinking about it," I nodded. The ball was above my feet, which worked in my favour, but it was still a very advanced shot. "I don't suppose you'd like to offer some incentive? Nothing too much. A kiss, perhaps?"

"Why do I get the feeling I'm being set up?" she asked, a big smile on her face. "Okay. If you put the ball, on the green, from here... I'll give you a kiss."

"On the lips?" I clarified, not wanting to pull the shot off, only to get a peck on the cheek.

"On the lips. Three seconds. I will kiss you, on the lips for three seconds. Deal?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"Deal," I replied, and pulled the 7-iron out of my bag. It was not a small hook. I would need to move it about twenty yards right-to-left. Not a shot I normally practiced, but I understood the technique adequately; Swing towards the starting point, with a closed clubface that aimed about where the target was.

Holly sat on the cart, watching silently. It wasn't going to get any easier.

Ooookay, whatever you do, don't try to steer it, and don't rush it. Just trust yourself.

I set up, and pulled the trigger.

"Nice contact," Holly said, narrating the shot as it arced through the air, curving in a tilted parabola. "It's moving toward the target. Nice shot!" she giggled, as the ball thumped down on the green. The remaining sidespin screwed the ball closer, until it stopped about twenty feet from the hole. "Very nice shot. Looks like I owe you a kiss!"

She stood up, and met me behind the cart, where I was putting my club away. She tiptoed, hands behind her back, and pressed her lips to mine. I counted four, so I think I got a bonus second. Her lips were so soft, and delicious, just as they appeared to be.

Back on the cart, we drove up and parked beside the green. She had some forty feet, uphill and over a ridge, but she nestled it within three feet, and I tapped it back at her.

"Thank you," she smiled, accepting the gimme.

"Care to offer another prize?" I asked her, as I lined up my putt.

"Ha! Not likely!" she laughed. "This is for birdie, to tie me, and you expect me to sweeten the deal? Just putt, hotshot!"

"Chicken?" I taunted her. "Brock! Brock! Brock!" I strutted, flapping my wings.

"Okay, Foghorn Leghorn, you've made your point," she giggled. "Now make the putt."

"Do I get another kiss?"

"Fine. If you make the putt, you can kiss me this time. Fair enough?" she asked.

Now that's motivation.

The putt was pretty quick, slightly downhill, right-to-left a few inches. It was delicate, but I thought I could be aggressive, and keep it inside the hole. It was either going in, or four feet past, but the kiss was worth the chance.

I took a deep breath, and drilled it, right in the heart.

"Booyah!" I yelled, pumping my first, and doing a happy dance. The fist pump was for the birdie; the happy dance for something else entirely. She picked my ball out of the hole, and crooked her finger at me.

As I put the flag back, she waited, and put her arms around my neck. This kiss wasn't timed, and lasted several seconds, with the added pleasure of her breasts brushing against my chest. She parted her lips, but just as I might have expected her tongue to peek out, she pulled back, and smiled, wagging her finger at me.

"I think I've given you enough motivation for one day. We're tied, and there are four holes left," she grinned. "Game on."

I learned something new about her. I knew from TV that she was firm, lean, built and gorgeous. I knew from yesterday's ass-kicking that she had game. I knew from the kisses that her lips were soft, plump, and tasted like cherry... and I learned from the last four holes that she was intensely competitive. She ground over every shot, and forced me to do the same, giving no quarter while asking for none. I stayed with her, shot for shot, and we finished still tied.

"Three-hole aggregate playoff on the putting green," she smiled. "Loser buys dinner."

I smiled. It meant that, win or lose, we were having dinner again tonight. That, I could live with.

She chose the first hole. Thirty feet, left to right. Two putts for both of us. My choice.

I picked a long lag putt, over fifty feet. Uphill, over a ridge, then down and left. She still had the tee, and zipped hers eight feet past. You'd have thought it was for a Masters Green Jacket, the way she reacted as it slid by the edge.

