Strokes And Distance

This is a new story. For those unfamiliar with the female lead... Well, that's what Google is for.

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The shuttle turned right, and entered the long, palm-tree lined driveway that led to the resort. It was beautiful, and now that the arduous trip to get here was nearly over, I was able to relax. All I needed to do now was check in, and I could truly begin my vacation.

I looked to my left. There was no one there. There was supposed to be. When the planning for this trip had started, there had been a woman at my side, putting her two cents into the decisions. I had no problem with that, as we were a team.

Were. Past tense. No more.

I'm still not really sure what happened. It seemed like a simple misunderstanding, but I wouldn't let it go, and she wouldn't let it go, until things finally escalated into a screaming match that brought the relationship to a flaming, and catastrophic end. I probably could have salvaged things with a sincere apology, but I was still a little too angry to realize that.

So I went without her. Not smart, but that's what I did. I cancelled her ticket, and prepared to spend the week alone in the huge king-sized bed.

As the vehicle stopped under the awning, a baggage handler opened the back, and quickly put my luggage on the cart; one medium sized suitcase, and my golf bag. He immediately whisked me inside to check in.

The opulence of the lobby was one of the reasons Jenny wanted to come here. I was more interested in the golf course, but that didn't mean I was immune to the luxurious surroundings. An attractive brunette behind the counter smiled at me as I stopped in front of her. The name tag balanced on her quite substantial left breast read 'Manuela'.

"Checking in, sir?" she asked, a trace of Spanish in her accent.

"Yes Ma'am," I replied, handing her my reservation.

"I see you have a suite booked. Is there another traveller joining you?" she asked, typing quietly.

"Well, it's a long story, but no," I laughed. "It's just me. I'll have to rough it, all alone in that big bed."

Unless you want to join me, and let me have at that luscious body?

I thought, hoping she could read my mind.

She just laughed. Maybe she read my mind and found my thoughts funny. More likely she had been hit on by nearly every man she ever checked in, and found my flirting as clumsy as it appeared. She let it die, flopping like a fish on the floor.

"Here is your key, sir. Room 418. George will help you with your bags," she smiled. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" Her demeanour was well rehearsed, and pleasant.

I thought I made that clear. Tell George to get lost, come with me to the room, and get that pretty blouse off so I can see those tits. That's a good start. We'll go from there.

"No, thanks," I said, pushing the thoughts of her squirming naked on my bed aside. George led the way to the elevator, and moments later, we were in the suite. With tip in hand, he left me, and closed the door.

"Okay, this is one very nice room," I mumbled. Bigger than most, with a monstrous king-sized bed, a sitting area, and not one, but two doors that opened out onto the deck, it was a corner suite. One bank of windows faced out over the pool, beach, and ocean, while the other looked over the practice green of the attached golf course. "All I need is some company."

A pang of regret ran through me as I looked at the huge bed. Jenny would probably be laying on it by now, tempting me to join her and break it in. Or she would be, if she was here. If we hadn't fought. If.

I probably couldn't count on Manuela for companionship, so I resigned myself to a week of golf and my right hand.

Maybe they had an adult entertainment channel on the plasma TV? I hope so.

***

After a short nap, I pulled my putter out of the bag, along with a ball, and went to explore.

My first stop was the practice green. It was quite large, with a number of undulations, so I could easily kill a few hours here during the week. I wandered out to the first tee, which was deserted at this time of the afternoon. Finally, I went into the Pro Shop, and had a look at the times available for tomorrow. Since I was alone, I would just come out when I felt like it, and get to play with whomever was available.

I hit a few more putts on the practice green, then strolled out to the pool area, where there were only a few empty lounges. I went out the gate onto the beach, where there was only one person laying on a lounge, catching some sun.

What the beach lacked in quantity, it made up with quality. The one person was a very attractive brunette, in a revealing orange bikini, reading a magazine. She wore large, dark sunglasses, which hid her eyes completely.

The bikini hid nothing. Yikes! She was quite buxom, and I tried not to stare too much at the incredible cleavage on display. The ocean breezes had raised two distinct bumps in the orange triangles of the top. I stopped a few feet away from her, and looked out to sea.

"I can see two problems, right off," the woman smiled. "First, you're way out of bounds, and second, you've got the wrong club."

