*** Hi all - as a gentle reminder... As with all my works, this is a work of fiction: any semblance of my characters, persons, places, and events to any, uh, actual real characters, persons, places, and/or events is purely coincidental. It's all made up, though at times loosely based on personal experiences. Some characters that I've used in the past may pop up from time to time in this or future works; the reader might enjoy getting to know these characters of earlier writings. The stories are related inasmuch as they tell the story of our protagonist and his adventures as he establishes himself in a new community, and they tend to share overlapping timelines. As always, all comments are welcome.****
*****
There's temptation, and then there's temptation. This is a story of the latter.
"SURPRISE!!" Joanie raced across the practice green and gave me a huge hug, pretty much jumping into my arms. She looked every bit as stunning as I remembered... but more so. She was wearing a modest white golf skirt, and loose-fitting top, one button undone, that attempted to conceal her breasts. Typical cute golf-chick hair in a ponytail sticking out of the back of her hat. Bright white teeth filling out a pretty smile, if not a somewhat smallish mouth; carefully applied lipstick, and, to my surprise, fake eyelashes that, if possible, made her brown eyes seem even larger. Flawless olive-colored skin. Athletic body, flat belly; strong legs, the muscle definition formed through years of high school competition dancing. And that ass...
And, I was totally surprised. And, I felt like a total ass. She kissed me on my cheek, looked me in the eyes, then dared to kiss me - quickly - as if not to get caught - full on the lips. And reasonably so... her dad - my nascent golf buddy - had just turned the corner.
Maybe I should explain:
A year ago, Fourth of July weekend, and I had zero plans. For so many years, the holiday was a family event... parades, brats, arguments over politics, smuggled-in fireworks... all the good stuff. Now, with the kids grown and my wife estranged, going back to the traditional vacation site had lost its appeal. So, on a whim, I picked a spot I'd never been... in fact, a State I'd never been before, just to be alone and collect my thoughts. Found a nice Indian resort in the upper mid-west... casino, highly rated golf course, decent food. Looked perfect.
The first morning, as I headed from the hotel to the pro shop, I noticed a guy and a stunning woman get out of their car and head to the pro shop; I didn't get a good look at them, but she appeared to be considerably younger than he; no way of discerning the relationship on such a brief look, but there was no mistaking her athletic build, the soft features of her face, and her long, silky hair...
I checked in then, as I headed the practice tee, saw the couple once again. She eschewed the warmup... so, I guessed, she was a beginner...and from the look of it, her companion wasn't much better. Now, as a single golfer, one usually tosses the dice with regard to whom the starter pairs you. With luck, pleasant company; with better luck, someone of equal or better ability; on very rare occasion, a gorgeous woman. Hey - I don't play for the eye candy, but if its there, you know?... kinda like the feeling when one gets when the rare beauty gets the seat next to you on a plane... not the reason you fly, but it makes the experience all the more pleasant.
So anyway, not my luck. They teed off 30 minutes prior to me. I was paired with a pleasant, older couple who didn't seem all that interested in playing with a stranger. The starter was telling us about the couple in front... "beginners really, and probably shouldn't be on this course... its a bit challenging... you may want to play through them at some point..." I smirked at the older couple; they suggested to the starter that perhaps I should play ahead as a single.
The ensuing manipulation on my part was self-serving and shameless but, I accepted and off I went. Sure enough, a couple holes later I caught the 'beginners,' and they eagerly offered to let me play through. The girl was quite shy... turns out she was Keith's daughter. I took a moment to introduce myself and we had a nice little chat - they really were very pleasant; he recently divorced, she, high school junior, electing to stay with him for the summer instead of returning to her mothers house with the other siblings. I first noticed her eyes as we spoke - big, round, brown, framed by long lashes, high cheek bones, and flawless skin.
As we chatted, I took her in while hoping to maintain some sense of discretion: firm, muscular legs, and a really glorious set of tits, or at least, I presumed so: she was wearing a sports bra that flattened them against her chest. But, the golf shirt was form-fitting, and could not completely hide her abundant assets. I cannot lie, I did my absolute best to ignore her charms, and chatted with her dad for a few minutes before playing on. Nice guy, and, as one might expect, was somewhat oblivious to the budding beauty his daughter had become. Maybe lots of dads are like this... they see their daughters as their 'little girls,' not as the objects of beauty and, perhaps, desire, perceived by the sometime licentious world around them.
