The Proper Grip

by BC

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Teenagers, Slut Wife, First, Size, .

Desc: Sex Story: When a heartbroken young golfer is asked to quickly teach a businesswoman and her cheerleader daughter the first fundamental of the game, but they don't have any clubs, what will he use?

"Oh fuck, I'm late!"

Speaking quickly into her cell phone, 41-year old Natalie Franklin grinds her white high heel harder down on the accelerator of the BMW. On the other end of the line, a very girlish laugh is heard.

"What are you giggling at, Tracy?"

"It's just funny," she vaguely announces in a very soft voice.

"What?" demands Natalie, already frustrated.

"Hearing you say the F word. You never used to say it before."

In fact, Natalie looks like about the last person in the world who would say it. Appearing very business like and professional, she's a little embarrassed, but then remembers that Tracy swears all the time, and checks her watch again.

"Crystal better be at the course already," warns Natalie. "This is the pro's last lesson of the day. He might leave if neither of us show up on time. We've already canceled twice. I don't know what Jim would do if we missed this one. He's even going to quiz us tonight about the first lesson, and he said we better know 'em all. That meeting would just never end!"

"Why does he want you two to golf so badly?" wonders Tracy.

"Oh, I don't know," says Natalie, exasperated. "He met this golf pro last month at a football game, and the guy convinced him to take it up. Jim always thought golf was for sissies, but I guess since this guy was at a football game, he thought it must be manly enough. And now he loves it, and won't stop talking about it."

"Right, so why does he want you and Crystal to golf so badly?" repeats Tracy, still confused.

"He's convinced it will be good for us, and that golf," chuckles Natalie, "will somehow magically make our lives complete or some shit like that."

Tracy's girlish giggles start up again.

"What?" asks Natalie, who then realizes. "Hey, I'm allowed to say 'shit, ' all right? And 'fuck.' Shit, shit, shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Hey!" fights back Tracy, struggling to contain her laughter. "I was just laughing about golf completing people's lives, not you!"

"Sure you were. Hey, could you hold on a minute? I'm coming up to a red light, and I'm gonna have to change on the way to give myself any chance, just in case Crystal's still at cheerleading practice and isn't holding him there."

"Changing in the car now, Natalie?" says Tracy, amazed. "You're like a whole new person."

Not having time to worry about that, although she wishes she did, Natalie just repeats "hold on a minute," slows to a stop at the light, tosses the phone on the passenger seat, and starts peeling off her clothes.

Starting with her silky black chemise, she hurriedly untucks it from within her knee length white skirt, reaches behind her head with both hands and pulls it up and off by the collar, finding no resistance from her short, but cute blonde hair. Revealing no bra, she suddenly remembers she's in public, and takes a fast look around while clutching her bare breasts in her hands. No cars on either side, she sees, but one behind her, which honks twice as Natalie reaches for her new golf shirt. "Oh fuck," she whispers, and steps on the gas at the waiting green light.

Putting her left hand on the wheel, she carefully conceals both breasts with her right arm and starts talking to herself. "Did I just say 'fuck' again? I've gotta stop doing that. And what does she mean I'm 'like a whole new person'?" And with that, she puts her right hand on the wheel also and briefly glances down at her nude breasts. "My tits are as firm as they were twenty years ago. I'd like to hear Tracy say that with a straight face." Although not large, they were as perky a pair as a woman over 40 could hope for, with no tan lines to speak of.

She checks the time again and sighs, half hoping for a red light so she can put on her shirt, half hoping for green so she can get there quicker.

Meanwhile at the golf course, 18-year old Robert Jones crushes a drive, which bangs high off the driving range fence, over 250 yards away.

"You still haven't gotten one over?" asks Mike, the golf pro, wiping the smile off of the young man's face, who just shakes his head.

"Like you could," he says under his breath once the pro's out of earshot.

"Hey, I'm locking up," the pro announces. "Looks like they're not gonna show. Too bad, too -- Jim's daughter is a knock out. He showed me a picture of her in her little cheerleader's uniform. His wife's not bad, either."

Robert half smiles, glad they won't have to deal with the sexual harassment Mike inflicts on all his good looking female students.

"Hey, that's not your driver," the pro says accusingly. "You didn't even bring your clubs tonight. Shit, Robert, I told you you can't just take clubs from the pro shop anymore. Those are for customers to try out. Now don't do it again, unless you plan on buying it."

