Although I am only nineteen, I know what I want out of life:a good man and a lot of good sex. I am in college and the immature hormonal prudes in my college just drive me crazy. As spring turned into summer, I decided to look for a job. I browsed the local classified on line, but didn’t see anything that really caught my eye. I wanted a fun job, one where I could just be myself and not have to dress up or impress anyone.

BEER CART GIRL. The ad just called out to me.

I drove over to the Oak Hollow Golf Club on the outskirts of town and wondered into the plush club house. I had never been on a golf course in my life, much less a fancy place like Oak Hollow. An older gentleman saw me looking around and asked if he could help me find something.

“Yes,” I cheerfully replied, “I’d like to apply for the beer cart girl position.”

The fellow took a step back and smiled.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Nineteen,” I replied.

“Well,” he said, “You have to be twenty-one in this state to serve an alcohol containing beverage.”

“But I am twenty-one,” I responded back. “I promise.”

The guy looked at me and smiled.

“OK,” he said, “You bring me an ID that says twenty- one and you’re hired.”

I hurried back to the house and found my older sister laying out by the pool.

“I need to borrow your ID,” I declared.

“For what?”” Lynne asked. Lynne and I were tight. She had pulled me out of more than one predicament.

“I got a job as a beer cart girl at Oak Hallow, but I need your ID to prove I am twenty-one,” I replied.

“Promise me you’re not trying to buy some liquor,” Lynne responded.

“I promise,” I replied, trying to sound desperate, “I need this job!”

“OK,” Lynne replied, “Just this once.”

I hurried back over to the golf club with Lynn’s ID in hand. The same older gentleman was signing in two golfers, so I waited patiently in the plush lobby for him to finish up.

I handed the club manager my ID. He studied it for a second and then looked at me.

“My hair is longer,” I said, anticipating his question. He turned the ID card over and then looked at me.

“Fine,” he declared, “Be here at 8am and wear some sexy shorts.”

Sexy shorts. I had his sexy shorts.

I was excited about the job, but that excitement quickly wore off about the fifth trip through the golf course, driving the beer cart. Every time I’d see a group of players, I’d drive up and wait for them to come over to my cart. Several times I found myself just sitting and waiting for a customer only to watch them drive off. The job I thought to be exciting, became very boring, very fast.

Then, one day, as I was sitting under a shade tree on the back nine, a middle-aged guy rolled up next to me and asked for two beers. I retrieved the beers from my cart cooler and handed them to him.

“Ten dollars,” I said.

“Ten dollars?” he repeated, as if he didn’t believe me.

“Sorry, but I don’t set the prices,” I replied. He handed me a twenty and as I fished for change, he said to “keep the change.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. I was ecstatic- I had earned a ten-dollar tip on two beers.

He asked my name. I looked down at the name tag pinned to my gold club polo shirt.

“I think it says I am Ally,” I replied.

He smiled and replied, “Sorry, I was distracted by your beautiful blue eyes.”

Yeah right. I was nineteen, not fourteen. But his charming comment made me take a second look at him. He smiled as he got back into his cart and drove off. My palms were sweating. I didn’t know why, but they were.

I didn’t think much more about the guy, even though I made a mental note to look for him again. Several days later, I found myself on the back nine, once again and this same guy drove up next to my beer cart.

“Hi Ally,” he announced as he parked beside my cart.

“Hey Mister Budweiser,” I replied.

He laughed.

“Glad you remembered,” he replied. His real name was “Tom.”

I handed him two beers from the cart cooler.

“Are you out here every day?” he asked.

“Every day except Wednesdays,” I replied. “I have to have one day to recuperate.”

Tom handed me another twenty-dollar bill.

“Keep the change,” he remarked, proffering a wink. He slipped his cart into gear and drove off as fast as he had arrived. My palms were once again, very sweaty. I could feel myself kind of upbeat and feeling pumped up after our brief encounter.

The very next day, at about the very same location, he drove up again, only this time he had a playing partner with him.

”Ally,” he said, “This is Bill. Bill, this is Ally.”

Bill was probably about the same age as Tom.

As I fished for a beer from the cart cooler, I felt a hand brush past my butt. I turned and saw that it was Bill. Almost immediately, he apologized.

“Sorry,” he said as he stepped past me and around to the far side of the beer cart.

Bill stepped back around from behind my cart, with several candy bars in hand.

“Do you have any cigars” he asked.

“No,” I replied, “But I’ll make sure to have some next time we meet up.”

I counted the candy bars.

“That’ll eight dollars,” I remarked. Bill handed me a ten-dollar bill. I handed him back two dollars. Tom stepped out of the cat and handed me a twenty-dollar bill.

“So what do you want?” I innocently asked.

“Nothing right now,” Tom replied. “That’s your tip.”

I looked at the twenty-dollar bill.

“You don’t have to,” I said.

