Johnny & Steven MASTERS
Chapter 4

 

Sex Story: Chapter 4 - Follow along the story of the greatest golfers ever. Johnny 'Cannon' Masters and Cory his Wife/Caddy ... Along with their children, that inxludes Steven 'Howitzer' Masters. He may be even more talented than his old man!

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Teenagers   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Celebrity   Sports   Incest   Mother   Son   Brother   Sister   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Pregnancy   Safe Sex   Tit-Fucking   Voyeurism   Big Breasts   Leg Fetish   Small Breasts  

MY BANK ACCOUNT

Cory came up to me, with only a bra and panty on, and kissed me, which I gladly returned. She sure can settle me down. I will need that skill for the next four days.

We tee off at 10:52am tomorrow, not learning whom we were playing with. I like the surprise of it!

We got dressed and found a nice place to eat, the Atlantic Room, seeing a number of my ‘new peers’ there. As we’re walking to our table, I got a bunch of back slaps and ‘atta boys’ from some of the other players.

A pretty young lady came up to us and took our orders, as I saw Adam come in, I waved him to our table. He came over along with a pretty blonde I probably should recognize, as he said, “This is Katherine Hull from the LPGA Tour. I told her about Johnny and she’s here to support me but watch you.”

I felt Cory’s hand grab mine at that instant as I said, “Lovely to meet you, Katherine ... this is Corrine, my wife...”

“ ... And his Caddy!” she added with a giggle.

“Katherine is ranked 49th, with two victories and 20 top tens,” Adam went on to say.

“Wow, all of that and beautiful too,” I said feeling Cory’s hand squeeze a little harder.

I took a moment and gave her a kiss, saying, “That’s the hand that makes the putts, dear.”

“You are the one being a putz, dear,” she said back, kissing me on the nose.

“How long have you two been married?” Katherine asked.

“That’s a stat ... I leave all of the stats to my wife.”

Cory rolled her eyes and said, “It’s been eight days, but it feels like twenty-eight,” she said looking at me and grinning.

Our waiter came up and took their order and we all talked about both tours and lots of other things as well. At the end of the meal, I put my card out and Adam pushed it back at me saying, “You can pick up the next one, JM,” as everyone got up to leave.

We got back to the room and I checked for emails, finding 63 of them, but first found and read the one from Dad.

“Dear John and Corrine,

I heard about your round of golf today, and I am proud as punch to know you handled it so well! I have set up a bank account under your name, so you can bank the money you make wherever you are. Attached are the important numbers to know.”

Love to both my son and his pretty wife, TTFN”

“NO MERCY!”

We chuckled as we read that together. I clearly recall back to the first time he had said that to me...

(I was almost 10 years old, playing seriously for about a year, and Dad had signed me up to be in the Junior Club Tournament at PCC. I was a bit younger than the others ... they were 14 and older. I didn’t even have a full set of clubs yet, but fortunately, I had gotten tall enough, so only two days before the tournament started Dad got me a complete set of full-sized right-handed clubs.

Cory, already my caddy for several years, saw that bag and figured no way she could carry it, so we got a pull cart, which she proudly stayed nearby with.

I had already been using my routine on the Practice Range, but now I had to adjust everything to these full-sized clubs.

With Cory’s help, I started hitting the ball farther, better, and straighter and was much more confident with the newer clubs. They were TaylorMade, same brand as the short ones.

My best round at that point had been a 92, so my official handicap was a 20. (92 minus (72 [typical 18-hole par] equals 20!)

Ready and confident, with my entire family there, I shot an 83, beating my opponent by 10 shots, mostly due to my handicap.

“Dad, that wasn’t entirely fair ... I just ... got better, but hadn’t posted a score to bring down my handicap yet?”

“Son let me tell you something real important, whether it is about golf, business or even love ... Life Isn’t Fair! There are times when what is in front of you is difficult to deal with. All you can do is your best. That is when you need to remember two words - “No Mercy!” Once you have them worried ... go in for the kill ... especially when it comes to golf,” he said.

He often repeated that to me, shortening it down over the years to simply ‘No Mercy.’

My next opponent, I shot an 81, again beating him pretty bad. At that point, there were four of us left, three 17-year old’s and me. I was getting used to the new clubs with each round.