I giggled, and turned to face her, spinning the putter in my fingers.

"Thanks for the tip," I laughed. "I'll keep it in mind when I play tomorrow. You have a nice day."

It wasn't until I made it back to my room that I realized what an idiot I had been. She was alone. I should have asked her for dinner or drinks. I should have done something. I went out to my deck, looking for her, but the lounge was empty, and there were no orange bikinis in the pool.

"Shit."

***

Monday morning dawned in typically beautiful fashion. I took a look out my window and saw a few people putting, so I immediately headed into the shower. I was eager to play, so as soon as I was dressed, I went for breakfast, and fuelled up.

I was walking into the shop just after 10am, and the staff gave me a smile.

"Oh, your timing is perfect," the guy behind the counter said. "We've got another single waiting for someone to play with. You can go right after the foursome on the tee now."

"Great!" I smiled. "Who am I playing with?"

"Another hotel guest," he replied. "A woman... Sanders is the name, I think. She's just outside, on cart 42."

Now before you label me a male chauvinist, you should know I have no problem playing golf with women. I consider the course and myself to be my competition, so a pleasant playing companion is always welcome.

I wasn't, however, expecting... her!

"Hey!" she chirped, as I walked up to the cart. "Not just putting today?"

"Thought I'd try the whole course," I laughed, putting my bag on the cart. When I turned around, she was standing there.

Tall-ish for a woman, she was wearing a white skirt, and white visor. Her brown hair was pulled back into a long ponytail, and she was wearing aviator sunglasses. She must have had a thing for orange, as her top was similar in colour to the bikini I saw her wearing at the beach. It was snug across her impressive chest, and tucked into the narrow waist of her skirt.

"I'm Holly," she smiled, showing a perfect string of pearly whites.

"Shane," I replied, taking her offered hand. "Are we up?"

"I think so," she said, taking her seat behind the wheel. "Which tees?"

"Um... Let's ease into it. I've never played here before, so I think I'll play the Whites," I answered as I sat next to her.

"White tees it is," she nodded, and stabbed the gas pedal.

It was a short drive to the first tee, and she parked smoothly next to the elevated patch of neatly trimmed grass. I grabbed my driver, and walked up to the starting point for the first hole.

I looked up the fairway. It was a medium length par 4, slightly uphill, with a single bunker on the right. A gentle start to the day.

I was just standing up from having teed my ball, when I noticed her leaning on her driver, standing just to the side.

"Are you playing from back here?" I asked, surprised. I just assumed she would be playing the ladies tee.

"Yes," she smiled. "I play a lot, so I won't hold you back."

"Well then," I laughed, snatching my ball up. "Ladies first."

"Don't be an ass," she giggled. "You're ready to hit, so hit."

"Okay. Will do," I replied, replacing the ball. Seconds later, my ball was streaking down the fairway. It was a little scruffy, but would have to do.

Holly took her stance, and I knew right away she had played a lot of golf. I also knew it was going to be a long day. She wasn't just stacked, and beautiful; she was an athlete, and in her element.

I watched her body as she took the club back. With the flexibility that only a woman has, she kept both feet flat on the ground all the way to the top, turning behind the ball into the perfect position to hit her drive. With deceptive smoothness and power, she whipped the club-head through, sending the ball whistling into the distance with a yelp as titanium met polyurethane. She held her finish, perfect breasts pointed skyward, until the ball hit the ground, a few yards beyond mine.

My attention was understandably divided between the great shot, and her great rack. Like I said... a long day.

I saw a small smirk on her face as we went back to the cart. Whether it was because she out drove me, or because she knew I was watching her body with great interest, only time would tell.

We both made par, although mine was fortunate, and hers was routine. The same could be said of the second hole, another par 4. I was thrilled with two straight pars to start.

The third hole was a short par 3, and I clanked it into the bunker to the right. One mighty lash and three putts later, I had undone the good of the first two holes, and came crashing to earth.

Oh, and she had zipped a nice little iron in to fifteen feet, and made birdie. My masculinity was taking a beating.

The fourth hole, a long par 5, was where I finally woke up. Not my golf game. That would take a few more holes. No, what I mean is, I finally figured out who I was playing with.

