Frank's tongue stabbed frantically into Traci's mouth. He was a sloppy kisser, but Traci's attention wasn't on his saliva soaked lips and tongue. For the tenth time in the last five minutes Frank's fingers tentatively stroked her breast. Traci adroitly slid her arm inside his and pushed it away.

Frank sat back in his car seat and whined, "Ah come on Traci, at least let me play with your tits."

"Why are you so fixated on my breasts?" she asked.

"Hell girl, they're like a third person in the car with us. How can I avoid them?" Frank's hand moved to his crotch and he began to subtly stroke himself.

Traci laughed at her date. Frank was rich and good looking but he acted like the perpetual sophomore that he actually was. He was twenty-six years old and still a college undergrad. Traci was eighteen and a couple of weeks shy of her high school graduation. It had been two years since she had dated a high school boy, but she doubted that they would act any less mature than Frank.

As he continued to grope his crotch Frank said, "I don't know why I bother with you. We've had what... five or six dates? I would have been sleeping with any other girl, instead of making out in a car."

"You're dating me because I'm drop dead gorgeous and you like to show me off to your friends." They had just finished a meal at a rather posh restaurant. Frank had made a production of introducing Traci to a number of people before they could be seated at their table. "And," she added for emphasis, "I'd bet anything that you tell your buddies that you're fucking my brains out."

"Oh I'd never do that," said Frank just a second too late to sound convincing.

Traci snorted and made a show of looking at her watch. "I have to be up early tomorrow. If you're going to jack off, then you better get to it."

Frank growled softly in frustration, but he quickly unzipped his pants. This was the way their dates went. He kept a painful hard-on from the time he left home to meet Traci until he finally relieved himself at the end of the evening as she watched. He couldn't help himself. Traci had the looks straight from his ultimate male fantasy. She had waist length, thick golden hair, perfectly smooth, tanned skin, a face that made men walk into walls and a body that caused car wrecks. She was nearly six feet tall with smoothly muscled limbs that hinted at her athleticism. And she had great tits. Tits that filled her chest and stood out proudly.

Frank struggled with his underwear before he finally managed to get the head of his cock to barely peek out of his pants. He encircled his penis with his thumb and forefinger and began to beat his meat with a fast stroke. "How about a movie or something Friday night?" he asked.

Yeah, like I'd waste a Friday night with you, thought Traci. Frank was good for a slow weeknight, but she saved her weekends for men who - like Frank - were good looking and rich, but - unlike Frank - had dicks that were bigger than their thumbs. Besides, she wasn't going to be in town that night. "I'm going to be at a golf tournament the rest of the week."

Frank made a rude noise. "Are you still on that golf kick?"

"Well, unlike you, my father doesn't have a ton of money to throw at me in order to keep me out of his hair."

Frank ignored her verbal jab. "At least all that walking keeps your legs in great shape," he said as he slid a hand onto her thigh.

Traci didn't bother to brush his hand away. She knew that it wouldn't be there long. Frank's other hand was a blur as he strained for his orgasm. "Oh yeah," he moaned. He threw his head back and a little burble of cum appeared on the head of his cock. It dripped down onto his fingers as Frank's breathing returned to normal. Twenty minutes later Traci was home.

The next day Traci and her father drove three hours to the city of Ashton. Following the directions they had been given, they found themselves in an older and obviously very rich part of town. "Lot's of nice home's here," said her father as he peered out the windshield of their ten year old minivan.

"Certainly are," said Traci. Most of the homes were two stories and sat behind walls or at the end of spacious lawns. They were on their way to the home of John Stone. He was one of the main sponsors of the golf tournament Traci was to play in. Traci's uncle had arranged for her to stay with the Stones.

"Here's the address," said her father, pointing across the road. Traci made the turn onto a driveway that curved its way down a hill. They pulled to a stop in a parking area outside a three car garage. As they stepped out of the minivan a man appeared through a door next to the garage. He was of medium height with thinning hair and dark eyes. He was wearing a pair of loose running shorts and a baggy tee shirt.

"Hello," said the man, thrusting out his hand. "I'm John Stone."

