Rimming the Cup

"Blind squirrels find a nut every now and then," 51 year old Judy Melvin told herself as she aimlessly stumbled through the undergrowth in the woods just off the 6th fairway.

"But probably not this time," the freshly minted grandmother grumbled as she dodged what looked to be a patch of poison ivy.

"Not exactly my idea of a relaxing vacation," she shook her head and thought as she looked for the little white dimpled heathen her husband had just shanked off the tee.

Playing a round of alternate shot with a couple she and Wesley had met the night before, the next swing belonged to Judy and she was determined to find the thing.

"Look at him out there gabbing on his cellphone...so much for getting away from the office for a week," the lifelong native of Cincinnati chirped as she used one of her clubs to shove aside the brush and shrubbery.

Wesley Melvin had won an all expense paid trip to Myrtle Beach a few weeks back, providing he and his wife their first opportunity to take a real vacation in nearly a decade. Granted 10 free rounds of golf came with the prize, but Judy had gone south with visions of shopping excursions, lazy afternoons by the pool and visits to the resort's spa.

While she didn't exactly hate her husband, or his golfing addiction, at that moment both were numbers one and two, with a bullet, on her shit list. If it hadn't been for how well she'd hit it off with the Masons, the couple from the suburbs of Chicago they'd met the night before, Judy wouldn't be anywhere near the course playing a round.

"The son-of-a-bitch can't even hit the toilet when he's standing directly over top of it half the time...how is he supposed to hit a golf ball straight," Judy looked through the woods and cringed as her husband continued to lambast whoever he was talking to from his office back home.

"Need some help...you know I'm allergic to bees...right?" Lynette Mason said from the sundrenched fairway, making it all too clear she wouldn't be venturing into the woods to help her new friend.

As annoying as Judy's husband could be, at least he did it in an understated way. Nothing compared to the band of brutish louts that were playing a couple of holes ahead of the Melvins and Masons. The sounds of those men's' obscenity laden frolicking filtered readily through the calm, mid February air, but it wasn't to the point where Judy found it necessary to report them. At the moment she had far more disconcerting matters at hand, finding her husband's wayward drive.

"Oh...there's a ball," she instantly perked up, shuffling towards the lonely little orb only to realize it wasn't hers.

"Just play it anyway and get on with the round," she told herself, knowing it would break every long standing rule of golf.

"No...just look for yours a little whole longer...you can always come back to that one," Judy decided.

It was a decision that would lead to a breach in etiquette the Royal & Ancient never covered.

The swath of woods Judy was traipsing through separated the 6th fairway her group was playing from the 11th where the group of loudmouths were currently at. Much to her chagrin, it appeared as if one of them had also shanked a shot of course when the loudest of the guys took a few steps into the woods about 150 feet up the hill.

"Maybe that ball I just saw was his," Judy mumbled out loud, deciding if it was in fact, she'd just keep that little secret to herself.

As it turned out, the guy was more concerned with freeing the previous few beers he'd drank instead of finding a wayward drive.

"Ohh...Yuck," she bit her lip and groaned, lowering her head instantly as a blush came across her face.

The topography of the course had the back nine at a slightly higher grade than the front nine Judy's group was currently on. Even though the guy in question was a half a football field away however, and close to 20 feet above the level she was standing, Judy could still hear the faint echo of his piss stream sizzling down on the foliage lining the forest floor.

"Oh God...what if he see's me," Judy's stomach rolled, instinctively looking up to make sure his eyes hadn't latched on to her.

Thankfully, he seemed more concerned tipping the can of Bud Light to his mouth with his left hand as he steadied his penis in his left.

"He must have started drinking at dawn," she incredulously noted, thinking it was impossible for a man to pee for as long as this guy seemingly was.

Sensing she was safe from view, just to be sure Judy still slunk behind a tree and waited there until the coast was clear. Hidden out of the way, she did lose her ability to hear the man's stream hitting the ground. Taking a quick peek back up the hill, Judy looked out just in time to see the guy shaking the last few drops of dew from his prick head before stuffing the thing back inside his Dockers.