"Oh my god!" I gasped, as the light bulb finally went on. "You're Holly Sonders!"

They had thrown me off in the Pro Shop, telling me her name was Sanders. That, and the fact that I wasn't expecting a celebrity to be waiting for someone to play with, had my brain in neutral, so I didn't recognize her.

I can't tell you how many times I watched this luscious creature on the Golf Channel. Gorgeous doesn't do her justice, with long, toned legs, a narrow waist and tits to die for. She tipped her sunglasses down, showing me her big brown eyes, and winked.

"You could have told me," I laughed. "I'm playing golf with Holly Sonders!"

"Yes, yes," she nodded. "Can I just be plain Holly, today? I'm on vacation. I was hoping to stay under the radar."

"Right," I smiled, shushing myself. "Sorry. I will keep my mouth shut. Sorry," I repeated.

Trying to keep that body, face and smile under the radar was like trying to disguise a Ferrari with a sticker that read 'My other car is a Ferrari'. Good luck.

Speaking of luck... Holy shit! I'm playing golf with Holly Sonders! As if I wasn't paying attention to her enough before, now I certainly was. Every time she bent over, that tight skirt made her ass look good enough to eat. Every swing reminded me how big her breasts were, and how much I had always wanted to get my hands on them.

As far as the rest of the round went, I stumbled along for a few more holes before finally stabilizing. I finished with two birdies, and a 79, pretty good for me. Holly kicked my ass, with a 73 that looked so easy she probably could have done it in her sleep.

Sitting on the cart afterwards, she had one more surprise for me.

"Do you have plans, tomorrow?" she asked. "Want to play together again?"

My ego said 'no', but was vetoed by the rest of me, which would take any chance to stay close to her. Even if it didn't amount to anything other than friendship and masturbation fodder, I didn't want her to say goodbye.

"Okay," I smiled, "under one condition. Dinner tonight?"

She eyed me cautiously, before extending her hand.

"Deal. I'll book our tee time. You make dinner reservations," she smiled, as I shook her hand. I noticed how soft it was.

"What's the rest of your day like?" I asked. It was only mid-afternoon.

"Pool time, I think," she grinned. She probably knew I'd be picturing her in that bikini. She was right. "You?"

"A nap," I laughed. "Then I think I'll work on fixing some of today's issues on the range before dinner. Should I call you with our time for dinner?"

"Sure. Room 318," she said softly.

"Hey! I'm right on top of you," I smiled, then heard it. "I mean, I'm above you. Um, my room is right over... Oh hell," I laughed, hiding my face. I guess my train of thought was pretty clear.

"I get your drift," she giggled, and walked away. I watched her ass as she did, until she whirled around and caught me. Another smile, and a flutter of fingertips, and she was gone.

A staff member put our clubs in storage, and I went up to my room. Dinner with Holly might be better than golf with her was.

***

I woke from my nap.

When I returned to my room, I had placed the call for dinner. Then I had called Holly's room, and left a message for her. Then I had gone into the bathroom, and jerked off like a horny teenager. The range could wait.

Images of that supple body filled my head, so masturbation was the only way to keep from going insane. It had taken next to no time at all before I splattered cum across the bathroom counter. I hoped I got it all when I cleaned up, or I'd get funny looks from the housekeeping staff. At least I slept well.

So, when I woke up, it was nearly time for dinner. I peeked out over the pool area, and didn't see Holly, so I assumed she was in her room, right below me. Maybe she was dressing, or maybe she was still in the shower. Maybe she was in the tub, with soapy water and bubbles clinging to the spectacular curves of her body. Or maybe she was as excited about this as I was, and was splayed wide on her bed, fingering her pussy wildly.

Maybe I should jerk off again. My dick was hard enough. My imagination was sure going down that road.

I decided to just get dressed, and go downstairs to wait for her, in an effort to keep from succumbing to frustration. I pushed the elevator button, and it arrived quickly. The doors closed, but the downward motion was short lived. The doors opened, and Holly stepped on.

"Hey, you," she smiled, giggling happily, "we simply must stop meeting like this! People will start to gossip!"

So let them,

I thought.

I'll take any reason to keep meeting you. Golf, dinner, groundhog day... Any reason at all. I can think of a few more fun reasons, like showering, or rolling over in bed. There goes my imagination again.

