Bac Nine Rained Out

I'm Trevor Knudsen, the golf pro at Willow Creek, a nice little 18 hole golf course out in the countryside with a few hills, mature trees, and a meandering creek running through it. Very bucolic. The course attracts a lot of people who are just taking up the game, especially a lot of women who like the casual attitude of those who play here. In fact, several women have decided it would help to learn the game by taking private lessons from a young pro, someone they can talk with and who pays attention to them, not only to helping them with their golf swing but in other more personal areas. And that would be me.

Bud Adams, a real estate developer, bought the course a year ago because he planned to eventually build houses on the property when the market was right. In the mean time he was content to run a pretty low key golf operation so long as he at least broke even. He hired me to oversee the operation because I was not looking for a long term position. I was approaching 30 and I planned to try to qualify for the Nationwide professional golf tour. I figured I would have time to work on my game at Willow Creek when I could get some practice in between running the golf shop and giving lessons. Bud knew I wanted to play on the tour and said he would sponsor me if I qualified.

I got serious about golf when I blew my knee out playing Division 1 hockey. That ended my hopes of playing professionally. Hockey and golf were my second and third loves...right after pussy. They used to be one and two, but that was before I got my first piece of ass. I started playing golf when I was ten. I took lessons Eden Rock Country Club where my parents were members. I became good fast and played in amateur tournaments before I decided to concentrate on hockey. I didn't get real serious about golf until after the knee injury. That was nearly 10 years ago.

Once I switched back to golf, it didn't take long to get my game in shape and my handicap down to scratch. I was in great shape from all the years playing hockey, which made a difference. I'm 6'1" and weigh about 190. In college they called me Norsk, because of my Scandinavian heritage which accounts for my blue eyes and blond hair.

I became a professional a year after I graduated from college. I tried to qualify for the tour back then, but didn't make it. I decided to take a position as a teaching pro at one of the private clubs in town and pretty quickly filled my schedule with lesson appointments, many of them with the wives and daughters of the men who were members. Many of my women students, especially the hot ones, followed me when I moved from Eden Rock to Willow Creek.

On one particular steamy hot July afternoon, I was standing on the porch of the clubhouse at Willow Creek watching the sky. Thunderstorms were in the forecast for late afternoon and early evening. It didn't look threatening, but July storms can move in quickly. I watched a car drive up and park in the first row by the clubhouse. There were two women in the car.

I knew the driver, a stone fox by the name of Ally Wilson. Ally was tall; around 5'10", with these fantastic long legs, a great ass and a pair of 36 C (as best as I could judge) knockers; all of which were topped off with a face that reminded me of Faith Hill, including the brown eyes, a head of sun streaked blond hair and a gorgeous lips. I guessed she was in her late 30's. Just the sight of her gave me a little wood, and when she stretched those long, tanned legs out of the driver's seat in her BMW 3 series convertible, I could see she was wearing a tight little yellow skirt that came down to about mid-thigh and a cornflower blue sleeveless V-neck knit number that plunged in front enough to show some beautifully tanned cleavage. Around her next she wore a small gold chain. All I could think of was how she would look if dressed only in the chain.

Ally was one of my golf students. She had taken several private lessons from me, and with each lesson we got to know one another a little better and each time the sexual tension became a little more intense. As a teaching pro it sometimes is necessary to touch a student to put their body in the correct swing position; words don't always work. Sometimes it helps to move them through the proper positions so they get the feel. I always ask permission the first time I want to touch one of my ladies so they don't think I'm being inappropriate. I'm always gentle so they get comfortable very quickly. It doesn't take long before I can feel them release any tension they were feeling and relax so I can manipulate their arms, or shoulders or hips. And some times it is very difficult to resist wrapping my arms around a female student and showing her some positions that have nothing to do with golf. I haven't gone that far...yet. However, more than one of my lady golfers has made it clear that they would like to take some very private lessons from me.

