Three Over Par Read online

  “Are you okay?”

  He blinks and smiles, returning from whatever fantasy land he’d travelled. “Yeah. Just thinking about stuff.”

  “Stuff?”

  He glances around and grabs me from behind and grinds his groin into my arse. “You know, babe. Stuff.” His hands slide to my breasts and find my nipples. He rubs his palms over them. The nubs expand under his caress, and his ministrations cause my sex to twitch and a shudder to squiggle down my spine.

  “Oh, stuff,” I say, emphasising the word. “I get it now.”

  The grinding continues. His cock is turgid and nestled between my arse cheeks. My nipples are gripped between his index and middle fingers. He tugs on them, knowing what it does to me, and presses his lips to my neck. His tongue is fiery against my breeze-cooled skin.

  “You ready, babe? Ready for my big cock up that tight arse of yours?”

  I am. I’m more than ready, but whether I’m ready to face what we might not find in the clearing, I don’t know.

  A hand creeps down my ribcage, toward my taut belly.

  “I have to take my shot first, Robbie.”

  He grins into my skin and plants a light kiss before releasing me. “Go on, then.”

  I shake my head at him. He knows damn well I’ll struggle to even hit the ball, let alone hook it into the trees. My hands are trembling again and my sex pulses intensely, as if my heart has taken residence in my groin.

  I don’t bother with the pre-shot routine. I simply walk up to the ball, take a stance and swing. To my shock, it flies straight. The Pro rolls his eyes and I poke my tongue out at him. He laughs, a carefree sound in a clouded afternoon.

  Our walk to the cart is rapid. As we drive to the ball, I place my hand on his groin and stroke his cock. The Pro’s eyes narrow and glaze over.

  The moment we’re in line with our special place I squint into the shadows, my heart galloping, hoping for a glimpse of Daniel.

  “He’ll be there, babe.”

  “Yes,” I reply, though there’s no conviction in my tone.

  We stop to retrieve my ball before trundling off the fairway and parking in the rough close to the treeline. Daniel has yet to appear, and my eyes are beginning to ache with the strain of searching. The Pro grabs the ball from my hand and tosses it into the undergrowth.

  He reaches across to tweak my left nipple. His eyes are now feverish with anticipation. “It’s time.”

  I nod and alight, my focus still on the trees, on a hint of khaki fabric, a flash of autumnal eye or sun-kissed hair. The Pro takes my hand and leads me to the toppled tree. Leaf litter and fallen twigs scrunch and slide under my feet. Moisture hangs in the air like a damp shroud. I’m aware of everything, on alert for Daniel.

  The Pro moves behind me, his firm cock once more fitting into the cleft of my arse. “He’s watching. You know he is.”

  “I can’t see him, Robbie.”

  His hands slither up my shirt and skim the sensitive, soft flesh of my waist. “He’ll be here. He’s just waiting for you to be ready.” Fingers tickle the undersides of my breasts. They slip under the wire of my bra. The lacy cups lift and snap up, releasing my bare breasts into his hands. His palms are cool and feel delicious against my heated flesh. “He likes it when you’re wet and begging for it.”

  Daniel doesn’t need to wait, I’m already wet and needy, but I can still perceive no sign of him, and fear is rinsing through me, washing away my arousal like a broken-banked river.

  The Pro senses my distress and maintains his encouragement, his fingers working my nipples, his breath hot in my ear, tongue curling around my lobe, and the constrained shaft of his cock massaging my arse. A breeze rises and blows water drops from leaves onto our heads. One hits my cheek and slips down to my throat. He laps at it with his tongue as his hand drifts down my stomach and traces circles around my belly-button.

  His breath comes hoarse, the pressure on my arse increasing. The Pro wants to move things on. A fire reignites in my cunt, stoked by his clever manipulation of my body. Fingers dig lower, stealing under the waistband of my skirt and tucking beneath the triangular front of my G-string. I lean back and push my groin forward, summoning his expert touch.

  “Yeah, babe. That’s it. Get that hot pussy ready.”

  An electric shock throttles down my legs as the Pro slips his fingers between my lips and caresses my clit. I gasp and stiffen, bracing for the next charge. He obliges, softly rubbing the tips of his fingers over and under the bottom of my clit, tickling and drawing more guttural noises from my mouth. Instinctively, I part my legs, inviting him inside, my eyes drooping closed in expectance of the coming sensual fireworks.

