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.