During one of my lessons with Ally, I learned that she was in the process of getting a divorce. Her soon to be ex was a big corporate muck who traveled a lot. One day she told me she had found out he was boinking babes when he was away on business. She confronted him. He promised to be good, but she hired an investigator to check on Mr. Billy Goat and, sure enough, the P.I. took pictures of Mr. Goat with his dick in some strange. So, she said she told him that enough is enough; she wanted out and if she didn't get a fair settlement, she'd tee up his nuts and drive them into the next county.

During another lesson she asked me if I was seeing anyone, and I told her that I was enjoying being unattached; there was no need to make any commitments at this time. I said, "Frankly, Ally, there are too many gorgeous babes out there and I'm still trying to learn what makes them happy."

"Trev," she said, "when my divorce is final, it will be time for me to give you some lessons in making a woman happy." And with that my dick became like steel and my jaw dropped. "Don't look so surprised," she said, "We both know we've been like two cats waiting for the opportunity to get it on so when I'm free of the prick I'm married to I want to free the prick I can see twitching in those pants of yours."

Well, that time I almost shot my wad right then and there. That's a little history with Ally. It's been a few weeks since I last saw her, and now here she was looking better than ever and, as I would learn later, ready to give lessons.

I hadn't seen Ally's friend before, but when she got out of Ally's car, my johnson twitched a bit more. She wasn't as tall as Ally, maybe 5'7". She had a more athletic build; a nice ass, a magnificent pair of hogans (and I don't mean Ben), blue eyes and blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail that hung down to her shoulders.

Ally was wearing a pair of lime green shorts that just barely covered her ass and hugged her so tight there wasn't even room for a dime in her back pocket. The shorts also showed off her tanned legs, and I noticed that she had a gold ankle bracelet. I don't know why, but I find those ankle numbers a great turn-on. Her top was like a tee shirt with a scoop neck. The shirt was orange and came down to her waist, but did not tuck in so that when she moved, you could get a glimpse of skin. In fact, I thought I saw a little stud, or whatever you call it, in her navel. The whole outfit wouldn't have been acceptable at a private country club, but at Willow Creek we were a lot more liberal.

There was a certain confidence and earthiness and sexuality about her, like a Playboy centerfold who, if you could read her mind, was certainly thinking to herself, "Hey, you big hunk, do me with that great love hammer of yours." I was looking at these two babes and all I could think was – cheetahs on the prowl!

"Hi, Trevor," called Ally when she saw me, "meet my friend, Jill. Jill, this is the golf stud I was telling you about. Hey Trev, Jill and I want to play nine holes. Do you think you could take a little time off and play around with us?" And then she confirmed what I hoped was a double entendre by giving me this wink and a big smile followed by an announcement: "Oh by the way, Trev, guess what? She paused. "I am a single woman once again and I am ready to make up for lost time."

"Ally," I said, "That is an invitation I can't refuse. I can't think of a better way to spend some time than a threesome with the two of you." I wiggled my eyebrows a couple of times and then I looked from one beautiful face to the other. They were smiling at me. "In fact," I said, "let's make it a playing lesson...and I won't even charge you. I can check your grip; you know it should not be too firm or too loose. And we can work on developing the proper stroke; it should be smooth in both directions. There are also sorts or things we can do out there. "

Then Jill spoke up. "Ally's told me a lot about you, Trevor. I'm looking forward to seeing your teaching technique, and maybe we can give you a lesson."

The summer heat was hot enough, and now my body heat was going up, too. There was no way I was not going to join these two foxes. I didn't know what to expect; I just knew that they were ready to have some fun, and if it wasn't on the course, it would be somewhere else. But I couldn't just close up shop. I was in charge of everything that day and had to assign responsibilities to others if I was going to take a break.

"Ally, Jill," I said, "Why don't you start on the back nine holes. It's been slow today because of the heat so you should have the place pretty much to yourselves. I'll come out and join you as soon as I take care of things in the clubhouse. If it starts to rain, head for the 14th green. There's a rain shelter there that has a restroom. Stay there; I don't want you out on the course in case there is lightning. I'll put a couple of six-packs and ice in a cooler on a golf cart and then you can take off. The two of you have fun. I'm looking forward to making it a threesome."