There in seclusion, for the first time since the man unzipped and proceeded to pee, something about the proportionality of it all simmered inside Judy's head. Before she could make any meaning of it however, her husband yelled out from the fairway.

"Give it up Judy...the Masons said I could take a mulligan," Wes hollered down from the tee.

Judy waited until the guy above had tossed his empty beer can off into the woods then made his way back out to join his group before she turned to join hers. When she walked back out from the woodline, suddenly the Sun seemed much warmer on her skin than it had before.

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Two nights following Judy's 'encounter' with the vulgar stranger on the golf course, she found herself having dinner with her husband at one of the town's finer establishments. They were about halfway through the meal when the familiar tone of the same man raised the hair on the back of Judy's neck. Even though the dining room was dimly lit, she looked over her husband's left shoulder and recognized the guy in question standing with several of his friends on the far side of the bar, 30 or so feet away.

Just the cocksure and arrogant sound of the man's voice made Judy nauseous. One second she was enjoying five star cuisine, and the next she was tempted to spit a mouthful of it out in her napkin. Through it all, her husband continued to tell a longwinded story, oblivious to his wife's distraction.

"Umm...humm...Yeah...uh...huh," Judy would occasionally nod her head and reply, having learned long ago how to fake her attention with Wes even though her focus was squarely somewhere else.

If Wesley Melvin had surveyed the gaze of his wife of 25 years just a tad closer, he may have been startled by the glow of ambiguous fascination in her hazel eyes.

Lost in a self induced fog, it took a few seconds for Judy to realize her husband was addressing her directly.

"...dessert, hon...what do you think you'll want for dessert?" Wes asked, studying the menu as he put the finishing touches on his entree.

"...Oh...I don't know...I might just skip it," Judy blathered, still looking over her husband's left shoulder with such subtlety he'd think she was staring at him.

If he'd looked up from the dessert options at just the right moment, Wes would have seen that gleam of fascination in Judy's eyes suddenly ember into to jealousy when the man at the bar began conversing with a 20 something blonde.

Without her glasses, the restaurant was way too dark for Judy to get a good look at the goings on at the bar, and the last thing she wanted to do was be too obvious in her interest. Each time she tried focusing her attention back on her husband and her meal however, she felt a gnawing urge to stare back over his shoulder.

"...I've got to get up...gotta use the ladies room...," Judy finally said, pushing herself back from the table.

Wes seemed relatively unphased, only giving her a cursory nod as he chewed the last few bites of his entree.

"You OK?" he managed to ask after swallowing.

"Oh...yeah...just need to powder up?" Judy replied, tapping him reassuringly on the shoulder as she passed even though her eyes were clearly locked on the party clustered around the far end of the bar.

It had been awhile since Judy Melvin had worn 4 inch heels, and she was so self conscious about keeping her balance stepping away from the table that she nearly toppled over the foot of the man sitting to her right.

"Oh...Ooops...sorry," she croaked, patting her chest and taking a few deep breaths before resuming her journey across the dining room.

"You're gonna walk right past him, Judy...you're not even gonna look in his direction," she defiantly braced herself as she neared the spot the man's group was gathered.

Getting close enough the pick up on the scent of the young blonde's perfume however, something primal tripped within the married mother of two. The last thing Judy expected was for the guy to divert his attention from the platinum blonde he was chatting up when she walked past.

The strands of her curly chestnut brown hair, streaked with a hint of gray, tickling her rouge colored cheeks each time she took a step, it wasn't long before Judy got her first enthralling whiff of the man's cologne.

"Just keep your face forward and don't trip," she kept telling herself as she navigated the mine field of shuffling feet and chair legs lining the path to the bathroom.

Just as she was about to pass the spot he was standing however, the man darted like a hawk into her peripheral vision. Stopping, as anyone would, Judy politely offered the gentleman the chance to go first. In that fraction of a second, Judy was able to study the guy without looking too obvious in her appraisal. He appeared to be in his late 30's, was nicely tanned, and seemed much taller than she thought in the moments of looking at him a few days earlier standing on the hill above her.

"I'm headed to the bathroom...care to join me. You can watch me take a piss again," Judy swore she heard the words leaving the man's lips.