“Just take it.” he remarked. I felt honored to be treated so well, despite his playing partner’s prudish behavior. As they drove off, I realized my panties were soaked. I couldn’t believe I had gotten so turned on. I made my way back to the club house and changed into my gym shorts from school. As I came out the club house, Tom and Bill were walking in. I smiled as we passed each other, but didn’t say a word.

I heard bill whisper to Tom,

“That’s her!”

I hopped in my cart and put it in gear. As I hummed along the concrete cart path, I couldn’t help but think about Tom and Bill. I pulled up under a shade tree. Tom was cute and Bill was the flirt.

A group of four guys approached. They parked their carts and unloaded, each grabbing a driver from their golf bags, to tee off. I sat in silence, hoping they wouldn’t approach me. I watched as each of them tee’d off. They piled back into their carts, slowing as they approached where I sat.

“Sorry guys,” I said, “I am all out of beer. I am fixing to head back in and get some more.”

My little white lie worked.

In the distance, I saw a lone cart making its way down the cart path. It was Tom and Bill. Tom was driving. He pulled right up next to where I was stationed under a large shade tree.

“Hey,” Tom called out, Fancy seeing you again!” Bill was smoking on a cigar. He stepped out of the cart, grabbed his driver and two balls from the ball holder in the cart. As he walked up the slight slope to the tee box, Tom stayed behind in the cart. We both watched as Bill took a few practice swings.

“I have wait for the assholes in front of us to clear the fairway,” Bill announced.

Tom nodded his head and looked over at me. I had my legs propped up in the front slope of my cart.

“Can I ask you a question?” Tom inquired.

“Shoot,” I replied.

“Do you always go pantiless?” he asked.

I immediately dropped my legs.

“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I had an accident and had to change.”

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Tom responded. “In fact, I think it’s kind of sexy when a girl goes commando.”

I glanced at Tom’s crotch and could tell my accidental flash had caused a small “issue”. I don’t know why, but I was feeling rather moved by the thought that I could so easily turn a guy on. I slipped my feet back on to the dash of my cart. I bit down on my lower lip, and tossed my hair back over my shoulder. Tom was not a bad looking guy.

“You know,” I remarked, “I’ve never hit a golf ball”

“I could teach you,” Tom replied.

“For how much?” I asked. “The golf pro wants a hundred to teach me.”

Tom smiled, glanced at my pussy flash and said, “Well, maybe we could work something out on the side.”

Whoosh. Whack. Bill cupped his hand over his eyes, looking for his ball.

“Did you see where it went?” he asked.

“In the woods,” Tom replied. He was of course, lying, because there was no way he could have seen where the ball went. Bill made his way back down the slope and settled into the cart beside Tom. I lowered my feet and smiled.

“Ally is going to hit my tee shot,” Tom announced.

“But, I don’t-“ I started to respond before Tom cut me off.

“I’ll show you,” Tom remarked.

He took out a club with a huge wooden end on it.

“Come on,” he beckoned as he walked up the slope to the tee box.

I followed him up to the tee box. As he bent over to place the ball on a wooden tee I couldn’t help but admire his long and well-tanned legs and very cute butt. He handed me a white glove and told me to put it on. The glove was a little loose, because it was a man’s glove. I snapped the wrist snap.

Tom showed me how to stand, with my feet spread shoulder width apart. He stepped back and told me to stand exactly where he had been standing. As I lined up, Tom stepped in behind me and pressed his body up against mine. I could smell the sweet aroma of his perspiration and aftershave, as he wrapped his arms around me arms and placed his hands over mine on the golf club.

He repositioned my hands, leaning over my shoulders.

“Lean forward a little,” Tom instructed. I could feel his manhood pressing against my buttocks.

I took in a deep breath and forcibly exhaled. I slipped my hand behind myself and on to his manhood.

“Behave,” he remarked. “This is golf.”

He slowly pulled my hands and the club back until the club was past my shoulders and my head.

“Now you’re going to make a smooth arch downward and follow through like this,” Tom instructed. He moved my hands and the club in slow motion, until the club had passed the ball on the tee and had arched in a complete 180-degree different position.

“I think I got it,” I replied.

Tom stepped back and I took a swing at the ball.

Swoosh!

I don’t know why, but when I looked down, the ball was still sitting on the tee in front of me.

“Strike one,” I declared. This was not easy.

I took another swing and missed.

On the third swing, I hit the ground and dirt and grass went flying.

“Focus on the ball!” Tom instructed.

I looked at the ball.

“Mother-fucker!” I yelled. WHACK! The ball flew off the tee and rolled through the grass in front of me. I was not very impressed with my first attempt to join the Championship Club.

“It’s a start,” Tom declared. “Do you want to try again?”

“No,” I replied. “I better stick with selling beer.”

Tom laughed.

“Come on,” Tom responded, putting his arm around my waist.