"So are we, big boy, so are we," replied Ally. I couldn't believe how things were playing out with these two women. Ever since we started with the racy innuendos, I was sporting a semi that must have been obvious to Ally and Jill because Ally then said, "I remember you told me, Trev, that you play with golf clubs that all have stiff shafts. I see you're now carrying what looks like a stiff shaft in your slacks. Are you going to show us how you play with that one, too?" She then gave me this knowing look that left no doubt in my mind where things were headed.

I took the girl's golf bags and put them on a cart and then went into the clubhouse to get ice and beer from the bar. I also took a bottle of tequila, a couple of limes and some plastic drink cups. I went back outside and put the booze, ice and limes in a cooler on the golf cart.

"OK ladies, you're all set. I'll join you as soon as I get things organized, and then we can begin our lesson."

The ladies smiled at one another, and then Jill turned to me and said, "Tevor, hustle your ass. Ally and I think a hands-on approach to learning this game is best and we want you to be the teacher." With that they got into the cart and headed for the 10th tee.

As I turned and headed for the clubhouse I looked across the open fields to the west and could see dark storm clouds moving our way. I guessed that they were at least an hour away. I wanted to run, but I didn't want my staff to wonder what was so urgent. I couldn't exactly tell them that I had a rendezvous with a couple of lusty, busty hotties who seemed ready to take advantage of me. I could only hope.

The Willow Creek clubhouse was the old farmhouse on the property when the course was built. It had been remodeled so that it now had a bar and grill area, a men's and a women's locker room. The upstairs was made into a small apartment. This is where I lived, and it was perfect. When the course was closed and all the golfers were gone, it was me and nature. The barn was converted to storage for the golf carts and the greens keeping equipment.

I went back to the grill to check with Doris who ran the bar and food service. She said things had been very slow. I told her that if it started to rain, she should just close up the clubhouse and go home. I then went to the golf shop and talked with Matt and Jerry, my assistants. They told me there were four groups on the front nine and two on the back nine. All of them should be finishing within the hour unless it started to rain, in which case they would likely come straight back.

I told Matt and Jerry that if it did start to rain, make sure everyone was off the front nine, and then put the golf carts away, close up the shop and go home until morning. I told them I was heading out on the back nine to give a playing lesson and that I would take care of everything in case of a downpour.

Before heading out to join Ally and Jill, I went up to my apartment and changed into a pair of loose shorts. My dick and balls were swinging freely. It was still close to 90 degrees outside even though it was almost 6 PM. I figured no one would see me except my two ladies so there was no need to maintain a professional appearance.

I then went to the men's locker room and took 3 big towels in case we needed to dry off. Then I went back to the golf shop to get my clubs before going out to the barn to get a cart. I put my bag on the cart and the towels on the seat. I was ready to take off when I saw a tarp folded up on a shelf with spare cart parts. I grabbed it and thinking it might be good to have if it really poured and threw it on top of the towels.

I headed out of the barn and took a dirt service road that the greens keeping crew used to get around the course. I started at the 18th green and went backwards. By now the dark clouds were almost overhead and I could see rain coming down. It wouldn't be long before it started to pour on Willow Brook. I hoped that Ally and Jill were already high and dry at the rain shelter (I would soon find out that they were both—dry and high).

It started to rain so I took some shortcuts across the course that took me to the 15th tee situated on a hill from which I could see the 14th green and the rain shelter. The 14th green was in the corner of the course with nothing but cornfields on both edges of the course. It was the farthest point from the clubhouse; and nobody else would be intruding on our little party.

Ally and Jill's cart was parked outside the shelter and I could see that the cooler was no longer on the back of the cart; a good sign. The shelter had screens on three sides and I could see the two of them sitting inside each with a beer in hand; an even better sign. It started to rain harder as I got closer to the shelter. I parked my cart next to theirs, grabbed the tarp, the towels, my golf bag and ran to the shelter door.

By this time Ally and Jill saw me coming and Jill held the door open for me. Just as I got into the shelter, the clouds really opened up, but even though it was raining buckets, the temperature was still hot. It was going to get hotter.