Shaking her head as if a transistor had blown between her ears, Judy watched the man's lips move a second time before realizing he'd simply said, "Go ahead...ladies first."

"Uhhh...thanks," Judy sheepishly nodded her head before bowing it and trudging forward.

"God...this is so embarrassing...I'm going mad," she shook her head and mumbled as she stepped towards the door of the women's room, and the sanctuary that waited inside.

Before she could disappear inside however, Judy could sense the man's presence behind her, and in the reflection of the freshly buffed door she could see he wasn't alone.

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"What are you gonna do now?" Judy asked herself, having made the trip to the restroom when in all honesty, she didn't need to use it.

Taking a few seconds to freshen her make-up and primp her hair in the mirror, Judy thanked her lucky stars she didn't look as disheveled as she felt. Having the bathroom all to herself for the moment, she even gave herself a little verbal pep talk to grow up.

"Get on back out there and enjoy your dinner with your husband," she chided the face staring back. "You've been waiting for a vacation for over five years and you've finally got one, yet you're in here in a bathroom talking to yourself."

Perhaps it was an extended case of empty-nest syndrome, but both her daughters had graduated college over the past few years and had been out of the house for quite awhile. Perhaps it was the after-effects of the change of life she'd just gone through, and the continued wrestling match with her out of whack hormones. More likely, and perhaps more selfishly, it was simply an outgrowth of the perceived lack of attention she was getting at home. A problem that served as an extra set on carry-on baggage that had made the 1000 mile trip south with the couple. Perhaps it was something as simple as missing the feeling of being desired.

Trying to pull herself out of her malaise of self pity, the faint echo of voices coming from the men's room on the other side of the wall trickled up through Judy's eardrums.

"Geez...," she muttered. "You'd think a nice place like this would have a little more insulation between the walls."

The longer she listened however, the genesis of the sounds became readily apparent.

Knowing the guy at the bar had fallen in line behind her on the way to the restroom, Judy made the natural assumption that one of his drinking buddies had to answer the call of nature as well. Hearing the clear traces of a female voice on the other side of the wall, it slowly dawned on Judy what might be going on.

"Just get back out there and finish your dinner before it gets cold...get out there before Wes comes looking for you," Judy tried telling herself, but her feet gradually began edging in the direction of the bathroom stalls to the spot on the wall where the sounds seemed to be centered.

"At least you're snooping around in a restroom at a fancy restaurant...not at some dive bar somewhere," Judy tried to make some light of her situation as she clicked the door of the stall closed behind her.

Locked inside, the walls of the stall seemed to amplify the noise coming from the men's room. It wasn't hard to make out what the feminine giggling and joviality over there was leading to.

"How long do you think you can stand in here before some other lady walks in?" she calmly asked herself as she guided her head towards the wall above the toilet.

"God, this is so tawdry," she scolded herself, knowing how it must look with her teetering on the tips of her heels to press the side of her head flat against the ivory tiles.

It wasn't long before the giggling on the other side of the wall ceased, followed by a few seconds of silence then the occasional rustle of clothing and shifting bodies.

"You're not going to be able to hear anything," Judy started to mouth when the thump of two hands caused the wall to vibrate in front of her.

The cartridge of her right ear flush against the cool smooth surface, Judy held her breath as her pulse raced, listening for the crude, telltale signs of impromptu coitus.

Visualizing the blonde from the peeks she'd taken earlier, Judy kept her head tilted to the side as the sounds steadily morphed from playfulness to something a tad more serious. A frigid tremor raced down Judy's spine when she heard the girl gasp through the wall.

"Little bit more than you thought, huh," Judy heard the man's haughty remark as the girl continued to whimper, the sound of her fingernails clear as she undoubtedly tried gaining a hold of the wall in the opposite stall.

Instantly, Judy was transported a day and a half back to the woods lining that 6th fairway where her husband's golf ball was lost. Suddenly Judy now grasped what had been so odd about the proportionality of what she'd seen as the man took a piss.

Not exactly a veteran of watching men pee, she'd still seen enough penises over the years to have some grasp of what they looked like urinating. Closing her eyes as she disappeared 36 hours back in time, Judy now remembered the obscene way the man's dick swung far lower than she'd expected as he watered the ground below.