"I might."

"Yeah, right," laughs the pro. "That's worth three hundred bucks. Shit, you could have chipped it. Now hand it over."

"I didn't chip --"

"Fine, fine," interrupts the pro as he takes the club. "Go get all the range buckets. Carlos better be back tomorrow. Home sick, my ass. I'm locking up. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Asshole," breathes Robert, who picks up his watch from the bench -- "damn!" -- and starts running down the long range.

Still driving topless, Natalie picks up the phone with a stunned look on her face. "Tracy? Are you still there? Tracy? Tracy!"

"I'm here," she says after a small wait.

"You would not believe what just happened!" exclaims Natalie. "I finally got to a red light so I can put my shirt on, and then this asshole in the car next to me whistles, and when I look over he gives me a thumbs up and he's sitting there with his, you know, with his thing out! And he's, you know, he's..."

"Jacking off?"

"Yes!" screams Natalie, stunned at how calmly her friend is taking this. "Can you believe that?!"

"You know, it's funny," starts Tracy.

"What is?!"

"For someone who says the F word so often, you get all tongue tied talking about 'his thing' and can't even say 'jacking off.'"

"Well I'm in shock, all right?" says Natalie, defending herself. "And I don't say the F word that often!"

After a longer than normal pause, Natalie hears Tracy moan slightly. "Tracy? Are you OK?"

"Wonderful," she groans.

"You don't sound wonderful," states Natalie, starting to get worried.

"How big was he?"

"What?" asks Natalie, confused.

"How big was the guy's thing?"


"What?" asks a giggling Tracy in her little girl voice.

"I don't know how big, OK?" says Natalie, starting to smile.

"Bigger than Jim's?"

"Tracy! I'm not going to answer that," she says definitively. "And why are you sounding like that?"

"How big was what guy's thing?" asks a muffled, and decidedly male voice on the other end of the line.

"Who said that?" questions Natalie, very surprised. "Was that Bill?"

"Of course it's... Bill," grunts Tracy.

Natalie quickly pulls her white golf shirt on at the next red light, thankful that the pervert turned a couple blocks back.

"What are you two doing?"

"Well we're fucking of course," moans Tracy, with emphasis on "fuck." "Your favorite word."

"Oh my god!" gasps Natalie. "I can't believe you're doing that while talking to me!"

"Well it's your fault, you know."

"My fault?" asks Natalie, very confused, as she feels her hard nipples poking through her new shirt, after being exposed to the cool night air. "How?"

"You made fun of my sagging tits."

"You heard that? I'm sorry, Tracy. I didn't realize I was talking that loud," Natalie says, wondering who else might have heard her. "But wait, how does that make it my fault that you're having sex?"

"Well I was a little hurt by that, and I thought, 'well at least mine are double ds, ' and I took off my shirt and called Bill into the kitchen --"

"You're doing it in the kitchen?" asks Natalie, still stunned by all this.

"And I guess he was surprised to see me without my top, and maybe noticed that I looked a little sad, and he asked me what's wrong," Tracy says, distinctly sounding like she's bouncing. "I asked him if he still liked my boobs, and he walked over to where I was sitting and said 'what do you think?' as he put my hand on his crotch and I could already feel him getting hard..."

Wide eyed, Natalie doesn't bother to change the rest of her clothes at the next red light -- too enthralled by the story.

"So while still holding the phone against my ear, I pulled down his shorts with my left hand, and I bent over and took his entire cock into my mouth..."

Natalie's chin drops.

"I love feeling him get hard inside me, especially in my mouth, so I just stared up at him and didn't move, feeling him grow..."

She licks her lips.

"After his head eased down my throat, I started sucking him in long, full strokes, never taking my eyes off his..."

Starts squirming around in her leather car seat.

"Then I heard your voice in my ear and I almost choked. I totally forgot I was on the phone. But then when you started calling my name... I got really wet, and I just kept sucking him until I had to answer just so you wouldn't hang up..."

Natalie can't believe this, and doesn't know how to react.

"But when I took my lips off his cock to talk, Bill up and left! I was so mad at you. But your voice was so sexy, and when you started talking about that guy jacking off while watching you, I jammed my hand down my panties and just attacked my clit... Are you still there? Natalie? Natalie?"

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Teenagers / Slut Wife / First / Size /