In the quarterfinal match, my long irons were the key, this time shooting a 73, beating a 17-year-old without needing my strokes. I believe he was crying before the round was over.

There were two of us left, and the next day I felt great, but I think Sam was tired from all of the previous rounds. I was energized and excited!

I shot an even par 72 (net 52), my best round of golf, to his 79 ... Cory was ecstatic, and Mom and Dad were fit to be tied. That was when the idea of becoming a pro golfer first entered my mind... )

I went back to the other emails, answering as many as I could.

Cory was horny when we went to bed, but I was worried about it affecting my game somehow. She was annoyed but understood.

The next morning, I woke up refreshed and got up to check on emails. Nothing new, so I woke up my wife and we showered, making out a little, but leaving ourselves available for ... later in the day.

We got out of the room, after grabbing a couple bottles of water from the mini-fridge, taking a brisk walk to the course, where there was a butt load of press, almost as many as there were players. All around somebody was getting interviewed. A man touched my shoulder asking. “Golf Channel wants to interview you and your Caddy, how about it?”

“Give me five minutes, where will you want us?”

“Look for me after whatever it is you need to do,” he said and vanished.

There was a small trailer that said, ‘All Golfers Report Here!’ which was quite helpful. I went inside, and they asked me my name, and gave me an ‘OK to be on the Course’ sticker for my caddy and me. They also handed me an official score-sheet, with the number 54 written on the corner, meaning I was the 54th player to sign up.

After getting out of there, I gave Cory her sticker and showed her the card.

“Maybe it’s an omen, JM?”

We both had a chuckle at that, as I saw the gentleman from before. Cory said it was Peter Jacobsen!

He took us to where they had the Golf Channel desks with chairs as they sat us down, between Rich Lerner and Frank Nobilo. We both shook their hands as Rich said, “Don’t worry kids, we are only here to find out what makes you tick.”

Cory quickly retorted, “As long as you don’t expect us to tock.” Both gentlemen laughed at her quip. I asked for a quick kiss before they started, as I heard the guy behind the camera, “In 10... 9... 8... 7- 6” then using his hands he counted down from five to one ... pointing at Rich.

“Good Morning from Johns Creek, a northern suburb of Atlanta. We are at the Atlanta Athletic Club at the Highlands Course and we have the newest member of the PGA with us today, along with his caddy, who happens to be his wife. I am Rich Lerner, along with Frank Nobilo, and this is the Golf Channel ... Live from the PGA Championship!”

“Johnny Masters and his new wife, but long-time caddy Corrine are with us today. Johnny, you are just a few hours away from appearing in your very first professional golf tournament, how does it feel?”

Last night, Cory and I role-played announcer and player for over an hour, so I think we’re set.

“Mr. Lerner, it is one of the most exciting moments of my life so far, I played well yesterday, but that was yesterday. I am not sure who exactly I am teeing off with, but I plan to play my very best, and I can only do that with this pretty lady next to me.”

“Frank?”

“Johnny, finding out that you were a lefty turned by your father, what does that help you bring to the tournament today?”

“Well, Mr. Nobilo, between my strong leading shoulder, my tight grip, I am quite comfortable saying that I expect to do very well today. If you have a camera angle to watch my drive on the first tee ... I expect to drive the green!”

“Well, confidence in yourself is a good thing ... Rich?”

“We will be right back to Live from the PGA Championship in just a moment,” he said.

A cameraman said, ‘back in 2:30,’ as we’re asked to stay a bit longer, but Cory said, “My husband has a routine to stick to, maybe some other time, gentlemen?” We took off our microphones and walked to get my bag and some range balls.

“I love you, Mrs. Masters,” I said to Cory.

“I know,” she replied with a grin.

The Atlanta Athletic Club (AAC) has two championship golf courses, Highlands and Riverside. We are playing the Riverside, Par 72, 7,613 yards long.

We got alongside Sergio Garcia who sounded like he was mad at someone, but since he was talking Spanish, I tried not to let it bother me.

We set up as Rory Mcllroy turned to say, “Don’t let Sergio rattle you ... he always sounds mad.”

“Thanks, where in Ireland are you from anyway?” I asked.

“A little town called ‘Holywood’ in County Down in Northern Ireland. Whereabouts are you from?”

“Pahrump, Nevada ... a smallish town north west of Las Vegas.”

