Since I was working in the Tucson, Arizona area, I decided that I would visit my cousin, Jason, whom I had not seen since we graduated from college. I found him on Facebook; he was living in Phoenix. Soon we were on the phone catching up. During the conversation he said that he had an extra ticket to an LPGA Golf tournament, the JBTC Founders Cup, and invited me to accompany him the next day, which I did.
We met for breakfast on the grounds and I was impressed that he was recognized in the clubhouse by apparently several of the female golfers. Not being familiar with the LPGA, I did not recognize any of them, but he said the winner’s purse was $1,500,000, so some of the top women players were competing.
Over coffee, I asked how he managed to score tickets for the tournament and he openly bragged that he was a part-time golf gigolo. I laughed heartily because Jason had never been known in college to be much of a ladies’ man. But he seriously explained that he had met someone “on the inside” who had told him about some of the things that occur during tournaments.
“In many sports,” he said, “Men refrain from having sex during heavy competitions to save their strength and drive, but some women turn to other women for sex if they don’t have male partners. But I learned that there are female golfers who prefer to have sex during their tournaments to stay relaxed. It gives them better focus on their game.”
“Jason, you can’t convince me that women golfers pay you for sex,” I stated firmly.
“No, they don’t, because that’s not how it works,” he said defensively, “First of all, we both know that I’m not great looking and I have an average body, but the women golfers who use gigolos for sex only want the sex and the release; looks aren’t important to them. There’s no romance involved, and they prefer not to be recognized so there is no risk of publicity.”
“If they don’t want to be recognized, then how do you hook up with them?” I asked.
“It’s simple,” he explained excitedly, “One of the golf coordinators always handles much of the activities for the golfers, tournament dinners, presentations, etcetera. On the side she sets up private liaisons for those women who need company. They don’t want to know you, even your name; it’s all very business-like.”
“Are these old women, fat and ugly, or what?” I asked, still intrigued.
“Some are pretty, some are plain, but most are in their 30’s with average looks and bodies,” he claimed.
“But you don’t get paid for fucking them?” I pushed.
“No, but I get all the perks that they do at the tournament,” he stated proudly, “And a badge that gives me free access to the tournament and social activities. Plus the sex, of course!”
“Damn! That’s not bad for a part-time hobby,” I said with envy.
“Would you like to get fixed up with one tonight; I know it can be arranged?” he teased.
“Really? Hell, yeah, I’d love that! How do you know that you could arrange it?” I gulped.
“Well, I can’t arrange it myself,” he said confidently, ”but I know there are two golfers who want a ‘companion’ tonight and they would never agree to a threesome, so I’m sure I can get you set up.”
“Make it so, Jason, I’m all for it!” I gushed.
********** ********* **********
Later that evening I showed up at the hospitality tent and found Jason at the bar. We sat patiently having a drink until a young woman approached us. When she recognized Jason, he introduced me to her. After a few minutes of small talk she gave us each a slip of paper.
Jason knew what to do but she looked at me and gave me brief instructions; “Go to the room number and knock and she will let you in. Don’t ask her name, don’t snoop in her belongings and don’t tell her your real name; even if she asks, she doesn’t want to know. Don’t try to impress her or seduce her; she will let you know what she wants and needs. If she has no complaints tomorrow, you might be asked again for her or another golfer.”
I was as excited as a schoolboy anticipating his first piece of ass when I knocked on the door. It was opened immediately by a tall woman, probably in her late 30’s, with long dark hair. She had an attractive well-tanned face and a smile that showed beautiful teeth. She wore a white terrycloth robe tied at the waist and she was barefoot.
She invited me in and offered me a drink as though we were old friends. We sat at opposite ends of a plush sofa and she asked my profession and why I was at the tournament. I told her the truth about my job but limited my reason for coming to the tournament.
I told her I was given a ticket by someone who worked there.
She asked if I was an LPGA fan and I told her truthfully that I rarely watched golf and only knew of three or four male golfers and none of the females. My reply drew a satisfied smile on her face and she set her drink down and leaned forward, looking at me with warm eyes.
“I have a husband who treats me well and performs well sexually,” she said confidentially, “that is, when we can get together for any length of time. When we do, it’s usually between tournaments and our lovemaking is hard and fast.”
Then she continued, “What I need during a tournament is someone who will give me unconditional sex, to focus on my pleasure and my needs only. It relaxes me and gives me confidence when I can take control from the bedroom onto the golf course the next morning. Does that make sense to you?”
“Yes, ma’am, and I’m here as an adventure, sort of a new experience,” I said honestly, “so I’ll do whatever you need me to do, with no strings attached. I have no expectations from other than to get a good report for my attendance.”
She flashed a broad smile and stood up, untying the robe. She opened it up and slid it off her shoulders and stood before me naked. She was rather flat chested but her abs were as flat and firm as a young girl. She had wide hips and firm looking thighs. Her pubic mound protruded with a heavy dark bush, her labia hidden.
She reached for my hand and led me to the bedroom. “Lie on the bed for me,” she said softly. She never asked me to disrobe in any way, so I was wondering if I would get to fuck her. She must have read the confusion on my face.
“I like oral sex and lots of it, so please take your time,” she explained. “Tease me; don’t go for the gold quickly as most men do. When I come, and I will, don’t stop unless I tell you; I like multiple orgasms.”
I didn’t think she required an answer so I remained quiet as she dropped to her hands and knees straddling my hips. She crawled up over my body and when she was poised above my head she grabbed the headboard and separated her knees with my head. She slid forward carefully until my nose was nestled in her folds.
She had a warm womanly scent that made my cock stir. I extended my tongue but she stopped me. “Not yet; just lie still,” she said.
For a long time she rubbed herself across my nose and lips. The temptation to lick her was immeasurable and my cock was at full mast, straining in my pants. Finally she used my nose to part her labia and her wetness practically filled my nostrils as she fucked my nose. I was beginning to struggle for breath, when she settled over my mouth.
“Put your tongue in; I want to feel you lapping and fucking me with it,” she said with a sultry voice.
I obliged her for what seemed like at least thirty minutes, and I hoped that she was deriving much pleasure from it. Then she sat on my chest, and nearly pushed the breath from my lungs. She slipped her hands under my head and held me against her pussy.
“Lick me now; slowly, very slowly,” she whispered lustfully.
It was all I could do to refrain from grabbing her hips and sucking on her. My cock had seeped enough precum to soak a big wet spot in the front of my pants. I was hoping that she might somehow consider reciprocating the pleasure I was trying to give her.
I ran the flat of my tongue up across her clit for what seemed like a thousand times and she finally came, squeezing her thighs tightly against my face. I almost creamed myself. But remembering her instructions, I did not stop, and as she had indicated, she in fact seemed to continue to have another orgasm.
She released my head and grabbed the headboard again.
“Put your tongue out a little and hold still,” she rasped.
She resumed riding my face, rubbing across my nose, mouth and chin, slowly at first and then faster. When she pressed her weight down hard as she came again she almost smothered me. I held my breath and luckily she soon rolled off of me and flopped down beside my body.
I lay on my side watching her smile grow wider as her orgasms subsided. The smell of her sex permeated my lungs and my brain. To my surprise and utter dismay she rose, climbed off the bed and returned to the living room. I followed her with the tent in my pants very obvious.
She put the robe back on and, walking to the door, held it open for me. As I stepped to the threshold she kissed me on the cheek.
“Thank you; I hope to see you again, and you don’t have to worry about a good report,” she said, her face beaming.
I made it a point not to watch the tournament the next day in case I had another opportunity for a liaison with her.
