Chapter 1

MY PERSONAL DISCOVERY

Hey, my name is John Masters Jr. (B:01/10/93)

I have a story to tell!

My Dad took me out and taught me how to play golf when I was only seven-years-old. I was, and still am, very left-handed. It was my father, John Masters Sr. (B:03/14/61), who insisted I play golf right-handed. He got me a set of those shorter clubs for kids to learn to play with. He even told me that left-handed clubs’ cost four times as much, which I believed at the time.

Between playing golf every chance, I could get, watching TV with my dad, and his very large Golf Digest Magazine collection (Going back to 1974), I became pretty good.

My six-year-old sister Corrine (B:11/10/93), I call her Cory, caught the bug as well, but I knew that she wouldn’t get a set of her own clubs, so I asked her if she would like to be my caddy. She broke into a big smile saying, “Sure thing, Bro!”

So now we would get dropped off together, and using my families club membership (at the Pahrump Country Club in Nevada) and Dad’s credit card, we would play all we could. Sometimes 36 holes in a single day. She was amazing, keeping track of my club distances and she has a much better eye at finding just the right break to my putts.

With a modicum of talent on my part and her math skills and record keeping, I went from a 33 handicap to a 5 ... by the time I was 11 years old. That was also when I graduated from the ‘dinky clubs,’ to the standard sized.

Another year later (2005) and I was a scratch golfer getting stronger and becoming something of a long (and straight) driver of the golf ball.

Cory had grown up as well, from being cute to becoming pretty, and she was also excellent at helping me read putts. Anything longer than a four-foot-long putt, she read for me.

Nobody my age wanted to play me anymore, so I talked my way into every threesome needing a fourth I could find, even folks my parents age. I quickly got the reputation of being a good partner, and another couple of years passed by.

Due to making some deals with Mom and Dad, and working hard, I started high school at fourteen years old (2007). Of course, I went out for the school golf team, where the coach didn’t allow caddies. I had to carry my own clubs and read my own greens.

They did allow Cory (now 13) to follow and watch. We had developed hand signals. Cory and I had predetermined that to make the Varsity team I had to break 85 on a course that was a par 73. She mentioned I shouldn’t show up the seniors too bad, so I shot an 83, which got me on the team.

Cory ran up to me and gave me a big hug, including a smack on the cheek. She gladly picked up my clubs. We got in the school van and went back to the school. She got the OK from Mom and Dad and her school, to go with me as needed. She was so smart, she was way ahead in all her classes.

Several of the guys on the team were looking at her like wolves preparing for their next feast.

Descriptions are now in order...

I am 5ft10, light brown hair, blue eyes; Cory is 5ft5, darker brown hair and dazzling blue eyes.

I don’t know her measurements, but she’s already got tits, along with a cute butt.

She leaned into me on the trip back to the school and quietly asked, “When are you going to show them how good you really are, Johnny?”

“At the first tournament, Sis. There are twelve guys on the team (6 on Varsity - 6 on JV), and I am rated number sixth (on Varsity) because of my score today. Now, I must play somebody rated higher than me to secure a spot-on Varsity. Being a Freshman works against me,” I explained.

“When can I be your caddy again? I really missed you today?” she asked curling her lip.

“I don’t know, hopefully soon!” I replied. “Coach?”

“Yeah, John!” Mr. Rockway responded.

“My sister is used to be my caddy!” The other boys all laughed. “I am a lot better when she is able to be my caddy, I can prove it anytime to anybody. All I need is for you to let me.”

“Calm down, everybody!” coach said to the guys who were making too much noise. “Let me check the school rules first ... I will let you know if she can be on the bag for you or not. If you want to prove yourself, challenge anyone ranked above you, and I will schedule it, OK?”

“Thanks, Coach,” I said.

“Thanks Coach,” Cory parroted, ending it with a giggle.

“Mark Rains, Number Three,” I said, “I challenge you ASAP, straight up with no shots!” Cory gripped my hand. I gripped back.

Mark turned around in his seat, “John ... you have got yourself a match, and bring your sister along. You will need every bit of help you can get!”

“Coach?” I said in his direction.

“Does anybody need to get home anytime soon? Good!”

