Courtney Connors was one of those girls everyone called hot. Red hot.
Courtney had been every guyās dream girl in high school back in the late 80s, but I got to know her at the Stone Harbor Golf Club where I worked as a cart attendant and she as a cart girl.
For those who arenāt golfers, the cart girl is a sort of waitress on wheels. She drives a golf cart stocked with beverages, snacks and so forth around the golf course. These women are generally young and good looking, quick with a quip and a smile because it led to tips.
At this New Jersey club it meant a hundred bucks a day if the weather was good and play way high. .Like most experienced cart girls (there must be a manual somewhere) Courtney always had a big smile, wore tight white shorts and a club golf shirt. Prim and proper to one degree, oozing sexiness to another.
Courtney had little time for me, choosing to cavort with sports studs, but whenever she needed some help around the club I would pitch in, if only to get a close look at the 18-year-old blonde cheerleader.
āHey Rob, can you help me with this box?ā asked the 5-4, blue-eyed girl.
Boy can I help with your box, I thought, but merely replied āsureā.
I loaded the box into her cart, staring at her shapely tanned legs as she slipped in to the driverās seat an drove away.
God she was hot.
On the infrequent occasions we got a chance to talk ā usually when she was stocking the cart ā Courtney mentioned she had received a partial scholarship to Villanova, but unless finances improved she might start college at a local community college.
I joked she could go to Rowan University with me...maybe even share a dorm room, causing her to laugh out loud and mutter āIn your dreams.ā
She was out of my league, so I was thrilled just to infrequently talk and of course soak in her good looks whenever I could.
Midway through the summer Courtney was talking about Philadelphia and I mentioned college, and she informed me that she definitely would be attending school on the Main Line. She told of her parents finally agreeing to a school loan, and she said her earnings over the summer would make up the difference needed to attend the prestigious school.
I didnāt think about it at first, but one night after giving her a hard-pounding fuck in my masterbatory bed I somehow got to wondering how she had gone from someone with little chance of getting the money for the college of her choice to a slam dunk entry. The partial scholarship and the small student loan didnāt add up to the large amount required to attend, but I guess the tips were good when you were a beautiful female batting your eyelashes and wiggling your behind at men all day.
The events of late July enlightened my thinking.
It was a hot, sticky Jersey Shore day, complete with a 4 p.m. thundershower which sent most of the members scurrying to shelters on the course or into the clubhouse. Courtney drove into the cart barn then headed toward the restaurant with her cash box, and I remember thinking that maybe she was skimming money off the top to add to her tips. Nah.
The rain was torrential at times, and the barn got hotter and stickier my the minute, so when it began to let up I decided to head out to my car for a new shirt. Rather than walk around to the lot, which involved heading around a long pathway then behind the maintenance shed, I sort of trekked up a sandy mound and through some evergreens and to my car.
Opening the trunk, I pulled out a new club shirt then glanced around the lot. Seeing nobody, I slipped off my wet shirt. Just then I heard a car approaching, and realizing I could get into some trouble for changing in the lot I quickly grabbed my new shirt, shut the trunk, then scampered up the closest hill into the trees before being spotted.
Out of breath, I paused at the top of the hill in the evergreens and tidied up my shirt before heading back to the cart barn. Something, however, told me to see who was driving into the lot, and I glanced out of my secluded location only to eye the black Mercedes of Mr. Gamble, a local realtor. Nothing surprising there, although I did wonder why he was driving in to the back lot normally reserved for employees.
What startled me more was that Courtney was in the passenger seat. Pretty, sexy, untouchable Courtney.
My inquisitive mind got the best of me, and I sat out of sight as the twosome parked in the rear of the lot, well away from spying eyes but not mine. The two talked for a couple minutes, and I noticed Courtney laughing at one of Mr. Gambleās corny jokes. At least thatās what I surmised, because he was known around the club for two things, his lousy tips and his bad jokes.
I knew I needed to get back to my job, but I couldnāt get myself to leave. I had to know what was up. It wasnāt long before I knew.
Mr. Gamble began looking around and I noticed him sort of adjusting his midsection, shuffling in the driverās seat. It all happened so fast that nothing dawned on me until seconds later when Courtney, miss prim and proper Courtney, miss I donāt have time for mere mortals Courtney lowered her head into Mr. Gambleās lap.
It struck me like a ton of bricks. Courtney Connors was sucking cock. Mr. Gambleās to be precise.
Now from my vantage point I couldnāt be sure. I mean, I didnāt see his cock and to be honest I could only see the top of her head. But that head was bobbing up and down on something in his large lap. It didnāt take a map for me to get the picture.
I attempted to slip a little in the shadows to get a better look, but it was impossible to do without moving into a location where I might be observed by the lovemaking twosome. So I resigned myself to see what I could from my secure spot. I remember thinking that it was odd that this middle aged, married man with a paunch was able to attract this blonde beauty, but those thoughts were quickly dispelled as I was drawn to the naughty couple.
Never before had I been a voyeur, but I have to tell you, even not seeing everything it was the hottest thing I had ever seen. Hotter than when I stumbled across my dadās porno collection. The actors into raw sex, but the vision of Courtney going down on Mr. G. was way more exciting to my eyes.
Mr. Gambleās head was well back against the headrest, and I could tell his body was rocking up and down. The top of the blonde mane of my favorite cart girl slipped in and out of view, first slowly, then a little faster, then speeding up as the two rocked together. Suddenly Mr. Gamble stopped mid-bounce, and his hands encircled Courtneyās head.
Uh huh, he was cumming. He had to be cumming. And from the way he was holding the girlās head, he was cumming in the mouth of the girl with the light red lipstick.