The Hole in One
Gerrard was lost in thought as he drove to the course. What had happened? Where had the years gone? What about all the promise he had shown? He knew damn fine what. He’d bottled it, that’s what. Whenever he got the chance he’d lost his nerve. So now he was an aging pro giving lessons to old duffers knowing full well he’d never realised his potential and was doomed to carry on as he had been for the last eighteen years. He couldn’t help but feel bitter.
Today he’d been booked to play nine holes with a Charlie Streatham. It didn’t happen often, requests like this. Usually they wanted to work on a particular aspect of the game on the driving range or the practice putting green or whatever. Today was actually playing and giving advice on the way round. The nine-hole course wasn’t played much and, chances were, it being a Wednesday, there’d be no-one else on the course. Good. That would mean he’d be able to relax.
“You seen Charlie Streatham?” he asked Harry in the shop.
“Driving range, guv,” came the reply.
“Tell him I’ll be waiting by the first tee, will you?”
“Yeah but guv ….”
“No buts, just tell him to meet me there.”
“Ok. If you say so …”
Gerrard made his way to the first tee pulling his clubs behind him. He was getting too old for this. Almost forty. Still, it wasn’t a bad life really. Out in the fresh air all day. He took an iron from the bag and began to warm up with a few practice swings. When he was younger he would have been at the course an hour or two earlier getting in some proper practice. Now he couldn’t be bothered. He wondered about this Charlie Streatham. Tried to imagine what he’d be like ….
“Are you Gerrard?” he heard a woman’s voice asking.
Turning, he was confronted by a girl in her mid-twenties. No older. Blonde hair and sunglasses. Lipstick. Pale blue blouse tied under breasts that stuck out like torpedoes. Exposed mid-riff. Firm, tanned stomach. Mini-kilt. Long, long legs. Gerrard was almost speechless.
“Who’s asking?” he smiled at her.
“Charlie. Charlie Streatham. I booked in to play nine holes.”
After getting his breath back Gerrard regained his composure. He looked at his watch.
“We’re a couple of minutes late. Best get started. We’ll play the first couple and I’ll see how you swing.”
He regretted saying that the second the words left his lips.
“Oh, I’m sure you will,” came the reply.
Gerrard watched as Charlie took a few looseners and then approached the tee. Bending from the waist she placed a tee in the ground and put her ball on it. Christ. Bending like that Gerrard got a full view. The mini-skirt rode up her bum to expose, well, he would have said knickers. Except they weren’t. A G-string. A thong. Whatever you call them. A piece of material so thin it barely covered her crack.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Gerrard said to himself. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. And there she was looking back at him from that
position and smiling at him.
“Like what you see?” Charlie asked him.
Gerrard tried to stay all professional.
“Might I suggest clothing a little more appropriate to the job in hand?”
He regretted saying that, too. Not surprising given the swelling in his crotch.
Charlie stood up and addressed the ball. She’d chosen a three wood to drive off with. Gerrard watched in anticipation. He fully expected her to miss the ball altogether so he was a bit surprised when the head of the club connected. Not only did it connect, it was a half-decent shot. A little bit of slice but the ball sailed away and landed in the semi-rough a good way down the fairway. Not only that, it left her with a good approach shot to the green. Charlie turned to face him with a look of expectation on her face. Gerrard realised he was supposed to say something.
“Not bad,” he said.
“You’re dropping your shoulder a little on the down swing,” he went on. He didn’t really have a clue. He hadn’t really watched her play the shot. He’d been too busy ogling the expanse of leg that was on show. That and wondering how he was going to hide the erection fast growing in his pants. Taking his turn he moved quickly to the tee. A three-iron for him. He could leave the ball on the fairway close to where Charlie’s ball had landed. That way he could watch her next shot.
“Focus, focus,” he kept telling himself as they walked down towards their balls.
He’d placed his ball a little ahead of Charlie’s and hung back as she went over to inspect the lie.
“What do you think?” she called back to him.
Gerrard crossed over and took a look. The ball was sitting up. Not a bad lie.
“Five-iron,” he said. “Watch you don’t snag the head in the longer stuff in front of the ball and play to the left of the hole to compensate for the lie.
He wondered if Charlie had understood a word he said. She might have done. After a couple of swings she approached the ball. The stance was good but there was something wrong with her grip.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said. “Move your right hand back round on the grip a bit more.”
“Show me,” Charlie ordered.
Crossing to her he tried to show her what he meant with his own hands. She tried to copy but she wasn’t getting it. Next he tried to adjust her hands on the grip but from the side he couldn’t get her hands to move where he wanted them to. Oh,well. Standing behind her he reached round to make the necessary adjustments. He could smell her perfume. Feeling his arms round her shoulders excited him. He leaned over further to move her hands and felt his groin pressing into her backside.
