Four Ball (FF, FF) Four Ball The sky didn't look good for golf as I drove my Cadillac under the cover of the clubhouse extension. Tommy sauntered out to pull my heavy bag from the trunk. I tipped the young man very well so we both came away happy. He really wouldn't like my bag today because of the added weight of the rain gear, but then again he wouldn't want to schlepp my purse either. I left the keys in the ignition and slid outside. "True golfer's weather, Dr. Cantwell," Tommy quipped. "Contrary to what my students used to think, it won't melt me," I answered with my usual tight smile. "Well, Mrs. Beltran is having a fit inside and..." here a grunt punctuated the sentence as he lifted the bag, "Mrs. Taylor ain't too thrilled and Mrs. Beltran's daughter isn't sayin' anything." Tommy chucked the bag onto the back of the electric cart. "Situation normal." "Thanks for the briefing," I said as I passed over some cash. " Now don't screw around with my car!" Tommy let out a good country guffaw as he plopped on the plush seat and slammed the door. As I went to the cart to get my shoe and toiletry bag I heard the electric window on the Caddy slide down. "Hey prof," Tommy called out. I looked back at him. "You think Toni would go out with me?" "I'll put in a good word, but that doesn't mean she'll listen." "Cool." Tommy drove the car out to the parking lot. Elena Beltran's daughter wouldn't give him the time of day. He was an amiable enough person, but Antonia was not his type. She was a sullen and quiet girl. I carried my little duffel into the spacious and elegant clubhouse. Roy and I had treated ourselves to this membership, and after his death I adopted the course as a second home. Within a few carpeted paces I could hear Elena's staccato voice emanating from one of the lounges. All I had to do was follow the tone. As I drew close enough to hear snippets I thought how nice a cloudy, dreary day was when your skin was as pale and sensitive as mine. I still put on the cremes, lotions, and balms and wore proper caps, but in the Florida humidity shorts were still the only choice. My three co-competitors were triangled at a round table. All had drinks, but I suspected Joan's was the only one with alcohol. Joan and Antonia sat silently as Elena complained about the weather. "Fran, we can't play today!" Elena said upon seeing me. "It is filthy out there and it's about to pour." Elena spoke as much with her hands as her mouth. I couldn't believe she'd go to the trouble of applying bright red nail polish before swinging away with a golf club. The rings would bother me too. "Mama, just stay here." Antonia sounded perpetually disinterested. Her plain appearance contrasted with Elena's heavy makeup and Joan's brassy red hair, brightly colored polo shirt and gaudy vest. Toni's simple white blouse and light blue shorts were decidedly different. "Antonia, mind your tone." Elena waved a finger in her daughter's direction. I dropped my bag and sat between Toni and Joan. "What do you think?" Joan asked between sips of whatever her pleasure was today. "She thinks we should stay inside and talk or play cards," Elena interrupted as she stared at me and arched her black eyebrows. "I'm playing." That was pretty matter-of-fact. "I didn't drive out to sit in the lounge." "Let's just give it a try, huh?" Joan took a deep drink and clinked her glass on the table. "The air'll do me good." "They're right. You drug me out here so let's play golf while Daddy's partying in California." Antonia was not a happy camper. "Basta! Enough with the insults about your father. He is a hard working doctor who provides for his family and keeps you in college." "OK. Let's get to the tee and take it out on the golf ball." I wanted to nip this argument now. After I had changed shoes and put my things away in the locker room - if you'd dare degrade the place by calling it that - I drove the cart to the first tee. Antonia was my passenger; this was best since her mother and she would fight and Joan was numbed enough not to be bothered by the chatter. We all hit the ball about the same distance so the group made a good foursome. Elena swung very slowly on the backswing in imitation of her favorite golfer with whom she shared a similar build. Joan was the tallest, but her shortened swing took away distance. If she'd use her slender hips and long limbs to full advantage she'd outhit us by a mile. She hit the ball straight even after (and while) drinking. Antonia was her mother's height, but she was petite. Her long swing arc and silky smooth turn led to good ball striking. I hit with strength, but I tend to have a jerky motion that I've tried to correct for years. "Good one blondie!" Joan said after I really tore into one. We'd known each other long enough that she remembered my platinum blonde hair before the shift to bright white as I passed 50. Elena grumbled about the steadily increasing drizzle and kept to her cart or her umbrella when she wasn't hitting. Antonia didn't speak much as I steered the cart through the first three holes. She had brought no accessories for rain so her outfit became damper with each stroke. I did the same until the fourth tee when I relented and put on my rain jacket. Elena was becoming more discontented as her jet black hair with gray accents got a little wet; her partner had been sipping furtively from a flask that she kept in a pocket on her bag. I sighed. Jo was Jo, and