He turned around, screeching the tires, and headed back to the golf course we just left.

“Mark ... Stroke or Match Play?”

“Match play, John!”

“Championship Tees?”

“Sure John ... whatever you want?”

He sounded so sure of himself!

We got back, and Cory was grinning big, as we went to the Golf Shop to ask to play again. She cleaned all my clubs. I bought a new 3pak of Titleist balls, and some tees, handing them to my sister.

Hole #1 - Par-5 - 544 yards

I bogeyed it the first time through. Mark being ranked higher had honors. He hit it well although it rolled into the first cut of left-side rough.

The team all gave him a big yell.

Cory handed me my two-wood ... I aimed over the trap to shorten the distance to the green. A mighty swing and it sailed 40 yards over the trap, nearly 300 yards.

Mark looked at me, smiled, “So, you’ve been holding out on us?”

“Lucky shot,” I said lying through my teeth.

We all got to Mark’s ball, and he would have to use a four-wood or maybe even a one-iron. After studying it, he took his four-wood and laced it about 25 yards short of the green ... again the team went bonkers for his shot.

We walked about 50 yards closer as I had about 230 yards to the green. It went further than I had expected.

“Cory, what do you think?”

“Johnny, you can easily rip a two-iron, and it should roll up, pin high,” she said.

“Yeah...” coach said, “A two-iron ... from 240 yards!”

This was my big chance ... I took a couple of practice swings, addressed the ball, and stroked it landing it pin high, 15 feet left of the pin.

“Holy Shit!” coach said. “Where was that shot four hours ago, Johnny?”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, so I sort of ... held back, Coach. I also have my caddy with me now. She helps my game considerably.”

We all walked up to Mark’s ball. It had rolled into a divot. He got out a sand wedge, expecting it to go straight up and land soft. He hit a very good shot leaving it 30 feet past the pin.

Cory got behind me and helped me look at the putt, while Mark was getting ready for his birdie putt. He hit it and it wasn’t hard enough. There’s an old adage in golf, ‘Never Up ... Never In.’ He made his par putt, and I lined up my eagle putt and put it in the bottom of the cup.

“One Up, after One Hole,” said my sister, “Nice putt, Bro!”

Coach walked alongside as we all walked to the next tee. “Mister Masters, have you played this course before today?”

“No, Sir ... I have been playing exclusively at Riverside Country Club, but I have had my younger sister helping me since I was seven years old.”

“That’s a long course, what’s your best score there?”

Should I tell him, or not? I looked at Cory and said, “72, Sir!”

“How many times?”

Cory answered, “Seventeen!”

“Mark, I believe you have got no chance in hell, but if you want to keep playing, it’s your call?” Coach remarked.

“Yeah, Coach ... I think you’re right, but let’s play through number four ... that puts us back at the clubhouse,” Mark said coming over and shaking my hand, “Between your natural ability and your sister, we may just win the Valley Championship this year. Coach put her on the team, then she can be anybody’s caddy!”

“I am only going to be my brother’s caddy!” Cory said rather possessively.

“OK!” Mark said.

Forty minutes later, I had beaten him four-up, by six total strokes. Everyone got in the van again heading back to school.

As we pulled up to the school parking lot, I said, “Mitchell Strong, Number One ... I challenge you ASAP, straight up with no shots!”

The van burst with laughter, as Mitchell quietly said, “Sure thing, Johnny!”

Three days later, at Riverside along with the whole team, along with Mom and Dad and some of our club members, Mitchell Strong and I started a round of golf to determine who would be the top seeded player on the team.

Dad walked over to me and quietly said, “You know this course better than most, so take it to him ... No Mercy!”

Cory came over and asked, “Did Dad give you his old ‘No Mercy’ speech again? He needs new material.”

Riverside, as Coach mentioned, is a nice course ... at close to 7,100 yards when playing the Championship Tees. Deferring to Mitchell, who is a Senior ... he went first.

Hole #1 - Par-4 - 408 yards

The hole is nearly dead straight, and he hit it about 250 to 260 yards out.

