Roman Record
Chapter 18

Copyright© 2005 by scriptusest

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 18 - What happens when Daddy meets 16 year old daughter after not seeing her for three years? He is aided in meeting her by the mother of the daughter's best friend. The friend and her mother both show their affection - and more.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Incest   Father   Daughter   Light Bond   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Water Sports  

I looked up and saw Margaret Armitage, whom I recognized, but didn't really know, and an older woman who looked very like her, who was, presumably, her mother. Both ladies were quite tall, although not as tall as Sally. Margaret looked to be about fifty, the same as Mike, while her mother, obviously was much older, but was very sun-tanned, and had that lean wiry look that fortunate ladies develop late in their life. For someone who was at least seventy, I imagined, she looked very fit. She also seemed to carry with her an air of authority. Not a woman to upset, I thought. I stood, as did Sally.

The two ladies came across to us, and Mike said, "Mother, may I introduce Peter McKenzie and Sally Roman."

She held her hand out to each of us in turn, and said,

"I'm very pleased to meet you both. Lydia Blackwell, please call me Lydia."

"Thank you, Lydia," I said.

"Margaret, you've spoken to, but never met, Sally, have you?" asked Mike. Sally and Margaret shook hands, "I think you've met Peter before, haven't you?"

"Yes, but only briefly. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better, Peter, now that you're on the Board." We shook hands.

Lydia sat down, and said:

"Well, sit down and finish your sandwiches. Margaret and I have eaten already. Why are we sitting in here, Mike and not in the lounge? We're none of us wearing spikes."

"We'll be going in the lounge after we play, so I thought I would show Peter and Sally another part of the club."

"Very well."

We finished our sandwiches and coffee, and Mike said:

"Are your clubs and shoes still in the car?"

"Yes, shall we go and get them?"

"Might as well, and then we can all make a start if everyone's ready." He looked round, and saw no indication of dissent, so Sally and I got up and went with him.

We put our golf bags onto the trolleys, collected our shoes, and I asked him:

"Shall we leave our other clothes here, or take them in now?"

"Might as well take them in now. We've provided a locker for you for the day, so everything will be quite safe. Here, Sally, let me carry your bags in for you."

We walked round the side of the house, and, leaving the trolleys outside, in through a rear entrance which led to the changing rooms. Margaret was there to look after Sally as Mike and I went in to the men's changing room. This was a large, airy, cool room lined with large lockers for storing golf clubs, or anything else one wanted to store. Mike pointed towards a locker with a key in its lock, and said:

"Use that one, Peter."

I hung my suit carrier inside it, and then sat on the bench in front of it to put my golf shoes on.

"Showers through there," Mike pointed, "Towels in a stack just inside. Throw them in the big basket after you've finished. Gents through here. I'll just have a quick pee before we go out."

"Good idea," I replied, and joined him.

While we were peeing, I asked Mike if there were yardage charts for the course available.

"Oh, I should have mentioned it. Yes, the starter keeps a stack of them, and also a chart showing today's pin positions."

Then we went back outside, and a couple of minutes later, the ladies appeared, and the five of us set off for the first tee.

"What's your handicap?" Margaret asked Sally.

"Seven. And you two?"

"I'm playing off nine at present, and Mother's playing off twelve."

"I think I ought to have another couple of shots, I've not been playing very well lately," said her Mother.

"No chance," replied Margaret. "Sally, if you play with her again, you'll always get this pitiful plea for extra shots, sometimes because she's not well. Or her ankle's not very good, or any other fanciful excuse, but she takes the money more often than is respectable without any extra shots. The handicap committee are a load of wimps, and won't cut her."

"Ungrateful child," muttered her Mother. "Talking of money, what are we going to play for, and what are we playing?"

"The easiest, with three of us, would be just to play Stableford off full handicaps, I think," said Margaret, "Suit you, Sally?"

"Whatever you wish, and the stakes?"

"Three, three, four all right?" asked Lydia, "Three pounds on each nine, and four on the whole round."

"Yes," said Sally, "That's what we usually play."

"Right, let's be off then."

When we reached the first tee, the starter was inside his box, looking out of an open window.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Blackwell, would your guests like a yardage chart?"

"Yes, please," We both replied, and as I took my wallet out to pay for them, Mike restrained me and said:

"We don't make a charge for the charts, Peter. Virtually all the non-members who play here do so as guests of members, so the cost of providing the yardage charts are covered by subscriptions. It makes things much easier that way."

"Oh, Sally," said Lydia, "just to put your mind at rest, I've got my purse in my golf bag."

Sally blushed bright red, and then spluttered, and said:

"How did you..." and then turned to look at me, "Peter you didn't... , no, you couldn't have," and then turned back to Lydia. "Where did you get that from?"

"Mother seems to know someone in every club in the country — and a tidy few overseas. What's this about?"

"Come on, Sally," said Mike, "What does Mother know that we don't?"

"Well," began Sally, "you know how it is with some ladies," she looked at Margaret and Lydia. "They are very bad at paying up when they've lost, 'I haven't got my purse with me' is the usual excuse, and they never remember to pay later." Margaret and Lydia both nodded, and muttered sounds of agreement, "Well one morning after beating one particularly bad payer, who 'didn't have her purse with her', I went home with her, so that she could get her purse and pay me. Ever since then, the ladies in my group think it's amusing to assure me that they've brought their purse with them before we start."

"I heard that when you got to her home, her purse was empty, and you actually took her to the cash-point Sally," added Lydia, "Is that right?"

"Guilty as charged. I was well aware that she and her husband were rolling in money, and she'd have happily taken my cash if I'd lost, which often happened, as she was a bit of a bandit off her handicap, and so I was determined not to let her get away with it. Unfortunately, one of my playing partners saw me with her at the cash-point, and the story ran round the Ladies' Section like wildfire. She's always paid up to everyone since then, although she stayed away from the Club for three or four weeks after the event."

"Jolly good for you," said Lydia approvingly, "There are far too many ladies who are reluctant to pay up when they lose, but quite ready to take it when they've won. I notice men never seem to have the same problem. Enough of this, Sally, you're low lady, will you start."

Sally took out her three wood, and after four or five practice swings, teed a ball up and drove it down the middle of the fairway. Margaret and then Lydia followed, and both were very straight, and I thought that Margaret had probably driven a bit further than Sally by taking a driver rather than a three wood. Mike and I both said "Good shot" after each drive.

While the ladies were walking to their balls, and playing their second shots, Mike asked me what I liked to play, and to play for.

"Match play?" I suggested, "Three quarters of the difference, and why not the same stakes as the ladies."

"Suits me, what are you playing off?"

"Officially eleven, but I've hardly played for the last few years."

 
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