Three Over Par Page 4

  Fingers hooked into my knickers and slid them to one side, exposing my blood-plumped sex. I wondered what it looked like, if it was pretty and a turn-on. I kept it trimmed with a short crop of dark hair on my mons, and my vagina lips and arse waxed clean. The Pro had commented numerous times how much he loved my bare flesh, but he was always so turned on by me I think he’d have loved my genitals even if they were covered in a thick thatch.

  “I bet he loves that smooth pussy of yours. I bet he wants to slide his tongue over it and flick that swollen clit while I fuck your tight little arse.”

  I closed my eyes. It wasn’t often the Pro’s mutterings affected me but as he whispered, my need grew. I wanted to do exactly as he said. I wanted his cock pumping my arse, his hands caressing my breasts, fingers tweaking my aching nipples. And I wanted Daniel with his mouth to me, worshipping as I tangled my fingers in that gorgeous gold-streaked hair.

  The Pro’s right forefinger traced small circles around my nipple, while his left hand delicately brushed the slippery folds of my vagina. I leaned against him, fantasising that those soft fondles belonged to Daniel. The Pro pressed his mouth against my neck, his tongue flicking hot and wet over my skin. The length of his penis shaft sat grooved in the hollow between my arse cheeks, rubbing slowly up and down.

  He slithered his mouth back to my ear. His breath was fast and thrilling and caused my flesh to pucker and the fine hairs on my neck to stand erect, as if I was freezing instead of broiling. “Imagine it, babe. Two men fucking you. Two mouths, two tongues, two big cocks. All for your pleasure.”

  He didn’t need to tell me any more. My imagination was already overflowing with that fantasy. But without Daniel, that’s all it was. A fantasy. I opened my eyes and once more scanned the scrub for him. The Pro continued his erotic tease, finger and thumb rolling my nipple, fingers sliding between my lips, tantalisingly close to my clit, and breathy descriptions of what was to come whispered in my ear.

  I mouthed Daniel’s name, silently begging.

  The top-knot pigeon took flight, the whir of its wings loud in the grove’s enclosed space.

  The Pro’s fingers found my swollen, juice-slicked clitoris. “He’s coming.”

  Anticipation rose with the swell of my desire. The Pro squeezed my rigid nipple, his hips grinding against my arse as he rubbed two splayed fingers either side of my clit. My breaths turned old and raspy. I tried to think of something inane to keep my excitement at bay but the Pro was ahead of me.

  “I gotta fuck you, babe.” His voice came rough and carnal. “Now.”

  He led me to the fallen log and leaned against it as he dug his cock from his shorts. I stood with my back to him, facing the direction from where Daniel always appeared. The Pro didn’t waste time with further foreplay. As soon as his cock was out and sheathed, he flicked up my skirt, tugged my G-string aside and buried himself in my cunt with a relieved groan.

  For a delicious moment he rested and I savoured the throb inside. I’m forever amazed by this feeling of repletion, the way we mould together like matching geometric shapes, the physical perfection of mating animals.

  I once thought this was enough. I know now it’s not. I’m human and need more.

  I need Daniel.

  As if conjured by my mind, a solid figure slipped from behind a tree-trunk and began to step slowly toward me.

  “Told you,” the Pro said, his thrusts matching the rhythm of Daniel’s stride.

  Daniel’s expression remained inscrutable but his eyes were anchored to mine, as if the Pro was something beyond his concern. It was mesmerising and strange. I was being slowly fucked by one man while my heart and body reached for another. Perhaps Daniel sensed my yearning and that was why he came.

  He halted in front of me and touched my upturned face, gently stroking the back of his hand down my cheek. I tried to stand fully upright but the Pro’s hand was on my back, holding me bent, and I was caught in an awkward stance with my face level with Daniel’s chest. I wanted him to kiss me like he did the previous week but my position made it appear as though I wanted to suck him off instead.

  His rough thumb ran over my lips. Under the black sky and shadowy, rustling tree canopy his eyes appeared tortoiseshell, like an autumn forest at dusk. His mouth was closed and his head slightly tilted, looking at me with curious intensity, almost clinically, as though I was some new and bizarre creature. And all the while, the Pro was gliding his cock in and out in long, steady thrusts as my insides thrummed with fiery desire.

