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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In the days following the finalization of the land purchase for my country club development project, I continued to search for and lock down crucial employees. The course designer that Charlie, my pro had recommended had indeed been enthusiastic about the project and was on-board. The designer and Charlie were working away with the civil engineering outfit I had found to lay out the course and plan roads and subdivision maps. A separate architect was designing the clubhouse and surrounding supporting facilities like tennis courts and the extensive pool facility I envisioned.
Meanwhile, I was still working my hardest at my existing sales job, and had decided the time wasn't quite right yet to reveal my plans to my boss Cathy. This meant that I had been burning the candle at both ends a fair amount when our company's employee golf outing rolled around. I was tasked with riding with the boss, so she could gauge my efforts so far at learning the game.
The good news was that I played pretty well. I actually got through seventeen holes at just 15 over par, which I though was pretty good for someone who had only been playing (and reluctantly at first) for a few months. The less said about the eighteenth and its various water hazards, the better. Further good news was that being paired with Cathy gave me a hitherto undreamt of opportunity to watch her twisting, stretching, and of course bending over for literally hours. My boss had been blessed with an absolutely banging figure and a lovely face that was further illuminated by her considerable intelligence. And she was an absolute master of dressing in a way that incited raging desire while never being remotely overtly sexy. For this event, she was sporting a pair of quite form-fitting capri golf pants in pink, green, and yellow plaid, and a matching pink sleeveless pull-over top with an enchanting v-neck that was JUST shallow enough to not show any cleavage, even when she bent over to address the ball. It was a tease that actually increased the sexiness of her admirably formed torso.
The bad news was that I was tired, and Cathy ribbed me more times that was really comfortable about my yawning.
We talked throughout the day about my conversion to the Church of Golf. Each time the subject came up, things would always circle back to Cathy telling me that she had told me so. I kept feeling a little guilty that her pressing me to take up the game was going result in me leaving her company. To stave that off, I harped on how long a drive it was for both of us to get to her club. The club I was going to begin construction on shortly would be the only such facility on our side of the city. I really hoped that the convenience of the facility I was going to offer would appeal to her enough for her to forgive me.
My angst- (and minor boner-) inspiring round of golf with Cathy complete, I turned back to my recruitment drive in the limited spare time I had available. Some hires were no-brainers. My personal trainer Courtney was an example. By running my fitness center, she could add a nice salary and benefits to her training earnings. The club would buy virtually all the equipment she had in her little dojo. And she would certainly help recruit new members from among her existing clients.
Some of my other choices were more risky, or harder to recruit. Recruiting Nikki, the owner of my favorite bakery and café, was both. Risky, because while she would absolutely kill all the casual but most important daily food items for a golf club, Nikki had no banquet experience since her culinary school days. It was also risky because she was an enthusiastic nudist, and I had to be sure that she would not decide to dress (or not) at my club like she did in the kitchen of her own cafe. The hard part was that she had been her own boss for a long time. Finally she agreed, after much cajoling.
Another hard sell was convincing my intended pool manager to take the job. Monique was, in my opinion, the best dancer at the best strip club in the city. She also was smart as a whip, swam in college, and was great with people. The problem was that I had to convince her to take a pay cut. Job security, corporately useful experience, and the opportunity to finish her degree in the winters finally convinced her.
I know it sounds like I was just hiring hot women with whom I'd had sex, as if I was assembling a harem. I was actually doing the opposite. I had learned from Cathy and my time at her company of the importance of absolutely forbidding relationships with or between employees. I was actually giving up a large portion of my current sexual opportunities, not expanding them. In one or two cases, we availed ourselves of the 'last chance loophole' before actually signing any contracts, but I was significantly diminishing my current horizons.
I also was hiring plenty of men, like our future tennis director and our greenskeeper. And yes, I made sure that they could stand up to all the gorgeous women I was hiring in the looks department. I didn't want anything to be unfair for the women members!
The only big position I had left to fill while I was still in the design phase was a really good bar manager. But I knew who I wanted. Tonya was the lead bartender at a nice little cocktail bar a customer had turned me on to recently. She was a dab hand at cocktails, was charming, and knew how to manage the logistics behind a bar. And of course, she was very easy on the eyes.