Cory handed me the driver. I took a ball and tee from her and took some practice swings and hit it right on the screws. My adrenaline added 30 yards to my usual drive. The crowd made some noise, as Dad said, “That’s my boy!” causing the crowd to chuckle as we all started walking to the next shot.

Both Mitchell and I put our second shots on the green. He was about 10 feet away, and my approach shot rolled about 40 feet past the hole.

Cory was always careful to watch how the ball is rolling ... its relative speed. We got to the ball and looked it over together, with her giving me the spot to aim as she held the pin. After a practice stroke, I hit a roller, and she pulled out the pin as it was almost going too fast, but it dropped for the birdie.

The crowd gave an appreciative applause.

Mitchell stood over his putt, missing it because he had seen more break than there was.

After the second hole, we were dead even again.

Hole #3 - Par-5 - 517 yards

After two shots each, he had a middle iron to the green, I was putting for an eagle.

His approach, barely got on the green, I marked my putt, tossing the ball to my sister.

He struggled to get his par, while I stroked my putt in for an eagle.

Hole #4 - Par-3 - 190 yards

With the honors, I put it in the middle of the green, my opponent was on and short. We both had birdies. I was three shots up on him.

Hole #5 - Par-4 - 464 yards

Straight hole, I made par, losing a shot of my lead.

Hole #6 - Par-4 - 451 yards

I hit my shot to the left, being in the rough for the first time.

“Johnny, what’s wrong?” Cory asked quietly as we walked to the next tee.

“I don’t know, I’ve lost focus, I think?” I said.

“You’re only 14 years old, what makes you happy?”

I caught myself looking at her face, and despite her being only ten months younger, I easily answered, “You do, your pretty face makes me happy, Corrinne.”

She broke into the biggest smile, then I got myself together, aimed at the trees to the right of the trap and swung comfortably, with it bouncing on the green once and rolled into the cup.

Cory’s hand was up to give me a high five, and it was one of the seminal moments in my young life.

Hole #18 - Par-4 - 477 yards

After getting the honors back on the 17^th green, after making a putt of nearly 35 feet, we had a hole to play, and I was a par from my best round ever.

“John,” Mitchell said, “I am going to enjoy playing golf with you as my team leader, then I may just let myself get fat and watch you beat everyone you play against.”

“I am not playing against you, I am trying to beat the golf course, Mitchell.”

I took my honors, and stroked my tee shot right about 300 yards out.

“That’s my Johnny!” I heard Dad proudly announce to the chuckles of the rest of the crowd.

After the round was over, having shot a 65, Coach J asked, “May I keep this ball and display it ion the wall of my office?”

“Certainly, Sir,” I responded as Mom and Dad walked to us.

“I am so proud of you,” my mother Julia Masters-Fleming (B:04/11/69) said, leaning over and giving me a kiss on the cheek.

Dad gave me a very firm handshake, then I gave my little sister a kiss on the cheek, to which she first blushed, then pushed at me.

With permission from her school, we became inseparable on the golf course, winning every match we had all through high school.

Four years of winning our Valley Championship, and me personally winning the Player of the Year trophy, got me a Full Scholarship into UNLV. That also got me a car, a Toyota Corolla, and I moved there right after graduating from high school but was rather uncomfortable for a while and couldn’t figure out why ... no Cory!

Its 2011, late May!

I called from my new iPhone.

“Masters’ residence, this is Corrine.”

“Can I speak to the world’s best caddy and my pretty sister, Cory Masters?”

I heard her attitude pick up, even over the phone, “JM, I miss you so much!”

“Well, then visit me for the summer, I got a nice place, with a second bedroom. Pack a bag ... I need to see you. There is something we need to talk about, OK?”

“Sure, what is it ... Am I in trouble?”

“No, I just miss my sexy sister?”

“I will see you in two hours, is that soon enough, JM?”

“Wonderful, see you then.”

Do I have the guts to tell her that I am in love with her?

After hanging up and calling Dad at work to tell him what I had arranged, he approved, hoping that Cory might get motivated to go to college after all.

I’d given her the address, and she found me with no problem, using her phone that had a built-in GPS.

She’s just 18 ... I am not yet 19. We’re exactly ten months apart in age, to the day. Due to her great grades, Dad got her a previously used Honda Accord, which is what she drove to UNLV housing, parking on the street.