“Must be a hard job?” Charlie asked him turning her head slightly.
Gerrard could feel his stiffened cock pressing into her buttocks and stepped back in embarrassment but trying to maintain his cool.
“Well, that looks better,” he said. “Play the shot.”
Charlie swung at the ball which kept very low and ran off across the other side of the fairway and into the rough on the other side.
“You see,” he said. “You need to twist your right hand back round on the grip a little. It’s causing the head to open out as you strike the ball.”
“Ok, boss. I’ll try to do that.”
Gerrard played his own shot up to the green then they crossed over to Charlie’s ball. This time he left her to her own devices. She took note of what he said and played a seven iron out of the rough to maybe thirty feet from the green. Again he just watched as she played a wedge. This time she hit the top of the ball and it only ran on a few feet. He waited while she played the wedge again. This time it caught the ball a bit full and went past the hole by a several yards. Looking disappointed she took her putter from the bag and marched over the green glaring at the ball. Composing herself she struck a sweet shot to within a couple of feet. Now it was Gerrard’s turn. He begged for the ball to go in the hole as he struck it. He desperately wanted to make an impression. A birdie at the first might distract from his earlier embarrassment. The ball ran up to the hole and stopped just short. Bugger. Just a little more weight and it would have been down.
“Oh, nice shot,” Charlie congratulated him. “Wish I could put like that. I just don’t seem to have the feel for it.”
Well, from what I’ve seen so far,” Gerrard told Charlie after she had sunk her own ball, “your long game and putting are ok. It’s the approach game that needs some work.”
They played the second and third in a nicely relaxed manner. There was no-one else on the course although they could occasionally here sounds coming from its bigger neighbour. Gerrard offered advice where he felt it was needed. As he had said, her driving from the tee wasn’t bad at all and her putting was ok too. Maybe a little work on that later, but nothing too serious. It was in between where the trouble lay.
On the fourth Charlie played a dire tee shot, though and the ball swung off to the left and into the trees. Gerrard had watched her play the shot and was surprised given how well she had teed off at the earlier holes. It was almost as if she had meant to do it. Playing his own shot onto the middle of the fairway they marched off together to look for her ball. Gerrard had been in there a few times himself and knew it wasn’t a good place to be. It might take while.
They entered the wooded area and began searching. Gerrard tried to recall the flight of the ball to imagine where it might have ended up. After a couple of minutes Charlie moved further into the undergrowth and out of sight.
“Don’t think it went that far in,” Gerrard thought to himself. Then he heard her calling to him.
“Gerry, Gerry, come and look at this.”
“What is it?” he called in response as he hacked at some of the longer grass and thistles and made his way towards the sound. As he made his way closer to her he could see Charlie bent over a fallen tree trunk. Her knickers were on full display. As she heard him approach her legs parted and she put her hand on her G-string and pulled it to one side showing her pussy and ass-hole.
“Can you see that, Gerrard?” she asked.
Oh Gerrard could see alright. And he wasn’t going to need a second invitation. After looking round to check he moved up behind her and unzipped himself. Pulling his engorged cock from its confinement he guided it towards her pussy lips and stoked at them with the head. Just as he was about to plunge into her her hand suddenly took hold of him and steered his cock up to her ass.
“Fuck my ass,” Charlie commanded.
“What?” Gerrard asked, all confused.
“You heard me. Fuck my ass,” came the taut reply.
Gerrard had never performed anal sex before. He tried to steer his cock back towards Charlie’s pussy. He could smell it. He was desperate to sink his dick inside her. She was having none of it. She took his cock in her hand and steered it up to her ass-hole again. She pressed back against him and he could feel the head of his cock pushing at her. Suddenly he pulled away from her.
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” he blurted out.
Charlie stroked at her pussy and then slid a finger up and inside her ass.
“What, you don’t like chocolate delight?” she mocked him.
Gerrard watched in morbid fascination. That beautiful pussy with its beautiful wet glistening lips and she wanted a cock in her ass. He couldn’t understand it.
“I’ve never done it before,” he stammered.
“Well, here’s your chance,” Charlie goaded him. “Come on, it’s here for the taking.”
Gerrard couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He looked on for a few seconds longer then left Charlie there. He felt shocked as he made his way back to the fairway. What the fuck had just happened? A beautiful, no, stunning girl like that and she wants to be fucked in the butt? It was beyond his comprehension. He made his way over to his ball and stood their looking at it. He didn’t know what to do now. Was he supposed to carry on with the round? Should he go back to the club-house and leave her to it. The decision thankfully was taken out of his hands. Charlie re-appeared from the undergrowth, ball in hand and placed it in the light rough.
“Guess I get a penalty for that?” she asked him.
