Courtney: The Golf Cart Girl Ch. 04

Big Tits

While this installment doesn’t feature a lot of Courtney, the golf cart girl, readers have asked for a update of what has transpired at the South Jersey course that featured a lot of naughty behavior.

*****

One cool October day I was sitting in the cart barn in the back of the lot away from the golf course clubhouse, taking a quick break, thinking about what I always thought about – Courtney.

Courtney Connors was the golf cart girl who I’d worked with over the summer at Stone Harbor Golf, where we innocently flirted and joked around. She was sweet, but had a deep dark secret that I knew. That secret? She was sucking and fucking with a couple of the members, not for the sex nor the excitement but, well, maybe for those things but really for the contributions they made to her scholarship fund.

You see, then got what they wanted, while Courtney had a funded scholarship earned from their real estate business. Oh, it was on the up and up, a real deal!

I’d observed her vigorously fellatng Mr. Gamble on numerous occasions that summer in the back lot of the club, and doing the same with Mr. Mack. I’d even observed her fucking Mr. Mack on one of the course’s pristine, undulating greens, and also saw her paying off one of the men’s lost golf bets with a couple customers.

At first I couldn’t understand. I mean, she was so prim, proper and sweet.

And yet, Courtney was a whore.

Oh, I know, that’s harsh. I mean, money didn’t officially change hands, but it did in the deeds for of a scholarship that only she could earn. For me, it was awesome, watching the sex, and I never had a problem taking care of myself at night thinking about the exploits at the club.

Of course, it was also kind of cool knowing that Courtney’s boyfriend wasn’t getting laid, something he set as his goal for the summer, while his prim and proper girlfriend without his knowing it was getting more cock than a South Street hooker. Too bad for him!

I had the pictures, so to speak, so I could have confronted the girl and possibly blackmailed her into putting out for me, but I just couldn’t get myself to do the deed. That was most likely because late that summer lightening hit twice as I observed the wife of one of the real estate guys, Mrs. Gamble, making her own king of whoopee.

Yes, I caught Mrs. Gamble in the act – she was fucking the head golf professional!

Not once, not twice, but on a regular basis. So, here was Mr. getting happily sucked off by Courtney, while Mrs. Was getting laid by the golf pro. Oh, by the way, another interesting tidbit was the golf pro was Courtney’s father. Oh, what an evil sweater was being woven done at the Jersey shore.

Once Courtney went off to her freshman year at Villanova I thought her exploits would end, but that fall on a couple occasions she was back in town to see her father. And, luckily for me, on those occasions it just happened she’d “see” her benefactors, Mr. Gamble and Mr. Mack.

By see I mean she had a bird’s eye view of their cocks, görükle escort as she’d blow them in the parking lot just like over the summer. I’d caught them several times, and each was so very erotic as the pretty young girl had special oral talents.

But at this point I’d moved my sleuthing to Mrs. Gamble and her paramour. They had a regular Wednesday date. Wednesday was ladies’ day, and Mrs. Gamble always was always in the last group off the tee. When she’d finish her round she’d sit and bull with the other ladies, of course, but would then head to the locker room and linger there while others left.

Cleaned up, and after the pro left his assistants go for the day and close the pro shop, she’d slither her way over to the love nest.

I had found the perfect spot for watching the two, behind bushes so I wasn’t able to be seen which offered a great view of the back room cluttered with boxes where the twosome held their tryst. It was a great vantage point as I was out of their view while I could not only see but hear their activities.

It was quite comical, actually, as Mrs. Gamble would always change into the pro’s favorite outfit, a tennis outfit that featured a short white skirt. It sat well on her five foot, three-inch frame. He loved parading the woman around prior to pulling her close.

His favorite activity was bending the Mrs. Gamble over a desk in the room, lifting her skirt, and licking her from behind before slipping his dick into the woman and banging her.

She called the shots once they coupled, telling the man to move faster, slower, whatever. And he surely didn’t mind taking instruction while holding her hips with his hands and plunging away at the love nest of his married lover. The cheating couple would work together for several minutes before finishing their act. For me, it was so hot, but for them, it sounded like an 80s porn. The two would say all kinds of things while in the act. Naughty!

On one occasion Mrs. Gamble must have really enjoyed the action, she groaned she was cumming, and the pro kept thrusting away at her from behind. All of a sudden he pulled out of the woman, directed her onto her knees, and he whacked off and shot his sticky sum all over her face. It was amazing. Mrs. Gamble wasn’t amused, calling him a bastard, but he calmly kissed and made up with the woman and the two parted after making out for a while.

What I couldn’t do with Courtney became my obsession with Mrs. Gamble – I decided to confront her and take advantage of the situation.

As luck would have it Mrs. Gamble asked me to get her car to the local quick lube center while she was playing golf. That was a service we’d do for the members from time to time, nothing out of the ordinary there. I did, and later in the day she smiled and thanked me, forking over a five-dollar tip for my special services.

We joked a little, and I complimented her on her appearance. “You look great, Mrs. Gamble, you’ve been working out. You have a special look these days.”