My putt looked light, but picked up pace as it crested the ridge, trickling to a stop eighteen inches from the hole. I tapped it in.

Holly lipped hers out.

"Fuck!" she groaned, dropping her putter, and glaring at the uncooperative ball, hands on hips.

She chose a makeable fifteen-footer for the third hole, and poured hers in the centre, drawing even. Now I had to make mine, or it was sudden death.

No pressure.

When mine followed hers into the hole, I had done it. I won!

"Alright, mister incentive," she pointed, as I danced across the green. "Tomorrow morning. Round three. No side bets for kisses, or other tricks. Just you and me for the title!"

She smiled, and stepped over, kissing me softly again.

"Good round. Nicely played," she nodded. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?"

"Pool," I replied.

"See you there," she grinned. "Save me a seat in the sun."

***

It had already been quite the day. I had played well, and received three kisses from Holly so far. Dinner later seemed quite promising, and within minutes I expected her to join me by the pool, likely in her bikini.

Jenny who?

I'm not trying to be cruel, but Holly was doing a wonderful job of distracting me from what could have been a painful time. The glass was definitely half full right now.

The term 'half full' most certainly did not apply to her bikini. This one was black... I suppose, like most women, she brought more than one... and the cups were full to capacity with beautiful, sexy breasts. She dropped her bag of pool supplies on the lounge next to me, then wiggled away to get a couple of towels. Her lower half was wrapped, but on the return trip, she discarded the covering.

I got a good look at her ass while she arranged her towels, and my view was unobstructed, as the bikini bottom was a thong style. Once she was satisfied with her prep, she placed herself on the lounge, and laid her head back.

"Mmmmm. The sun feels so good," she smiled. "Very relaxing."

Maybe for her, but having such a goddess seated next to me, only three small swatches of cloth away from completely nude, was less than relaxing. I had my sunglasses on, so she couldn't see my eyes on her, but I couldn't see her eyes either. Perhaps hers were doing the same on me. One can hope.

We chatted back and forth, and I listened as she told me about growing up in small-town Ohio, outside Columbus, then attending Michigan State.

I had no story to compete with that, so I let her continue. She was happy to talk about herself, and having to look at her as she did was hardly difficult, especially when she laughed. That big smile shook those big tits slightly, and drew my attention down.

She had that perfect, golden brown colour already, but the shine of suntan lotion on her skin made her even more delicious. I had to get out of here, before I said or did something stupid.

"I think, I'll head in now. All this sun has me sleepy," I smiled. Actually, I'm in severe need of a sexual release, and you're going to be the star attraction.

"Oh, before you go," she smiled, rolling onto her tummy, "Do my back, please?"

One hand passed me the bottle of oil, while the other reached behind her back, and undid the string that held her top in place. I took the bottle.

Oooh boy. This is going to do nothing to ease my erection.

I poured some oil into my shaking hand, and moved closer, touching her for the first time, other than the kisses, of course.

"Mmmmm, that's nice," she sighed, as I rubbed the oil across her skin, from shoulders to just above her nearly naked rear end.

"Legs, too?" I asked, pausing with my hands eager to grab her ass fully.

"Please," she replied.

"What about your, um... Shall I leave your butt to you?" I stammered.

"You can do it," she giggled. "It's just an ass."

Just an ass? That's like saying the Mona Lisa is just a painting, or a Ferrari is just a car. No, that is not just as ass. That's a work of art and if I touch it, I might never let go.

I did her long legs first, saving her best part for last. Oiling my hands once more, I kneaded the firm cheeks, more massage than the mere application of tanning lotion.

"Mmmmm, you're good. I might need some more of that," she moaned.

"Okay, Holly, you're coated. See you at dinner," I laughed, patting her rump in departure. She was face down, so probably didn't see me limping off into to hotel, trying not to break my dick.