She pulled up, honked and I came out to see her, giving her a great big hug, while she added a kiss at the end. I reached in and got her bags and walked her to the front door of my place.

My place ... I say that like it’s a bachelor pad of some kind. They do treat the athletes on the sports teams pretty well.

As we get to the door, one of the guys on the Golf Squad came up and said, “Hey John, practice later ... who’s the doll?”

This guy is Rich Baker, the team captain and he thinks he is god’s gift to women.

“Hey, Rich, this is Corrine, my girl from home. She’s also the best caddy that ever lived,” I said dropping her bags and putting my arm around her waist, which caused her to giggle. I needed to protect her from this hound and the rest of the golf team.

“Wow, nice to meet you, Corrine, the newbie has got a girlfriend ... and she’s HOT. Hey John, if you can’t make the practice today, I understand!” he said, not being terribly subtle.

“Well, she just got here, so maybe tomorrow instead?” I asked holding her even tighter as I saw him driving off.

“Quick thinking, JM,” she said, “I get to be your girlfriend while I am here.” There was a great big grin on her face.

I picked up her stuff, and we walked into the apartment together. I took her things to the second bedroom as she followed me in.

“Shouldn’t I move into your bedroom, for when any of your guys show up?” she said with a straight face.

I put her stuff down, took her hand and walked her to the sofa.

“I need to talk to you about something very important. I hope it won’t be as big a shock for you as it was for me when I came to the realization. I Love You, Corrine!”

Her face went funny, kind of a cross between surprise and confusion. “I love you, JM,” she responded.

“I don’t think you understand me, Cory. I am in love with you, romantically.”

The look on her face went from confusion to wonder. She leaned forward and gave me a very soft and lightly erotic kiss on the lips.

“That kind of love, with lips and hands, on each other’s bodies?”

“Exactly, I hope it doesn’t weird you out too much?”

“Oh Johnny, I have been waiting for this for a couple of years now. You have gotten so muscular and tall, and I have been hoping against hope that you might recognize that I feel the same way you do. This summer, pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend can be, a kind of test, to see if we’re compatible for one another. If not, I guess we can have a loud and nasty breakup, and I will go home, Deal?” she said putting out her hand to shake mine.

“Uh-uh, this is NOT a handshake deal,” I insisted, standing, and pulling her tight against me.

I took her face in my hands and pulled her in and started a kiss. She wasn’t hesitant in the slightest and opened her mouth, as our kiss became an event with tongues. I didn’t know she knew how to kiss at all, so I was surprised a little, but she put her body up against mine and our ‘event’ became a blockbuster moment.

“Just a second,” I said going over and locking the front door and turning off the light. I came back to her and picked her up and walked us to my bedroom.

In my arms, Cory said, “I am terribly nervous JM, can we please take it slow, maybe only be in our underwear at the same time in your bed? We do have all summer, don’t we?”

“My beautiful sister Corrine, I don’t want to do anything before you are ready. I like your plan, nice and easy,” I said placing her ever so gently on my bed.

I saw her start to undress herself and suddenly realized, how gorgeous this young lady is, just barely 18 and a virgin ... I am older and still a virgin. Whenever ‘it’ happens ... today, tomorrow, or next week, I want it to be so special for the both of us.

I am taking a minimum load of coursework, like most of the athletes do at UNLV and other sports laden colleges and universities across the USA.

UNLV is barely a mile and a half east of the Las Vegas Strip, away from more than a few distractions. Being underage from drinking and all forms of illegal gambling help with staying focused on golf and a few classes.

In my orientation class, I found out the school started as the southern regional extension of UNR, the University of Nevada Reno. In 1955, it got its first funding, to build Frazier Hall.

A year later 640 acres were purchased with plans of becoming an enormous campus. The first commencement ceremonies were held in 1964. In 1969 the Board of Regents approved the name change, forever shortened even further to UNLV!

With the help of our Golf Team Coach, I was not only taking a minimum class load, but also full of required classes to avoid making any long-term school goals other than the possibility of getting my BA in something like Business. Dad emailed me some ideas for picking a few classes for my sister to take ad hoc.