She bursa escort bayan blushed, and hushed me with her hand.

“That’s a little inappropriate, young man.”

We spoke for a little, chit chatting, and then she turned to leave.

I startled her with my next line.

“Mrs. Gamble, do you like cock?”

She turned, glared, and quickly told me I was going to be fired. Immediately. As soon as she got to the general manager.

I smiled and handed her a little folder. Her eyes widened. She was looking at herself, draped over a desk getting laid. On her knees sucking cock – a great shot because it showed her pretty face. There were a dozen photos in all, and I reminded her to speak to the GM about the audio tape of her moans and groans as well as a little video of her begging for cock.

“Oh my God, where did you get this? No!”

Letting the scene fully percolate, I smiled at the woman.

“There are more where they came from, Mrs. Gamble, so I don’t really think you want to speak to the general manager or anyone for that matter. I think we should keep this between ourselves. These aren’t the kind of photos you would want the other members at the club seeing, especially the ladies club. Heck, don’t think you’d like your pastor to see, your homeowner’s association or, for that matter, your husband. But if you want them too, by all means tell the GM.”

The pause was priceless.

I swear she started shaking, and tears began to well up.

“What do you want?”

I had her over a barrel – heck, down the road I literally would – but at this moment I merely smiled and spoke about Mr. Unhappy.

“Mrs. Gamble, I don’t have much luck with the girls. And you are so very beautiful, sexy, and so untouchable,” was my line. “I have been so very hot for you. I mean, I jerk off to your vision at night.”

The woman looked at me. “You do? I’m old enough to be your mother. Why?”

“Because you are so attractive. I have gotten this fantasy in my mind of you, well, you know, jerking me off. Oh, I’d love you to do that.”

She mumbled something about being even, but of course this was all BS. I just wanted to start slow with her and have her at my fingertips!

“Please?” was the ask.

It was clear she was thinking of her options, but given the evidence she needed to keep me happy and silent on the subject. She knew her goose was cooked, and was calculating the odds of a little hanky panky getting her off the hook.

“Where?”

I mentioned her car, and directed her to the back lot, the same overflow back lot where I first caught Courtney with her husband. Ah, the irony of that.

The quick drive paused only with her complaining that someone might see us. I said I’d keep an eye out, and besides, it was off season and nobody would be driving to the back lot. She nodded, then told me to take “it” out.

Smiling, I replied that it was her job! I mean, the entire hand job included the working of my cock out of bursa escort my jeans, don’t you think?

She worked, unzipping my pants and reaching inside to pull out my cock. It wasn’t easy, especially as her rummaging through my trousers had given rise to my manhood. Still, after a bit of tugging, it was out in the open.

“I’m not happy about this young man!” said the woman.

I merely said I knew, but that the faster she

got started the faster it would be over. And it would be our little secret.

Calmed by my words, I suspect, she began slowly holding and stroking my cock. She played with it at first, letting her fingers slide down the shaft and to my balls. There she cupped them, mentioning she could made a fist and hurt be greatly. Knowing she was kidding, I said that would just make the hand job take longer to accomplish its goal.

Mrs. Gamble looked around the lot, all the while playing with my dick, before taking a firm grasp of it and starting an up and down stroking motion that brought me to full attention. It felt marvelous.

The woman alternated looks at my cock with looks around the locale, making sure no spying eyes were readily visible.

I wanted to tell her about her husband and Courtney being watching from my secluded vantage point, but that would have served no purpose. Instead, I just enjoyed her ministrations.

Damn, it was so hot getting stroked off my the much older woman. She was working my cock well!

Still, she stopped and reached for her purse.

“We need a little lube, here, to make this easier, and I have some hand cream.”

Squeezing the cream onto my cock, she slowly coated my cock with the slick stuff that had a smell of rose. Once worked in, she began moving her hand up and down the shaft once again and, wow, it was so very hot. I closed my eyes and imagined her mouth was on my dick, and that brought for a gasp and then I began shooting my man sauce.

Looking down I observed that the first shot actually went high into the air and hit her hair, while the rest of the stuff merely kept pumping out of the dock and landing on her hands and my legs. She kept working the cock as

I moaned my appreciation.

Spent, I thanked her for a job well done.

We cleaned ourselves up as best we could – girls always seem to have tissues and such in their purse – and made our way back to the main not. But not before I assured the woman that while it was awesome, it was not the end of her ordeal.

“Look, the photos – and there are more where they came from – are damaging. I think this is the beginning of a very nice relationship. In the meantime, nothing different with your trysts with the golf pro. If I suspect that’s broken off, these also may be sent out,” I said, pointing to the photos.

“Did he put you up to this?” asked the woman.

I replied he hadn’t a clue. I just didn’t want anything to change right now.

Later, I thought of the irony of getting a hand job from the wife of the man Courtney had blown in the same spot numerous times. That night I thought about the future and all the great possibilities.

I kept circling back to getting blown in the same exact location as Mr. Gamble by his lovely wife. Now that was hot. Could I make it happen was the question?


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