The Texas Swing

Posted in: Chance Meetings

In October of 2006, a young man in his mid twenties was playing in the second round of the Texas Open in San Antonio. He had had a decent first round and had started the day with two birdies and was climbing up the leader board.

Two ladies had watched his back nine from the previous day and decided to go watch him again for Round 2. One, a tall brunette, Abby and the other a petite dirty blonde named Lynn. They were unsure if “their” tour star had noticed them. There attire from day one was casual. Different story on day two.

As he made his way onto the leaderboard of his back nine on day two, Dale hit his drive well left and into the trees. His ball came to rest at the feet of our two ladies. They did not see Dale hit the ball but they hoped it was his. They set up camp hoping Dale was going to be up close. Sure enough, Dale arrived.

The ladies are dressed to nines today. Wearing skorts, halter tops and high heels. Tom casually comments that their attire today is a bit different than yesterday. They blush a bit but said that they wanted to be noticed. Tom said, “Congratulations, the other two in group and I could not help but notice your bodies in the clothes you have on today.” After Dale hit the shot, he reached into his golf bag and gave them each a golf ball. They thanked him he walked off. They giggled and thanked Dale. As he made his way back to the fairway, they looked at the ball and the balls had his name and a number. It turns out to be his cell phone number. Dale finishes his round, signs his scorecard and grabs his cell phone. Turns the phone on and no voice mails appeared.

On the way to the resort, his phone rings. It is Lynn. Dale asks the two to join him in the players lounge for lunch. In fact, he insists. They are way to nervous to eat but Dale has a good lunch and ask if they would like to join him poolside. They said that they have no clothes and with the clothes they have on today, they want to excuse themselves. Dale convinces Lynn to stay but Abby hits the road. With a little coaxing, Dale convinces Lynn to come to his suite where she can freshen up. He says, “Make yourself at home. I am going to run through the shower.”

She cannot stand it. He has been in the shower for just a couple of minutes and notices her shadow on the floor. A moment later, she opens the shower door and joins Dale. Better than he had hoped. Lynn is about 5’5″ with and athletic body and 34C’s to match the package. He greets her with a quick kiss and then they lock up. He quickly kisses her ears and neck working his way to kissing, licking and sucking her half dollar size nipples. Tan lines are driving him nuts.

Dale sits Lynn down on the tile bench in the corner of the shower and works his way down to her honey hole. There, Dale puts on a clinic of how to eat pussy. Licking, sucking and gently teething on Lynn’s pussy and clit. Suddenly, she tenses and shutters with the most intense orgasm that she has experienced in years.

Dale works his way back up into Lynn’s face and her eyes are squinted. Lynn see’s Dale in her face and begins to suck her juices off his lips. Loving the taste of her own cum, she kneels on the floor of the shower and has Dale standing in place in the shower. She takes his cock into her mouth and hands. Slowly at first, gently biting the head of his dick and then takes the entire 8 inches.

She begins going up and down on his putter and stroking his shaft with her right hand. She is rotating her clinched fist on his shaft and matching the in and out motion of her mouth and lips. Just about the time he is about to cum, she slows and teeths the head of his putter. She looks up with her green eyes and says that she wants his dick in her honey hole.

Lynn’s phone rings. On her hands and knees she turns opens the glass shower door to see who is calling her at this particular moment. She sees that it is Abby. When she opens the phone and begins to answer, Dale slids his putter into his new “putter cover”. Lynn lets a gutteral “HELLO!” Quickly Lynn says, “I’ll have to call you back!” and drops the phone on the floor.

Lynn cries for Dale to “give it to me.” On her hands and knees he is slowly giving her a full stroke. Then faster and then a little bit faster and harder. Two wet bodies, the steam from the hot shower, you can feel the heat and hear their bodies slamming together.

Dale slows his pace. When he is deep within Lynn’s honey hole, he leans in gently bites her on the ear lobe. She shutters and says that she has never had it in the ass before but if Dale were patient and gentle, she would like to give it a try.

With that said, Dale takes some body gel and rubs Lynn’s ass and his shaft. Dale said that she would be totally in control. Dale sat back on the tile bench and let Lynn back up and sit on Dale’s member.

Lynn eases back against Dales lap. His legs are inside of hers as she lowers her ass on to his cock. Slowly, she moves her firm tight butt in small circles, all the while she is pushing gently down on his cock. The head of his cock penetrates her ass and she winces from the pain. Dale whispers … “relax” and strokes her wet and soapy back. She does relax. Soon, she is completely seated in Dales lap and his cock has been fully enveloped in Lynn’s ass. As she aclimates herself, Dale slowly moves his hips from side to side. Lynn is more comfortable with the position and she begins to move up and down. Slowly, slowly and now a little faster. Suddenly, she is bouncing up and down wondering why she has never had this experience before. Her 3rd orgasm has her stand up rinse the putter shaft and finish him off with the best blow job our pro has ever been associated with … She rubs his putter head on her lips, chin and breasts.

They shower one another dry off and picks her phone up and calls Abby to come pick her up at the resort.

Dale has one of the last tee times on Saturday and is in the last grouping on Sunday. Dale does not win the tournament but with Friday’s “afternoon” round and Saturday “evenings” round. It is amazing he even made his tee time on Sunday.

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