  His eyes anchored to mine, Daniel crouched down until he was kneeling. I bowed to place our faces level. For a long second he ran his gaze over my face, roaming between my eyes and my mouth, looking for I don’t know what. Then his lips were on mine and he was breathing into me, filling my lungs with joy.

  I expected to come immediately, as I had the previous week, but this time the tenderness of his kiss left me swamped in a euphoria derived from pure emotion. My rapture was almost religious, as if I found God in his kiss. Yet this was no divine intervention. Only the blissful intoxication of love. And I was so narcotised by it I didn’t feel the rain until the Pro started to talk and dragged me awake.

  “Fuck, it’s raining.”

  Daniel’s lips moved across my cheek in a succession of kisses as light as the raindrops. “Do you like this, Lucy?” His whisper was deep and husky and sent flutters through my chest. “Me kissing you?”

  “Yes.” I wanted to tell him I loved it, that I loved him, but I was afraid of snapping the fragile chain we had linked. Instead I said the next best thing. “It’s beautiful.”

  He sighed and pressed his cheek against mine as his hand brushed drops from my wet hair, and I felt as though we were alone in some special heaven designed for us, wrapped in peace.

  The sky turned brilliant with the storm’s first lash of lightning. Seconds later the thunder arrived, and the air reverberated with the fall of fat raindrops. The charged atmosphere seemed to jolt us all. Urgency swamped us, washing away our humidity-induced torpor. The Pro began to fuck me in earnest, his hands moving to my hips, pulling me hard against him as he drove his cock deep into my cunt.

  “Christ, you’re tight, babe. So.” His shaft glided slickly out. “Fucking.” He rammed his cock home, the next word coming out in a gasp. “Tight.”

  Daniel’s cheek jerked from mine. He stared at me before flicking a glance at the Pro. A scowl flittered across his face and disappeared so fast I was unsure if it was a trick of the darkening day or the rain hazing my vision.

  The rain was falling hard now, in great fat drops that splattered loudly on the dry ground. Daniel’s tawny hair turned black. His khaki work shirt plastered his skin, moulding around the thick muscles of his arms and chest. I thought of touching him, sliding my hand down the rain-speckled surface of his skin, lapping at the water with my tongue, tasting every testosterone-infused drop.

  Another crack of lightning turned the murky day bright. Thunder followed only a second apart. Daniel returned his gaze to mine, and leaned in to press his mouth against my ear.

  “Can I touch you, Lucy?”

  I nodded, suddenly aware of the Pro’s pants, the strain in his breaths, and recognised he was desperately trying not to come. I didn’t want him to. The storm could rage all it liked. This was my moment with Daniel and I didn’t want it to end.

  I expected Daniel to reach for my breasts or lower, but instead he slid his hands up my neck, his thumbs on my cheeks, his palms cupping my chin, and kissed me deeply. A luscious, sweet-breathed kiss that sent my heart tumbling and quivers across my goosefleshed skin. His lips were soft and yielding, yet the kiss bold and raw, a hungry exploration of my mouth.

  No man’s kiss could ever feel the same as Daniel’s. As he captured my lips, he imprisoned my soul, a jailor who couldn’t take enough of me. A jailor to whom I couldn’t give enough of myself.

  Our passion continued as if nothing else existed in the world. No storm, no Pro, no golf course. Nothing. Wate
r cascaded over us, tracking down our cheeks, running between our lips and into our mouths. I savoured and swallowed it, knowing it had run over his skin, picking up traces of him. I was so engrossed in his mouth, I didn’t feel the slip of his hands across my skin until his thumb brushed my right nipple. A moan erupted deep from my chest and was absorbed by his mouth. The smouldering fire of my lust rose again, and my muscles latched tight around the Pro’s cock.

  “Yeah, babe. That’s it. Clench that pussy.”

  Daniel’s lips stopped moving. The Pro’s fingers dug harder into my hips as he drove his cock past my contracting muscles.

  “Oh, fuck, yeah. You love this, don’t you, babe? Love my big cock in that tight hole of yours. Fucking you hard.”