With each successive breath, the girl's cries grew in intensity and volume, causing goose bumps to rise on Judy's bare shoulders. Unable to see for herself what was transpiring just a few feet away, Judy's mind created its own narrative.

The girl and the guy had likely been flirting with each other for awhile before she joined his group at the bar. There had been some playful back and forth until the guy pretty much knew he had her in the bag anytime he wanted. Taking poetic license, Judy envisioned how the man had warned the young girl what she might be in for only to have her jokingly laugh it off as false bravado. Judy then imagined how the man took the girl's dainty hand into his strong, insistent grip and lowered it towards his crotch as his buddies stared on, essentially acting as a shield from anyone else watching in the restaurant.

A tingle swept like buckshot through Judy's quim when she pictured how the girl must have jumped when the guy pressed her hand down on the log growing along the inside of his thigh. Closing her own left hand against the wall to steady herself, Judy's mouth watered as girl yelped once again.

Instead of wasting their time walking back to the hotel down the street, the girl told the man to take her right there in the establishment's restroom.

"They were walking right behind you, Jude...they may have been on their way into the ladies room to do it before you ducked in and they just went into the men's room as plan B," she theorized.

Now it seemed clear the girl's mouth had written a check her ass couldn't cash.

"GGAAAWWDDD...AAAHHHGGRRR... AAAHHHH...GO SLOW...PLLEEEZZZEEE," Judy heard the girl beg, the youthful exuberance and confidence in her voice all but gone.

"I thought you said you could handle it," the guy cockily crooned, the sound of his hand slapping the girl's ass stinging Judy's ears as she voyeuristically listened.

"...Just...please...go...slow," the girl now sounded very young and unsure of herself as her fingernails continued to dig at the smooth tiled surface of the wall.

"I am," he jeered. " I've barely even shoved the head in!"

Envisioning how it must look with the girl bent over the toilet, her face mere inches from Judy's through the wall, Judy could see the man perched behind her, hiking the girl's skirt up and twisting the strand of her black thong aside he guided his horse-hung girth between the tender pale cheeks of her ass.

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Angelique Maybin was 25, and on vacation for the first time since graduating college. Working as a pharmaceutical sales rep, things were going quite well for the vivacious former Carolina cheerleader. Between a great paying job where she got to hobnob with bunches of wealthy men, a company issued Corvette and the perks that came with being stunningly beautiful, Angel pretty much had it made.

Perfectly suited for her career, Angel was nearly 5'9" with long natural blonde hair that hung halfway down her back when she didn't have it up. Possessing the body of a spokesmodel, she also had a personality to match. No matter what room it may be, every head (male and female) would inevitably turn whenever she walked in. Things were no different that particular night.

Always making a point to narrow her focus down to the most desirable men in the room, Angel rarely had a problem landing her target. Within 15 minutes of cozying up to the bar, she'd found her match for the evening with a well tanned business man from Tempe named Byron Hodges. Playing coy for a couple of minutes, Angel finally accepted the invitation to join Byron and his friends for a few drinks and not so polite conversation.

Having escorted on and off to help pay her way through school, Angel could generally peg men like Byron a mile away. Even into young adulthood, she found herself instantly gravitating to guys just like him who seemed worldly, confident, and more to the point, financially secure. Perhaps it was the fact she never knew her father growing up, perhaps it was the nice things they occasionally bought her, or deep down, perhaps it was just the feeling that she was getting attention from someone perceived as important. In any event, Byron was squarely in Angel's wheelhouse, and as with most serendipitous liaisons, the feeling was mutual.

There was no question Byron enjoyed the attention he was getting from his friends, not to mention the wandering glance of most everyone in the place for having the prettiest girl in the room hanging on his every word. He could have whisked Angel out of there anytime he wanted, but when the flirtatious banter led to possibly consummating the deed in a risqué place, the restaurant's powder room seemed like the most convenient shot. They would have, in fact, done it in the ladies room if Judy hadn't walked in there just in front of them. Thus, they settled for the men's.