"Hi," said Traci's father. He took John's hand. "I'm Samuel, and this is Traci."

"Hi there, Traci," said John as he shook her hand. The two men talked as she looked around. The Stone's house was built onto a hillside. The large house stretched over the garage and onto a sloping lawn. Most of the property was covered in towering oak trees and tasteful, small flower gardens.

"Let's get your stuff inside," said John, and he grabbed her golf bag while her father carried her travel bag inside. They entered through the door beside the garage. "This is a sort of work and exercise room," John said as they entered. There were various tools on the walls and work benches as well as one of those all-in-one weight machines that sat against one wall. They turned and went through another door that led to a hallway. "There's the stairs to the main floor," John pointed out. "Our den's in here and that's my office," he said, pointing to a couple of open doors. At the end of the hallway he opened a door and announced, "Here's our downstairs guest room. My wife is having the upstairs room redecorated so I hope you don't mind sharing. There's another girl coming - a friend of my son, Ritchie."

The room had two huge beds as well as chairs, a couch, a television and several other pieces of furniture. This single room was only slightly smaller than her father's entire house. "I'm sure it'll be fine," Traci said dryly.

They went back to the parking area. Traci and her father said their goodbyes. He would be back late on Sunday, after the tournament. Traci kissed him goodbye and then waved until his van disappeared up the drive. "Traci, I was working out when you arrived," John said, "and I'd like to finish. Do whatever you'd like. I think my son has every video game ever invented in the den. He and his mother will be back later."

Traci thanked her host and went to her room. She put away her clothing and then decided to join Mr. Stone. She examined herself in the bedroom's full length mirror. It wasn't too soon to make a good impression on Mr. Stone. He had been known to take a financial interest in the career of young, promising golfers. In fact, her uncle had told her that was the reason Mr. Stone helped to sponsor the tournament. So he could evaluate players liker her.

Traci had pinned up her hair that morning and put on a former boyfriend's much too large warm up jacket. She had worn the jacket against an early morning chill. Another reason she was wearing the bulky jacket was because she knew that her father wouldn't approve of the top it was hiding. She pulled off the jacket and threw it on one of the beds, and then she straightened and pulled her top into place. It was a sleeveless, ribbed knit pullover with a turtleneck. The stretchy material was molded to her huge breasts and it left her flat tummy bare. She was showing a lot of tanned torso because her hip hugging shorts didn't start until well below her navel. Traci unpinned her hair. She shook it out and combed through her hair with her fingers. Her thick hair fell in soft, golden curls nearly to her waist. She took a couple of minutes to find her makeup and to touchup her eyes and lips.

John was still at his work out. She could hear the weights clanking and thumping as he did some exercise or another. But when Traci entered the room, there was a clunk, a gasp and then several seconds of complete silence. John was not only staring at her, his eyes were practically falling out of his head. "Hi," said Traci. "I thought you might like some company."

John had removed his shirt. His thick body was glistening with sweat on his hairy chest and stomach. "Oh, yeah sure," he said when he found his voice. "Uh... why don't you have a seat? How's your golf game coming along?"

Traci perched on a stool across from John. She talked about her golf game while he openly gawked at her body and went through his exercises. Traci didn't mind him looking. For most of her life males hadn't paid her any attention. She had grown up as an ugly duckling. Until high school she was always the tallest, heaviest and most awkward in her class. She had to endure more than her fair share of juvenile taunts and teasing. Her parents couldn't afford fashionable clothes or any extracurricular activities for their daughter. Then in junior high one of her teachers had urged her to join the girl's basketball team. Traci blossomed. She found that she had real athletic abilities. The pounds fell off her body, or became lean muscle. And at that point, as her mother used to say, her hormones exploded. Her body rounded out spectacularly. Boys whom she had known all her life suddenly became shy around her and the older, very popular young men who had never noticed her before, just as suddenly found reasons to talk to her.