  Daniel drew away a little until he could see my eyes. A question swirled in his, but I couldn’t answer it, I was too swamped with the pleasure his touch and kiss unleashed. For three beautiful thrusts Daniel watched me, then the Pro slipped the tip of a finger into my arse and I released another guttural moan, interrupting his scrutiny.

  He mouthed my name before pressing his lips firm against mine, his tongue searching, his breath as hard and fast as the Pro’s thrusts.

  Both hands cupped my breasts, the thumbs brushing my taut nipples. The Pro muttered more carnally induced absurdities as he dug his finger farther into my arse and started finger-fucking it. The thrill sent my legs quaking. I grasped at the collar of Daniel’s shirt, needing to find balance.

  The sky overflowed with noise. Thunder, thick rain, the agitation of a million leaves. Ignoring the danger, I concentrated instead on the flick of Daniel’s fingers, on the shudders that gripped my body, on the throb building inside me, on his breath in my mouth.

  “I want to touch you,” I whispered, asking permission as he had done with me.

  At my words, Daniel dropped one hand to his work trousers and unfastened the button and zip. I removed my mouth and glanced down. The sight of him turned my rapid pulse sprinting. His cock stood smooth, pale, erect and shiny with moisture. It was broader than the Pro’s and, from the way it extended toward his belly, I determined much longer.

  Huge and lovely, like him.

  He placed his hand over mine and guided it toward his cock, hazel eyes locked on mine. The silky tip rubbed against my palm and I closed my eyes, savouring this moment. Daniel’s breath brushed my lips as he hovered his mouth close to mine, and I heard his sharp intake as I closed my hand around his shaft and gently began to stroke.

  We didn’t kiss, only breathed and gasped our pleasure as we caressed one another.

  “Luce, babe.”

  I detected desperation in the Pro’s voice. He wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.

  Daniel must have heard it too. He closed his fingers and thumbs around my nipples and rolled them. The action sent trills straight into my groin and I released a mewl of excitement.

  “Come for me, Lucy.”

  “And you?”

  His eyes glittered. “I’m ready when you are.”

  At the end of his last word, I let myself go, jamming myself back onto the Pro’s penis and finger, relishing Daniel’s tug on my breasts, savouring the feel of his turgid, thick cock in my hand. Heat surged through my groin, a storm of glorious sensation.

  My flesh prickled with the rise of orgasm. The rain had cooled my skin but I was boiling inside, a slippery cauldron of lust. The Pro’s thrusts became lunges, his cock diving deep and butting against my cervix. He buried his finger to the hilt in my arse and left it there. I clenched my fist around Daniel’s cock, letting it slide through my palm before polishing the slick knob.

  Our breaths and moans merged with the storm.

  The Pro bayed his coming. “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck.”

  As the first spurt of the Pro’s come hit my insides, my orgasm pulled up from my legs and shot slippery waves through my cunt. I released an inarticulate noise that sounded like a convulsive cry. Daniel ceased his nipple tugs but his grip remained tight on the nubs. I slid my hand once more over the head of his cock and sobbed as he gasped my name. A jet of hot sperm struck my hand, then another, spurring another wave to crash through my insides. My cunt muscles clamped around the Pro so tightly he couldn’t push past, but by that time he was spent and stopped trying. He pressed his hand to my back as I shuddered and shook and rode out the rush.

  Daniel was done too. His shoulders heaved with the depth of his breaths.

  Around us, the rain still fell.

  We said nothing as we recovered. I kept my eyes locked on Daniel’s, hoping that in my expression he’d see how I felt about him. That I might catch a glimpse of how he felt about me.

  There was softness around his eyes and mouth but that was all I could fathom from his unreadable expression. I waited a few seconds more before opening my mouth to speak. He stopped me with a kiss. It was tender and lovely but short, and as soon as he pulled away he was rising to his feet and fixing his trousers.

  The moment they were fastened, he touched his fingers to my sopping hair. “Go home, Lucy, before you catch a cold and make yourself sick.”

  And in a repeat of our previous encounter, he walked off into the trees.

  But I already am, I thought despairingly. For you.

