Wisps of hair falling across my cheek, I raise my hand to brush the soft curls aside and notice you watching me. You're standing maybe two feet behind me, though the space seems much~ closer. I can feel your hungry eyes lingering on the soft swell of my full breasts, descending over my tight ass, to my bare tanned legs. I tell the man behind the counter that I would like to play 9 holes, and that I want a cart. He mentions to me that you are golfing alone also, and asks me if I would like to pair up with you. I turn back to you, and my eyes drink you in. From those dark bedroom eyes and that naughty smile, to your khaki shorts, and the promising bulge in them. Your skin is a dark mocha color, and my mind is racing with all sorts of thoughts, wondering if the myth about black men is true, particularly in your case. I feel that delicious warmth, the sweet rush of heat between my thighs, and I tell the clerk I would love to share with you.
You extend your hand, and introduce yourself as Gregg. Your huge hand closing over mine as your soft seductive smile causes my nipples to pucker. You notice the instant reaction, the white tank top revealing my attraction to you, and you hold my hand for a moment too long before saying "shall we?".
The sounds in the busy clubhouse, mask the soft moan that escapes my dark lips. We step out into the warm sunshine, and stroll down the path to the carts. I'm watching your ass shifting in your pants as you walk, wondering how the warm sunshine would feel beating down on it. Me underneath you, your hands squeezing my tits, licking, sucking the dark cherry bits. Wildly squirming, creaming, your cock stroking my soaking cunt, making me cummmmm.
Suddenly I realize you've stopped at the cart. I was caught up in my own little daycream, and my panties are already moist. I watch the muscles in your arms flexing as you lift your bag to the cart and strap it in. You turn to me and ask me if I need any help and I reply, "No thanks, I can handle you", stammering a bit, "I mean them~". Your eyebrows raise at the revealing slip of my tongue, and you motion for me to get into the cart. As I lift my leg, the short skirt slides up my thigh, and you catch a glimpse of white panties. During the short ride to the first tee, your eyes keep roaming up and down my shapely legs. In your mind you're stroking my inner thigh, fingertips moving through soft curls, dipping inside, bringing them to your full lips and licking the warm cream off.
I spend the next hour or so just studying you. The well defined muscles in your thighs, the rich laughter. The way the muscles ripple in your back when you swing your clubs. I want to feel you....on me. Your weight crushing me. But my subtle flirting seems to be lost on you. Flashing a glimpse of panties here and there. Pausing a moment when retrieving the ball from the cup. Giving you a full view of my nice ass or round, full breasts. And still no reaction.