Rory turned back around, so I guess we were through talking, as I started my routine ... trying to get the nerves to settle down.

I was moving from my irons to my woods, so Cory handed me Bertha.

“Watch out, the ‘Cannon’ is here!” Adam Scott said coming up behind me.

Sergio was in the middle of his backswing and glared at Adam, who added, “Don’t let him bother you, he’s always mad at somebody.”

“I heard your declaration about getting it on the green on the first hole, Johnny. Saying those kinds of things to the press, will always backfire on you.”

I addressed my shot and swung kind of hard, as Adam said, “Then again ... maybe you are as good as you think.”

“Adam,” I said. “Do you remember your first tournament you played in?”

“Yeah, I thought I was hot shit, kid ... but I missed the cut, by 12 strokes. If it doesn’t happen for you this week, remember there’s a tournament somewhere every week.”

“Thanks, Adam!”

I saw Rory, putting his stuff away, apparently starting soon. I looked at my watch and thought we should get going as well.

I could hear in the background, “The 10:37 tee time is next on the tee, 10:52 to follow.”


I guessed Rory was in the group ahead of me as we got in the ready area. I saw Rory, Adam, Fred Couples, Steve Stricker, and Bubba Watson.

“Our 10:37 tee time starts with the winner of fifteen tournaments on the PGA Tour, including the Masters in 1992 ... Fred Couples!”

A real nice applause came out for Fred, as he took a smooth practice swung. When his back isn’t bothering him, he’s the best. He teed it up, took an easy beautiful swing at the ball and it carried right at 280-300 yards.

“Next up, winner of twelve PGA tour events, Steve Stricker!”

The master of bad luck, he came close to winning the PGA Championship in ‘98. He is just as loved as Fred, although his drive floated to the left rough.

“Our third member of this group, Rory Mcllroy ... winner of three events on the PGA Tour including the 2011 US Open.”

He’s not yet 23, but a real up and comer, and he hit a monster, but it went left as well.

Bubba turned to me and said, “You are the young man who shot the 54?”

“Yes, Mr. Watson, that was me and my caddy, now my wife.”

“Around here there are no misters, just golfers. Call me Bubba.”

“You can call me Cannon, if you would like. It’s better than the ‘54 kid’ that I was first called.”

“OK Cannon, do you care to hit first or last, any preference at all?” Bubba asked.

“Bubba, he needs to hit last, he told the Golf Channel he was putting his drive on the green,” Adam said causing the crowd to both cheer and moan a little.

“Well, Adam you might be the shortest driver of our three, so whenever you want to, go ahead,” Bubba said.

Hole 1 - 446 Yards - Par 4 - Hdcp 12
“The 10:52 tee time today, starts with Adam Scott, eight-time winner on the PGA Tour.”

Adam set up and stroked a nice shot about where Rory hit it ten minutes before.

There was a lot of applause and cheers for Adam, as Bubba started getting ready as...

“Next on the tee is Bubba Watson, winner of four PGA Events, including this year’s Masters!”

He was planning on using an iron, interesting choice. He waggled it a bit then hit it, clean sounding and it was a bit past Adam’s but stayed in the fairway.

“Last in the Tee time is the young man that broke the all-time record for 18 holes earlier this year, he shot a 54! Also, the Individual Scoring Champ at NCAA Nationals with a record breaking 251 for four rounds, Johnny Masters!”

There was a smattering of applause for me.

I got Bertha from Cory, and a ball. I teed it up then stepped back, “Are they off the green yet?” I cautiously asked.

I heard a “Yes they are” from behind. Cory came over and whispered, ‘No Mercy,’ just as I was about to address the ball. I visualized the shot, took my backswing, and absolutely nailed it. I never had a shot feel like that before. It was an amazing feeling coming over me, as I heard, “It’s on the green!”

What a roar came up from behind me, what an amazing sound of people ... watching me play this game that I love so dearly.


Finding out that it was within the rules of decorum from a PGA official, Cory and I walked together hand in hand to watch first, Adam’s then Bubba’s approach shots.

Today’s putt was going to be from a different direction from yesterday’s practice round. Both guys finished, getting their Par-Four’s, as Cory looked over my shoulder and quietly said, “Aim three inches to the right of the outside right edge ... it’s all about the speed.”