lectures didn't do any good anymore. As we proceeded to the fourth green the drizzle crossed that fuzzy border into rain. Elena glared back at me and motioned resignation with her arms. "Mama is such a whiner," Toni said. She had her feet propped on the front of the cart and a crease showed on the underside of her light brown thighs where they had pushed down on the seam at the edge of the synthetic seat cover. "Your mother is opinionated and strong-willed, but she's a good person." Antonia looked at me patronizingly. "You're her friend and you have to say that. She's always bragging about 'Fran's money' and 'Fran wrote this!' Bullshit. So you taught English - big deal." "Alright then. I had to say it. Your mom's a bitch and her daughter inherited it." A cynical smile. Toni turned to face forward and stretched her arms above her head. She habitually did this, and each time her shirt would rise just enough to reveal her midriff. Her skin was just a little browner over her knees and elbows - what causes that? I pulled beside Joan and Elena, who had parked next to a greenside bunker. "That's it," Elena asserted, "we're going back to the clubhouse." Joan nodded a heavy-lidded agreement. "Fran, it's too wet now to play," Joan added. I'll bet she couldn't wait to retire to the coziness of the lounge and an afternoon spent drunk and giggly. Antonia glanced back and forth between the two carts. "Well, you head back then." I turned to my passenger. "You ride with them. It'll be stuffed in the seat, but you'll get back dry." "I'm not going back with Mama and the ditz," Toni whispered. "The rain doesn't bother me. It's not like it's cold or anything." "Antonia, come with us," Elena called over. "No Mama, I'm going to keep playing." "Suit yourself. We'll be waiting - dry." That disqualifies Joan, I thought. Elena snapped Joan's head back with her lurching takeoff in the electric cart. They sped back down the fairway and joined the stream of departing golfers. "You shouldn't antagonize your mother so much," I said as I zipped up my rain jacket. I turned around and grabbed my putter before leaving the shelter of the cart. Antonia lifted out her putter; the rain droplets dotted her blue shorts and weighed down the white fabric of her shirt. I stroked my first putt while Toni cleaned her ball. When I bent over to mark the ball the skies let go a torrent. "Shit!" I thought as I left the ball and splashed to the cart. Toni jumped in the other side. I was panting - not used to running. My playing partner was laughing out loud; there's a novelty. Her blouse was pasted to her now, and her shorts were dark instead of light blue. Bits of earth and grass clippings mottled her bare ankles. Trickles of water traced long streaks on her satiny legs. "You just told me not to antagonize Mama. Now look at us. She'll be pissed at you too! Tell me you didn't stay out here just to stick it to her." "Sassy, aren't we?" I reached for the cigarettes I kept discreetly concealed. I wanted a smoke, and I had managed to keep them dry. "You _smoke_? Miz professor-role-model lights up. Mama never says anything about your bad habits." I fired my lighter. Taking a deep draw felt so good in the soggy weather. "Let me have one," Antonia asked. "Don't tell me you partake of this vile weed," I said as I waved the cig in the air. "Does Mama know that bit of trivia?" "Prof, just give me one." "Here." I held mine in my lips as I held out the pack. Toni pulled one out and I lit it for her. She sucked hard on the fag and I couldn't help but look deeply into her brown eyes, the lines already beginning to show at the edges. "Call me Fran." I replaced the lighter as the rain pulsed in sheets along the fairways. The din from the cart roof made it difficult to hear, and the wind and mist sprayed us even under cover. "I wish I had blue eyes," she said flatly. "People always want to be what they aren't. I'd like to have your complexion." She closed her eyes and had another puff. My eyes drifted to the wet white shirt. Each of her prominent nipples was like the eraser on a child's starter pencil. I didn't look away fast enough as Elena's daughter opened her eyes as she exhaled. "I used to be embarrassed," Toni said through the smoky mist. "When I got cold they showed, after I swam they stuck out, and when I get turned on, well..." She flicked off some ash. "I was thinking how miserable you must be in those wet clothes," I took a quick drag and stared at the puddling green. "Walked around like this all the time." She let the burning cig hang from her mouth as she folded her arms across her chest. I laughed a little - too much like a titter. "I think we all have had to deal with that problem, men being men..." "Fuck 'em all, that's what I think now. Did it ever happen to you in class, while you were teaching?" I hadn't thought about that sweater in a long time. I always kept a button-down in class just in case. When I first landed an instructor job, "going braless" was in; I remembered the students. They were rows of free spirited youth - unabashed girls and distracted boys. It made teaching tougher, and my concentration often wavered. "Hello.....What are you thinking about?" Antonia drew out the "hello." "I had a sweater. And padding." "Like you need it. I see you stayed with the jacket thing." "OK, let's finish our smoke and get back to the clubhouse. You need a change of clothes." "I didn't bring any. Could I borrow