  The Pro whispers, his voice sending exquisite trills over my shoulders. “Let’s show Dan that sweet pussy of yours.”

  A giddying swell of excitement rises in my chest. “He’s here?”

  “He’s watching.”

  I peer into the scrub. My heart kangaroo hops. Daniel is leaning against a tree, his eyes anchored to me. My mouth parts and I smile with joy, and for the briefest of seconds I think I see my smile returned but the wind blows more drops on us and the glimpse is lost.

  “He came,” I say breathlessly.

  “Of course he did, babe. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

  The Pro hoists my skirt, gathering it in one hand, drawing it upward like a raising curtain. Moist air hits my quivering thighs and causes a rash of goose bumps to break out. He holds the fabric bunched against my stomach so my arse and groin are now bared. I feel him reach for his trouser button and hear his zipper unfastening, then his free hand is burrowing into my slick cunt from behind. As he pants harshly into my ear, he drags lubrication to my arse, oiling it outside and in.

  Daniel moves closer. His hair is darker in the shadows, his eyes deeper, but his steps have purpose, as though he’s stalking me. The rolled sleeves of his shirt expose tensed forearms. His hands are loosely clenched. Thigh muscles bulge beneath twill. I glance at his groin. The outline of his erect penis sits huge, stretching the fabric.

  And I know that for this moment, this damp afternoon, this fuck, everything is going to be all right. He came. He couldn’t stay away. There’s hope we can exist beyond these lessons. That we will find a way to communicate in the world beyond this fantasy. That our love will fill the chasm that has existed between us.

  With a relieved sigh I relax and let my body go.

  Two fingers slither into my arse. I gasp at the forbidden pleasure of it. From the beginning I’ve enjoyed the sensation of the Pro’s fingers or cock inside that secret place. I experience a bite of pain, but it’s of an exquisite, shuddery type that makes me only desire it more. I push back so they penetrate deeply and then pull forward before pressing back onto them again. My cunt throbs and spasms, weeping juice into the gusset of my G-string.

  The Pro is practically wheezing with feverish lust. “You ready, babe? Cos I gotta fuck that tight hole now.”

  Daniel stops half a dozen feet away. I stare into the nature-granted depths of his eyes. “I’m ready.”

  The Pro props against the log and rolls on a condom. The pre-lubricated tip of his cock slides along my crack and probes for my entrance. I bend forward slightly to open my arse to him and make penetration easier. He fingers the puckered hole, expanding the muscle, then grips the fat head of his cock and presses it against my tight sphincter. I’m so lubricated and willing, it takes only minimal pressure for it to pop inside. I pant through the sting of my arse stretching, my eyes never leaving Daniel’s. The Pro rests, allowing us both time to savour the moment, the exhilarating sensation of his cockhead lodged in that constricted opening. The heady overture to another mind-blowing fuck.

  Inhaling unsteadily, he hooks an arm across my stomach and very slowly draws me against him. Little by little, his cock begins its slippery journey into my interior. An intense tremor shoots through my core, as though an earthquake has erupted in my groin and sent an aftershock of pleasure sweeping up my chest.
I gasp at the exquisite beauty of it.

  He reaches for one of my legs and raises it, locking his hand under my knee. My slick cunt opens to Daniel in pink invitation. I hold a hand out to him, fingers curled, gesturing him to come to me, to take me as his. Whatever equivocation he was harbouring disintegrates. He strides across the distance and presses his mouth to mine, his lips urgent, his tongue seeking mine. I fumble with his belt, button and zip, frantic to free that magnificent member. His cock springs from his underpants and almost slaps into my hand. I caress it, smoothing fingers over the pearl-dropped tip, sliding my palms over the silky turgid shaft, loving the hugeness of it, the thickness, the length. Knowing it will fill me better than any other.

  “Lucy.” His voice is hoarse with passion. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Love me.”

  His eyes close and he presses his forehead against mine. I’ve the oddest sense he wants to say something. Instead he slides his hand between my legs and delicately fingers my crevices, spreading juices over my lips, caressing my clit until I’m sobbing with need.