She discovered golf almost by accident. The same uncle who knew Mr. Stone, was a member of an exclusive country club. Several times a year her uncle would invite her father to play. Traci accompanied her father one day, and at her uncle's insistence she played along. To everyone's amazement she made a par on the first hole she had ever played. By the end of the round, Traci had played so well that her uncle was offering to pay for lessons and even a limited membership at the club. Traci accepted his offer and took up the game. The female members of the club weren't too happy with her presence, but their husbands were delighted to talk to, and to play golf with the beautiful young woman. The sons of those rich members practically knocked each other over trying to impress her with their expensive cars and generous allowances.

"OK," said John, "last exercise." He sat on the weight-machine's bench in a semi-reclining position with his legs splayed to either side. John grasped a couple of handles and lifted the weights to which they were attached by bringing the handles together in front of his chest. Traci could see up the legs of his loose fitting runner's shorts. In fact, she could see all the way up his shorts. Apparently Mr. Stone hadn't bothered with underwear. She could see his cock as it lay down one leg of his shorts. John slowly went through the repetitions of his exercise, his eyes still locked on her body. Traci watched his cock as it lengthened and grew thicker every time John pulled on the weights. Pretty soon it lifted the material of his shorts and the head poked its way into the open.

Their eyes met and Traci knew that he knew exactly what was happening. "I... uh hope you don't mind," said John. He gave up exercising and pulled back the leg of his shorts to reveal the full length of his big cock. "I bet a beautiful girl like you has seen more than a few of these."

Traci didn't even bother to act shocked or coy. She shook her head and said truthfully, "I don't think that I've ever seen one quite that long or thick."

"Oh yeah?" said John. The compliment seemed to make his dick swell even more. He began to stroke his cock with long strokes from groin to purple head.

Traci knew the affect that she had on men. She liked the feeling of sexual power that it gave her. She pulled back her shoulders, thrusting her tits against the material of her top and shook her long blond hair back with a toss of her head.

"Oh yeah, baby," whispered John. "You know what you've got." He began to fist his cock harder. A stream of precum ran over his fingers and made the big dick glisten. His hand made a wet smacking noise every time his hand hit the head of his cock.

"I bet you've got a big load of cum in those big balls of yours," purred Traci as she teased him along.

"You bet I do, baby." He doubled the speed of his hand on his cock. "I'm cumming, Traci. You're making me cum, baby."

Traci saw a string of cum shoot out of the end his cock. It almost flew over the end of the bench. John stroked his cock frantically and more gobs of cum streaked from its dark purple head.

There was the sound of a car in the drive outside, and then the rumble of a garage door opening. "Oh shit," said John in a strangled voice. "It's my wife." Cum was still streaming from his cock. "I can't stop cumming." He looked at Traci, pleading with her with his eyes.

Traci stood and went to the door that lead to the garage area. She didn't know Mrs. Stone, but she very much doubted that the woman would approve of her husband masturbating in front of a pretty, young houseguest. Traci walked into the garage just as the engine died and the passenger door of an upscale minivan opened. The woman who stepped out of the car was a little over five feet tall. She had a thick figure and short but stylish dark hair. Traci took the initiative and strode up to the woman. "Hi," she said as she stuck out her hand. "You must be Mrs. Stone. I'm Traci."

The woman gave Traci a limp handshake and a perfunctory smile that quickly faded. "Hello," she said. "Did my husband abandon you?"

"Oh he's around somewhere," said Traci. "I haven't been here long. I put up my clothes and took him up on his offer to look around." As Traci spoke they had moved to the rear of the minivan. Mrs. Stone opened the rear door to reveal a dozen bags of groceries. The two women were met there by the van's driver, a good looking young man.

"This is my son, Ritchie," said Ms Stone. She picked up a bag of groceries and held it out for her son. However, Ritchie didn't have eyes for anything but Heather. Ms Stone shook the bag and snapped, "For goodness sake, Ritchie. Put your eyes back in your head."

"Sorry, Mom," mumbled Ritchie. He took the bag and two others without taking his eyes from Traci. Ritchie was taller than his father, which made him level with Traci. Like his father, he had dark hair and eyes. But where his father had extra pounds, Ritchie had the effortlessly lean body of a teenager.

From the open garage door came the sound of steps and Mr. Stone appeared in the door. "There you are," he said in a loud voice. "I thought I heard you drive up."