  Chapter Four

  Although I spent the following week distracted and agonising over whether Daniel would show, he turned up during my next lesson, and the next. My anxiety eased but never left. Those brief moments were all I had of him. We didn’t meet for coffee or walks or dinners or drinks. We didn’t have quiet phone conversations deep into the night or sit companionably in front of our televisions laughing or crying over a film. Or roll around our beds together in a playful romp that eventually slipped into loving intimacy. We didn’t have anything except a once-a-week fuck.

  Daniel became bolder with each meeting, yet never did anything without asking first. If I wanted something, he did it without question or hesitation, and he never came until I had reached that ecstatic state.

  Only once did he acknowledge the Pro and then it was cold and short. It didn’t come as a surprise. Each time the Pro uttered his inanities Daniel stiffened. Often he’d stop what he was doing and stare at me in a way that made me uncomfortable, as if by permitting the Pro to talk to me like that, I devalued myself.

  The Pro never said anything derogatory. If he had I’d have made an immediate complaint. His utterances were just his method for getting his rocks off, and harmless. I tolerated them and sometimes even found them exciting, but from Daniel’s expression, I could tell he hated them.

  The first time he made love to me put an end to the Pro’s fun. I was sandwiched between them, legs wrapped around Daniel’s waist, my back pressed against the Pro’s chest. We had yet to perfect our technique and the position was awkward, but they were both inside me. Daniel huge and turgid and thrusting gently as he kissed me and caressed my breasts. The Pro forced up against the fallen tree, his cock rooted into my arse-passage.

  With the first “Fuck, yeah, babe” Daniel lifted his head and eyeballed the Pro. His voice was low and there was no mistaking the menace it held. “Shut it” was all he said and from that point on, bar grunts and moans, in Daniel’s presence the Pro remained silent.

  I almost felt sorry for him but I was glad he had done it. The peace allowed me to focus on Daniel and imagine we were alone, making quiet, sensual love under nature’s gaze. Fantasy was, after all, the only thing I had to cling to.

  Daniel still arrived at Hakea Lodge every Thursday at twelve-thirty but, given her robust health, it was difficult to find a reason to be near Mrs. Haddon. Plus I was nursing a gentle-hearted elderly man whose life lagged a little more with each passing day. Mr. Carlisle’s family came when they could, sitting by his bedside and stroking his arms and cheeks with loving hands, waiting for the inevitable. Nonetheless, too many hours passed when he was alone, and my heart clenched with the thought of him facing a solitary death, without someone who cared to hold his h
and as he took his last, rattling breath.

  Thursdays, when I could, I hovered near Mrs. Haddon’s room. If I had a few moments to spare, I’d offer to massage arthritis cream into her legs under the pretence it would make her outing more agreeable. Responsibility and compassion, however, usually took me elsewhere. I had valuable work to do, and opportunities to nourish my love-starved heart would arise on other days. I may have possessed the luxury of time, but the majority of my patients did not.

  On the rare occasions I was still present when Daniel arrived, he’d simply nod in my direction, his face determinedly blank but his body tense, and wait for me to leave. I’d brush past him, hollow and hurt, vowing to never again succumb to my pathetic want. I wouldn’t be a soppy-eyed dog panting for his affection. I had more pride than that. Yet giving him up was proving impossible.

  On Sundays when I played golf in the mixed competition, I searched for him on the course. Grass has no respect for weekends and a greenkeeper’s job is endless. Among myriad other things, there are sprinklers to be moved, leaking pipes to be fixed and endless mowing to be done. Sometimes I caught him zipping around on a quad bike, the sun touching his hair, tanned arms golden-haired and muscled as he gripped the controls. A spurt of adrenaline would send my stomach somersaulting and invariably I’d duff my next shot, my concentration ruined by his transitory presence.

  At times I stood in the golf club car park staring at the greenkeeper’s shed, trying to summon the courage to walk over to him, to capture a few minutes alone with the man I’d fallen for. A taste of normality, of genuine human contact untarnished by sex. Courage never came to me, only fear of rejection, fuelled by his inconstancy and my self-doubt.

  The day Mr. Carlisle passed was the day Daniel finally made contact. He couldn’t have chosen a worse time. I was a professional with intimate experience of death and dying but I cared about my patients deeply, even the crotchety ones. Each passing left a scar on my spirit, and Mr. Carlisle’s was no exception.