  “Now?”

  “Oh, God, please.”

  Taking his cue, the Pro reaches for my other leg and, using the tree as a brace, raises it until I’m resting against his chest, both legs hooked over his hands, his cock plunged to the root in my arse, and held wide open for Daniel. He remains still, waiting for Daniel’s penetration, breath raspy and rapid.

  Daniel’s movements are slow, drawing out the moment. He sheathes himself with deliberate leisure, knowing it stokes the furnace of our collective passion. As his mouth joins mine in a blazing kiss, his glans brushes my labia. Helpless need sends me shivering, the violent trembles conveying my want, my absolute, unquenchable desire for him.

  Carefully he peels apart the outer covering of my sex, creating ingress for his beautiful cock and prolonging this delicious anticipation. The tip sits against my throbbing flesh, just inside my entrance, while he ravishes me with his mouth. I telegraph my impatience with a moan that sounds like an eruption of pain. The Pro presses his teeth against my shoulder, trying to keep himself calm.

  “Please.” My voice is guttural and shaky. At my word, Daniel flexes and the cockhead slips inside. I wait, my nerves jangling, for the rest of him to follow, until I can’t stand this torture any longer and have to beg. “Please, Daniel, I need all of you.”

  His lips clamp on mine as he drives the shaft home.

  I breathe hard into his mouth, trying not to squeal. I’m full, engorged, overwhelmed. Trills scuttle over my skin like a million tiny creatures. The Pro’s and Daniel’s breaths come like mini-storms, and they settle into their rhythm, cocks rubbing the sensitive tissue separating my orifices and unleashing an animal inside me. Daniel’s eyes seem brighter and more leaf-coloured than ever. His breath and skin are as earthy and testosterone-scented as a bull. And the sensation of him, of the Pro, both sliding, both caressing—their hot, horny, muscular bodies sandwiching mine—fires me to another realm.

  They settle into syncopation, like pistons in a well-oiled engine. The Pro’s cock moves tightly in my arse, never drawing too far out, always filling. Daniel uses the length of his shaft, driving as far as he can, the tip bumping my cervix, before withdrawing to the extent his cockhead almost pops from my clinging cunt.

  The Pro scrapes his teeth along my shoulder and lower neck. Daniel trails kisses over my face, tiny nips that feel like the spatter of warm rain. He ventures to my temple and skips delicately down until his mouth is level with my ear. His breath unleashes spirals across my chest.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he confides on a sigh. It’s the first time he’s ever said such a thing.

  A silken cocoon knits around me. A weave of gossamer words that meshes with my love and strengthens my resolve. Daniel is the man I love and who loves me. It’s on his breath, in his eyes, in the rhythmic drive of his cock as we’re made one.

  No matter what, we’re meant to be together. Our communion may be flawed by the presence of another, but there’s no denying its purity. We make love with the perfection of linked souls, knotted emotions and chained hearts.

  And the sublime thrill of bodies in union.

  The thrusts are steady but each one brings me closer to orgasm. I clutch at Daniel’s shoulders, my legs wrapped around his hips, wanting more, wanting it faster, wanting this throb in my groin to explode. Wanting so much of him, it’s like a delirium.

  Guttural sounds erupt from my mouth. Each one louder than the last. Each in time with Daniel’s magical lunges.

  He presses his mouth against my ear. “Do you want to come?”

  I bite my lip and nod frantically.

  Immediately, the tempo changes. Daniel’s drives deepen, forcing me back onto the Pro until he, too, has his cock buried as deep as it will go into my arse. The strokes accelerate, faster and faster, pumping, thrusting. Daniel slides his hands up my shirt and rubs his thumbs over my nipples before gripping them between thumb and forefinger.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Fuck,” the Pro mutters.

  My toes curl as orgasm electrifies my muscles. My cunt tightens, clamping around the shaft of Daniel’s cock as though it wants to hold him trapped forever. My nerves tingle with energy, with that strange otherworldliness of orgasm. I gasp as the quivering starts.

  Daniel locks eyes with mine. “Come for me, Lucy.”

  I let go, floating on the cloud of pleasure Daniel has transported me to. As the first squirts of the Pro’s semen erupt in my arse, ripples of release cascade through my cunt and send waves down my legs and up my chest.