“We can share a beer and discuss things,” he said.

“But I can’t drink while I am at work,” I replied.

“We won’t tell anyone,” Tom shot back as he put his driver into his golf bag mounted on the back of the cart. Bill didn’t say a word. He was busy looking at his cell phone.

I grabbed two beers and handed one to Tom and one to Bill. Tom looked at Bill and said,

“Go find your ball, we’ll catch up.”

Bill didn’t even think twice. He put the cart in gear and zipped off down the cart path, leaving his golfing partner standing alone beside my beer cart.

“I really can’t drink while I am at work,” I repeated.

Tom leaned against my cart.

“That’s fine,” Tom remarked. “Is there anything else you can’t do at work?”

I thought for a second, not realizing the full depth of his probative question.

“No,” I replied. “I just can’t drink.”

“Can you give a blow job at work?” he asked.

His question caught me off guard.

Before I could answer, he quickly apologized.

“I can do whatever you want,” I replied.

“Really?” Tom responded.

I swung my legs off the bench seat and toward where Tom stood beside me. My heart was beating so fast, that I thought for sure it would pop right out of me. The blood flow to my nether region was uncontrollable. I looked down at the bulge that had formed in his Bermuda shorts.

I fumbled with his belt, as he placed his strong hands on my shoulders.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” he remarked. I unzipped his shorts and pushed them down his long hairy legs. I dug my hand into his underwear, feeling for his manhood. I squatted down in front of him and pulled his underwear down to his knees. His huge uncut cock was already primed and ready, arching upwards. I slipped my hand around the shaft of his steel rod and placed it up against my check. I could see his blood vessels pulsating. I had given blow jobs before, in the back seat of a car, in high school. but I had never taken the time to study a penis up close. Tom’s cock was a massive tool and bigger, longer and thicker than any of the jocks I had blown in high school.

I kissed the end of his massive cock and slipped it into my mouth. He was so huge. I knew there would be no way I could get all of him into my mouth. I was determined to try. Breathing through my nose, I tilted my head back and slid his manhood all the way into my oral cavity. He grabbed my hair with his hands as I worked my head back and forth.

My pussy ached as did my boobs. I stood up and slipped my shorts off. Tom didn’t waste any time. I turned and gave him my back.

“Put it in the right hole,” I instructed as I arched my back and bent forward, my hands on the front slop of the beer cart.

“I’ll do my best,” Tom replied as he slipped his massive cock between my spread legs.

I took in a deep breath and forcibly exhaled as Tom slid his massive tool into my pussy. His hands were on top of mine, and I could feel his hot breath on my neck. I was losing control. Actually, I had no control. As he pushed his cock into my tight ass pussy, a shiver shot through my body. He pushed his pelvis against my butt, working his tool in and out of my pussy.

“I’m going to cum,” Tom announced. I was happy that I was on the pill. He unloaded inside of me, still holding on to my hands. As he did, he let out a manly grunt with each spurt. Cum dripped out of my pussy and down the inside of my legs. Even after he pulled out of me, it still felt as though he was in me, filling me up. My entire body convulsed and shook.

I turned and pressed my body up against him as he stood leaning against the beer cart. His massive cock quickly went limp. I grabbed some napkins from the napkin bin and used them to wipe his cock clean. I squatted down and placed a gentle kiss on his flaccid cock.

I looked up at him, cupping his balls in my hand.

“Now these,” I said, “I can handle these.”

I reached in the beer cooler and popped open a Budweiser. I took a sip and handed the cold can to him. Tom didn’t say a word. We both got dressed, as quickly as we had undressed. Tom sat down on the bench seat of my beer cart. I slipped in beside him and put the cart in gear. About a hundred yards down the cart path, we spotted Tom’s golfing partner, Bill, walking out of a wooded area.

“Where have you been?” Bill asked as Tom as I rolled up next to the golf cart.

“I was helping show Ally how to hit a golf ball,” Tom replied.

Bill looked at me and then back at Tom. I am pretty sure Bill wasn’t believing either of us.

“Honestly dude,” said Bill as he looked at his golfing buddy. Tom smiled.

“She is quick leaner,” Tom responded, stepping out of my cart and over to his own.

“Maybe I should give her lessons,” Bill shot back.

“Maybe,” I responded, “You should learn to tip a little better,”

Tom laughed.

“See dude,” Tom responded, “Good tippers are well appreciated.”

“Yes they are,” I replied.

I looked over at Tom. “See you on Friday?”

Tom smiled.

“You mean you want more lessons?” he asked.

“Same hole, same place,” I replied, proffering a wink.

“Same hole, same place,” Tom repeated. He looked at Bill and then back at me.

“Should I bring him along?” Tom asked.

“Only if he can behave and tip a little better,” I replied.

Bill didn’t say a word. Tom smiled and replied.

“I’ll work on him.”