that jacket?" I put out the cigarette and ground the butt into the ash tray. I unzipped my rain jacket and took it off. Thank God it was a tropical rain and it wasn't too cool. Antonia casually tossed her coffin nail onto the wet turf. Then she peeled off her top. "What are you doing?" I hissed. "You'll get us thrown off the course." "There's nobody out here but us crazies and besides, I'm going to put on your jacket. No one will notice. Look at this." Toni held out the sopping shirt. "I'd rather get this off and get into your dry jacket." "Quick then!" I swivelled around to make sure no prying eyes were about. My feelings were mixed; I hadn't felt this way since a certain counseling session with one of my students. Molly Levin. That was over twenty years ago. Roy and I had married months before, but I knew he was gay and I felt free from any sexual pressure. Molly...confused, in the middle of a crush, wanting to see me, to get advice... "Where are you, Fran?" I blinked back to the present. The pattering rain was hypnotic. Antonia had the rain jacket in her lap and she stuffed her shirt into her bag. Her hand was drenched from the brief exposure to the storm. "Hurry up so we can head back in." I knew it was gruff. "You sound like Mama." Hard but hurt, bitter. She dropped her head and spread open the jacket. "I'm sorry. You're not like your mother; you just try to be." "We have to be like this. It's how we take Daddy's affairs, his women, his...machismo. Mama can't love anymore." I took her in my arms. She pressed her face into my chest and I stroked her short black hair. Her fingers ran through my own damp hair. Toni nuzzled and kissed my neck as I rubbed her moist back. Her hands slid under my golf shirt and lifted it. I did not rebuff her. She was needful and passionate. Molly... Thunder rumbled in the distance as my bra was unclasped. Her hand worked under the cup and was filled with my breast as it fell free. Toni's fingers were cool and wet from the rain and they caressed my rapidly stiffening nipple. Her mouth was open on my throat now as she sucked and gently bit. "Toni." My voice was too husky. I knew that telling her to stop would be completely unconvincing. A gust of wind covered us in dewy mist. The girl only became more excited when I spoke. My shirt coming up, my breast entering her eager mouth, my shorts being hurriedly unbuttoned and unzipped, my body reclining on the cart seat, all happened in succession. Antonia pulled my panties down to my ankles where, along with the shorts, they cuffed me at the feet. She stood outside of the cart in the storm. My bare ass rested on the slick seat. After many years I was watching another student remove her clothes in front of me. My friend's daughter. The water beaded on her skin and thatch of pubic hair glistening black and thick. Her little brassiere remained, practically transparent. Maturity, experience, and restraint were no match for the flooding feelings stirred by this nymph. I let my pale thighs part from the assumed position of demure closure. Toni, slender and slippery, bent at the waist and I slid my butt so that my pussy and its cottony tuft were within reach of her tongue. Droplets fell from her hair onto my tummy as she kissed, licked, and sucked my aroused and sensitive clit. Her tongue worked into the slit, it probed - oh God so much better than any cock I had yielded to! She kneaded my thighs and water ran between my legs and mingled with my own wetness. The hammering rain covered most of my moaning, but Antonia's urgings were audible enough. "Sweet...", "Come on...", "Fran..." I came in a spasm, waves rocking my abdomen. I sat upright; I was so touchy I couldn't stand it. Toni kept plunging her tongue down and the beautiful tremors just kept going. Sitting I watched the rain cascade over her tiny brown buns as I pulled her soaked hair. My shirt dropped back over my chest. At last I tugged her from my pussy. She was breathing heavily and her face was wet and slick. My breathing was heavy too. Toni grinned her bitter smile as she slid her tongue around her lips. "I wish Mama had caught us." "Don't talk like that!" I was taken aback. "I shouldn't have let this happen." "But you did, and it made me feel good to do it to you - especially since you're a friend of hers." Shit, I had made a mistake here. I pulled up my shorts and sat in the cart. Toni, naked but for the bra and her footwear, stayed in the rain. "Please get dressed," I pled. "Let's go inside." I deliberately tried not to be commanding like her despised mother. She climbed in and knelt on the seat beside me. "I saw you staring at my tits. After I saw that look I had a feeling about you. I'm not the only woman you look at, am I?" "I care about you and I let things go; I thought you wanted this to happen." "Oh I did, Fran." "Would you like me to do you? Is that what you want?" I might as well be blunt now. "There is something you can do..." I didn't want to hear what Antonia had in mind. Her bitter nature ran far deeper and was more disturbed than I had known. "I won't be blackmailed. As far as anyone knows this never happened." "Gonna take a chance with who gets believed? The naive college girl or the retired..." "OK. Money?" "Let's go back to the clubhouse. The bitch and the drunk should be getting their massages by now." _________ We went to the locker room. The shock of Toni's demand had left me unable to think clearly. I