John had managed to put on a fresh shirt and maybe some underwear. He certainly didn't look as if he had just unloaded about a cup of milky cum in the next room. "Holy cow," he said looking at all the bags of food. "You bought enough to feed an army."

"Or three teenagers for three days," said Mrs. Stone as she loaded her husbands arms.

Traci pitched in and they managed to get all the food upstairs and into the kitchen in one trip.

Dinner was delayed until Ritchie's friend arrived. Her name was Paula. She was about five and half feet tall with reddish brown hair and big brown eyes. Traci instantly disliked the girl. She was going to be Traci's main rival in the golf tournament. In addition, Paula acted as if she was joined at the hip to Ritchie, and she gushed at everything Mr. and Ms Stone had to say while she completely ignored Traci.

After the late dinner the teens retired to the den. Paula and Ritchie made Traci feel like a fifth wheel, but she perversely refused to leave them alone. It wasn't long before Mr. Stone joined them. He may have been the oldest person in the room, but he was certainly the youngest at heart. He took charge and organized a series of video games. Then he took absolute delight in winning most of them. But when midnight came around, he turned into a father once more and sent everyone off to bed. Friday, he declared, was going to be a long day.

Traci put on a pair of light cotton sleep pants and bra. Paula disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later wearing a dark gold silk sleep shirt that barely covered her essential parts. Well, Traci thought, I can't fault the girl for having money and good taste in clothes. The two teens turned out the lights and went to bed with barely a word spoken between them.

Traci tossed and turned. She was in a strange bed in a strange house with unfamiliar sounds. Finally, she tried to will herself to sleep by breathing deeply and concentrating on relaxing her muscles. She thought that she may have drifted off when she heard Paula get up. "Traci?" she whispered softly from the foot of Traci's bed.

She's not trying to wake me, thought Traci behind closed eyelids. She's trying to see if I'm asleep. Traci lay still and continued to take deep, regular breaths. In a second she heard Paula crossing the room and the sound of the door to the hallway opening and closing.

Traci's eyes flipped opened. Now she was wide awake and very curious about Paula. She slipped out of bed and went to the door. She peered down the long hallway just in time to see Paula enter the workshop. Traci walked quickly to that door and slowly opened it. The workroom was dark, but she could see light coming from under the door to the garage. She crossed the room and very slowly opened the door just enough to peek inside.

Paula and Ritchie were wrapped around one anther, kissing furiously. He was wearing nothing but a pair of those boxer shorts that had a wide elastic waist band. When they stopped for air Ritchie said, "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming."

"I had to wait until that giant Barbie doll went to sleep."

Ritchie laughed. "She's not all that big."

"Her tits alone weigh more than I do, and don't tell me that you didn't notice."

Ritchie was no fool. He shook his head and said, "I don't notice anything when you're around."

"Good answer," she murmured, and they began to kiss once more like the two horny teenagers that they were. Ritchie's hands slid under her sleep shirt and cupped her ass. He pulled her even closer and ground his hips against hers. After a long, hot minute of tonguing one another they separated, and Ritchie opened the side door of the minivan. They took a seat on one of the rear bench seats and resumed their play.

Ritchie's hands were all over Paula. He slid the silk material of her sleep shirt all over her tits. Then he undid the top buttons and pulled her breasts into the open so he could fondle and softly pinch her nipples. When his hand moved lower, Paula eagerly opened her legs and his fingers stole into her pussy.

Paula moaned softly. "That's it, baby. Finger my pussy. Do it faster."

Ritchie's hand moved faster and harder until a quick slapping sound filled the garage. Paula's hips rose and fell and moved in little circles. "I'm cumming," she whispered. She stuck the tip of a finger in her mouth and then she gave a little whining gasp as her hips thrust into the air and quivered.

Paula gave Ritchie a sloppy wet kiss as she pulled his cock from his shorts. She slid down in the seat until her head was level with the head of his pulsing cock. Paula kissed and tongued Ritchie's dick just as she had kissed and tongued his mouth a few seconds before.

"Suck on it, please Paula," begged Ritchie. She just looked up and smiled as she licked the precum that was flowing from the slit in his cock head. After a minute though, she took pity on the boy and slipped her lips over his leaking cock. She sucked on the head while her hand stroked the turgid shaft.