Coming out of high school, I had a 3.8GPA, but Cory was a 4.06, getting better math grades than I did.

I woke up from our first nap in the same bed since we had been 8 and 7. Back then, once she became my full time caddy, we would start the evening in separate beds, but she would climb in to discuss golf, and what we wanted to be when we grew up.

She was only 7 when she first said she thought I might become a pro golfer.

Pahrump is in Nye County, and grew as real estate speculation around Las Vegas had. The high school we both went to had been built in 1974.

Believe it or not, there are still two legal brothels in Pahrump, Sheri’s Ranch and the more well-known Chicken Ranch.

Dad had been an extra in the movie MARS ATTACKS, which was filmed in 2006 as where the Martians first landed. He didn’t make much money from it, but he has been telling the story to anyone who wants to hear it.

Mom found us asleep in my bed more than once, but we explained we fell asleep talking about golf. At the time I hadn’t realized what she was worried about.

With us both now at UNLV, our mother Julia became a part time Realtor at Dads Century 21 office again. They both were tops in their field, Julia in Residential and John Sr. in Raw Land and Commercial.

Before falling back to sleep I noticed the covers had slipped and I saw Cory’s breasts, in a white translucent brassiere. After gaping at her, I pulled her covers up and turned the other direction sleeping until my phones’ alarm went off at 8am. Her right arm was on my hip, which felt nice.

“Time to get up, sleepyhead,” I said to her. Her eyes fluttered open, after which her whole countenance changed.

“That was the best nights’ sleep I had since the last time we were in bed together.”

She broke into a blush and a very pretty smile.

“We have golf practice in 90 minutes, you can take first shower,” I said. Before she rolled away, I gave her a kiss.

She stopped by her suitcase, grabbed a change of clothes, and walked into the bathroom.

“Save some hot water for me,” I said just as she closed the door.

Taking my car I turned to ask her, “What is your last name going to be, beautiful girl?”

The look on her face made me understand that she understood, followed by, “I learned from dad that if I had been a boy my name would have been Connie Mack Masters.”

“You mean like the baseball player from the ‘30s?” I said.

“So that makes me Cory Mack, is that OK with you?” She asked.

“Sounds good to me, I wonder if you shouldn’t color your hair, in case anyone we know from the Pahrump area, besides Mom and Dad, comes along?”

“What do you want me to become, blonde, brunette, or redhead?”

“Wow, I am envisioning you as each of those. Ginger is a common hair coloring these days, what about that, Beautiful Girl?”

“After practice, we can drive by a Rite Aid and you can help me pick a color, OK lover boy?”

“Sure, and be careful what we call one another, you could accidentally give me an erection today!” I said.

“Isn’t that what girlfriends are supposed to do, cause and take care of erections?”

I hoped she would pick either ginger or become an outright redhead. The one girlfriend I had in high school was Margarete McTavish, a Scottish redhead I dated for three months, but didn’t like that I spent all my spare time playing golf with a girl caddy. I never told her that she was my sister.

My equipment wasn’t the greatest or the newest, but I accomplished a great deal with my TaylorMade golf bag and clubs, Titleist Golf balls and a full-sized blade putter I had since getting it on my 13th birthday.

There is, basically two kinds of putters, blade and mallet. Both lefties and right handers use both. Dad convinced me to pick a blade head just in case I had to finish a putt right handed.

Rory McIlroy, Bubba Watson, and Adam Scott use blade putters. Henrik Stenson and Sergio Garcia are two of the many mallet-heads.

Mallets are like a completely round piece of steel cut on the diameter. Some people insist on them, although, I thought they were goofy looking!

UNLV officially plays at the private and exclusive Las Vegas National Country Club (6815 yds), although we may practice at Southern Highlands Golf Club (7510 yds) or Shadow Creek (7560 yds).

Today’s practice was at LVNCC.

Pulling up to the private gate, I announced our names, and we were let in driving among very large and expensive looking homes. We got to the vehicle entrance of the very large clubhouse, and a valet got our clubs, handing them to Cory after she explained she was my caddy.

It was a bit disheartening that three of the four young valets were minorities.