Gerrard didn’t give a fuck. He was passed caring about the niceties of golf. If that was what she was talking about.
“Let’s just play on, shall we?” he said. “ We’ll just forget you went into the rough.”
“Oh Gerrard. You sweetheart,” Charlie responded.
The rest of the round proceeded pretty much as normal, given the circumstances. Gerrard handed out advice where needed. Charlie took the advice and tried to act on it. Normal. At the last hole, a par three, Gerrard took the first shot. He’d never had a hole-in-one, never in all those years, but he’d come pretty close on this hole. His ball sailed up into the air off the tee and overshot by about ten feet. The ball span back a little but stopped well short.
“One day,” he thought himself.
He watched in solemn silence as Charlie placed her ball on the tee. She bent her knees this time so no sight of what might have been. She took a couple of practice swings and approached the ball. Composing herself she lifted the club into the backswing. A nice smooth action followed as she struck the ball and followed through. The ball took off on a trajectory that they both knew was right on line. The ball bounced once and dropped into the hole.
“Whooo. Whooo. Whooo,” Charlie was screaming. “Oh fuck. A hole-in-one.”
She began to dance around and screamed some more.
“Gerry. Gerry. Can you believe it? A fucking hole-in-one?”
Gerrard did his best to join in with her celebrations but all he could feel was rank disappointment and envy. All those years of playing. All those tournaments. All that practice. And not a single one. Not ever.
They made their way back to the clubhouse. Gerrard walked behind Charlie as she practically bounced along the path. He looked at her wonderfully shaped arse and could only think of what might have been.
Gerrard had never performed anal sex before. He tried to steer his cock back towards Charlie’s pussy. He could smell it. He was desperate to sink his dick inside her. She was having none of it. She took his cock in her hand and steered it up to her ass-hole again. She pressed back against him and he could feel the head of his cock pushing at her. He responded by pushing harder. His cock wouldn’t enter.
“Spit on it,” Charlie told him.
“What?” Charlie asked. He was feeling a bit out of his depth here. He knew men and women had anal sex. He just hadn’t ever considered it as something he would do.
“Spit on the end of your cock.”
Gerrard let a dribble of spit fall onto the end of his cock and stroked it round the head. Then he tried again. This time the sphincter muscles gave under the pressure and he felt the tightness of her ass clamp round him. He pushed a little harder against the resistance and was rewarded as his shaft sank deeper into her. It felt tighter than anything he’d ever felt round his cock before. He moved slowly backwards and then pushed forward again. He heard Charlie moan with pleasure and began to relax and enjoy it himself. His rhythm increased as his excitement grew and then he could feel her playing with her pussy and feeling his balls. He hung onto her hips and rocked her backwards and forwards and felt her fingers as they entered her pussy. He reached forward and cupped her breasts all the while increasing the tempo. A long, low moaning escaped her lips as Gerrard climaxed and shot his load into her. Quickly removing his cock he squeezed another load out onto her ass and pussy before the rest fell tired and listless to ground beneath them. That was the best come he’d ever had. That was the best sex he’d ever had, the best feeling
he’d ever had. They stood there for a few moments with trembling legs before they moved apart. Gerrard shoved his shrivelling cock back from whence it came and Charlie pulled her G-string back over her exposed pussy and ass. With legs still shaking they made their way back to the fairway.
“What about my missing ball?” Charlie asked him.
Gerrard dropped a ball onto the light rough.
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he said.
“Oh Gerrard. You sweetheart,” Charlie responded.
The rest of the round proceeded pretty much as normal, given the circumstances. Gerrard handed out advice where needed. Charlie took the advice and tried to act on it. Normal. At the last hole, a par three, Gerrard took the first shot. He’d never had a hole-in-one, never in all those years, but he’d come pretty close on this hole. His ball sailed up into the air off the tee and overshot by about ten feet. He’d put some back-spin on it so he wasn’t surprised to see the ball rolling back towards the hole. Except it didn’t stop. It kept on rolling. Closer and closer. Gerrard watched in disbelief as the ball disappeared. He stood in stunned silence for a second then turned to Charlie and whooped.
“Did you see that? Did you see that?” he screamed at her.
Charlie’s face broke into the biggest smile he’d ever seen as she rushed over and grabbed him.
“A hole-in-one, a hole-in-one,” they both screamed as they jumped up and down clinging on to each other. Gerrard could feel Charlie’s breasts as they pressed into his chest. He couldn’t give a fuck. A hole-in-one. Jesus, a hole-in-one. Better than any sex.
“What a day,” Gerrad thought as he made his triumphant way back to the clubhouse with a jubilant Charlie laughing beside him. “Two firsts in the space of an hour.”
He couldn’t believe his luck.
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