I had been stopping there for a drink fairly frequently, but while I was plenty attracted to her, I'd never encountered an opportunity to try anything serious. It was a good bar so of course there were always customers. I had some reason to think she might well be open to a play though. We always flirted, and while Tonya flirted with most male customers, I had determined that she tended to flirt longer and more earnestly with me.
One day, I was leaving my real estate firm's offices, which were near Tonya's bar. It was hours before the place opened, but I noticed the front door propped open by a small hand dolly. Peeking through the door, I saw Tonya opening boxes of liquor sitting on the bar. If she was working alone, this might be the perfect opportunity for all manner of propositions....
I pushed the door open, and Tonya immediately called out, "I'm sorry, we are clo... Oh hi! Come on in. And pull in the dolly, will you? I was using it to keep the door open, and forgot it when I was done." I stepped inside and let the door close fully behind me. It sure sounded like we were alone.
"I was walking by with some time on my hands, and saw the door," I said as I wandered over to the bar. "Anything I can help with?"
"I've got a ton of bottles to find space for up on the back bar. Think you'd mind handing them up to me?" Tonya asked with a grin that communicated that she damned well knew I'd love to do that. The wall of the back bar was huge and high, and filled with an incredible selection of liquors and liqueurs. There was a rolling library ladder so staff could climb to reach the upper shelves. Looking up at Tonya when she climbed that ladder was always a highlight of coming to this bar. And she was well aware of my fandom. She had noted playfully on more than one occasion that I never ordered any drink there that did not require at least one bottle from a high shelf.
"I've got the boxes located roughly where the bottles inside need to go," Tonya went on. "Just come around behind the bar and start handing them up to me!" I had never been behind the bar, of course, but I made my way there with alacrity. Tonya slid the ladder to one end and mounted it easily. Since it was long before opening, she was not dressed in her usual working garb that included her soft, black, form-fitting trousers. Instead, she just had on a loose, untucked t-shirt and a pair of very tight white shorts. They were short enough, in fact, that a good finger's breadth of bare skin was visible above where her firm thighs transitioned smoothly into the curve of her ass. This was going to be a very scenic favor I was doing!
We quickly got into a rhythm, with her atop the ladder, stepping down a rung or two to take a bottle I handed up to her, and then re-ascending as needed to find a spot for it. The view was even better than I had thought. Her loose t-shirt dangled from the tent created by her bra-free breasts, giving me an occasional view up at some tasty-looking underboob. Pretty early on, I thought she caught me staring up her shirt, but said nothing. I became convinced she had caught me in short order when she started leaning over more than necessary, and at the right angles to give me even better looks.
After a bit, she pushed the ladder down toward the other end of the wall and we resumed our work in tandem. Tonya kept having to go up and down the ladder an awful lot to reach the bottles I was handing up. So I started grabbing a high rung, and pulling myself up to hand the bottles to her. This worked well, and we proceeded. But then she started leaning out further to the side. This simultaneously gave me a better show up her shirt, and slid her hip and thigh to the edge of the ladder. That meant that the only place I could grab the thing to get the bottles up to her was between her legs. Pretty far up between her legs. I went for it, and if she had any reaction, it was a slight smile.
After a few transfers with my ladder hand inches below her crotch, I handed up another bottle. Tonya took it and looked around for a place to put it. She shook her head and came down a rung to reach a lower shelf. This practically buried my hand in her barely clad snatch.
And she made exactly zero reaction.
She seemed intent on not putting any bottles on higher shelves after that though. She just kept working the level she was on, rubbing her crotch against my fingers as she leaned back and forth. All too soon I was handing the last bottle and told her that was it. Taking the bottle, she looked me in the eyes as gave she herself the most blatant rub against my hand yet, then leaned way over above me and tried it in several perfectly suitable locations before she settled it on a shelf with a sigh. She pulled herself up slightly, releasing my hand. I stepped off the ladder and she hopped down to the floor beside me.
"Well!" she exclaimed. "You just cost me a workout, but saved me a shit-ton of work! Whatever," she asked meaningfully, "will I do with all this unexpected free time I have?"
"I have some ideas," I murmured, equally meaningfully, as I reveled in her come-on.
