This is a series of stories that are a sort of sequel to two text-adventure games. Each installment is a complete story on its own, but for a full understanding, the reader may want to start with Chapter 1.
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I was delirious for nearly a week. I had gotten a handshake agreement to purchase a better located and sized parcel of land (a farm) than I had even dreamed of for the golf and country club I was now going to actually develop. I had experienced my first ever official Roll In The Hay with a farmer's niece. My buying the land had meant that she wouldn't feel obligated to farm the land herself in turn, which turned the roll in the hay into a mind-blowing thank you. Two days later, she had already secured a job in Minneapolis doing genetic engineering for a Fortune 500 agribusiness. When that happened, she showed up at my own house in the suburbs and thanked me again one last time, a marathon session that had let me chalk up another conquest on the specific patch of grass in my back yard where I had signed the offer papers for the house on the naked back of my real estate agent, what seemed so long ago.
Then reality set in. Farmer Steve knew damned well how to negotiate fiercely. Not only had he forced me to settle at the very top of the range I thought made sense, he also insisted that I had to buy the whole business, meaning I had to take the whole fleet of pretty state of the art mechanical equipment as well. I could sell the combine and tractors for good money fairly quickly after the close, but it pushed the price way beyond what I could manage in my wildest dreams.
I had expected to need a few limited partners at this stage, but now I needed way more cash than I could realistically schmooze out of middle-class buddies over cocktails. I needed Capital, with a capital C. It was a problem.
That Sunday, I was sitting in my back yard, looking through my college fraternity's website to see if maybe any of my frat brothers had gone and become a tech billionaire while I wasn't looking. No such luck. I was getting seriously frustrated. Several brisk gusts of wind came through, and I noticed they were from the east, which was unusual. Looking around, I realized that a veritable raft of leaves from my oak tree were blowing down into my neighbor Linda's pool.
Suddenly my financial frustration morphed into sexual frustration, or maybe anticipation. Linda was smoking hot, had a serious thing about keeping her pool clean from leaves and debris... and had a kink for pool boys. I had cleaned her pool for her a few times. After all, it was my tree that put most of the debris in her water....
I climbed the tree quickly, looking over the privacy fence between our back yards to see if she was home and already upset about the pool. But I did not see her in her backyard, although that was where she spent most of her time on nice days. Damn.
Just as I was climbing down, I heard her garage door opening! I dropped to the ground, rushed through my house to the front door at top speed, opened it, then ambled casually out to the driveway, waving at Linda as she pulled her sports car into her garage. I strode over.
Linda uncoiled herself from the car (the other garage bay was empty, as it usually was). Virtually every other time I had laid eyes on her, Linda had been wearing jogging clothes, swimsuits, or nothing at all. Damned if she wasn't just as much of a knockout in beige-colored, flowing trousers, a broad black fashionable belt, and a loose white blouse. She bent over to pull some grocery bags out from behind the seat. I recommend seeing Linda bend over in whatever circumstances you can manage.
"Mind grabbing those two?" Linda asked, looking back into the car. I swiftly reached in myself and grabbed the last two grocery bags. "Thanks for the help," she said as we walked into her kitchen and set down the groceries.
"You may not thank me for long," I replied apologetically. "We just had a little wind storm out of the east, and I saw my tree shedding leaves all over your yard. You pool is probably a mess."
Her first facial expression was massive irritation, but then she looked at me and smiled. "Would you like to help me out and clean it for me?"
I leaned against the kitchen counter and said softly, "I had thought I might volunteer."
"I'll bet you did," she replied with a leer. She swiftly put away the refrigerated groceries and left the rest on the counters. Leading me out of the kitchen, she said, "why don't you get started? I'll just change out of this and meet you outside."
I was already getting a budding hard-on as we passed through her living room when I stopped short. In the middle of the room was a single small suitcase, a travel documents wallet, and two large, expensive, obviously well-used and well-loved golf bags!
"I didn't know you played golf," I exclaimed. "Are you an avid golfer?" Linda was loaded. How loaded, I wasn't sure. But this afternoon had become full of potential in multiple ways.
"My husband's and my marriage is based on three things," Linda laughed, ticking her list off on her long elegant fingers. "Sex, of course, is one. Intense, creative, well-researched sex." She looked at me significantly when she mentioned research. Linda had already told me that she and her husband had a tacitly unacknowledged, but mutually quite open marriage. "Second is intensely competing to see who makes the most money. (I'm ahead this year by a good bit)" she went on. "And third, golf! You can see I have us all packed for a golf week in Jamaica. We leave tomorrow, as soon as he gets back from Seattle."
I looked at the small suitcase. "That's all you are packing for a week?"
Linda laughed leeringly. "We stay at the Grand Permian Club. It's a clothing-optional all-inclusive resort. We never take the option. All that is in that suitcase is our toiletries and golf clothes for 18 to 27 holes a day at the surrounding courses."
I stepped out to the pool, my mind racing. I was already in my swimsuit, as I always was when I hung out in my backyard by my own pool, and set to work getting the shit-ton of leaves out of her pool. Soon, Linda came out to "sunbathe", as she always did when someone was cleaning her pool. She hadn't even bothered putting on a bikini to immediately take off and was already completely naked. Tan lines weren't her thing, though I knew she often did lie out with her suit on as well--just not when she had company.
It took me longer than it had in the past to get rid of all the leaves, partly because there was an unusually large number of them, partly because Linda looked especially wanton as she watched my wade around the pool, and partly because I was trying to figure out how to combine pleasuring her brains out with making a very high-stakes investment pitch.
I decided to tackle them in that order. The leaves were done at last, and I left the pool dripping, my wet suit plastered tightly against my very evident hard-on.
"Thank you so much for the help," Linda cooed in the high-pitched, slightly annoying voice that was practically the only fault I'd seen in her yet. "I think I can see how I might be able to thank you today," she added, rising and walking toward me on the grass. She reached out and tugged loose the drawstring on my suit, pulling it down as she kneeled before me. She caressed my shaft softly, then with more vigor, and bent to clasp my head between her lips. I sighed happily and contentedly let her work for a bit. But I knew this thank you session needed to be much more about giving than receiving.
I lay down on the grass and Linda sank down beside me, bending once more to suck on my eager member. But now I reached out and pulled her hips towards me. Linda immediately recognized what I was suggesting and eagerly straddled my face, never letting my cock escape her lips. I began to enthusiastically devour her expertly-waxed snatch, perfectly smooth aside from the small neat triangle at its top which was well out of the way of my oral ministrations. As with previous experiences, she was delicious.
As we orally caressed each other, I lifted my hands between us and grasped her dangling breasts. Linda had the most expertly enhanced tatas I had even laid hands on.They looked simultaneously convincing yet physically impossible. They even felt almost real. I loved playing with them, especially their large, hard, responsive nipples.
I felt my impeding orgasm on the horizon, and desperately started distracting myself with thoughts of the tax code and how boring hockey was, anything to make sure she came first. I also concentrated even harder on making that happen, kissing and circling her clit with my tongue while gently but hungrily tugging and pinching her breasts.
