After the swings against the
imaginary ball he released me from his grip and told me to do a few practice
swings. I was still awkward but he assured me it was better than before. He set
a tee in the grass and put his personal ball from his pocket on it.
He knelt before me, made me spread
my legs to the proper awkward stance, again got behind me and put me into his
grip, his cheek unabashedly tighter against mine. He was chewing gum. He snugged
his pelvis up against my butt reminding me when Darryl and I made pottery. He
told me we were going to swing and hit the ball but do it slowly.
We swung in unionism, not quick or
jerky fast but sure and steady, his arms brushing my breasts as the club hit
the ball. The ball flew, up, and up and landed further than I thought possible
based on our swing. It lay out on the green not too far back from the others. He
released me and I turned and looked up at him. He was smiling and I suspected
aroused. I told him I’d get his ball but he laughed and said it was mine now and
to have a fun game, told me he would give me more golf tips another time and
left to the restaurant.
The 4 of us hopped into our golf
carts and sped to the balls lying on the grass. When putting on the green they
teased and warned he was a professional seducer. I stumbled through nine holes
with divots aplenty and putts to and fro past the holes. They didn't keep my
score. It was not until the seventh hole they stopped teasing me about my golf pro
It was near dark when we finished and a glance to the pro shop showed it was closed. I drove home and told my husband about my game of golf but left out my "private" lesson. He recommended I take it up as a hobby. I told him I wasn’t good at it, never would be and didn't think I’d try it again.
Vixen, however, purred since my
lesson and put her paw down. I missed Erica. I could talk to her about what
happened. I drove by the course every day commuting but avoided turning into
the driveway for two weeks. I skipped the next ladies golf day. Skipping golf,
however, was not avoiding contact. I didn’t want them with me if I went.
Afraid to go by myself I found
another woman to go with. She was attractive and I hoped, in a way, she would
be the space invader's victim, not me. We went in the morning when the grass
was still wet with dew. Again I rented clubs and we played nine holes with me again
having an astronomical score. The space invader was nowhere to be seen. I
Afterwards we ate lunch at the
restaurant. When the bill came I pulled out my credit card as it was my invite.
The waitress came and said the bill was already paid. I looked up and he was
standing by the cash register smiling. Anxiety swept me but I was thrilled.
I protested his paying at the counter but he
replied it was already done. He said he was afraid my first golf experience was
my last and he wanted me to play again. He set up a free appointment lesson the
following week and put it on his calendar note book then wrote the date and
time on his personal card and gave it to me.