I walked out to the country club golf course. "I don't get what my husband sees in this game, but I guess I should try to find out. I mean, if he's going to be out here for hours a day, multiple days a week."

Yes, I had married a (slightly) older man, one who loved golf as much as he loved me, although sometimes I'm not sure I was his priority. Yet, I didn't want to be a golf widow, as some people around the country club called it. So I decided to learn by hiring one of the golf pros.

As I stepped out onto the course, he introduced himself as Jeff. He was a young man, about my age, maybe a little younger, and quite fit. Not like the friends my husband played with.

Jeff showed me the basics, and then once I had those down, it was off to play a round and see how I did.

Now, I admit, I like to have fun and can be a little silly. I laughed easily, and soon I was having fun, even if I wasn't doing very well.

I got behind the ball on the fourth hole, the first one where you're really away from the country club, and I shake my ass as I get into position.

"Remember," Jeff said, trying to be as helpful as possible, bend at the torso, and swing with your hips, rotating around a center point... or something like that. It could have been Greek, for all I knew.

I went to swing, and he stopped me. Getting behind me, he put his hands over mine. Like this, he said, helping me try to grip the club right. One thing at a time, he said.

"But there's so much to do," I said in a whiny little voice as I popped my ass back to hinge properly. Of course, I felt him there instantly as he was right behind me.

Now, I could have stopped and acted all embarrassed. Instead, I shook my ass side to side a little, feeling him against my short skirt. And while we both know I should have stopped, I held my ass against him for a little longer. I could feel him slowly stiffen as I pressed against him, and I smiled. He couldn't see me, but I was enjoying knowing I was turning him on. I guess it was the flirt in me.

He stepped back, clearing his throat in embarrassment, and then I swung, missing wildly. Sure, I hit the ball, but it went nowhere near where I wanted it to. Now it was my turn to laugh in embarrassment.

"Let me introduce you to the mulligan," he said.

"The what?"

"The do-over. We just won't count that one."

"So, start the entire process over... you coming up behind me... and holding me... in the right position?" I teased.

"I think you can manage."

And I did. My next shot was much better, not that the bar was very high for that.

And over the next few swings, I continued to do better with each one.

I was still teasing him, and I could tell he was enjoying it, and by the seventh hole, I had undone an extra button on my blouse without him realizing it. On the eighth, I got another. I was past innocent flirting at this point, and I think he knew it too.

"I think you could get par for this one," he told me on the ninth hole.

"What does that mean?" I asked. I've found that playing helpless will get you much further... up to a point, and I was always good at knowing where that point was.

He explained what it meant and how we were on the back nine, the last half of the course.

"Oh, and what do I get if I make par?"

"A better score?"

"I always like to play for something more... fun." I thought about some things I've played for in the past, but I doubted he'd do anything like that, or would he. "Ever play strip golf?"

"I don't think that's a thing."

"Anything is a thing if you work at it. I'll tell you what, if I make that pear.. par... I'll remove a piece of clothing."

"I thought you were supposed to lose clothing if you lose. If you get par, that's like winning."

"True..." Of course, I knew that part of the fun in playing strip games was getting naked, and the fun that ensued after that. "Then you've got to play with anything you see." I might have thrust out my chest a little to tease him more.

"OK, but if you don't make it, you've got to put something on... or since you've not lost anything, button up those buttons at least."

"Deal," I said.

And with that hole, I made par easily.

"Oh, wow," he said.

I reached under my skirt and pulled my panties off, tossing them in his direction. "Why don't you hold on to these for me. I'm hoping not to need them back."

That really shocked him, which was fine with me. I liked seeing his mouth open; it let me know what I might get to play with later.

"Tell me," I asked, "do you see this a lot?" And with that, I knocked another ball on the green. A quick putt and I was under par. I reached into my shirt and undid my bra, pulling it out. I handed him my bra as we walked to the golf cart.

Oh boy, did he blush as he looked at my bra and held onto it. So I guess that answered that question.

"I mean, I've heard some of the tennis pros at the club talk..."

"Oh really? I'd like to know more..."

"No, I've said too much," he said, trying to undo what he'd already done.

In the cart, I hiked up my skirt, and he could see my smooth pussy as we headed to the next hole. I caught him looking over more than once. I'm sure the first time was to see if he really saw what he thought he saw, but the second, third, and every time after that? Well, I spread my legs a little so he could get a better view. As we pulled up to the next hole, I ran my finger between my lips and then to my mouth, where I sucked on it. I was staring into his eyes the whole time, and he was about to burst, I think. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me?"

"No, NO! It's fine. Honest..."