"Just in the nick of time, stud duck," said Ally. "We were wondering if you were going to make it. We quit playing after the 13th hole because, as you can see, we got caught in the rain."

Both of the ladies looked like they had been in a wet T- shirt competition except they were both wearing bras; low cut ones, and the wet fabric of their tops was virtually transparent so that I could see their delicious tits swelling over the tops of their bras.

Ally walked over and looked at me with those big brown eyes, took my right wrist and put a beer in my hand. She didn't let go of my wrist and the fingers on my other hand wrapped around hers that were holding the beer. She moved in close enough so those beautiful breasts were touching my chest and her hips were pressed against my groin. I was hard again in an instant.

She then said, "Looks like our playing lesson has moved indoors and, unless I miss my guess, you have brought that stiff shafted trouser mashie with you." Then she let go of my wrist, reached down and gently raked her fingers up the full 8" length of my throbbing cock. "Jill, I was right; Trevor has brought his special teaching tool with him."

My cock and balls were screaming for relief. This was getting too good, and I didn't want to dull the edge considering that it looked like I had two sexy, horny women who deserved complete and prolonged attention. Ally then sat down in a chair next to Jill and I sat down in a chair opposite them to drink my beer and wonder where this evening was going to go.

There wasn't much furniture in the shelter; two wooden benches with an all-weather cushions on them along one wall, four arm chairs with plastic webbing, a small sofa with deep cushions and a square table. The concrete slab floor was covered with that fake green grass material, and the ceiling was about 9 feet high so that air could circulate. The whole idea was to give golfers a place they could go to get out of the rain until it stopped. However, judging by the sky and the steady rain that was falling, we were going to be there for awhile.

"Trevor, I think it's time to switch to that tequila you put in the cooler. Jill and I have already had a couple of beers each and we don't want to get bloated. How 'bout it, big boy? And then I want you to take a look at Jill's set-up; I think she stands too far from the ball," said Ally.

"OK, ladies. Serving drinks to beautiful women is part of my private lesson package," I replied.

To which Jill then said, "Excellent, I think I'm going to like your package very much." The lines kept coming, and my joint was hard enough to scratch glass.

I took the bottle of tequila out of the cooler along with three cups. I put a couple of ice cubes and a good dose of tequila in each cup. I got my trusty Swiss Army knife out of my golf bag to cut the limes and squeezed a wedge into each cup. Nothing fancy, but a few jolts of tequila should put things in even higher gear.

We were well into the first round of tequila when Ally said, "OK pro, I want you to help Jill with her set-up." Ally then stood up and said, "Come on, girl friend. The pro here has a very effective teaching manner."

Jill didn't need any encouragement. She got up and said, "Show me what to do."

I went over to my golf bag and took out a golf ball and the 8 iron. I put the ball on the carpet by Jill and handed her the 8 iron. "Take your normal set-up at that ball," I said. Jill took the club, applied her grip, flexed her knees and bent from the waist. I was standing in front of her so when she tilted forward, I got a good look again at those bountiful brown globes almost spilling out of her top.

"Not bad," I commented, "your set-up, I mean; everything else is perfect." And then I thought about how I was going to get my hands on her jugs and massage her nipples before I ran my tongue over and around each of them "Here," I said, "let me make a couple of adjustments." I stepped forward so I could reach her. I took each of her arms and adjusted them slightly taking plenty of time to gently caress each arm from shoulder to wrist and back again as I changed their position I moved her hands so they were now slightly ahead of the ball. "There, how does that feel?" I asked Jill while I still held her arms in the new position.

"Not bad," she replied, "what else needs adjustment?"

I almost said, "My dick, because it's getting chafed in my shorts when it should be sliding between your magnificent tits." But I didn't; actions speak louder than words. Instead, I let go of her arms and started to walk around behind her.

Ally was watching all of this with growing interest. Her faced was flushed, probably by the tequila and, I hoped, growing arousal. She finished off her tequila and said, "Time for a re-load. I think I could use a little adjustment, too, Trev; and Jill, honey, you could use a little more of this muscle relaxant before our boy Trev continues to work his magic on you.