Traci watched all the action from the next room. Ritchie's cock wasn't quite as big as his father's, but it looked fantastic against his lean, muscled torso. She'd better hurry and get that thing in her pussy, Traci thought. He can't last much longer. Just then Paula removed her mouth from Ritchie's dick. Her hand flashed up and down the length his cock. Ritchie bit his lower lip and a stream of cum shot from his cock straight up in the air. It landed on Paula's hand and added to his natural lubrication. It wasn't really needed though, Ritchie's cock poured out shot after shot of milky semen. It flowed over her hand and his thighs until it was running onto the leather seats.

Unseen, Traci headed back to her bed. That Ritchie was pretty cute and certainly well hung. She caressed her pussy through her sleep pants. She considered trying to get herself off for a quickie, after all she hadn't been laid in a week. But then she heard the door to the room open as Paula retuned. Traci turned on her side and took a long breath; maybe she would just wait. Maybe she could arrange to make Ritchie available to satisfy her hungry pussy later.

The following morning everyone had a breakfast of toast, cereal and coffee. Afterwards, Paula ducked into the bathroom and took her own sweet time leaving. By the time Paula left for the golf course in her car, Traci had to hurry through her own morning routine. Ritchie had left for his summer job in his father's Mercedes. Ritchie's own car was in the shop. Traci and the Jones would be left to travel to the course together in the family van.

Traci was standing in the guest room in her bra and panties when there was a tap at the door and Mr. Stone stepped in without an invitation. He eagerly took in the sight of Traci's hot body. She didn't even bother to cover herself.

"Hi Traci," John said as he stopped just inside the door.

"Something wrong?" asked Traci.

"We're running a little late. I just came by to see if you were ready." John began to rub at the front of his pants. There was a distinct bulge there. He unzipped his pants and pulled his substantial cock into the open. "I... I hope you don't mind," he panted. John began to stroke his cock with a steady beat.

"Please yourself," Traci said with a smile. "I won't be long." She took a seat at a vanity that was against the wall in the center of the room. She brushed her long hair back behind her shoulders and then gathered it in both hands. Using a couple of decorative elastic bands she went through the practiced moves that would gather her hair into a sassy ponytail that would keep her hair out of the way as she swung her clubs. Fooling with her hair that way pulled her shoulders back and thrust her breasts up and out.

"Mmm... Traci, you look so sexy doing that." John began to beat his meat even faster. "Those panties on the bed, can I see those?"

Traci picked up the panties, wadded them into a ball and threw them across the room. John caught them out of the air and clamped the underwear to his face. "Nothing like the smell of a sexy pussy," he said excitedly. Then he wrapped the slick nylon material around his cock and resumed masturbating as he gazed at the gorgeous teen beauty.

Traci finished dressing. She had just slipped into her shoes when John gasped, "I'm going to cum, baby. I'm going to shoot my wad into your sweet panties." He thrust his hips out and Traci could hear the liquid sounds as his big dick shot wad after wad of hot semen into the underwear. Exhausted, John leaned against the bedroom wall, his wilting dick hanging from the fly in his pants.

Traci walked up. "I'm ready to go now," she said as if John had only been standing there, waiting patiently.

John held out the ball of cum soaked panties. "What do I do with these?" he asked.

Traci shrugged. "I don't care, they're Paula's." She passed him and went out the door.

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully for Traci. She played a practice round at the course with some other girls who were also in the tournament. After a box lunch she participated in a one round preliminary tournament with the lady members of the country club. She was paired with a woman in her seventies named Ellen. Ellen was dressed in a matching outfit based on a pink floral pattern. She had maroon shoes which perfectly matched her golf glove and even her golf bag. Ellen was sweet and a joy as a partner. However, the other pairing in their foursome was a cheerless old biddy named Barbara and even worse, her partner was Paula.