put on dry clothes from my locker and found some things to fit Toni. Next we padded down the hall to the massage and sauna rooms. "Boozy floozy is already in the bar drinking," Toni whispered. "Wait until Gertrude comes out." In a few moments the masseuse exited the private room. Toni waved, smiled innocently and asked, "Is she in there?" "Shhhh. I think she's about to doze off," replied Gertrude as she wiped her hands. She hurried for her next appointment. Antonia and I slipped into the massage room. The privacy curtain allowed one to see only the foot of the massage table from the doorway. She shut the door and I went around the curtain. The room was dimly lit and relaxing Celtic background music played softly. Elena, her bronze skin oiled and glowing, was stretched out on the table. A bright white towel covered her copious derriere. "Fran! You see, the rain caught you - but you've changed clothes already. Where is my silly brat?" "She's around somewhere," I said vacantly. "Are you alright? Have a massage!" Elena turned to the side a bit so she could wave her arm. Her breast was lighter from lack of sun and tanning lamp, but her areola was dark. "Did you enjoy yours?" "It's marvelous - no better way to relax. Are you sure you're well, Fran? Maybe the weather is making you sick." Elena had re-applied her dark eye shadow and glossy red lipstick. "Would you check and see if I have a fever?" I was indeed flushed, but not from any stormy weather. Elena felt my forehead and face. "You are warm. I wish Hector were here so he could see you. At least I could trust you would not make love with him." She was wrong but it was no time to bring up another of my sexual misadventures and mistakes. "With a caring wife like you he shouldn't have to go somewhere else," I said, gently placing my hand on her back and starting a subtle rub. "I can say what I feel since we're alone. I'm tired of how open he is about his women. I have failed at having a husband and a child." Elena faced the floor as I massaged deeper into her beefy back and slid my hands lower. Heaven help me I began to enjoy it... "You are a good and beautiful woman. Hector doesn't appreciate what a treasure he has." My hands were on her lower back and were nearing the towel monogrammed with the country club logo. "He will not touch me anymore." My hands had collected enough oil from Elena's back that I could work smoothly. I glanced behind the curtain. Toni had her eyes shut and her hand was stuck into her shorts. It was stroking. "He is a foolish man." Gingerly I massaged onto Elena's ass and pushed the towel down her backside. "I have gotten to where I don't care." "Then forget about him, at least for now," I said softly. The towel lay across her thighs, and the deep crack of her ass was exposed. I worked the oil into her cheeks and opened them to catch glimpses of her asshole. "You are my good friend..." I reached for the oil in the bottle warmer. I squirted some on Elena's rear and massaged buttocks and thighs. "Roll over now and close your eyes. Think of a place you love, a beautiful place." Elena rolled onto her back and shut her eyes after a drowsy glance down at me. I drizzled a dollop of oil between her breasts . I spread the oil under her chin and rubbed her shoulders. Working down, I used my soft hands (no gardener I) to radiate out from her breastbone in larger circles until her nipples were under my probing fingers. "These places Gertrude doesn't massage." Yet she didn't stop me. I reached for the bottle and ran a string of oil from under her breasts to her belly button, which I filled. It probably held a thimble full. I glided my hands over her abdomen and pelvis. Then I bent her legs and placed her feet on the crisp white sheet. The section of the padded table at this end was hinged, so I unlocked it and folded it down. I looked up as I worked on the table and saw that Antonia was gone. I was relieved. Now I could stop. "Do you think I'm fat?" The question drew back my attention. "No, Elena." I caressed her belly and hips. A wispy line led from her belly button to her pubic hair. I dribbled a few more oil drops and rubbed just above her kinky fuzz. Her pussy lips were darkly pigmented; I brushed the inside of her thighs and spread them apart. Her clitoris was big. Without really thinking I used my oily fingers to massage her. Firm. "Faster, Fran." I felt warm again - to be wanted and to want. I knelt at the foot of the massage table and fingered her. Her ass and legs tensed. She was open to me and I licked her. I wanted Elena to come as she never had and I let my long shackled imagination free to play where it desired. Elena slid her cunt full into my face and at last my tongue could reach the orifice I had glimpsed while handling her ass. As I tickled at her asshole she juiced in orgasm. Elena didn't speak, cry out or gasp - just a drawn out hum punctuated by leaps up the scale. I knelt exhausted on the floor. Elena got off the table and wrapped a towel around her waist. She came over to me and put her hands on each side of my face. "How did you know about me?" she asked. I couldn't say anything. "I want to be your lover. I have for a long, long time. It started when you helped me with my English - so many years ago." "Elena..." I started. "Shhhh. We won't talk now. I'll call you." I rose and left the room. The window at the end of the hall brightened as the sun broke through the clouds.