#titus danforth ff

You carefully winded your arm back just six inches, lightly tapping the golf ball with about as much force as a heavy exhale. You watched as it rolled slowly, following the slight curve of the grass before sliding into the hole with a soft clatter.

“Yes!” You clenched your free hand into a loose fist, pumping your hand in the air as you quickly turned to your husband who was watching with a pleased smile.

“Good job, sweetheart,” He praised with a slow nod and a short clap as he tucked the club grip first under his arm. You shrug lightly as if this type of talent came naturally, stepping aside as your husband subtly jerked his chin towards Pernilla in a silent command to have her grab the ball from the hole. “So, that puts you at what… 35?”

You let out a small, sarcastic laugh, tapping the club head of the club into the damp grass as you approached your husband. “Close, but it’s actually 15.” Titus raises an eyebrow at you, tilting his head slightly.

“15? Is that accurate?” He watches you as the both of you subconsciously make your way towards one another, stopping just at the foot of the golf cart.

“Read the scorecard, baby. One-five, soak it in.”

He leans closer beside you as you pull out the scorecard with a dramatic flourish glancing down at the italicized flourish of your name with a whopping 35 next to it. Your eyes shift down to the neat, bold claim of Titus’ name beside your high score where his score is a gaining with a lower 32 (which was incredibly high even for him, but you knew he’d purposefully been fucking up the entire game). He hums lowly, looking over at you as you’re already looking up at him with a small look he’d gotten familiar with.

He doesn’t say anything at first, studying the little pout on your lips and the pointed look you gave him before quickly caving with a content smile. “Pernilla must’ve miscounted.” Your pout immediately goes away, like a flip is switched, an eager grin slips onto your mouth.

“So, we agree. But don’t worry, I’ll go easy during the last hole.” He laughs at that, letting out a quiet huff through his nose.

His arm finds its way around your waist, tugging you closer to him with a firm grip on your hip. “Thank you, baby. I really appreciate it.” With a steady movement, he guides you towards the golf cart, keeping one hand braced on your back as the other hovered in the air to ease you into your seat.

You accept his extended hand, stepping up onto the golfcart as Titus tilts his head down just a few inches to peer under your small black pleated skirt. But he’s barely caught a glimpse of the colored cotton of your panties before you’re already sitting down. You hand him your golf club without a second thought, as he quickly moves to put your clubs into the cart bag. He moved to slide into the driver’s seat, giving Pernilla four seconds to make her way into her own golf cart before pulling the cart back in drive.

The two of you make your way towards the final hole, golf cart gliding over long hills of bright green as the wind forced the thick dark leaves of the trees to sway loudly. You slid the sunglasses from the top of your head, allowing them to sit comfortably on the bridge of your nose as Titus’ hand made its way towards your thigh.

A comfortable silence stretched between the two of you, tires rolling quietly against the lawn as the cart moved towards the long stretch of empty space. Titus’ thumb rubbed up and down against the smooth expanse of your thigh, occasionally looking over at you to ensure you’re comfortable. You curiously glance over at Pernilla, who’s trailing behind the two of you, turning to look back at your husband. You rest your hand on top of his, rubbing his knuckles with your index finger as he actively fights back a smile.

The cart is shifted into a park as the two of you finally stop at the hole, Titus is the first to glide out of the vehicle. Immediately moving to help you down, though you probably could’ve easily hopped down, the two of you refused to allow yourself to do any simple task like that. Titus quickly grabs your club, extending it your way without you even having to look his way. You turn to him with a bright smile, leaning up to press a lipgloss sticky kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t go easy on me now, I can take it.” You lift up your shades, tucking them into the v-cut of your top as you press a hand to your eyebrows. Blocking the sun from your vision, you squint towards the hole, tapping the clubhead against your shoe.

Titus laughs, stepping beside you as Pernilla places a golf ball on the tee, adjusting it quietly. “I think we both know I don’t do easy,” You side eye him, giving him a blank look as if he wasn’t intentionally losing just to see you win. “Hey, don’t give me that look. It’s windy.”

You snicker slightly, nudging him forward as he makes his way towards the tee in the ground. You stand back just a few steps, watching as he positions himself beside the ball. Your eyes follow the movement of his arm as he reels it back, and for a second you’re actually convinced he’s gonna hit the ball force for. Y’know, taking the last round seriously. His hand ‘slips’, the clubhead barely nudging the ball two feet away from where you both stood.

You gasp loudly, pointing a perfectly manicured finger his way. “Hey! I said don’t hold back.”