"No, silly," I said, smiling. "It was rude not to offer any to you," I said, running my fingers between my pussy lips again, and then offering it to him.

He bent forward and licked my dirty finger, sucking on it. I loved it, and it made me even wetter.

"Oh, what do you think I should take off when I make this hole?"

He just kind of let out an uncomfortable moan, which I loved to hear.

I drove the line hard and straight and soon found myself on the green. "Care to raise the stakes?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I sink this putt, there's something I want you to do for me," I said, wiggling my ass as I got ready to make my shot. "Let's just say there's something you'll need to sink into me."

"That's a fifty-foot putt. You'd have to be..."

As he spoke, he heard the head of the club hit the ball, and watched it curve as it rolled right into the hole.

His mouth fell open. "Damnnnnn"

I went over and picked up the ball, then tossed it by our golf cart, which I had parked a little closer to the woods than the green. "Opps, I guess you'll have to help me find that, won't you," I said, as I undid another button on my shirt and exposed my C-cup breasts to him.

He continued to stare as I walked right toward him, letting my tits bounce free for him to see. I loved looking at the expression on his face, and the growing member in his pants.

"Come on, help me," I said, taking him by the hand.

I knew the area was empty, and few people played this course at this time, so we'd have some time to ourselves.

I found my ball right by the tree I tossed it to. I bent over, sticking my ass out. "Care to help me?" I asked him as I pulled my skirt up over my ass and spread my legs. "I really need your best... driver..." I teased, wiggling my ass a little for him, as I looked back over my shoulder.

He walked up to me and put his hand cautiously on my ass.

"That's the lamest spanking I've ever been given."

"You want to be spanked?"

"Well, am I being a bad girl?"

"Either that, or a fantastic one," he said, groping my ass. Then he withdrew his hand and spanked me.

"Of course, a bad girl wants more than a spanking. I should do something to deserve it, right?"

"Oh, fuck," he muttered under his breath.

"That's the idea."

I heard him unzip his pants and pull out his dick. He linked it up with my hole and pushed in. I love hearing a guy moan as he fucks me, and he let out a soft moan as he pushed all the way in.

I pushed back as he pushed in, getting a better thrust, and over and over. I was feeling good, and not just from the teasing as he fucked me.

"Yes, yes," I moaned myself, but it was too much for him.

He pulled out and shot his load on the ground next to us.

"Awe man..." I complained.

"What?"

"I wanted that."

"What? Really? Where?" He was so confused since he still wasn't able to use his brain as I had moved his blood flow to another place.

"Oh, you know..." I said, coming up close to him, pressing my naked tits against his chest so I could whisper into his ear. "My mouth... my cunt... my tits... anywhere, really. I just love having fucking cum on and in me."

He moaned again, not believing what he was hearing.

"You better be able to get it up again before we finish, because I'll want some more. And this time you better make me fucking cum."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, almost afraid of me given how direct I was being.

We headed back to the golf cart. I put my tits away, but didn't button my blouse, so he could keep taking peeks.

I missed par by a stroke on the next hole, but made it back on the one after that. As we drove to the next hole, I lifted my skirt and teased him with my shaved pussy. And to the next hole, I fingered myself, wanting to make sure I got to cum one way or another.

As I made that shot, I looked over, an saw the young man was mostly recovered. "Oh well, looks like you're ready for your next hole," I teased, running a finger over his crotch.

I went to the golf cart, but instead of sitting in it, I laid down across the bench seat, letting my legs hang out. I spread them and lifted my skirt so he had access to my pussy. He looked around, making sure no one was coming or even nearby as he undid his pants.

I was rubbing my pussy when he pushed inside of me again. This time he was a little more forward, and he worked to pull my tits out of my shirt, watching them bounce with each thrust he gave me. I smiled at him as he stared at my bouncing tits, groping them, while feeling my wet pussy gripping his cock.

"Where do you want my cum?" he said as I was getting ready to cum myself.

"Cum in me, and don't stop until I finish," I ordered him.

He shot his load, and I got to cum as well, just as I wanted and needed.

"Oh, that was good," he said, spent, but still keeping his cock inside of me as he played with my tits.

I sat up and kissed him. "I'm glad you liked."

"How come I don't think you needed me... at least to teach you golf."

"Well, I've golfing for over a dozen years, but I did need you... for other things."

"I can tell."

"Yeah, and my lover is going to want to know why I'm so wet when I go to him after this."

"You lover?"

"Yeah, my husband always loves when I come home and tell him the dirty things I did with my lover, I wonder what he'll think when he finds out I had two of them today," I said as I kissed the golf pro again.