She left the green, since the pin was out, I visualized the putt as she saw it, and stroked it.

It died just as it rimmed the inside edge, dropping for an eagle. The crowd roared as I went to get my ball. Cory picked up and put in the flag as we walked to the next tee.

I’d noticed that there was a young man carrying one of those boards that shows the scores of the players in the threesome. He just raised it back up to show,

Scott EVEN
Watson EVEN
Masters 2 UNDER

I nudged Cory, she saw it and giggled as we walked to the next tee ... this time I had honors!

Hole 2 - 543 Yards - Par 5 - Hdcp 3
Since my heart and lungs are now in my throat, I asked Cory for my four wood ... hitting it about 375 yards but dead center down the fairway.

Bubba took out what looked like a wood, but I never saw anything like it ... it might be one of those six or seven-woods. He laced it about 30 yards short of me to the roar of the crowd.

So, that’s how it’s going to be!

Adam played it like I had, and we were bunched together. I know some players like to be left alone when they play, but Bubba always looked so comfortable.

“Hey Bubba,” I said catching up with him.

“Yeah, Cannon,” he responded with a sly grin.

“What was that club you just used, I never saw anything like it before,” I said.

“You are not allowed to ask me what club I used, Johnny ... but they’re called hybrids.”

“Thanks, sorry!” I said getting back to Cory.

Adam hit first, laying up about 30 yards short. I was next, taking a six-iron and laying up myself ... just short of the hole.

We all got to Bubba’s who took the same club he hit off the tee and put it on the green, to a nice cheer from the nearby people.

Adam chipped to about four feet and marked his ball.

This green is rather flat, so I got my pitching wedge from my wife and surveyed my 10 yards from the green, and 12 more feet from the pin, swung it nice as it landed and rolled into the hole ... HOLY CRAP ... I just started my first Professional tournament with an eagle on the first and second hole ... two eagles! We were four under.

The crowd was quite appreciative, as I went and got my ball from the hole.

Bubba was putting for an eagle, and it curled beautifully into the cup. Adam made his putt for a birdie.

At the turn, I was at 28, eight under ... Adam was 32, four under, with Bubba smiling but having a 33 for three under.

The seventh hole was where the PGA had placed one of those electronic scoreboards, and to see your name on one of those, much less at the top of one of them was ... intimidating!

Taking a short break, I was approached by David Feherty, who in his marvelous Irish brogue asked for a couple of minutes to talk.

“Well, Cannon ... how does it feel so far, you are leading the whole shebang by two shots over Rory Sabatini?”

“First, David ... Mr. Feherty, it is an honor to speak with you. I was very worried back when I heard you had your accident, but it looks as though all is well.” (He was hit by a truck while cycling, suffering three broken ribs, which punctured his lung. He resumed his duties the same year at the 2008 Masters Tournament.)

“Yes, thank you, so you started with two eagles, and then settled down and got four more birdies, without even a hint of trouble so far ... How well do you think you can play the back nine?”

“Well, Mr. Feherty, yesterday I had a 67 ... hopefully I can shoot another nine between 28 and 30?”

Turning to his cameraman, David said, “There you have it, the Cannon has spoken. He projects a 58 for today ... Back to you, Rich!”


The back nine had few fireworks ... I eagled the single Par-Five 555-Yard-long, #12, along with four additional birdies, for another 30, for a first round of 56.

After doing the end of the round niceties the PGA requires, I came out and Cory laid a big kiss on me, that had the cameras all shuttering as fast as they could.

Cory and I were walked into a shaded tent and sat down with two-dozen reporters ... we each had a microphone in front of us.

I pointed to a friendly face, David, who asked, “You are leading in your first tournament, how do you feel, Cannon?”

“Top of the World!” I said to their chuckles.

I pointed to an older gentleman, “Johnny, you are playing amongst golfers that you have idolized most of your life ... now you are playing against them, how does that feel?”

“Well, I grew up watching Tiger and Greg Norman and David Duval, all long ball hitters. I wanted to be one of those. My Dad turning me from being a lefty, along with this young lady coming into my life, I realized that my dream might just come true.”

I was getting emotional ... Cory took my hand.

With moistening eyes, I continued, “My father is my idol ... I wish that he could have been here today to see me.”