Paula's policy of not speaking to Traci apparently didn't extend to the golf course. She was one of those players who liked to rile their opponent with little digs about their play. Also, she just happened to cough or drop a club or make some sort of sound while Tracy was trying to swing. Tracy knew what she was doing but that didn't stop Paula from getting under her skin. On one hole, after severely over swinging, and nearly knocking the ball sideways into the next zip code, Traci slammed her club back into her bag and threw herself into the golf cart.

Ellen patted her arm and said, "Now dear, don't let that shitty little bitch upset you. You're twice the player she is."

Traci was amazed that the sweet little old lady even knew those words, much less that she would utter them out loud. She looked at Ellen in astonishment and then laughed. "Actually I'm about four times the player she is. Thanks for reminding me, Ellen."

Traci and Ellen didn't win the tournament. Barbara, who had a suspiciously high handicap, and Paula took the honors. There was a dinner and an awards ceremony where Paula looked terribly smug as she accepted her trophy. Traci had dinner with Ellen and Ellen's friends. They were nice but their dinner conversation centered mostly on children, grandchildren and home projects. Subjects that were about to bore Traci to tears when she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Ritchie standing behind her. "Hi, can you do me a favor?" he asked.

"What's that?"

"Mom wants me to get something out of the minivan. Can you show me where it's parked?"

"Sure, I guess so," said Traci. She excused herself from Helen and friends and followed Ritchie out of the clubhouse. She led the way through the densely packed parking lot.

"Did you come by to see Paula?" she asked, as they stopped at the Stone's car.

"Uh, not really," said Ritchie hesitantly. "Mom said that if I wanted dinner, then I had to eat at the club." They stopped beside the car and he opened the door and began looking through the numerous storage areas of the minivan.

"What are you looking for?"

"Her... uh... cell phone," he said, with his head practically buried in a large empty bin.

"Oh," said Traci. "I thought I saw her using it earlier this evening."

Ritchie backed out of the van. His face was turning red. "I guess she forgot that she had it."

"Either that, or you just made the whole thing up in order to get me out here alone," Traci said with a little smile.

They had to stand so close to one another between the parked cars that they were practically touching. Ritchie gave her a cute boyish grin and said, "Yeah, maybe." Traci just stood there. Her face inches from his. Ritchie leaned forward, and when she didn't back away, he kissed her firmly on the lips.

Not a bad kisser, thought Traci. She returned the kiss and in seconds their tongues were thrashing around in each other's mouths. Ritchie put his hands on her waist and then he began to move them lower as the kiss went on. He was about to grab her ass when Traci put her hands on his forearms and pushed him away. "Now what if your friend Paula saw us making out in the parking lot," she teased him.

Ritchie looked like a little boy who has just had his candy taken away. He shrugged. "We're not hooked up."

"You sure looked hooked up last night when she was giving you an A-class blow job," she said.

"You watched us?"

"I saw part of it," lied Traci. She didn't want to admit that she had watched until the cum spewing end.

Ritchie blushed bright red once more, but he recovered quickly enough. "You should have joined us."

Traci ran a finger along his jaw and across his lips as she looked into his eyes. "I don't share," she said as she walked away.

That evening everyone headed for their bedrooms once they returned to the Stone's home. It had indeed been a long day. Traci got into the guest bathroom first and she pretended to be fast asleep when Paula finished taking her turn. Once again, Paula checked to see if Traci was awake, and once again Traci feigned sleep. When Paula left the bedroom, Traci arose and slipped on a dark blue terrycloth bathrobe that fell to mid-thigh. She strode down the hall and passed through the work room. She quietly opened the door to the garage. Just as they had been the previous night, Paula and Ritchie were locking lips next to the minivan. Traci quietly entered the room and stepped behind Paula. Ritchie must have sensed her movements because he opened his eyes.

Traci gave the teen a sensuous smile and let the front of her robe fall open. Her breasts proudly thrust into the open, standing out resolutely in the evening air. Her blonde hair shimmered against the dark blue robe.

Robbie didn't break off his kiss with Paula, but his eyes flew wide open and he seemed to lose interest in her lips and writhing body. Traci slipped out of her robe and hung it on a convenient nail. She took one of Ritchie's arms and placed it on her hip. Ritchie flowed smoothly into her arms. Traci wrapped her arms around his neck and pillowed her luscious tits against his chest.