We saw in the distance another couple coming to play our hole, and decided it would be best to head out. He climbed in as I fixed my shirt, but left my bra and panties off. I loved teasing him, and feeling his cum leaking out of my pussy.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I said. "I mean, why should I hide things from you, if I let you fuck me."

"Are you going to come by for lessons again?"

"Would you like that?"

He smiled. "Very much."

"And what if instead of golfing, we just went straight to fucking for several hours?"

I think he nearly wrecked as we pulled back into the clubhouse.

"I'd love to help you out like that... just don't tell anyone. I might lose my job."

"I would hope I would be worth it."

"Oh, you are, but I also don't want to risk not being able to see you again."

"Say it again. Slowly. Who owns the pussy? Who makes the rules? That's right. Not you. Never you." "Yes Mistress," replied pet, slowly carefully emphasizing: "You own the pussy Mistress and this cock belongs to You too, Mistress. You make every rule, Mistress. —I do not. Never me."

The first time you feel the touch against your leg, you jolt awake. You aren’t a heavy sleeper and you know something just touched you.

But when you turn the light on, look around, even check the locks on the doors and windows- there’s nothing. Not a hair out of place. Maybe it was a dream- like when you dream of falling and wake up flailing. You settle back into bed, adrenaline calming, and though it takes a bit you manage to fall back asleep.

The next morning you get up, double check everything, reconfirm it was just your mind playing tricks. Satisfied, you put the weird happenstance out of your head.

You feel it again that night- a soft, snaking touch up the side of your thigh. This time as it wakes you, you jump out of bed, rush to turn on the light and- nothing. There’s nothing. You sigh, turn off the light, and get back in bed. The adrenaline crash helps you get back to sleep at least.

The following night you lie awake. You’re worried that if you sleep whatever your brain is doing is going to continue. It’s the weekend now anyway, it’s not like you need to sleep. But your body has other ideas, and finally sometime in the early morning, you fall in a light doze.

This time when you feel the touch, just a fingers width, you flinch but keep your body controlled- no jolting awake, no flying out of bed. You tense a moment, and forcibly relax your body pretending to fall back asleep. Your heart is beating like humming bird wings.

It halted for a moment- it felt nice against your skin, soft like cashmere and warm. Very warm. And then the moment passed, the touch gliding up your thigh. You shiver, feel the slightest arousal pool in your stomach at the gentle movement. 

Your heart hammers in anticipation when it slips under the band of your underwear. You can still feel it trailing against your thigh, a snaked tendril moving up your skin. The tendril dips across your hip, circles up and around your crotch. You’re struggling to control your breathing, the teasing touch flooding you with arousal. 

Finally, finally it dips lower. The first press against your entrance has you stifling a moan. The second and you shift your legs wider for the tendril pressing against the sensitive nerves. It slips in, and you sigh in pleasure, trying to keep in mind- whatever this thing is, it wants you asleep at least for now.

You find that’s difficult to do. 

The tendril moves inside you, touches and rubs against every inch of nerves and you try not to squirm. It settles itself deep inside you, yet still feel the slightest movement- and it’s driving you mad. 

It takes a moment for you to notice against the sensation of aching want- the tendril is thickening inside you, pushing against you walls so so painfully slowly. You let out a groan, shifting slightly to widen your legs farther, trying desperately to get more sensation.

The thick cord of heat keeps its pace, and by the time it finally is done, you’re wider then you’ve ever been and fuck do you need more sensation. The cord starts to move again, the texture different now. Large, gentle bumps riddle its surface. Your hips move on their own, rising ever so slightly to match its pace, the ribbed texture dragging so sweetly over your nerves.

Small breathy moans escape, but you don’t care. The cord is pumping into you faster, harder pushing and straining against every inch inside you- you feel a rush building and grasp the sheets of your bed. The cord drives in and stops, and you gasp a strangled cry as a thick bulb moves up the cords length, pushing your opening to the brink.

It slips inside you and you cum, the thick bulb dragging slowly into your body. You let out a gasp, body arching as it accommodates the new size, pleasure screaming through your body. A burst of liquid heat and the bulb is gone- thick, syrupy liquid covering your insides and shooting from your entrance as you’re stuffed full.

You collapse in a heap afterward, panting slightly before evening your breath out to feign sleep again. The cord slowly shrinks back into a tendril, and you are legitimately starting to fall asleep when the tendril finally pulls out of your body. You miss the sensation, gentle enough to feel nice against you even after climax.

The touch slithers down your body and away- you feel it against your comforter and realize something- it came and left from the small gap between your bed and the wall it’s propped against. Whatever it is, it’s living under your bed. 

You smile to yourself- you wonder what would happen if you left your clothes and covers off.