“Who said he isn’t?” a familiar voice walked up to me, I got up and my Dad and me hugged so very long. I guess you could compare it to a Tiger/Earl hug!

Afterwards, he sat down and said, “One more question.”

“You in the back,” I said.

“Thank you ... do you think you can keep shooting in the 50s for three more days ... that would be a record for the ages?”

I answered, “No, I doubt that, but as this man next to me has often told me, ‘You are only as good as you can let yourself be.’ Thank you!”

We were escorted out, and Dad gave Cory a big hug, before he left.

“Let’s blow this joint ... I got my tee time for tomorrow, Bubba and Adam again, but later in the day,” I said. We left, back to the hotel.

As Mark Twain allegedly said, ‘Golf is a good walk ... spoiled.’ Even a short course is four miles of walking, not counting the pressure of picking the right club and swinging the correct way.

All of this is my way of saying ... I was tired, so we took a nap.

I awoke and turned on the TV and got the Golf Channel. I have been watching golf for a while and have gotten used to watching the crawl along the bottom. Seeing ‘1. J. Masters -14 under’ was just another thrill in my life.

“Hey Cannon, wanna fuck?” my wife said with the most alluring smile I’d seen on her face.

I took off my t-shirt and boxers, as Cory was removing her bra and panties. She never got much past a medium B Cup, but what she had was astonishing as I went straight for her boobies.

One and then the other, I was chewing on them, licking the nipples, and basically mauling her. Her mewls and groans were quite the turn on, as I started moving down from her breasts, stopping at her belly button, and poking my tongue into it.

She had said she wanted to fuck, so I took her at her word and filled her pussy with my hard dick. I went all of the way in ... her face looked like she was breathing too hard, but I started a very fast and intense fucking motion, going as fast and as hard as I could.

I saw her going through a couple of orgasms as I was near my own, plowing through my dick spurting its contents deep inside my woman. She was really worn out looking, so I slowed to an easier rhythm as I saw her eyes flutter open, and her face turn into a truly marvelous smile. I pulled out, and she turned over to rest again.

I got up to go to the bathroom and saw blood on my dick, cleaning it off to see first if it were my blood. It wasn’t, she started her period during our lovemaking. I got one of her tampons and got into bed, nudging her and said, “You started ... here.”

“Thank you ... Cannon!”


The next morning, we got up, went to the course, and focused on getting limber and well-practiced. I noticed there was a bit of a breeze, which could complicate club selection. I was looking at the hybrids clubs and Fred Couples came over and said, “Great round yesterday, Johnny.”

“Thanks, Sir ... today the butterflies aren’t quite so bad,” I responded.

“Have you played much match play, Johnny?” he asked.

“Only at the NCAA Championships ... before that just a couple of rounds in high school and college, why?”

“I am captain of the 2011 Presidents Cup, and I have some picks I can directly place on the squad. If you do as well this week as I expect you will, would you be interested to join? The tournament is not until the third week of November.”

“Oh Wow ... To be able to represent the United States of America ... in a heartbeat Sir ... Fred!”

“I will need you to keep this under your cap for the short term, OK?” he remarked.

“I can tell my wife, my caddy ... can’t I?”

“Tell your wife what?” I heard her ask.

“Tell you later, Cory.”

(The Presidents Cup is a Match Play International golf tournament played every two years, between a USA based team and a International Team minus Europe.

Having started in 1994 the tournament moves back and forth between the teams. There are 12 players per side, not counting the coaches. There are similarities to the Ryder Cup. More later.)

Fred and I shook hands and he wandered somewhere else.

“Let’s hit some balls, Cannon!” Cory said giving me a chaste kiss.

“Yeah, there’s a little breeze going on today, I need to practice some lower running shots and my fades and draws,” I expressed.

“Count the clubs, Cory?” I asked.

“Still only 14, you worried about something, hubby?”

“I just don’t want anything to get in the way of our winning this tournament,” I said quietly.

We got out to the practice range, where I quietly told her about my discussion with Fred Couples. She wanted badly to jump up and scream, but decorum ruled the moment.

We started our practice regimen, with every other swing being adapted to a lower shot. I took some extra reps with the two-iron before going to the woods.

“Hey Cannon,” Adam came up to say. “I see you are practicing for the wind, good idea. You get through today and you make your first cut.”

 
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