  The Pro stops moving, emptying himself inside me with a series of satisfied “Oh, fucks.” Daniel maintains his strokes, his grip on my nipples unrelenting, drawing my orgasm out. The squeeze of my muscles is too much. I’ve milked him to the point of no return. He comes in great spurts that quake my insides and send another round of pleasure cresting through my limbs and climax-buffeted torso.

  I kiss him as he succumbs, savouring his soft mouth, the sweetness of his breath, lost in that moment of precious intimacy, and imagine how incredible this will be once we’re alone.

  “Fuck,” the Pro says again, leaning his head against the back of mine and absently stroking my back.

  Daniel disengages his mouth and looks at me. “Was it good?”

  I smile. “Perfect.”

  His return smile holds immeasurable tenderness. “I’m glad.”

  We stare at one another, hearts hanging in the air, beating a tattoo of emotion between us. The wind sends another rattle through the canopy, and cold drops spatter onto our heads. Our intimacy dissolves. Daniel glances around and, with a kiss like the touch of a butterfly, withdraws his cock. The Pro pats my back and does the same.

  I haul down my skirt and fix my bra while the men tuck themselves away. Neither is limp but it’s too dangerous for us to linger. The fun is over and I’m torn between happiness and desolation. Soon, Daniel will kiss my forehead and leave.

  But I will never lose the memory of his expression when I asked him to love me. Or the sound of his voice when he told me I was beautiful.

  Chapter Eight

  “Fuck, I’m knackered,” the Pro says when we return to the cart. His forehead is lightly sheened with sweat, and a hypnotised cast slackens his face, as though he can’t believe what he’s just experienced. He grins at me as we roll down the fairway. “Good knackered, though.”

  I know the feeling. My limbs ache dully, the way they do after intense exercise. I collapse limply against the back rest, savouring the throbs of my body, the endorphin high. The blissful aftermath of total ravishment.

  The Pro stops close to the green and looks at me. “Ready?”

  “For what?”

  “To play.”

  I stare at him wide-eyed, presenting my best “you have got to be kidding” look.

  “Come on, you can do it. Just this hole and then the ninth.”

  I shake my head. “Not a chan
ce, Robbie. I can barely walk.”

  Something changes in his expression. Sadness creeps into his eyes. His weathered, freckled skin turns older, as though eroded by his hatred for this place. “Humour me. After today, you won’t have to do it again.”

  I close my eyes, ashamed. “You know, don’t you?”

  “I guessed.” His hand is on my hair, stroking gently.

  For a moment I hate myself. All this time he’s loved me and I never knew. All he had of me, just like all I had of Daniel, was sex. I’ve suffered enough of my own agony to understand, too late, his.

  “I’m sorry, Robbie.” It’s not enough but it’s all I can offer.

  He gives my head one last rub and smiles wistfully. “It’s okay. I know you are.” We stare at one another, lost in our could-have-beens, then the sparkle returns to his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. As I said, the sex—” a smile tugs my lips, “—has been fucking awesome.”

  We laugh like old friends, pressing our foreheads together and giggling like children. As our mirth subsides, the Pro—my friend, Robbie—places his palm on my cheek. His stormy sea eyes hold mine.

  “I’m going to miss you, Luce.”

  “I’ll miss you, too.” And I’m surprised to find it’s the truth.

  He smiles and brings his mouth to mine in a tender but short kiss. A lover’s farewell. His mouth is soft, his lips sweet, and I realise that if Daniel hadn’t entered our lives then perhaps there could have been something between us, something special.

  His hand drops and he winks at me. “Perhaps you could book in for another lesson sometime?”

  “And earn myself another wet patch on my skirt?”

  He shakes his head, feigning dismay. “You’ve a dirty mind, Lucy. I said a lesson, not sex.”

  I poke him in the ribs. “You made me this way. I was a nice girl before you came along.”

  “You’re still a nice girl.” He casts me a wry grin. “Daniel’s a lucky bloke.”

  At the mention of his name, a familiar shaft of heartache pierces my chest and threatens to raise tears in my eyes. Daniel has gazed at and spoken to me with love. He’s even made perfect, passionate love to me. But it’s all been secretive, as though tainted by shame, and without openness and honesty, we have nothing.