Holly in an elevator was no less mouthwatering than Holly on the golf course. Her hair was down, draped over her left shoulder in a luxuriant cascade of brown, with sun-streaked highlights. She was wearing a slightly longer skirt than earlier, but it was still quite short, and snug across her firm ass and tanned thighs. Up top, her cleavage had come out to play. It was a monochromatic display of navy blue, and looked wonderful on her.

Being trapped in a confined space with her had the added benefit of concentrating her scent. A mixture of the beach, perfume, and clean hair, it was very intoxicating. She caught me inhaling for reasons other than merely breathing, and smiled.

The door opened, and I gestured for her to go first. Chivalry? Not likely. I just wanted to watch her ass wiggle along ahead of me. She knew where she was going, and I just trailed her all the way, focused on the hypnotic motions of her firm rump. It was a minor disappointment when we arrived at the dining room entrance.

"Montpellier, for two," I smiled, raising two fingers redundantly.

The host nodded, checked us off his list, and grabbed two menus, directing us through the maze of tables. Ours was near the windows, overlooking the beach.

I did my best to impress, holding the chair for Holly, before taking my own. Now that I was seated across from her, I got the full effect of her attire.

Those are very nice breasts,

I thought,

and I'd love to just rub my face in that cleavage, right here, right now. Decorum be damned. I'm having dinner with Holly Sonders. Take that, Jenny.

It's funny, but despite spending over four hours together this afternoon, we hadn't really talked too much, at least not about each other. We talked plenty about my often somewhat erratic golf game, and her much more effective one, but not about Shane the person, or Holly the goddess.

Speaking of Holly, this was the full HD version. With her hair down, and aviator sunglasses absent, I was in the presence of the woman who regularly beamed at me from my big, flat-screen TV.

Of course, my TV wasn't 3D, and Holly most definitely was.

Dinner was lovely, but unmemorable, which is less than I can say about my dinner companion. If Holly was truly trying to stay unnoticed, she should probably have stopped smiling all the time. That display of perfect teeth was a dead giveaway, and she kept flashing them at me, which I found inspiring.

The display of cleavage in the slightly open neckline of her blouse was equally inspiring, although to a different part of my body. I certainly didn't want the show to end, and we kept talking and joking for hours. It was pure black outside by the time we finished.

"Shane, I can't tell you when I've had such fun at dinner," she smiled, "but it's getting late. We'd better get to bed."

A sudden silence enveloped us.

Bed?

"Uh, gee, let me rephrase that," she giggled, blushing red. "I was intending to say that we have a relatively early tee-time in the morning, and it's getting late. We should get some sleep, in our own, individual beds, in our own individual rooms. There. Fixed." She hid her eyes with her hands in embarrassment. "Oops."

I laughed, but my heart had done a jig for a moment, and was still pounding. Now, it slowed but held onto the hope that her words were a Freudian Slip. Perhaps she was having horizontal thoughts as well?

"Yes, sleep," I laughed, caressing her beautiful, round breasts with my eyes, until she pulled her hands away and made eye contact. "You're right. We should get some sleep. Well, I should anyway. I'd have a better chance of beating you if you stayed up all night."

"I have to admit," she smiled, leaning closer. Her breasts rested on the edge of the table, showing me more cleavage. "You took your defeat much better than most men would. The fact that you're here, and willing to play again tomorrow, shows me you're different." She reached across, and took my hand. My eyes dropped momentarily to the bulging display at the top of her blouse, then moved back up to her dark, sexy eyes. "Goodnight, Shane. See you in the morning."

I watched her leave. Just as well she made her exit before me, as I had to wait for my erection to soften. I'd get it nice and hard again once I got to my room, and get myself off before I went to sleep.

She would still be in my dreams all night.

***

I slept surprisingly well. Breakfast was good, and I was on the practice green already when she drove up.

"Getting an early start?" she asked, dropping a ball on the green.

"Don't like getting my ass kicked by someone in a skirt," I laughed, "even one as pretty as you." It just rolled out so smoothly, like my putts were, that before I knew it, I had called her 'pretty'.

Not that it wasn't true. She knew it, and I knew it, even if I hadn't said it... but in all my years playing golf, I'd never used the word 'pretty' to describe a playing partner to their face.