His brows lift slightly in faux offense, motioning one hand to the club. “I’m not. My hand slipped.”

“Fine, I’ll try not to wipe the floor with you.”

You brush a stray strand of hair from your face, waiting as Pernilla placed your ball on the tee before positioning yourself in a familiar stance as your husband. Your eyebrows furrow, eyes glued onto the ball in concentration as you drew your arm back up into a 90° angle. With as much strength as you can gather, you swing your arm forward, your clubhead clacks against the ball in a loud thwack.

The ball flies out a good 70 something yards, stumbling over the grass as it rolls to a slow stop somewhere beside a neatly trimmed bush. Titus lets out a low whistle, meeting your excited smile with an approving grin. “Beautiful swing.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

Titus steps four steps towards his ball, as you move horizontally to watch him. Your eyes follow his arm as it moves back before rushing down in a crisp clip against the ball. It flies out, a small chunk of dirt flying off somewhere in the distance as his ball moves towards yours. It falls short by a few feet, perfectly angled towards yours. You clap excitedly, rushing up to Titus’ side. Your hand wraps around his arm as you jump up slightly. “That was perfect!”

He turns his head towards you, a boyish looking grin on his lips at the praise. He doesn’t respond, mimicking your nonchalant shrug from earlier. Instead of taking the time to walk towards the ball, the both of you turn towards the cart again. The thirty second walk time is cut off to a quick six second drive because Titus refuses to allow you to walk and potentially get your pretty little shoes fucked up.

It only takes another heavy swing for the ball to go into the hole, and honestly you were lucky. If it weren’t for that tree in the distance, you would’ve overshot by a foot. But thankfully the thick trunk knocked the ball backwards into the hole in a satisfying plink. Titus follows in suit with two more swings.

By the time you check the score points, your 35 has turned into a 15, which somehow turned into a 10. But considering the happy smile on your face, no one is saying shit about the obvious cheating. Titus sets your club into its corresponding pink bag, before ignoring his own club so he could help you into the cart. Pernilla is probably putting his equipment away as the two of you scramble into the vehicle, but Titus doesn’t check so neither do you.

Your arms are wrapped around his neck, lips pressing repeatedly against his cheek in eager, little peppers. One hand grips the wheel to keep from driving the two of you into a bush as the other is buried comfortably under your skirt. His large hand is heavy against your ass, palm squeezing and gripping your cheek as he revels in your kisses.

“You did great, hon. And that last swing?” He whistles again at the memory, earning a happy hum from you. You lean back slightly, giving a half hearted attempt to wipe away the gloss shining on his cheek. “Leave it, I don’t mind.”

Your hand finds its way back to his shoulder, squealing in surprise as he gives your ass a firm smack. “Stop that, Pernilla might see.” You whisper slightly, but you don’t make an attempt to move his hand away. He looks down at you with a slow grin, intentionally giving your ass another squeeze and a heavy smack.

“I think a little ass smacking is beyond her worries.” You smile despite yourself, running your other hand up and down the curve of his neck. He leans into you, tilting his head down to meet the loud mwah of your lips as you press another kiss to his cheek. His fingers dip under the sides of your panties, pressing against the flesh of your ass for better feel.

“I think I deserve a reward.”

“Yeah?” He looks at you again as he parks the car at the entrance of the Danforth Manor. “Whaddya want?”

You purse your lips as he helps you off, looking up into the sky while trying to recollect the newer things he bought you. A new pair of Jimmy Choo pumps, a new Dior handbag, a gold Chanel necklace. “Hmm,” you trail off as he rests a hand on your hip to keep you in reach as the two of you climb up the steps. “Oh! We should get matching bracelets. Wouldn’t that be so cute?”

“Don’t we already have matching bracelets?”

“Oh, phooey,” as the two of you step inside the Manor, you’re enveloped in a rush of cool air. “Fine, rings then.”

He hesitates, momentarily glancing down at the flashy wedding ring on your finger but being smart he doesn’t correct you again. “That sounds good.”

You turn to him with a soft smile, planting a kiss to his lips. “And I want another handbag. Maybe that Gucci one we saw last month.”

He shifts forward, pressing another kiss to your lips. “The ostrich one?”

“Mhmm… oh, oh! And I saw this cute pair of earrings too.”

“From Gucci?”

“No, Chanel. But I was looking online, and Prada has this gorg—” Titus’ hand moves towards yours, intertwining your fingers with his before kissing your forehead gently to politely shut you up.

“Maybe we should just go shopping this weekend.”

“Great idea.”