Dads, of course, instinctively hope that, if they've done their jobs well, their daughters will grow up, find their own identities, stand their own trials of fire, and if they are blessed, find husbands and lovers and create families of their own. But, I suspect most Dads do not imagine their daughters as objects of lust; or that they might be lustful... even slutty.
As a Dad myself, I measured my conscience against my lustful thoughts as I considered my choices.
I offered my thanks and played on. Two holes later, and I was stuck behind some weekend duffers, and a couple of other foursomes in front of them. I was going nowhere, but this was really to be expected, being a holiday weekend. So, I was content to bide my time and enjoy the scenery, lost in my thoughts when Keith and his daughter turned the corner in their golf cart.
"Well, hi again Keith! Remind me of your daughter's name?"
"Hey Steve - this is Joanie."
After re-acquainting ourselves, I invited them to join me to finish out the round. Without waiting for her dad to comment, Joanie's face lit up and answered for them both: "Oh yes! That'd be wonderful, and make it sooo much more fun!!" The look she gave me made me feel a little sorry for her dad, but he was happy to see her happy. Turns out, we were both Navy vets, and formed an immediate bond. He enlisted, me - an officer... but both wise enough to admire and respect the nature of each other's service. As we went along, I gave them some pointers... Joanie actually improved a bit toward the end of the round.
Out of respect for her dad, I tried to keep my eyes off her. She was a beginner, and dad had bought the outfit for her, I surmised. It was cute, feminine, but not overtly so; even still, it delightfully accentuated her athletic form and perfect skin. Every so often, she'd catch me looking at her; rather than being offended, she'd flash that gorgeous smile, and seemingly hold the pose. She was wearing a sports bra that did nothing to show off what I'd supposed was a more than ample bosom, and her shirt, though tight-fitting, was buttoned all the way to her neck.
After the round, Keith invited me to join them for lunch. They were both super-nice, polite, salt-of-the-earth mid-westerners, just enjoying some dad/daughter time before she headed off to college. Over lunch, we discussed families and kids. For him, the divorce was tough: Joanie was the oldest, and most empathetic to his point of view. HIs wife was the church secretary, and was caught banging the pastor. Unfortunately, the local press caught wind, and the ensuing spectacle was devastating.
Joanie was five years older than her siblings, and was able to make the discernment between her love for her mom and the abhorrence of the behavior. The little ones, not so much; so, they went with mom, she with her dad. The two of them had taken up golf very recently as something to do together. One couldn't help but be drawn to their soft-spoken charm and mutual regard.
So, I felt like an ass. For the oogling, I mean. Seriously, what kind of guy leers... even lusts, after another guy's high-school age daughter, particularly when said guy is in the presence of the daughter. Yet here we were... Keith excused himself for a moment, and Joanie turned to me, smiling coyly: "Why do you look at me like that?"
Busted. By a high schooler. Normally, my response is quite direct, challenging the challenge. But, under these circumstances? Very likely Keith, and maybe Joanie as well, had handguns in their golf bags.
Me: "How do you think I look at you?"
Joanie, blushing a bit: "You know... like that. Like, um... some of the boys at school. They stare at me like I'm a freak. It makes me feel... awkward. Ugly - like I'm deformed... I hate it. But I really like you. I'm... confused." She looked down.
Me: "Joanie?" I waited for her to make eye contact.
Joanie, big eyes, a little sad, turning to me: "Yeah?"
"What do you do when they look at you like that?"
"I usually say something... something mean."
"And what do they do then?" She thinks for a minute.
"Usually, nothing. Actually, always. Always nothing."
"Nothing at all? Do they keep staring?" She thinks about this.
"No... they... they break eye contact. They look away."
"Away. Away how? Do they look up". She thinks for a moment.
"No. No, they always look down."
"Straight down, or off to the side? The left side maybe?" She considers this, then brightens considerably.
"How did you know??" I smiled.
"Body language. They, like you, and do not hide their feelings very well. Down and to the left. They, like you, are insecure. They don't think you're a freak. They, like most every guy, regardless of age, are really attracted to beautiful women, and like to dwell on beauty when they see it. Men typically are easily stimulated by the physical beauty of women. They are also usually intimidated by them, and betray their insecurity when caught admiring a woman such as you."
Joanie: "But that would mean... you think I'm beautiful too."
"I think you're gorgeous. I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable." Joanie blushes.