***

I beat her to the table this time. Sitting quietly, and staring out the window at the view of the ocean and beach, I was still playing back the events of the day. Three kisses, a chance to feel those big breasts against my chest for a few seconds, and getting to not only see, but touch, her fabulous ass. Oh, and I played some good golf, winning the day.

All in all, a pretty good day so far, with dinner to come. I heard the voice of an angel, and turned to see Holly approaching.

Oh my.

In my experience, most women don't break out the little black dress unless they're interested in the man they're wearing it for. I know Holly was definitely not 'most women', but I could hope it still applied, because she was taking her seat right now, and that dress was pretty sexy.

"Hi Shane," she smiled. "Miss me?"

"Of course. I always miss a beautiful woman when she's gone," I replied, smiling back at her. I was laying it on pretty thick, but she was worth the effort.

"Aww, thank you!" she giggled, "but you know, buttering me up will get you nowhere on the golf course."

How about your bedroom? Golf is important to me, but I'd gladly sacrifice my male ego in that arena, if I get to have you in the sexual one. And no one loses at sex.

I gazed at her, my focus running from her beautiful eyes, down to those kissably pouty lips, then down to quickly steal a peek at her impressive décolletage, which I'm sure she knew I'd be drooling over. That would be the whole purpose of choosing such a dress to wear, wouldn't it?

"Shane, you never really told me why you're here, all alone," she smiled. "I mean, your room is the same layout as mine, so I know you're in a suite, and I know why I'm here alone..." she let the sentence hang, unfinished.

"Oh, I get it. Quid pro quo, huh?" I chuckled. "Alright, I'll give you the whole sordid story, but you have to tell me your saga, too."

"I told you," she giggled, playing innocent. "Marysville, Ohio... Michigan State... Golf Channel... Fox. You already know all about me."

"Well, I may know about Holly, the celebrity, but I don't know anything about Holly the woman," I said. "I Googled you. It says what you said. Did you write it?"

"No, just lived it. Gotta leave a girl with a little mystery, don't you?" she smiled. "Okay. You tell me, I'll tell you. Promise."

"Alright. My girlfriend decided not to come," I told her.

"Nice try, but you're not getting anything new from me for that bit of tripe," she shook her head. She crossed her arms, squeezing her breasts together noticeably, and sat back waiting for more. It was clear the subject was not debatable.

"Fine," I sighed. I decided there wasn't really much to lose by telling her the whole story, unless she sided with Jenny, in which case masturbation was as close as I was going to get to having her. "Please reserve judgement until the end, okay?"

"Okay. No judgement. So what's the gossip?" she smiled, un-crossing her arms and sitting forward.

"Jeez, try not to enjoy my torment quite so much, will you?" I frowned.

"Right. No entertainment in heartache and sorrow," she replied, switching off the smile.

"That's better. Okay, her name was... is... Jenny, and we were together for almost a year," I began. "We had an argument. She left."

"Shane, don't hide behind your pain. Let it out. Tell me all of it," she said softly, reaching across the table to touch my hand. "Please."

Well, if I had a therapist as hot as you, I might have already done so, I thought. Let it out? I suppose it's about time, isn't it?

I laid it all out... how we met, how I felt about Jenny, and the plans we had made for the future. I told her about the argument, and how things had grown from a spat, into a full blown fight that ended with many hurtful things being said by both of us.

"How long has it been?" Holly asked.

"Six months. I wanted to apologize, but she has moved on, with someone else," I finished. "That's about it. This place was paid for, and non-refundable, so I came by myself. I figured the time on the golf course might help."

"Did it?" she asked.

"With you? Yes, absolutely. You're very therapeutic," I laughed. I wasn't sure if I felt better having told her, but I did feel different.

"Glad to be of service," she giggled. "Don't expect pity from me tomorrow, though."

"Oh, of course not," I waved, dismissing the very notion.

"My turn, huh?" she smiled.

"You dragged it out of me. Don't make me twist your arm," I nodded.

"I don't suppose you'd believe my story is pretty much the same?" she offered.

"Really?" I smiled, disingenuously. "No, I wouldn't. Now spill it."

"Okay, okay... I'll tell you," she giggled. "In the interest of saving both of us some time, I'm going to cut to the chase. My husband is an asshole. We're separated, and getting a divorce, because we had an argument, too. I didn't think he should be sleeping with his production assistant, and he seemed to think he should, so he did, over and over."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, honestly. "Betrayal sucks."

"You got that right," she smiled, raising her glass. "Here's to solo vacations, and partners that don't know a good thing when they see it!"

"Here, here!" I laughed, clinking my glass with hers.

Unlike her husband, I knew a good thing when I saw it. Holly Sonders was very definitely a good thing, and from what I had experienced so far, that evaluation wasn't purely physical. I liked her, almost as much as I lusted after her body.

At this point, that lust was bubbling to the surface, fuelled in no small part by that dress. It wasn't quite the skin tight, ultra-short, cleavage popping style of a club dress, but it was pretty snug. The skirt was a tulip cut, just above the knee, and had a layered detail that made her hips look more angular.

Being a breast man at heart, I loved the neckline, a wide, shallow V that showed off the rounded upper curves of her chest. Several inches of seductive cleavage peeked over the top edge, and an interesting scroll detail at the shoulders focused my eyes even more on those smooth, well-tanned breasts.

Another source of heat was the look in her eyes, and the slight, sexy curl of her smile. It was a look that told me I wasn't the only one feeling the need for physical companionship tonight. She used one long, manicured finger, to beckon me closer.

"You know, I said there would be no pity tomorrow," she smiled, "but I didn't say anything about tonight. Misery loves company, right?"

Well, that's the cliché, isn't it? Personally, I think what misery really loves is relief, distraction, and replacement with another more pleasurable emotion.

The waiter arrived with the food we had ordered during a pause in our telling of sad stories. It was, in a way, just what we needed to keep us from spoiling the moment with urgency. She had put the suggestion of a night together on the table, and I'm sure she knew I wouldn't be declining the offer. My eyes on her body were more than enough to confirm that I found her very attractive, and I had already called her 'pretty' and 'beautiful' today. We didn't need to rush, and the anticipation only made it better.

With a smile, she tucked into her seafood pasta plate, a plump scallop meeting its end between lips I hoped would soon be inching their way down my cock. With surgical skill, I carved into my own steak, a juicy medium rare, and delicious warm up for the juicy slice between her legs. We ate with controlled fury, not wanting to ruin things by rushing, but not wasting time either.

I watched, fascinated, as her tongue swept rogue custard from her succulent lips during dessert. Would it do the same with my cum, later tonight? Was I destined to paint her pretty face with semen? Oh god, I hope so.

With dinner complete, I led her outside, toward the beach. The sun was setting, and even though we both knew that we would soon be writhing in each other's arms, it simply wouldn't do to waste such a romantic vista as this one. We paused at the end of the paved walkway, and she deftly removed her shoes, one delicate foot at a time, hanging the sexy heels by the straps from her fingertips.

The sand was still warm, as we slowly sauntered over to one of the lounges, taking a seat side by side, as the lower arc of the sun just kissed the horizon. Holly held my hand and we watched it in silence for a few minutes, before she stood, and rearranged my feet, creating a gap for her to sit in between my legs, leaning back against me. She wrapped my arms around her like a favourite blanket, and rested her head on my shoulder.

"That's better," she smiled.

It certainly was. Her luscious body fit me like a glove, and I held her close, smelling her hair. The slender nape of her neck was bare, her long hair pulled aside, and I spontaneously kissed the smooth skin. She moaned, and shuddered.

"That's better, too!" she giggled. I kissed her neck again, and slid my hands up her body from her waist. My palms caressed the lower curves of her breasts. "Mmmmm, that too. Don't stop."